Billionaire Bad Boy, Broken Underneath

Chapter 20

Ezra's POV

It's that day again. The day that marks the very beginning of my pain. The day I wish never happened. The day I lost the one woman who meant the world to me. My Mother. You would think the pain lessens as the years go by. That has never been the case for me. I still feel it like it happened yesterday. The pain has stayed fresh over the years. Some years, I would feel exactly what I felt when I held my mum in my arms as she took her last breath. Other years, the pain would be much more.

The entire day of my mum's death anniversary in the past years has been about me, sitting by her graveside, staring at her tombstone, wondering why a soul so peaceful is missing from this world. The only way I can get through the day is to spend it beside her. I've never missed coming here every single year. Not even once. So I'm here now, like every other year, sitting motionless, staring at the inscriptions on the stone like it would somehow talk back to me and give me the answers I so much crave to hear.

It has always been my mum and I for as long as I can remember. I never knew my dad growing up. Mum told me he died at sea but I just knew it wasn't true. I knew he got her pregnant and went ahead to abandon her to fend for herself and the baby. I had stumbled on a letter she had mailed to him, seeking assistance which was mailed back. At age 9, I was what you'd call a computer wizard. I've always been very good with computers ever since I was a child. I would use my allowance to pay for time to use the computers at the internet cafe down the street every afternoon until my mum noticed and saved up for months to purchase a fairly used computer set for me.

I still cannot forget how elated I was that day. I did a little digging and found out my dad was in a different city, living with his girlfriend at the time while my mum and I had to go through all we went through just to survive. I later found out he died at a shooting two years later but I never told my mum. I knew she still loved him. They were actually married but I guess he decided to walk out on her when he could no longer fulfill his responsibilities towards his family. What a coward. I hated him. Still do.

My mum made sure I never lacked the basic needs every child should have. She worked different jobs in very unfavourable conditions. My mum worked herself to the bone, looking older than her actual age but she didn't mind. She would always tell me she'd do anything to put a smile on my face. I told her to stop some of the menial jobs that clearly affected her health but she never listened. As long as it put food on the table, she did it anyway. She had always had a very weak immune system from birth so it didn't take long till she develope liver cancer. She stopped working after the illness got worse and I equally had to drop out of school in 7th grade.

I remember coming home one late morning from delivering newspapers around the neighborhood. That was what I did at age 12 to help put provide for my mum and I. I couldn't work a proper job because of my age so we couldn't even afford her medications. All I could manage to provide was groceries. I had purchased some groceries from the store with my daily pay and rushed home to cook up something for my mum. I went straight into our small kitchen and quickly prepared some food for us.

I took it into her room and placed it by her bed. I sat beside her and I assisted her into a sitting position. She grew weaker by the day. She only leaned on me as she couldn't even sit by herself. I felt a tear drop down on my skin from her eyes and I looked down at her. She held my young hands tight and she called out my name in a small voice. Her last words to me were ‘I love you, Ezra' before she took her last breath in my arms. She wasn't able to eat the food I made. She couldn't wait until I made enough money to afford good medical care for her. She smiled at me and left me all alone in this world.

From then on, I moved from one foster care to the other which happened to be a terrible experience until I landed at Randall's house which only proved that the treatments I received from past foster home was just child's play. I didn't shed a tear when my mum died. I couldn't do it. I felt that if I cried, it would only make it feel real. Till this day I still haven't shed a tear for my mum. I would only sit here, numb, staring at nothing before returning home.

This year I guess is one of those years where the pain would be unbearable. I want to cry. I want to scream her name out. But I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. I feel trapped inside. I can't let go of this hurt. It's a different kind of pain. I can't explain it. I left my house last night and I've been here ever since. I don't usually bring my phone with me when I visit. I don't need the distractions. It's late in the evening. I know that because the sun has set. I sit here for what feels like hours until I hear footsteps approach me. I don't turn to check who it is. I don't really care. Until I hear my name called by the only voice I could recognize anywhere despite just knowing her for a short while. Carissa calls my name for the second time and I turn, not fully, just a bit to catch the shadow of her presence.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. My voice sounds tired. Those are the first words I utter today.

“You've been away all day. I was told you'd be here. It got really late and I was worried so I came looking” her voice, a little above a whisper. I almost don't hear her.

I stand up and turn to face her completely. I'm surprised that I don't find her presence repulsing, considering my mood and where we are. I'm almost glad she's here. I stare at her deeply and wonder why she cares so much about me even when I'm mostly rude to her. I say nothing as I walk past her and she follows behind.

We get to the car park in a few minutes and the drive home is awfully quiet. I should say something but I don't feel like talking. I wish she would say something, anything to distract my mind. I drive straight to the underground garage of my mansion and put the car in park. We take the connecting stairs up to the ground floor and I walk straight to the bar to grab a drink. Carissa only watches me. I sit on the sofa in the family room and she sits close to me with only a few inches separating us.

“Do you need something to eat?” she asks and I shake my head. She watches me as I take a sip of the drink and surprisingly says nothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks, tentatively.

I drop the glass cup on the table and turn to her. For a moment I consider telling her everything. Everything about my life, my past. I consider sharing my pain with her. I start to say something but I stop myself and do the unthinkable.

I kiss her. I kiss her real hard.