BETROTHED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

Valerie’s POV

For the very first time in years, I feel great sympathy for someone who isn’t Fred or Brenda or my parents.

My life has always revolved around these people; my parents, my ex-boyfriend, and my best friend. They mean so much to me and I loved them without any care in the world.

I can do anything to make them happy as long as I am also happy and my heart flutters. Seeing them happy invariably makes me happy too, so I make efforts.

But today, I find myself wishing things are different and Mrs. Lorenzo isn’t sick. Ryan doesn’t look himself. It looks like his real self is out of that body.

He was just nodding meekly to everything I said with a far distant look on his face. I read people’s actions as well as the words that come out of their mouths.

Mother calls me a psychic.

I just love doing that. Thankfully, we didn’t fight today. It feels like we have been married for a hundred years and today feels like one out of the thousand days that we have no reason to bicker words at each other.

I wish there is something I can do to help.

The woman seems healthy as a horse and she is all smiles. Whenever she exchanges glances with Ryan, the smile will vanish and Ryan isn’t smiling too.

That look is still on his face. He seems lost. As though he had been abandoned on the roadside by this woman.

I can imagine in my head what he might be thinking right now. Probably blaming the poor woman for allowing herself to become ill. Or possibly wishing this isn’t happening to her too.

I can see the bond. He shares a strong special bond with her and her death will leave him broken.

She doesn’t even look like a woman who is dying. And I am beginning to love her. She is jovial and cheerful. She is also graceful as she hugged me in her elegant dinner gown.

I was blaming myself for not wearing something much more beautiful than my simple dress. I am sure she looks more beautiful than I am.

After dinner, I held out my hands for her and she took it. I don’t know my way around but I find myself walking out of the house with her into the courtyard, the evening air brushing our faces as we fall silent.

“How is married life treating you?” She breaks the long moment of silence as we approach the tent in the courtyard where there are two chairs.

I nod eagerly. “Very well, I would say.”

Expecting her to ask more questions, I keep mute but she isn’t saying anything anymore.

We get to the tent and we sit with crossed legs. She looks calm and peaceful as she stares into space, a little smile on her beautiful face.

Ryan takes more of his features from this woman. I wonder why I never knew about their existence until the betrothal was brought up.

My mother claims to be her friend but I doubt that. I don’t believe half of the things that comes out of my mother’s mouth. She is like a child that tries to do everything possible to get what she wants. A child would whine, cry, get annoyed at little things, or even become angry just so she can be given that little candy.

This is how my mother is. She is never content. She always wants more and sometimes, I feel she is responsible for our situation.

All my sympathy now goes to Father.

“Why did you stop the treatment?” I find myself asking out of the blue.

I bite my lips instantly, wondering what she would think of my bluntness.

She snaps her head towards me with a surprised look on her face. She must have thought that I am not aware of her health.

She smiles widely and looks away without a word. Just when I am thinking she won’t say anything, she mutters. “Is Ryan putting you to this?”

“No”, I answer, rather too sharply. “Of course not. I just find myself in pools of questions. When he told me last night, I did some researches and gave my doctor a call. I found out there are treatments…”

“I’m ok, Valerie. You have nothing to be worried about.”

“I can’t help it. Ryan is a shadow of himself”, I say defensively. I didn’t mean to say that but I think it came out well.

She seems surprised again at my statement, her brows arched and the smile on her face gone. “Ryan?” I nod. “I thought you two were not on good terms?”Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“Well, yes and no. We always have something to argue about but I have never seen him this distracted.”

“You just got married.”

“Yes, but I have him all figured out as if we have been married for many years. I know Ryan already. I know what he wants and what he doesn’t want. I know what he love and what he doesn’t love. I have studied him even before we got married and I can tell when he isn’t in the best of moods.”

She remains silent.

“He was here yesterday to rant about how bad of a choice you are. With the way he was on and on about you, I thought you two would get divorced in a few days.” She murmurs and stares at me.

I almost stutter but I get a grip on myself quickly. Waving it off with my hand, I say. “Don’t mind me. We fought because my ex called.”

“Your ex?” Her eyes widen and I nod with a pout. “He got angry because of that?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. A jealous freak just like his father”, she laughs, her laughter tempting me to laugh too and ignoring the sinking feeling of the effect of my lie.

Eventually, I laugh too and we fall silent again.

She leans backward on the chair, the faraway look on her face gone. When she clears her throat, I know she has something to say.

“I love Ryan”, she admits, taking a hold of my hand and caressing it. “I love you, too and I hope you two will work things out in your marriage.”

I shrug. “I’m making enough effort.”

“What about him?”

“He is always off and on so I don’t know yet.”

She leans toward me with a mischievous look on her face. “Make him fall in love with you, silly.”

“What?!” I exclaim in laughter and she begins to laugh too till tears begin to come out of her eyes.

I hug her.

“Ryan is just afraid of losing you. That isn’t making him concentrate on our marriage. I am too beautiful for him not to fall for me.”

“Really?” She releases herself from the hug and holds my face between her two palms.

“Yes”, I grin widely in confidence.

All I want is to make this woman happy and rest assured. I don’t care if we keep up with this lie for as long as possible.

She drops her hand and sighs heavily. “That boy had a funny childhood, you know?”

I gasp expectantly. “I want to hear them. All of them.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please”, I shift my chair closer to her so I can face her while she talks about his childhood.

“Hold your seat tight or you might fall off in laughter”, she warns and we both burst into laughter.

When I sober up, her eyes brighten up with delight at a wonderful memory of her only son’s childhood and she begins to narrate it all to me, exuding that pride of being his mother as well as the happiness contained in her while she watched him grow into the man he has become.