THE REMORSEFUL BILLIONAIRE

Nathan’s POV

Life has been so unfair to me. In the past month since we broke up, moving on has been more difficult than I thought it would be. I don’t have the zeal to live or do anything. I cry myself to sleep every night, and in the morning, I have to pretend to be strong for the sake of my kids. I became a shadow of myself, but I tried to stay sane for my kids.

Nathan keeps calling, but I don’t answer. He never fails to send an apology message every day, but I don’t think I can ever forgive him. Even if I eventually forgive him, can I ever forget? Every memory from the past haunts me as if it happened yesterday. I can’t handle being with a man who assaults someone, keeps secrets, and tells lies. Too many red flags in one person.

Even the media has been making it difficult. The breakup keeps making the news headlines, leaving everyone curious. They keep organizing interview sessions, which I decline, trying not to exhibit any negative actions as they keep tailing me for some time.

The media getting wind of it would mean all of London knowing. I’m not ready to draw such pitiful attention to myself and the kids.

The kids keep asking about Nathan, but I told them he traveled and would be back soon. They keep saying they miss him and are anticipating his return.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

Felix has been a good confidante, often around to console me and help me move on. It can’t be that easy to move on because I’m human too. He offered to help me pursue justice, but I politely declined.

“I don’t think I should do that. My kids and I can’t go through such harsh court trauma. He is still the father of my kids after all,” I said to him during one of his visits.

“Okay, Judith. I understand,” he said before finally taking his leave.

Felix has also bonded with the kids, and they do enjoy his company, but not as much as Nathan’s. Nathan was the best to them.

“Hello, baby. How are you and the kids doing?” my mom asked during one of her calls. Since I told her about it, she has been calling every day to check up on us and give words of encouragement.

“Hello, Mom. We are doing well,” I replied in a low and sad tone.

“Judith, are you crying again?” she asked in a sad tone. “You are breaking my heart, Judith,” she said, almost crying.

“Mom, I’m not crying,” I said in a clearer tone, trying to hide my sadness, which I knew she already sensed.

“Will you come back to Rome? Here you will be able to move on, and I can help look after the kids so you can focus on yourself,” she suggested.

“Rome?” I asked inquisitively.

“Yes, baby.”

I paused for a while, trying to weigh the options and look at the bright side of moving back to Rome. Rome is not a bad place to be, and I could really feel better back home, but then I concluded it wasn’t a good idea. I should stay and face my fears.

“Mom, for how long will I keep running away from my problems? When will I get the courage to stay and face my problems? Running away doesn’t solve problems; it only keeps them away for a while,” I said while tearing up.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said with a sympathetic tone. “You know what? Maybe I’ll come around then since I was planning to come for the wedding anyway.”

“No, Mom. You don’t have to come. I’m going to get through this and become stronger than ever. I can do it. I have done it before; I’m going to do it again,” I said affirmatively.

“Okay, baby. I trust you, and I will be praying for you,” she said before ending the call.

The plan to stay in London is solely for me to get stronger. I can’t keep avoiding this and thinking only about my well-being. The kids would need to change schools and environments too, which may likely affect them.

Vanessa also felt bad about the whole situation. She has always been there for me to give me hope and envision a brighter future.

“I know it hurts, Judith, I know. But this isn’t your fault. It’s okay to fall down, but staying down isn’t permitted. Cry or wail if you have to, but don’t do it for too long. We need you to be emotionally strong, especially for your kids,” she had advised during a call when I complained that my heart hurt and I didn’t know if I would ever get over it.

Like she suggested, I’m not going to stay down for too long. My kids need a mentally and emotionally fit mother, so I decided to see a therapist.

I booked an appointment with a private therapist. After three sessions of counseling, I concluded she hadn’t been much of a help. I guess I was too damaged beyond repair. I was hurt beyond remedy, but one thing kept me going and made me feel better-the desire to be a good mother and raise kids with good moral conduct.

“My kids must turn out better. I’m going to protect them from this mentally and physically ill society,” I said as I drove into the parking lot of a private bank. I had seen their job advert for an audit officer the previous day.

“I hope I get the job. I need to earn a living. My little savings have almost been exhausted on our basic needs,” I thought as I checked my account balance, which would barely be enough to last a month.

“Oh Lord, please help me,” I muttered silently as I opened the door to make my way into the bank.

Nathan’s POV

A month without Judith and the kids has been the most miserable period of my life. Even when my mother died, I never experienced this kind of misery. Since she left, I couldn’t do anything. I could barely eat or work. I mostly stayed inside my room for days without going out or seeing anyone, reminiscing over how I should have lived differently and better.

I kept suspecting John. I feel like he has a hand in it. The last time I saw him, he looked so happy, like he was celebrating the misery that was about to befall me.

“Hey Nathan, I was told you weren’t at work for three days now,” my father roared angrily.

“Father, she found out. Judith found out about the assault,” I said in a tone that conveyed regret and sadness.

“How?” he asked, shocked. “Did she find out herself, or did you tell her?”

“She found out herself, father,” I swallowed hard. “And now, she has already called off the engagement and left the mansion with the kids.”

“So what will happen now?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know, father, I don’t know. I have been indoors since then. I don’t even have the courage to go see her.”

“You should let her be for now. Seeing her will damage her further and might even ruin your chances with her,” he advised before finally ending the call after promising to check on me.

Father gave me some time off to heal and took over the administration himself. Healing was difficult. The pain kept getting deeper, and living became tougher.

Getting off work might not be the best decision, but it has definitely helped me to collect myself. I couldn’t bear it anymore when I decided to go to her house to plead for her forgiveness.

“I can kneel, wail, or do anything just to get her forgiveness,” I muttered as I dressed up.