The Billionaire and I

"Sometimes a question can hurt more than an answer"

I couldn't even remember how I got home but I have never been happier to see the large double doors outside our front porch. As I rush up to the top of the marble stairs to reach the door as fast as I could; warm air greeted me inside when I pushed the doors open.

"I see you have gotten wet in the rain," my mother said appearing from the living room. I nodded. Of course my mother assumed and wouldn't careless if it was rain or my tears.

"Well get ready; I need to talk to you," she said. Not even glancing at her own daughter. So I sighed silently and walked up to my room.
My phone vibrated in my pocket as I closed the door to my room behind and sat down.

Did I want to see the message? Was it from Lauren or from him?

I opened the message.

;it's not what you think

I scoffed and blocked the number on my phone as I make my way to my bed.

I laid down feeling the warmth and comfort the blankets give me like the comfort of my mother who could never be able to give me.

As I thought aloud; so it had been true, he was really cheating on me.
I never saw it coming, for how long was it going on?

Did he even go on those business trips like he said or was he just hiding in his house making out with that stupid dumb bimbo?

Sometimes a question can hurt more than an answer, I sobbed while I tugged on my blanket and reached for my stuffed pig.

I closed my eyes under the cover sniffling. The past four years I had finally given my heart to him with much caution, and even if I was so careful I was still betrayed.

So what now? I asked Pumba my stuffed toy pig and comprehend everything
It's just that... I never thought that some things are meant to be broken.

Imperfect.

Chaotic.

It's how life is.

But the worst part of it I partially knew I will get my heart broken. Allie and Lauren warned me about it but I didn't want to believe that somewhere along the line we would eventually break-up. I recall telling myself it was just one of those things that just happens. I didn't think or planned it. I just went for it. So the joke is on me.

I walked downstairs finally dressed in warm comfortable pyjamas to the private lounge area where my parents are probably are.

I opened the door to the private lounge area where my parents are probably are; cautiously catching their attention to me. My father smiled calling me over to the couch while my mother stared at me, probably hating on my outfit giving me disapproving looks while she stood near the fireplace.

My mother objects to a girl wearing pyjamas and onesies because she thinks girls should only wear night gowns to sleep-in but I couldn't care less because pyjamas are warm and cozy,

"Come Anna, take a seat"

I have to admit I always was my daddy's little girl. I was always with him; he was my real parent. My mother had never acted like a parent she never showed emotional or physical contact, something every child got as a kid but that I didn't. I don't even recall the last time my mother attempted to hug me ever since my older brother died at the age 6. I couldn't remember much since I was only four years old back then.

Sitting on the couch next to my dad he wrapped an arm around me and I placed my legs on the seat like an Indian enjoying the fire.

"Is everything al-"