A Chance With The PTSD Billionaire

The Confrontation

Dave's POV

Dave is a tall, introverted young child with striking green eyes and well-groomed hair.

"You are a dirty brat. Don't touch me. Who do you think is your dad, Dave?" Jack scorned forcefully.

Dave drew back, tears welling up. "I am not dirty, Dad. I just came out of the washroom a little while ago," he said, trying to approach him again.

"Didn't you hear me? Can't you listen? I said don't lay your filthy hands on me again, you obese jerk. Do you know how much these clothes cost?" Jack retorted.

"Dad, they are just some random clothes. You can even touch mine, please." Dave's eyes filled with tears.

"Run along. Head to your room or the bathroom and get washed up again. I have important work to do," Jack said irritably.

"Don't you like me? Why are you avoiding me?" Dave asked.

Jack ignored him and headed into the family library.

Tears rolled down Dave's face as he returned to his room. Dave is a toy enthusiast; his room is painted blue, his favorite color, with everything from his wardrobe to his bedsheets, clothes, and even his toothbrush adorned in blue. This is where he feels at home, apart from being with his nanny, Mrs. Adams.

Mrs. Adams has been like a mother to him since birth. His biological mother is often away for work, tours, and what she refers to as self-discovery and her "soft woman era."

Footsteps approached...

"Dave, Dave?" a voice called out.

He recognized the voice. It must be Mrs. Adams.

"Nanny, I'm here," he answered.

Seeing her, he clutched onto her, burying his face in her shoulders, and sobbed.

"It's alright, my little one. The world is cruel to everyone, but remember, you will always be my big baby. It's okay, do not cry," she said, trying to blink away her own tears.

"Why does everyone hate me, especially Dad? He calls me a brat and dirt. I just finished washing up with hand sanitizer before going to greet him. Nanny, look, am I dirty?" he asked.

"No, you are not. If you were, would I be touching you? You are my perfect child, my perfect gentleman. Keep that in mind at all times. You have the cutest smile ever," Mrs. Adams reassured him.

"Will Dad ever treat me well? Maybe he doesn't like me now, but I will keep washing up and being clean to please him," Dave said.

"You don't have to please anyone, my little prince charming," she reassured him. "Dry your tears, and let's go have some breakfast downstairs. I made your favorite meal: an omelet, chicken wings, and a glass of warm milk." She took him by the hand and led him to the dining table.

Breakfast was served, and they ate together until they were full.

"You love your meal, right?" Mrs. Adams asked.

"Yes, I did," he responded, nodding firmly.

"Now go to your room. I will join you shortly," Mrs. Adams added.

Mrs. Adams washed the dining table and plates, then decided to have a word with Jack, Dave's stepfather.

#### Mrs. Adams' POV

Mrs. Adams is a sixty-year-old woman who is fearless and courageous, always putting everyone in their place. She has silky white curly hair and adorns herself with beautiful jewelry on her ears, neck, wrists, and fingers. She is always neat. Her round eyes are getting weaker but remain beautiful behind her transparent glasses, which she never misses wearing.

"Jack," she called out, searching the library for him.

"Jack, Jack, Jack!" she repeated continuously.

"Yes, Mrs. Adams? Can I help you with anything?" he asked, looking confused.

"Keep that question to yourself. I came here to warn you about your bad behavior. Were you not loved at home where you grew up?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, very much, more than you can even imagine," Jack responded.

"I doubt that because you can't stay in this home that needs peace and unity and try to destroy it by intentionally harming that child with your hurtful words. That is child abuse. We all know you are his stepfather. Can't you at least give him fatherly love? He deserves to be loved, not abandoned.

"I thought you had changed from being an abusive father. Haven't you learned a lesson since the death of your only son?" she lamented.

"Please stop it, Mrs. Adams. Do not remind me of my past. Moreover, he died of an illness. It was too late to save him, but I never abused him until his death," he retorted.

"And which child, Dave? He is grown and should learn. I am just teaching him to be strong and not a weakling," Jack added.

"And is this how to teach that, with arrogance and hurtful words? How will he learn when you spoil his emotions and make him believe he is a dirty brat? What kind of a father are you?"

"I don't blame you. I blame the mother who left her child here to suffer in your hands. Mind you, I won't let you hurt that child again, not while I'm alive and breathing," she continued lamenting.

