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In Bits And Pieces.

Jennie_King_4582
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Synopsis
After the death of his 5years old daughter, and while in the process of mourning his loss, a billionaire CEO comes to the realization that he has been oblivious to the depth of his wife's pain and how much the death of their daughter affected her more than she had let on and right before his eyes, the woman he loves more than anything has been silently, slowly and gradually fading away, buried in grief.

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Chapter 1 - Memories.

Happy.

Such a simple word, right? Just one word. Five Letters. And yet so meaningful. So powerful. So significant. So Important to every human. But very difficult to attain in a life time. Very difficult to experience. So many people go through this life without ever having to experience it. Lots of people can't and may never get to understand what it means to be truly happy, to live it and to experience it but most importantly, get the chance and the opportunity to share this feeling with others, to be the reason someone else is happy. As I watch my wife sleep, I finally get to fully understand what that word means. What it means to be happy and what it means to not be happy. The absolute best thing to ever happen to me, the only love of my life, the only woman that has ever taken the time to know me and understand me, the most Important part of my existence is not happy. She hasn't been for a while. Not since little Princess died, seven months ago. But the thing is this, I never saw it. Never even suspected that she could have been going through so much pain due to grief. I mean, it is normal to grief and mourn the loss of a loved one, I certain mourned the death of my little girl. We both did.... Or so I believed. Although, looking back now, I can see the many red flags that should have stood out for me as a sign that something was terribly wrong with my woman. I never saw her cry. Not once. Not when the doctors pronounced my little girl dead. Not when she was covered up, not when we were planning her funeral, not even on the day she was buried and definitely not any of the days after her funeral. I never, not once saw my wife cry, she didn't even shed a tear. Until this night. My wife, my very strong and fierce wife broke down in front of me. the strongest human I know broke down right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do. I still don't know what I can do. I am broken, my heart is shattered at the sight I walked in on this evening. My wife, on the floor in our late daughter's bedroom, wailing. The sounds I heard coming from her were sounds I never thought I could ever hear coming from her or any human. And they are sounds I never want to hear from her, ever again. I never want to see her so fragile, vulnerable and broken again. Because seeing her like that, broke something deep within me. You see, My wife is my rock, my strength, my hope, my good luck charm, My everything and for as long as we have been together, I have done everything within my power to make her happy, see her happy and keep her happy. But I feel like I have failed. I feel like a terrible failure. How did we even get here? How did I not see this coming? How did I not notice the changes? Sigh.

I want to believe that I have been the source of happiness for my wife ever since we met, over ten years ago and ever since, that has been a top priority. I have taken so much pride in knowing and believing that I have what it takes to always make my wife happy. And I have succeeded in that, up until this moment. This is a day I never wished for, a day I never believed would be a reality. A day where it dawns on me that I have failed my wife, failed in my duties as a husband and as a man. Another sigh This one heavier than the last. It seems sighing is all I've been able to do since I managed to put her to bed. I feel helpless, hopeless, useless. Not knowing what to do to help my wife be the woman I know, the woman I fell in love. And it scares me just to imagine that there may be nothing for me to do for her. And that angers me even more.

I move away from the window where I've been standing, deep in thoughts for hours and get closer to the bed where she is sound asleep, snoring lightly. I sit down on the bed gently and take her hand into mine, slowly caressing the soft skin of her palm and the wrist. I bring her hand closer to my face and burry my face in the palm of her hand, inhaling her sweet scent. I drop a series of kisses on her palm and the back of her hand too. And then I look down at her as she sleeps. So calmly, like an angel. My angel. I chuckle softly as I remember calling her that the first day we met. Although not in this context. I had mistaken her for someone else. And I can still feel the heat from the glare she gave me that day. I chuckle again and sit back, admiring my wife and remembering why I fell in love with her in the first place.

FLASH BACK- 10 YEARS AGO.

