A Deal With The Amnesiac Billionaire

CHAPTER 1: WHO AM I?

A man slowly opened his eyes, gaining consciousness. He was lying face down on the floor. A sharp pain surged through his head, causing him to squint, groaning in pain.

He was hit with a daze of sudden dizziness, which made him unable to get on his feet as he tried to. So, he sat on the floor gently.

He placed his right hand behind his head where he felt a great deal of pain and a thick warm substance there. Bringing his hand forward, he saw that it was blood.

'What the hell! Why am I bleeding?' he reasoned within himself.

He quickly looked around to see if he would find something to tie around his head to stop the bleeding. He saw the bedsheet on a bed and hurriedly tore a piece from it, and tied it around his head.

He had to be gentle and endure the pain while he did the tying. He groaned and sighed in relief when he was done.

Finally feeling a little bit of comfort, he looked around, observing where he was. He realized he was in a luxurious room. The room was tastefully finished, with state-of-the-art items.

He got up slowly, supporting himself with the king-size bedframe. Where his hand was placed, he felt something sticky there, causing him to look to see what it was.

He saw some blood and a slight crack. He softly placed his hand behind his head, wondering if that was where he might have hit his head. But he couldn't recall.

The place seemed extremely quiet, and it made him wonder where in the world he was.

He saw the door and began walking over to it. Suddenly, he felt the room sway a bit. He reflexively reached out his arms placing them on the wall, steadying himself.

'What was that? An earthquake?' he reasoned within.

'No. It can't be.'

He continued to the door when it got stable and opened it. He saw that there was a staircase leading upwards, so he went up the staircase and arrived at what looked like the living area.

But looking through the glass walls, he saw that he was on the lower deck of a boat, and beyond the glass walls, he could see that the boat was surrounded by water. The boat was brought offshore.

"How the hell did I get here? Where the heck am I?" he asked with a seriously perplexed look.

A surge of pain ran through his head once again, causing him to wince in pain, squinting his eyes as he bent his head.

Lifting his head, he jerked, startled at the sight of a redhead lady.

He noticed she seemed a bit afraid. He could only furrow his brow slightly due to the pain he felt, as he looked at her.

"Hon- Honey. Are you okay?" the lady asked, fidgeting.

He hesitated a bit from responding. He could see a bit of fright in her, but she was also doing her best to conceal it. He also noticed a side of her face was reddish, as though she was hit.

"Do we know each other?" he asked in response.

The lady furrowed her brow, a bit puzzled at his question.

"You mean you don't recognize me?" she inquired. But the man remained silent, observing her. He tried to read her, being a bit cautious.

"We're married. I'm Clarice, your wife," she revealed. "Don't you recognize me?"

"You're my wife?" he asked with wide eyes of surprise, and confusion all at once.

"How don't I remember you?" he asked further.

"You don't?" Clarice asked, furrowing her brow, as she inched towards him slowly.

"No," he answered. "I woke up from the floor with a concussion behind my head, and I didn't know where I-"

"Hey buddy!" a man said walking in on the duo, interrupting them.

Clarice's husband looked at him. One could tell he wondered who the man who walked in on them was.

"Uh- You look, pale man. And why do you have your head tied with that cloth thingy?" the man asked, with a concerned look.

"Do you know me?" Clarice's husband enquired.

"He'll yeah! I'm your best friend, Dan. Don't you remember?"

"No. He doesn't," Clarice replied. "He had a concussion and seems to have lost his memory."

"Jeez! When? How did that happen?" Dan said approaching him. He looked behind and saw his bloodied head.

"Oh my God! You need a doctor," Dan said with a sense of urgency. Clarice quickly grabbed her phone as she put a call across to someone.

"Mmm. Careful there," Clarice's husband groaned, moving his head from Dan's grip.

"Sorry man. But how are you still alive after such impact?"

Clarice's husband didn't give much thought to Dan's question. His head felt heavy so he sat down on the "C" shaped couch.

"The doctor will meet us right when we dock," Clarice said and sat beside her husband. She went ahead to touch his neck, checking his temperature.

"My goodness! You're burning up," she said with concern.

