Mend My Heart

Chapter 4

Theodore's P.O.V

If there was a single word that I could use to describe my life, perfect was definitely not it. In fact, my life was far from it. Sure, everybody knew me as the rich, successful and powerful young man from England who had somehow risen to fame. Hell, I was even on the Forbes list of wealthy individuals.

Now, I don't love to brag believe me, but when other people do it on my behalf, I don't quite mind. At the end of the day, I am just that same kid from East London, who was singlehandedly raised by a hardworking and tenacious single mother. I know what you're probably wondering, what about my father? Well, I never got to know him. He died a few months before I was born. I hadn't even seen a picture of him in my life so I had no idea what he looked like. Those who did know him say I look like him a lot.

Life wasn't always this rosy for me. Growing up dirt broke, I had to get a job when I was really young in order for me to help my mum with bills. Due to my brilliant mind, I managed to get a scholarship at Oxford, did a double major in business administration and engineering. Once done with all those academics, I got a loan and started my own things first off in the UK. Before I knew it, I had gone international and in under two years. I still pinch myself every now and then to remind myself that this isn't some elaborate dream; that this is actually my life.

As fate would have it, I fell in love along the way. And bloody hell did I fall hard, not to mention dangerously. If I could exchange all my money for a chance to go back in time and avoid that unfortunate event, trust me I would. Love isn't worth it. All it is good for was heart break. And something that I've come to terms with is that my heart is irrevocably broken.

It simply can't be mended.

Right now, I was in Malibu, one of the cities that I have my many businesses in. This place was indeed lovely but I could never bring myself to move to the States. I had a soft spot for Britain, that little island with the dreary weather. But that also meant that I had to from time-to-time jet between Europe, Asia and the States every now and again.

I had just wrapped up my mid-morning meeting with a small company dealing in steel that had caught my attention when my phone went off. And surprise surprise, it was none other than Yolanda Heinz. She was a good friend of mine, and yes, we have fooled around a couple of times. I let her know that I wasn't looking for a serious commitment, to which she was very disappointed about (serious, her ego was so massive, and she thought she was such a great catch) but she understood. But that did not stop her from trying anything and everything to capture my attention.

Grinding my teeth in annoyance, I answered in a bright tone. "Yolanda, darling. So good to hear from you." Not.

"Theo babe, how are you? Do you want to grab lunch with me at Ooh La Food? I'm actually on my way up to your office. See you in a sec," she chirped happily and then ended the call. Great, she was already here which meant that I couldn't get out it. Looking behind me, I cursed audibly at my predicament. I was some thirty stories up in the air, so jumping out of the window was decidedly not an option.

When the door burst open, I put on the most counterfeitly believable grin I could muster. "Yolanda," I beamed at her as she strutted in in her impossibly high stiletto heels. There was no denying that Yolanda was indeed beautiful but in a villainous and unrealistic way. I guess that was another reason to add to list as to why I could never be serious about her.

Once she got to where I was behind my desk, she enveloped me in an uncomfortable hug, making sure she smashed her huge breasts flush against my chest. Scandalous, I know. Hesitantly returning the gesture, she squealed and then let me go. "It feels like I haven't seen you in ages! How have you been?" she asked, perhaps genuinely. I couldn't quite tell because her face was more or less caked in makeup, as usual.