𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞

Chapter Forty-One

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They say when it rains, it pours. Imani felt like she was literally walking around with a hole in her heart. She cried to sleep most nights and woke up with dry tear streaks on her face since Matthew broke up with her. It was like mourning; other times it felt as if it was physical pain, torturous and distressful to the point that Jamie noticed. Perhaps he saw her wiping tears off her face because she cried at the drop of a hat, or maybe he heard her sobbing.

She enjoyed nothing except Buscorp meetings. Imani thought that if anything could get her through her first heartbreak, it would be this platform. She liked the many chances she got to give her feedback and how much respect the team seemed to give her since she submitted her initial input on how to improve it.

Opening the fridge, Imani whimpered, wiping a lone tear from her cheek as she remembered the last time she'd opened Matthew's fridge. The scent of him behind her, his hand on the door above her head, whispering things only lovers knew and understood.

"Imani, are you okay?" Jamie's concerned voice threw her from melancholy, albeit temporarily, to turn around and smile at him. He was becoming so big, she thought, placing her beans and corn on the kitchen table and pulling him into her arms. She wanted to wail on his tiny shoulders, but she couldn't subject him to the trauma or the responsibility of taking care of her. She had sworn a long time ago that Jamie would have the best childhood memories—different from hers

"I'm okay, baby. I had a headache," she reassured, picking him up to place him on one of the chairs.

"Like last time?" he still looked worried. Imani shook her head, remembering the last time she had one of her headaches—the stabbing pain, the blackout for a couple of minutes due to pain which she thought was a blessing; he saw it all, and the troubled look in his eyes.

"I'm doing well,"

"No, you're not. You've been crying."

Imani kissed his head, lovingly ruffling his hair.

"Nothing to worry about; I'm just sad."

"Is it because we don't have money?"

She chortled, leaning her chin on his head.

"No. Why would you say it's money?"

"Mrs. Fernandos says that is why you work at night. So you can have money for us to eat."

"But I don't work at night anymore," Imani argued, going back to the fridge for cherry tomatoes and avocado, dropping them in a small plastic bowl. She wanted to make black beans and avocado salad.

"Does that mean we now have enough money?" she burst out in laughter and thought, Oh, a child has to be the purest human being.

"Enough for me to afford this tasty salad," she replied, mixing her ingredients in a glass bowl.

"But it doesn't taste like pizza," She threw him a tiny grin, adding lime juice and salt.

"I know, sweetheart," she murmured, serving it in a small dish. It was Saturday, one of her days off, and the first weekend without Matthew. She didn't go to class; her pain was still too fresh to sit down in a class while her heart was bleeding and living on memories.

She wished she had none. Living with memories of him was worse because every one of them was more beautiful than the last.

Like his crooked smile, the way he laughed when he was happy, his scent, and the feeling of lying next to him—his hoarse voice, the feel of her hands in his hair. Imani didn't know how to live with them without breaking or going insane.

She ate her salad while Jamie ate the last piece of pizza from last night for lunch. She knew she needed to cook dinner for him no matter how horrid and tired she felt.

"Can we see Matthew again?"

She paused from eating, a spoonful of salad touching her lips as she felt tears brimming.

Not again, especially not now. She scolded herself. Putting the spoon on the plate, Imani cleared her voice to keep from sobbing. "No, baby, I told you he is a busy man." He nodded. She knew he didn't understand much, but it felt like he figured that was not the correct time to talk about Matthew.

While they ate their lunch, Matthew was in his office with the Buscorp team working on mostly feedback, they had added a short video function which was slowly becoming a favourite among the users, but every time the clock ticked, he remembered it was Saturday. One of their days—his and hers. Making love to her, the sound of her giggles when he whispered dirty talk into her ear.

He had gone back to the day they broke up a thousand times since it happened, and each time he regretted it for a second before convincing himself it was better to know where he stood rather than go on in a relationship that didn't make him happy anymore.

He loved her—loved her more than anything or anyone in the world, but her rejection had hurt more than he could ever explain. It was like having your heart pulled out of your chest. But breaking up didn't mean he ceased to miss her—he did. Missed her so fucking much he thought he was losing his fucking mind.

A few times, he'd stopped talking because his brain had summoned her— her beautiful smile looking so natural, like she was in the room, eating a pear, one of her favorite fruit. He had never told her this, but he stocked them for her because he didn't like them, intending to have an endless supply of them at all times, and he could afford it. He was a billionaire after all.

Suddenly, feeling tired, Matthew dismissed his team to go home to their families, leaving him alone to look out of his window at the aesthetic landscape that covered the city.

He was alone again—a man with everything he could ever want and more and no one to share it with.

Maybe it was a curse for daring to have too much; perhaps God didn't like gluttons, he tried to remember his early years Bible study whether father Josè had ever mentioned it, but he couldn't. However, Matthew knew God was big into sharing, maybe he was expected to share his wealth with the less fortunate, yet he did. Ocean corporations gave millions of dollars to charity.

Are you sure it comes from your heart, or is it because of tax deductible? A mocking voice asked.

Fuck you! Matthew swore

He was a glutton; he accepted it. He has always wanted more and more. It was a hunger that stimulated him to desire more, but Imani's presence in his life had curbed this side of him.

He had stopped in order to focus on her and their relationship. Meeting her had been one of the best things to ever happen in his life.

He had known what it felt like to love someone—to wish them nothing but the best. Matthew had no regrets, heartbeat notwithstanding.

He couldn't trade his memories of her for anything, and neither did he begrudge his heart for loving her still.

It would take time, but Matthew was sure he would wake up one morning to find he didn't love her anymore. 

    *Xoxo*