"Who am I?" Clarice's husband asked softly.

"You're Michael. Michael McAlister."

Clarice then looked and reached for a wallet beside her, and pulled out something.

"Here's your ID," she said, handing it to him.

He looked at the ID, and indeed, it was him in the ID. The name Clarice called matched what was in the picture.

"Also have a look at this," she said, handing him her phone.

He looked at the screen and saw that it was a picture of their wedding. They were both smiling generously in each other's arms.

She flipped to the next, and it was also a picture of their wedding, and he saw that Dan was his best man.

Flipping through a couple of more photos of them on vacation and other occasions, Michael was finally convinced that they all did know each other.

"You're my wife," he said, turning towards her.

"And I'm your best friend," Dan playfully added, laughing softly.

"How could I have forgotten everything? Forgotten you?" Michael asked, feeling a bit distressed.

"I don't know honey. But what matters is we're here with you. And we'll be fine," Clarice said hugging him affectionately.

As they broke their hug, Michael looked at her and asked a question.

"Why do you seem scared of me? Was I in any way responsible for the mark on your face?"

Clarice looked away, gulping.

CHAPTER 2: THE ANSWER.

They finally docked and the doctor who awaited their arrival, based on the urgency expressed by Clarice, attended to Michael.

Seeing the depth of the wound, he had to stitch it up and gave him some painkillers and prescription drugs.

The doctor also recommended to Clarice to make sure Michael got adequate rest and was fed foods rich with iron nutrients, fruits, and vegetables, to help him regain the blood loss.

When he was done, he got his stuff and left.

Michael had noticed that while the doctor attended to him, Clarice and Dan seemed to be discussing quite seriously, and occasionally threw glances at him. He didn't make a big deal out of it.

Having escorted the doctor off the boat, Clarice and Dan returned to where Michael was.

"So, are you feeling better?" Clarice enquired, sitting beside him.

"Yeah. I feel a bit more relieved, thank you."

Clarice nodded her head slightly. Dan's phone buzzed, drawing his attention to it.

"The cab just arrived. Why don't you both head home and get some rest, while I take care of things here, hmm?" Dan suggested.

"Sure," Clarice answered. She got on her feet and helped Michael up, and they exited the boat.

The cab driver opened the door as they approached his vehicle. They got in and he began his commute.

While in transit, Michael leaned his head sideways, avoiding placing the back of his head, where the injury was against the headrest of the car seat. He looked out the window and saw different signposts.

"Miami."

"What'd you say?" Clarice asked.

"Miami. I keep seeing that name everywhere. Is that where we are?" Michael responded. He had muttered the word without realizing it.

"Yes," Clarice replied.

While they drove, Michael drifted off to sleep. After a while, he jerked out of sleep. Clarice tapped him on the lap.

"We're home," she declared.

They lived in a gated community in a highbrow area of Miami.

A slight headache ran across Michael's head, causing him to squint his eyes, bearing the pain. When he opened his eyes, he saw the cab driver already opened the door for him, and he gently alighted from the car.

Clarice quickly paid the driver his fare as she held Michael by the elbow, and supported him up the concrete stairs that led to the front porch of their house.

The cab driver got into his vehicle and drove off.

Michael couldn't care less that the house looked amazing. At that moment, his well-being was all that mattered. He needed some food and adequate rest, as per the doctor's request.

As they got in, Clarice led her husband to the bedroom and took him to the shower. As she began undressing him, Michael stopped her.

"Let me take care of this by myself," he requested.

"Sure," she shrugged, looking a bit disappointed. He knew she was his wife, but he felt uncomfortable getting naked before her. The idea of them being married hadn't fully registered in his head yet.

"I'll go fix you something," Clarice said, excusing herself.

Michael had a long hot shower, not letting water touch his head. When he was done, he put on a white robe he saw hanging in the bathroom, with his name branded on it.

He then went into the bedroom and lay on the bed.

Shortly after, Clarice returned with some food and he ate the quantity his appetite could allow at that moment.

"Thank you," he appreciated her. She nodded and got up, heading out.

"Clarice?" Michael called. She halted, turning towards him.

"You've not answered the question I asked you."