"In the loving memory of the late Mr. Jude, may his soul rest in peace, I will show Dave all the love you couldn't give him after your demise."

"I haven't even started yet," Jack replied.

"Why are you so wicked? He is just an innocent child wanting fatherly love. What is so difficult about that?" Mrs. Adams pleaded.

"I'm not interested. You are free to play those roles like you have been doing, ma'am. If you will excuse me," he said and quickly left to take a call.

Mrs. Adams exhaled and found a place to sit. She had been acting strong for a while, covering up her illness. It's been over two years since she has been suffering from heart disease, and she recently started showing symptoms of stage 2 lung cancer.

"I need to see my doctor," she murmured while coughing. Bringing out her handkerchief after coughing into it... Blood! Her eyes widened as tears filled them. "Who will take care of Dave when I'm gone? What about my grandchild, poor little child? I have to fight this illness and stay alive amidst these endless pains and challenges," she thought to herself.

At seven o'clock in the evening, it was time for Mrs. Adams to leave.

"Are you going already?" Dave asked.

He never wished for Mrs. Adams to leave and always prayed for the time not to reach 7 PM.

"Yes, my dear," she replied.

"I don't want you to go," he pleaded.

"I know, but I have some other work to do, and my grandchild is home alone. I will come back in the morning to be with you, okay?"

"Okay, do take care then," Dave said.

"Thank you. But before I go, I will put you to sleep first. Let's go to your room while I read you some poetry," she said happily.

An hour later, Dave was asleep, and Mrs. Adams was on her way home. With the heavy downpour, she had to hurry to get home on time because of her granddaughter's phobia. Just then, a heavy thunderstorm struck.

Earlier at 9:00 AM, the news had forecasted rain, a huge wave train, and a thunderstorm that could lead to a tsunami around 8:45 PM - 9:45 PM. Precautions and warnings were given to be indoors as soon as possible and to await official notifications that it was safe to return to vulnerable locations. Mrs. Adams hadn't taken it seriously, as the weather forecast often turned out inaccurate. But today, it was accurate.

"Oh my God, I have to get home to my granddaughter in one piece. Help me, Lord," she prayed.

Maria's POV

Maria is terrified of thunderstorms and rainfall, a fear rooted in the tragic incident of March 11th, 2020-the day her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Richard, died. Orphaned and left in the care of her grandmother, Mrs. Adams, Maria has since been haunted by nightmares of that fateful day whenever it rains. Despite her fears, Maria is a soft-spoken, warm-hearted, and resilient girl. She excels academically, consistently earning straight A's and helping her school win numerous competitions. Her diligence has earned her a scholarship, distinguishing her from the neat-freak, Dave.

As the clock strikes 9:00 pm, the windows rattle violently, trees and branches sway, and curtains flutter wildly in the wind.

"Where could Grandma be?" Maria wonders, sitting up in bed and wrapping the duvet tightly around her.

"I need to close the windows. The banging is unbearable, and I can't let the rain soak the couch and other household items." She rises to shut the windows, the room enveloped in darkness.

Although she prefers a dark room, she keeps the lights on until her grandmother returns home.

As she walks to the bedside lamp, it slips from her grasp due to the sudden gust from the open windows.

"Ouch! My hand..." she exclaims, but catches the lamp just in time to prevent it from breaking.

She places it back gently and heads to the kitchen, reaching for the sink to wash the blood from a cut on her index finger. "I need a bandage," she murmurs. Fortunately, she finds one easily in their well-stocked home.

While tending to her wound, Maria recalls something her mother had once told her: "If you have problems, no matter how hard, just keep going. Eventually, you'll find happiness." This memory helps her calm down.

"I have to stay calm; Grandma will be home soon," she reassures herself.

Despite her efforts to stay awake, Maria dozes off, curled up on the cold floor.

At 11:00 pm, the door opens, and Mrs. Adams walks in, immediately noticing Maria on the floor.

"Maria, my poor child," she calls out softly. "I'm so sorry for coming home late. Get up, please."

Maria, shivering from the cold and a terrible dream, reaches out for a hug. "Grandma," she whispers.

"I'm here, don't be scared," Mrs. Adams replies, embracing her tightly.

"Where have you been? I waited for you and even fell asleep. You didn't make it home early. Was there a problem at work? There was still time to get home before the rain started," Maria asks, her voice tinged with worry.

