The Bad Boy's Wife (Book 2)

Chapter One - She's not dead

2 years
104 weeks
822 Days
17,520 hours
1051200 minutes
63072000 seconds

  Damien looks carefully at his reflection in the mirror, it had been a while since he was in the same trance. He looked a little older but he never stopped having his irresistible appearance, he still had dozens of women behind him, women which he rejected often. It was not because he did not find them attractive or simply because none of them called his attention. It was due to the fact that his heart belonged to only one woman, whose life was given a pause to, he did not know whether to be prepared to mourn or to challenge himself to have to start over with her only if she awakens with Amnesia. He was no longer the same, he became cold and closed up. He pushed everyone who tried to help him. He walked away from everyone and tried to be as nonsocial as possible. He hated that people talked about her in past tense. But what he hated the most was when they'll ask him if he was okay, he thought it was the most stupid question to ask during the situation he was in. It was obvious that he was slowly dying inside. It was not so remarkable since he did not go out to the public eye much. There are innumerable times that he wept and drank liquor to ease his suffering.

Time passed, things changed drastically. People went on their way, the seasons change, day and night pass in a blink of an eye and all that remains to be done is to move on. Everything seemed to be perfect for those who did not see the misfortune that reached them.  Two long years had passed since that day, and he still does not surpass it. Today was one of those days when he asks 'why her?', He knew there was not much hope that she would wake up, but he did not want to accept it. A part of him still had faith that he would see her standing again and with a smile on her face, but his wait seems to be getting longer and longer.

  "Same shit, different day," he says to himself. He rolls his eyes and sighs before turning off the light and leaving the bathroom.

The familiar room full of memories has remained intact for two years. He never lets anyone in, he thought it was the only thing close to her that he still had. When he had to wash the sheets of his bed, he did it with the same products that she always used. The clothes in her closet were still hooked and her makeup was all lying on the mirror table. He never bothered to put it in order because it made him feel as if time had not passed.

The room was always dark, not a single glimpse of light would come inside. He did the same thing he would do every morning. Wake up, take a shower, get dress up and go to work. It was a cycle he has begun to adapt to ever since he took the chief executive position on behalf of his retired father. The job was harder then he thought it was, being responsible for hundreds of lives is not easy. Signing papers, making decisions, hiring and firing employees, etc.

Damien's phone rang but he let it go to voicemail. He knew the only two people that had the guts to call him so early in the morning were his secretary Sarah and his best friend Michael.

Michael was the only friend he had ever since the tragic event took place. He stuck by him, even after the ridiculous amount of times Damien tried to push him away, he stayed. He feared Damien giving up and because he knew his best friend was the only person in the world that saved him when him himself needed to be saved.

Damien groans when the phone rings again for the fifth time that morning. "Fuck me." He rolled his eyes.

He sets the fruity pebbles cereal box on the table, and walks over to the coffee table where he had place his phone to charge.  The caller ID read Secretary Sarah.

"Yes?" he says sternly, as he walks back to the kitchen to finish eating his breakfast.

"Good morning Mr. Lockwood, I apologized to be calling at such hour, but Mr. Roberts has had a particular way of pressing me into calling you sir." Sarah says with a shaky voice on the other side of the line.