Clarice gulped, hesitating a bit.

"Get some rest, honey," she replied, cracking up a smile. Then she walked out of the room.

Michael laid back down on the bed, placing the pillow under his neck, giving the back of his head some elevation.

Clarice's incessant avoidance of the topic began making him think he was guilty of being terrible towards her.

______________

A week passed and Michael got better. The doctor had visited them at home two more times, checking up on Michael. With every visit, the doctor gave the wound a fresh dressing, seeing how it healed quite impressively quickly.

Michael's head didn't hurt as much as it did before.

On this day, while he was resting in his bedroom, he heard some noise coming from downstairs. He got up and gently walked out to see what was going on.

From the loft, he saw an elderly man and woman with Clarice in the living room. Dan was also seated amongst them. The man spoke with so much rage. But Michael didn't know exactly what he was angry about.

As Michael slowly walked down the stairs, the man caught sight of Michael. He seemed to be even more angered at the sight of Michael.

"You malicious scumbag! How dare you lay a finger on my daughter?" he snarled, getting up, as he walked threateningly towards Michael.

Michael didn't know how to react to what he heard. But that was the confirmation of what he suspected.

"Since the fall didn't kill you, I'll just finish you off myself!"

Clarice's father pounced on Michael, grabbing him by the neck.

Michael maintained a towering height of over six feet and two inches tall, in comparison to Clarice's father who was just five foot and seven inches tall.

The forceful grab reawakened the subsiding pain in Michael's head.

"Whoa, easy now Mr Donald," Dan quickly held his hands, breaking off his grip on Michael.

Michael bent down, biting down on his teeth, closing his eyes as he endured the surge of pain he felt. He could hear loud voices, but they seemed distant.

As the pain subsided, he opened his eyes and saw that Dan was holding Mr Donald back from coming at him. Clarice stood beside the woman who came with her father. She looked sorry and fragile.

After a while, Dan was able to calm Mr Donald down. But he stood, still huffing.

"Clarice now is the best time to answer the question I asked you. Please," Michael requested calmly.

Clarice looked at the woman she stood beside and turned towards Michael.

"Yes, Michael. Yes, you have been terrible to me. Despite all the love, care, and sacrifices, you treat me like trash. You abuse me physically and emotionally. I don't know what I ever did to deserve all that."

Tears welled up in Michael's eyes and ran down his cheeks. He didn't know why he cried, but he found himself feeling awful. But about what exactly, he wondered. He couldn't recall anything that he was being accused of.

He wondered if the amnesia was a blessing in disguise or a cause.

"I needed to wait until you got a little bit better before doing this. But I can't wait anymore."

Saying that, she brought out a paper from her bag, and walked over to Michael, handing him the paper.

Looking at the paper, his heart broke. He was served a divorce.

CHAPTER 3: AWAY FROM HOME.

Michael looked at the divorce paper, feeling terrible.

'So I was this bad huh? Bad to the point the woman who once loved me no longer wants me in her life again? What sort of monster was I?'

Negative thoughts flooded his head. He sighed and looked at his wife.

"Clarice, I am so sorry for all the terrible things I did to you. I don't know what I may have put you through, but if you could please give me another chance to"

"Hold it right there!" the woman said interrupting rudely. "You've been given enough chances, so there's no going back this time. Just sign the divorce and let's all be done with this."

"Please, Clarice. Let's try to work things out," Michael pleaded.

"Work things out?" Clarice snorted. "That's what you said before we went on the boat. But do you know what happened?"

Michael stood speechless, already knowing she was about to say something negative he did.

"You picked a fight with me over something so trivial and ended up hitting me. In defense, I pushed you away, and that's how you got that concussion."

Clarice wiped her teary eyes, sniffing, as she looked hatefully at Michael. He could see it in her eyes. But with all that she said, he couldn't bring himself to accept that he was a wife-beater. He knew in his heart of hearts that he could never do such a thing.

"I know I don't deserve it, but please, reconsider Clarice. Please, you're my wife."

"If she gets back with you, it'll be over my dead body," Mr Donald said resolutely.