"No, there wasn't a problem at work. Yes, the rain delayed me, but I've just been very tired lately," Mrs. Adams responds wearily.

"Okay, I haven't had dinner yet. I was waiting for you," Maria confesses.

"Didn't I tell you not to wait up for me during dinner? What if you had slept and I couldn't wake you until morning? Be careful and don't repeat this next time," Mrs. Adams says, her voice firm.

"No, I want to eat with you as a family," Maria insists.

"I understand, and I'm proud that you think of me. But you must follow my instructions. I know what I'm doing. Do you understand?" Mrs. Adams replies, her tone softening. "Let me freshen up, and I'll join you shortly."

Mrs. Adams knows her time is limited and feels a pressing need to prepare Maria for independence.

She wants Maria to learn to take care of herself, not wait for anyone before eating. "It's better to face challenges with a full stomach than to be depressed and hungry," she thinks as she heads to the bathroom, her knees aching. "These knees need to hold out for a bit longer," she mutters, turning on the heater for a refreshing bath.

Maria, who has learned to cook from both her mother and grandmother, calls out, "Can I make us dinner now?"

"Yes, just a little pancakes and milk," Mrs. Adams replies.

Fifteen minutes later, Maria serves dinner. "Grandma, I'm done. Aren't you coming down already?"

"I'm almost done. Ta-da! Ooh, this looks delicious. Let's eat," Mrs. Adams says, smiling.

"Okay," Maria responds, pleased.

"I'll be registering for a competition at school on Monday. The best students will be picked after some tests. I hope I'm chosen. If we win, we can get some money for your knee balm and painkillers, or you can see a doctor. I noticed you were in pain earlier. I'm so worried about you," Maria says, her eyes welling with tears.

"You are so young, yet you always think of others first. Such a selfless soul. Remember to take care of yourself too, my dear. It's my duty to care for both of us, and I'm not going anywhere. I'll be with you until I walk you down the aisle. That will be the happiest day of my life. Thank you for prioritizing me, but you're too young to be burdened with these worries. Let me handle them. I'll get better with time, alright?" Mrs. Adams reassures her, holding her hands.

"After you see a doctor, right?" Maria teases.

Mrs. Adams glances at her and smiles. "You stubborn child."

"How did the meal taste? Did you enjoy it?" Maria asks.

"Yes, of course. It's delicious. You've become an excellent cook. I'm always proud of you. I'll correct you when you're wrong and praise you when you're right. You know that, right?" Mrs. Adams says.

"Yes, I do, Grandma," Maria replies.

"Good. Now, clear the table and get some rest," Mrs. Adams instructs.

"Sure, I will," Maria responds, lost in thought as she clears the table.

"I need to live longer," Mrs. Adams sighs inwardly.

"I need to work and study hard so Grandma won't have to stress herself for me anymore. I want to take care of her," Maria resolves silently.

"Goodnight, Grandma," Maria says.

"Goodnight, my child. Sleep well. Make sure you wake up early for school. The holiday is over," Mrs. Adams reminds her.

"I'll set my alarm," Maria retorts.

As they retire for the night, both are deep in their own thoughts, preparing for the challenges ahead.

Jack's POV

"Hello! This is Jack. Who am I speaking to, please?"

"Cheryl," came the soft reply.

Jack's eyebrows shot up in surprise. His ex-wife was calling him. What could have prompted this call?

"Yes, Cheryl. It's been over two years since our divorce. What could possibly be the reason for this call?" he questioned.

"I divorced you because you were so abusive and couldn't appreciate the family you had. You killed my child. You are a murderer," she said, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I called to let you know that after I left, I discovered I was pregnant. I haven't been able to tell you until now," Cheryl explained.

"What? You must be joking. You could have a future in comedy. Why don't you come over so I can help you get endorsements and partnerships? I have all the connections you need," Jack retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"What do you mean by that, Jack? Have I ever been unfaithful to you?" Cheryl asked, her voice trembling.

"How am I supposed to know? How sure are you that I'm the father of that child?" Jack said dismissively.

"You can't possibly think that. Do you believe I had an affair with someone else?" Cheryl asked, her voice breaking.

