The Billionaire Forgot He Hated Me

Chapter 10. Smile For Me Again

Smile For Me Again

Claire

Victor looked between me and Mrs. Smith. His gaze was curious.

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. My hands felt cold. I didn’t know if Mrs. Smith knew about his condition. I didn’t know how much she remembered that day. The silence stretched. I could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner. My heart was beating too loud in my ears.

Mrs. Smith spoke first.

“It’s my fault, sir,” she said quickly. She wiped her hands on her apron and gave a nervous little laugh. “You warned me several times not to allow Madam Claire in the kitchen. You said your girlfriend shouldn’t be standing over hot oil and chopping onions whenever she visits. You said it was stressful for her. But Madam Claire… she insists. She loves you too much. She can not stay away from the kitchen. She pays attention to every single thing you eat. Every detail. She even checks if the salt is too much.”

I froze.

Madam Claire.

The word sat in the air. I stared at Mrs. Smith. My mind went blank for a second. She had never called me that before. Not once. Not even when Victor used to hate me. What's going on right now?

Mrs. Smith continued, still talking fast and a little clumsy. “One day, you came home early and caught us. You were very angry. You fired me on the spot. I begged. I cried a little, I think. Then later, you called me back and said I could stay if I stopped letting her do kitchen work.”

Victor turned to me. His eyes were soft. Soft in a way I had never seen directed at me.

“You did all that?” he asked quietly. “You made my meals? You paid attention to every detail of what I ate?”

I looked down at my hands. My fingers were twisted together. In my head, I could still see the days I stood in that kitchen, carefully measuring the salt in his meals, hoping he would eat well even if he never knew it was me. I had done it. Every single time. Until he found out and threw everything away.

I closed my eyes for a second. Then I opened them and said, “Yes. I did.”

The room went quiet. Victor kept looking at me. His eyes softened even more. I could feel the weight of his gaze on my face. I couldn’t look away. Something warm and painful moved under my ribs. I forgot Mrs. Smith was still standing there until she cleared her throat.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” she said. “Making lunch.”

She walked away. Her footsteps faded.

I felt exposed. I shifted on my feet and said, “I’ll come with you.”

I took one step. Victor’s hand closed around my wrist. The touch was warm. His fingers slid down until he was holding both of my hands. His thumbs brushed over my knuckles.

“Please stay," he said. "I’ll be lonely if you leave." His voice was low. Almost playful.

I stared at him. My tongue felt heavy. Finally, I managed to say, “I was just going to the kitchen.”

Victor’s mouth curved. “To do exactly what got Mrs. Smith fired in the first place?”

He smiled. The smile was small and real. It made my stomach flip. I looked down at our hands. The heat from his palms travelled up my arms and settled somewhere near my heart.

Victor brushed his fingers lightly along my arm. “Please. Sit with me.”

He guided me to the sofa. I sat down. He sat next to me, not too close, not too far. We were quiet for a while. I kept my body stiff, afraid to move closer. The silence was not empty. It felt full of everything we weren’t saying.

Then Victor’s eyes moved past me. He was looking at a photo on the side table. Bonnie and him. She was maybe five. He was around fifteen. They were both smiling.

“Who is she?” he asked.

I turned. My throat tightened. At some point, he would need to know. He would need to understand why his memories were gone. I swallowed.

Victor put his hand over his chest. His face changed. His breathing turned uneven. “Why does it hurt here when I look at her?” His voice cracked a little. “It feels like something is stabbing me. Right here.” He pressed harder against his chest. “It hurts. It really hurts.”

He made a small panicked sound. His other hand went to his head.

I moved closer at once. My heart jumped into my throat. “Uncle Victor? What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“Yes.” His voice was tight and shaky. “My heart. Just from looking at that picture. Take it away. Please. Take the picture away. I can’t look at it.”

I scrambled to my feet. My hands were trembling. I picked up the frame and carried it into another room as fast as I could. When I came back, Victor was holding his head with both hands. His eyes were squeezed shut.

“Does your head hurt?” I asked. My voice came out thin. What if this was the start of everything coming back? What if he remembered me next? What if he remembered how much he hated me?

He nodded slowly. “There’s an image in my head. I see a little girl running around this house. I can see myself with her. I look around fifteen. She’s laughing. She’s spinning in the living room.” His voice dropped. “Why does it feel like I lost something important?”

My hand flew to my mouth. He was remembering. The little girl was Bonnie.

“What else do you remember?” I asked carefully. I could barely breathe.

“Nothing. Just tiny flashes.” He kept his hand on his head. “It hurts when I try to hold on to the memories.”

“I think I need to call Doctor Richard,” I said. My voice shook.

Victor looked up. His eyes were still pained. “What for? We just got back from the hospital. I’m not going back there.”

I remembered how much he hated hospitals. Even though he used to take Bonnie for the smallest things. One time, Bonnie accidentally swallowed a tiny button from her jacket while she was laughing too hard at one of Tyler’s jokes. It was nothing serious. The doctor said it would pass naturally. But Victor had panicked so badly that he carried her to the car in his arms and drove like a madman. Bonnie and I sat in the back seat and couldn’t stop laughing because Victor kept saying “Don’t move, don’t breathe too hard, don’t swallow again” the whole way. He looked so serious and terrified that we both cried from laughing. He never played when it came to Bonnie.

The memory made me smile before I could stop it, even though worry was still sitting heavy in my stomach.

Victor noticed. “What’s funny?”

I caught myself. I straightened my face. “Nothing.”

He moved a little closer on the sofa. His knee almost touched mine. “It’s actually nice to see you smile,” he said. “Do it again."

I shook my head. “I can’t. It’s awkward.”

“No it’s not.” He smiled again. Then he did something, so unlike Victor, I used to know. He used both hands to pull the corners of his mouth wider, making a big forced grin while he tried to talk. “See? Easy. Just like this. You try.”

The sound of his voice through the silly smile was so ridiculous that a real laugh escaped me. Soft at first, then a little stronger. For a second, the fear in my chest loosened.

Victor stopped. He dropped his hands. He just stared at me. His eyes moved over my face slowly.

His face was close. Close enough that I could see the small flecks in his eyes. Close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Why does it feel like I’ve been missing this?” he asked quietly. “Your smile. It feels like I was never the reason for it. Like… like you cried a lot when you were around me.”