"Clarice, I've been a witness to all that you've been through. But for the sake of the three years of marriage, reconsider, just as Michael's asking. We're not perfect," Dan said.

Clarice glared at him with so much fury that he took his gaze away from her.

Michael sighed, wiping his face, gaining some relief from the headache he felt. He knew it was pointless begging any further.

"Alright then," he nodded. "Since this is what you want, I'll give it to you. Hand me a pen."

Clarice reached into her bag and handed him a pen. Michael sat down and read through the paper a bit, and went on to sign the divorce, not caring to know what the divorce settlement included.

"I truly am sorry, for everything, Clarice," he said as he handed the signed paper back to her.

He walked back into his bedroom got his wallet, and headed downstairs gently. As he walked outside, Dan accompanied him outside.

"I'm so sorry pal. This is awful," Dan sighed disappointedly. "So, what are you going to do?" Dan asked him.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll just get a motel or something, and figure out the rest later," he replied, exhaustedly.

A taxi passed by and he beckoned on it, so it stopped. Before he got in, he turned and looked at the house that for a week was his home. But not anymore.

"Call me via this number, so we can meet up later. I need to go take care of something," Dan said, handing him his card.

Michael nodded in acknowledgment, and then the taxi drove off.

"So, where are we headed, sir?"

"To any motel," Michael responded. The taxi driver looked through the rearview mirror and saw how gloomy his passenger was. But since he didn't want to be nosy, he shoved aside his concern.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Mr Donald and his wife had their hands over their daughter's shoulders.

"Good riddance to him. You'll never have to worry about him. We're here to support you on your journey to recovery," Mrs Donald said.

"Yes, sweetie. We're here for you," Mr Donald affirmed. "He's lucky he didn't put up a fight. He's even more lucky we didn't press charges. I wonder why you stopped us from doing that sweetie."

"There was no need for that," Clarice responded in a childish tone.

"All that matters now is you're safe," Mr Donald said, caressing her hair affectionately.

______________

Michael sat on the bed in the motel he lodged in. He was sick of moping and feeling bad about himself. He needed to get out and be active.

He hadn't even dressed the wound afresh for two days. So, he needed to get out. He had been indoors for two whole days.

"I must have had a job. How else was I able to own that house, and even that boat?" he reasoned out.

"I need to find out more about myself. Not having any idea about myself is killing me," he finally resolved.

He looked at the side table beside him and picked up the card Dan gave him. He wanted to dial his number but refrained from doing so.

He then grabbed his wallet and headed out. He first went to a pharmacy and had his concussion tended to. He saw that it had healed reasonably well, but still chose to have it dressed one more time.

As he headed out when he was done from the pharmacy, he boarded a taxi immediately.

He told the taxi driver to take him to Dan's residence. Dan had told him where he lived previously, asking him to come over, if he needed to. But he hadn't taken him up on that offer.

While in transit, he wondered why certain folks threw glances at him. But he ignored them.

Arriving at his destination, he alighted from the vehicle and paid the driver. He stood before the house and sighed softly.

As he walked to the front porch, he wondered why the front porch looked unwelcoming with things kept carelessly there.

He got to the door and rang the doorbell. But there was no answer. He rang the doorbell a couple of times, and there was still no answer. He saw that the lights within were on so someone was definitely in. So, he rang it one more time.

"Just a minute."

Michael recognized the voice. It was Dan's.

"You're quite fast. I wasn't expecting the delivery this soo-"

Dan halted his speech as he unlocked and swung the door open. His eyes widened in utter shock when he saw it was Michael at the door.

"Hey, Dan."

"He- Hey, Mike. What are you doing here?"

"I came so we could talk. I hope you don't mind?" Michael asked.

"Uh- Yeah. The- That's not a problem," Dan replied, looking into the house.

Michael noticed how fidgety Dan got, and wondered what was wrong. He was putting on a bathrobe.

"Oh, I almost forgot. I have something to take care of-"

"I hope it's the delivery guy. Because boy, I've worked up quite an appetite after the nonstop pounding you gave-"

Clarice froze in shock when she sighted Michael at the door.

Michael saw that she was putting on just a bikini. He couldn't believe what his eyes beheld.