I don't think I introduced myself to you earlier... The dark place my wife had fallen into occupied every part of my brain. My apologies please. My name is Iyke Agu and according to forbes, I am a billionaire. Well, they can't possibly know all that I own to come to that conclusion though. I have more assets than even I can put together. I am the founder and CEO of I.A Corp. I'm sure you've heard of us. We have our hands into everything; from luxurious 5 star hotels to restaurants, clubs, real estate, electronics and gadgets, logistics and just recently, we developed an app. An all for one app. And at the moment, we are at the top of the food chain. So, yeah maybe forbes isn't so far from the truth, I am a freaking billionaire and I am fucking proud of that shit. I have worked so fucking hard to get to where I am today, to get the things that I have today, to enjoy the best things of life without guilt, without worry and without shame.

I am 37years old and believe me I feel that shit every damn day I wake up and at night before I go to sleep. I am really getting old. What I am is an old billionaire with nothing else besides his money, assets and success. No wife, no kids. I am single as fuck! And as appealing as that may sound to some people, there really is nothing fun about being old and single, even if you have enough money to last you a thousand life times. Lately, I've been feeling.... weird. Lonely, bored, itching for more... more substance. More meaning to life, more fun, just... More out of life in general.

Anyway, back to the biography... My biography. Seeing how much money I now control, one would never believe I was born poor, dirt poor. My parents couldn't afford anything while I was a child. We begged for everything, food to eat, clothes to wear, shoes to wear, money for supplies.... everything. I watched my father try again and again to keep a job but the fact he was and is a convicted felon never helped much. Or at all in some cases.

You see, my parents are immigrants. Iyke... Is a short and somehow posh form of my name. My full name is 'Ikedinachukwu' which means 'There is power in God'. My parents are Igbos, from Nigeria, the biggest country in West Africa. They managed to secure visas from themselves when my dad was still an up and coming music artist back in Nigeria. But according to what I heard from both mom and dad, dad hasn't always made good decisions, he was known to always make terribly bad decisions and always ends up in one big trouble or another. One of those terrible decisions was when he agreed to rob a bank with some guys he met here a few months after he got here. He got caught, wouldn't make a deal and snitch on his friends, so he was locked up for a long time. The only good thing out of that was his friends took care of mom who was already pregnant at the time. Gave her lots of money, got her a good house in a safe neighborhood and opened up a small salon for her where she was able to manage before dad got out. He was out in less than 4years, no one knows how or why and he didn't share. But you would think, his time in prison would have taught him a few lessons, but noooo. He came out and started gambling until all the money mom had saved was gone. She also lost the house and the salon and we were homeless for a while and that was when my father decided it was time to be a man, time to be smart and make better decisions. But what was the point though? By then no one took him serious. Most people wouldn't even employ him because of his record and those that did, only used him while paying him stipends. Mom had to step in again, working 3-4 jobs just to make sure I had good food to eat, a warm bed to sleep in and good clothes to wear. She worked so hard to make sure I went to school, not the best schools but at least I got an education.

