Page 5 of My Forbidden Billionaire
“I’m sorry, Clem,” I say, cupping her face gently in my hands. “But it doesn’t mean I love you any less. You’re the most important thing in the world to me,” I add.
She looks up at me with eyes so full of sorrow and loneliness that my heart aches for her. I pull her close, hoping to pour every ounce of love I feel for her into this embrace. As she buries her face into my chest, I can feel her take a deep breath.
“I love you too, Daddy,” she whispers.
I hold her tightly, feeling the weight of her small body against mine. Being a single parent is never easy, but moments like this, when we lovingly embrace, make it all worth it.
After a few minutes, she pulls away from me, and yawns widely, her eyes starting to droop. “Come on, Clementine, it’s time for bed,” I say, standing up and holding out my hand.
She takes it, and we walk upstairs. “Can we read a story first?” she asks.
“Of course, sweetie,” I say, walking into her room. “Which one do you want tonight?”
She looks up at me, a mischievous smile on her lips. “The one about the frog prince.”
I chuckle softly, knowing that’s been her favorite bedtime story since she was three. “All right. Let’s hop-to-it then,” I say, winking at her.
She giggles, her eyes lighting up as she bounces onto her bed and snuggles under the covers. I sit down next to her and begin reading.
“Do you think maybe one day you’ll get married again?” she asks, interrupting my reading.
I pause for a moment, taken aback by her question. “Why do you ask that, sweetie?”
“All my friends have moms and I want one too...”
Her words hit me like a punch in the gut.
I take a deep breath, feeling a sudden wave of guilt wash over me.
I knew this day would come.
Clementine is ten years old, of course she’s starting to crave a mother figure in her life. All she knows of her mother is what she sees in pictures.
She never got the chance to meet her, to feel her love and warmth.
Chelsea was the most amazing woman I’ve ever known. She was my high school sweetheart and the love of my life. She was the kind of person who lit up the room with her smile and exuded kindness and warmth wherever she went.
We married soon after high school and it felt like we were invincible. We had everything we needed as long as we had each other. She was so supportive of my career, even when it meant long hours and business trips. She always believed in me and my dreams, and I felt like I could conquer the world with her by my side.
I still remember the moment we found out she was pregnant with Clementine. It was the happiest day of our lives. We had always talked about starting a family and it was finally happening. Chelsea was over the moon and we couldn’t stop smiling.
I remember the day I took her to the hospital. The joy and anticipation I felt was palpable—we had been waiting for that moment for what felt like forever.
But life had other plans for us.
The labor was difficult, and Chelsea’s health deteriorated rapidly. I stood by, helplessly, as the doctors tried everything they could to save her. But it was too late. The love of my life slipped away, leaving me alone with a tiny newborn in my arms.
It took me a long time to come to terms with my loss and accept my new reality. I threw myself into my work, trying to distract myself from the pain. But I soon realized that wasn’t the answer. My daughter needed me, and I needed her. We were each other’s family, and I was determined to be the best father possible.
We’ve been through so much together.
We’ve grown up together.
And it’s hard to imagine life any other way.
I look down at Clementine, her eyes still fixed on me, waiting for an answer. “I don’t know,” I say, finally. “I’ve been so focused on raising you that I haven’t really thought about it.”
“Well, maybe you should think about it, Daddy. You deserve to be happy too,” she says, placing a small hand on my arm.