"So, you mean you've been pregnant all this time and even had a baby without my knowledge? What do you expect me to do? What would you like me to do? Do you think I will believe anything you're saying? I don't have any plans on having any child with you; it's quite stressful. No! It's stressful as hell.

"You know I'm married to someone else now, and bringing a child into this situation is a no-no for me. I've moved on. Please, just find a way to take care of yourself. I only married you because of your family background. Why do you keep stressing me out? I don't want to be part of your life anymore," Jack snapped and hung up the call.

Cheryl's POV

Cheryl blamed herself. It had been over two years. She wished she had told him earlier, but she had been too angry and overwhelmed with her own emotions. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she tried to blink them away.

She still loved him, despite how unfairly he had treated her. He had broken her to the point where she couldn't even recognize herself. She was lost, she was broken. Would she be a single mother?

"Are you okay?" her mother, who had been standing by the door during the entire call, asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me," Cheryl said, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Why do you lie to me? Even if you have to lie to someone, it shouldn't be me, Cheryl. I know how difficult it is to have a child without the father by your side. Secondly, he is abusive, and I don't even know how you coped with him. I'm so scared of letting him back into your life. What about the death of your late son? It was all his fault, not yours. You don't have to blame yourself for something you couldn't control or change. You've already been through so much trauma. I won't support any decision that will ruin your life further. You have to be strong and do this without him. Life will eventually get better, okay?" She leaned towards Cheryl and squeezed her knees.

"When, Mama? When will my life get better? I'm not fine, Mum. I'm not even close to being okay," Cheryl sobbed.

"You will get through this in time. You have to try to work on yourself and forget you ever had that man as your partner. You will be okay. Don't forget I'm always here for you, no matter what."

Cheryl couldn't help but sob a little more. She resented Jack so much, but she couldn't help it.

"Why would she love someone who treated her like a piece of rag? Did she enjoy getting beaten up, or was she just used to it? Why wouldn't he leave her thoughts? How could he move on so easily? How could she make this feeling disappear?"... She clutched her chest and cried harder.

Jack's POV

Jack knew he would deal with the repercussions later, but for now, he had a goal to achieve. He wasn't letting anything come between his plans. He had come too far to ruin it now. He had to call Cheryl and negotiate with her because she couldn't be a reason to derail the agenda he had been planning for years. He had to warn her not to call him again. He could offer her money to leave his life forever. Let them act as if they were dead to him. He paced the room restlessly, reaching for his phone.

Cheryl's phone rang again.

"Jack again?" her mother asked.

"Yes," Cheryl replied, hesitating. "Why is he calling back?"

"Pick up. We need to know what he has to say," her mother advised.

"What do you want me to do so you can leave me alone forever? Do you want money? How much do you want? Just name it. I really need you out of my life for good. I never wish to hear from you again, please," Jack's voice was cold, devoid of any warmth.

"Are you serious? Are you really asking me that? What do you take me for? So I will take money from you, and our child won't have a father figure in her life? So she won't see you again? I can only take money for her upkeep, not for you to abandon us forever. No, I can't let you do that to us, Jack," Cheryl said, clenching her fist.

Jack's mind raced. Despite all the distance, the conflicts, the breakup, and the divorce, Cheryl still seemed to harbor feelings for him. She wasn't sure how he felt about her, but she still wanted him back despite everything he had done. She believed that deep inside, he was capable of love. He would change with time. But to him, they were all false beliefs.

"I think you're not ready yet. Think it over. I don't want an answer right away. I'm giving you two days for feedback, and if I don't get a reply at the end of two days, do not call my phone anymore. I will be waiting for your call," Jack said, hanging up immediately.

Cheryl stared at her phone, stunned. "I can't... Hello, hello, Jack." He really hung up on me? she thought, bewildered.

"What manner of man is this? I'm not sure God created this one in His image and likeness," her mother said, shaking her head.

"I'm tired," Cheryl continued sobbing.

"You have to take it easy on yourself, Cheryl," her mother reassured her.

A cooing noise came from the room. Cheryl's mother went to pick up Tee from her stroller. The baby had been playing with her toys all this while.

"I'm taking Tee for a walk and will bring her back in a few hours. Just have some rest. I will call to check on you soon," her mother said. "Tee, say bye to mummy."

"Bye," Tee cooed.

Cheryl let out a sigh of relief. She had just released a huge burden she had been carrying for over two years.