One of the places she worked at was a restaurant, and no she wasn't a waitress, she was a dish washer. She took me with her after school and I would stay in the staff room while she worked, finishing my homework. And that was how things started to change for us. The owner of the restaurant saw me in the staff room one evening, bent over my books, working on a maths problem. He came in and watched me till I finished, he knelt down, and looked at my work, smiling to himself. He pat me on the head and walked away without saying a word. But that became a routine for him, every evening, he would come and watch me finish my homework with a sweet smile on his face. I told mom about it and at first she was scared her boss would fire her for bringing a 7year old child to his establishment without his permission and so the next day, she left me with a neighbour and went to work at the restaurant without me. Almost immediately, she was back with a confused look on her face but also a sweet smile and told me 'your new friend wants you come spend time with him'. And that ladies and gentlemen was how things began to change for us. The owner of the restaurant took a liking to me. Helped me with my homework while mom worked and when I was old enough, he employed me to help with the books because I've always been good with figures. On my eighteenth year birthday, he gave me his restaurant to manage for 2years as my birthday gift. We didn't have enough money for me to go to college at the time, so the job was the only option available to me and quite tempting too because the pay was really good for an eighteen year old. And so, I took on the job of a restaurant manager and despite the many hurdles along the way, I was able to fight through and come out victorious in the end. My old friend was beyond pleased with what I was able to accomplish in 2years and afterwards, he paid for me to go to college while I still worked part time as his accountant. A year before my graduation, my old friend had a stroke and died. My entire world came to a halt at the news of his death, to say I was broken would be an understatement. I was shattered and torn and hopeless until his lawyers came knocking on my parents' door, to tell me that the old man left me his restaurant and his house and everything else he owned. That was the moment my life, my world changed. Changed for the better. One restaurant became thirty three in different states and countries all over the world. Over twenty clubs, fifteen hotels, real estate, logistics business, and many other investments that have continued to yield massive profits over the years. I wake up everyday and I bless God for my old friend and I work even harder to make him proud of me and make sure there is no reason for him to be disappointed in me or to regret his decision of leaving his business to me. My parents are the happiest I've ever seen them, travelling the world and pestering me about giving them at least one grandchild. Sigh.

Thirteen years after and I am a fucking billionaire. I have more money than I could ever spend in seven life times and yet, I keep wanting more, I keep looking for new ways to make more money, I keep working hard to make sure I never go back to being that little insecure boy who was scared of pissing mom's boss off just by doing his homework at her place of work. I have this fear deep in my stomach that if I stop working for even a minute everything will come crashing down and I will be left with nothing. A therapist will probably tell me that I am being paranoid and rightly so... But I really don't care. I must always be at alert, always be in control of my present and my future because my past was way out of my control and that can't ever be the case again.

And so, here I am with yet another acquisition in the bag, another achievement, another step up the ladder and I know I should be happy but I am not really happy. I mean, don't get me wrong I am pleased with myself over this successful business acquisition, I am very much proud of myself and every member of my team and staff gathered around here today to celebrate this new business we are about to venture into. But for a while now, I have come to understand that there is a huge difference between being happy and being successful and today, I am feeling that ten times over like a heavy weight on my shoulders and believe me when I say this; that it is not a very good feeling at all.

I sigh and take a sip from my water glass, I try not to drink alcohol outside my home. My dad made terrible choices in his life time and it all started with him drinking alcohol with friends and letting those friends cajole him into a lifestyle of filth. I promised myself years ago that I will never make the same mistakes my father made and I will try as much as I can to avoid those things that drew him into that lifestyle. And so whenever I am out at functions like this, I only drink water and I never eat out. I have very serious trust issues. I have a personal chef who is also one of my closest friends and I have a few of those by the way, so he comes and cook for me and I pay him well too. He probably doesn't need the money I pay him because the man is wealthy motherfucker. But I can't really eat for free on a daily basis can I? Well, I maybe can but it just wouldn't be nice of me now, would it?

I take another sip from my glass as I look around the room at my staff and their significant others, members of the board and their significant others, a few of my close friends and their spouses. They are all having fun, drinking and eating, dancing and laughing. They are all free and happy and I can't help but feel jealous of what they all have. What I currently don't have. Sigh.

With that heavy feeling of jealousy, loneliness and boredom, I turn around to walk out, having had enough for one night. And that's when I see her. She is conversing with a group of people in waiter uniforms and I just can't stop starring. I just can't stop starring at this beautiful woman from across the room. Crazy thing is, she is probably not the most beautiful woman in the room and definitely not the best dressed in the room but to me, she is the most attractive of them all. The most appealing person in the room and I just can't take my eyes off her. I've heard people talk about having butterflies in their bellies, their hearts beating fast and hard when they see people they love but I never believed them but now, looking at this exquisite woman from across the room, I can finally understand everything they've been saying because I am feeling all of it. I am finally attracted to a woman beyond her physical looks. That is crazy and wild and also a weird feeling but I am not shaking it off. I welcome it with everything in me because this woman is special.