The Billionaire And His One Night Stand

Los Angeles, Mia

As I stood in the hospital restroom, having just finished a pleasant lunch with Sebastian, my phone suddenly sprang to life. Glancing at the screen, I was taken aback by a name that had been absent from my life for years ‘Mom.’ The realization that my mother was reaching out to me, after such a prolonged silence, filled me with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation.

The tumultuous relationship I had with my mother was defined by the years of enduring my father’s oppressive behavior. During my childhood, I harbored resentment and anger toward her for her perceived complicity in my mistreatment. However, as I grew older and gained a deeper understanding of the complex dynamics at play, my emotions shifted from resentment to a deep sense of pity for her.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

The past few years had seen my mother’s absence from my life. It was as if she had gone into hiding, undoubtedly driven by the fear of my father’s wrath. This unexpected call was a rupture in that self-imposed exile, a fragile connection to a woman who had once been a distant but ever-present figure in my life.

Taking a deep breath to steady my emotions, I answered the call with a simple, “Mother.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, a momentary silence that hung heavy with unspoken emotions. I could almost hear the tremor in her voice as she finally responded, “Mia, my dear, it’s been such a long time.”

The sound of her voice, so familiar yet distant, brought a wave of memories crashing back. Despite the pain of our shared history, I couldn’t deny the tinge of nostalgia that welled within me. “Yes, it has been,” I replied, my voice carrying a mix of emotions.

She continued hesitantly, “I’ve been thinking about you, Mia. I’ve missed you.”

Her words touched a chord in me, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of empathy for the woman who had once been the recipient of my resentment. “I’ve thought about you too, Mother,” I admitted.

The conversation seemed to teeter on the edge of what had gone unsaid for years. The unspoken regrets and pain, the silence that had hung between us like an insurmountable chasm. Now, with the fragile thread of communication restored, I was torn between wanting to know why she had reached out and fearing what it might mean for both of us.

She finally broke the silence, her voice trembling. “Mia, I wanted to talk to you because…because I’ve left your father. I can’t live that way anymore.”

The shock of her words reverberated through me. I had never imagined my mother taking such a decisive step, escaping the clutches of a man who had held her captive for so long. My initial reaction was a mixture of disbelief and cautious hope. “You left him?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice filled with a mix of fear and determination. “It wasn’t easy, but I had to do it for my own sake, and for yours.”

As she spoke, I could hear the quiver in her voice, the fragility of her newfound freedom. My heart went out to her, for she had faced the daunting challenge of escaping a life of oppression and cruelty.

I found myself saying, “I’m glad you found the strength to leave, Mother. You deserve to live a life free from fear.”

The relief in her voice was palpable as she responded, “Thank you, Mia. I was so afraid of what your father would do if he found out, but I couldn’t stay trapped any longer. I want to reconnect with you, to rebuild the relationship we once had.”

Despite the complexities of our history, I felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps, in this newfound freedom and her desire to make amends, we could forge a new connection. “I’m open to rebuilding our relationship, Mother. But it won’t be easy. There’s so much to address and heal from.”

She nodded on the other end, her voice full of understanding. “I know, Mia. I’m prepared to face the past and make amends for my mistakes. It’s a long road, but I’m willing to walk it. Also there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What do you need to tell me, Mother?” I inquired, my voice steady but my heart racing with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

Her response carried a weight that bore down on both of us. “It’s not going to be easy,” she began, her voice quivering. “But your father is behind it all.”

The cryptic statement left me puzzled, my brows furrowing with concern. “Behind what?” I pressed, my curiosity overtaking my caution.

There was a brief pause, as if the words were difficult for her to articulate. “Sebastian’s car accident,” she finally revealed. “It wasn’t an accident. He messed with the brakes.”

My eyes widened in shock, my mind racing to process the enormity of what she had just disclosed. The room seemed to spin as the implications of her words settled in. “How do you know this, Mother?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Are you sure?”

Her voice, tinged with remorse, held a measure of certainty. “I have heard him talk on the phone with someone,” she admitted. “He’s in Los Angeles now.”

The revelation that my own father might have had a hand in the accident that had befallen Sebastian was beyond belief. It was a chilling revelation that sent shivers down my spine, the pieces of a disturbing puzzle slowly falling into place.

My mother’s voice wavered as she continued, “I don’t have all the details, Mia, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not telling you. He’s dangerous, and I fear for your safety as well.”

In the midst of my shock and apprehension, a swirl of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. My father had always been a domineering figure in my life, a source of fear and control. The thought that he might be capable of such a sinister act was staggering.

My mind raced with questions. “Mother, do you know why he did this? What’s his motive?”

Her reply came with a heavy sigh, a sense of regret permeating her words. “I can’t be certain of his motives, Mia. But I know that he has been involved in dangerous dealings for a while now. The people he associates with… they’re not the kind of individuals one would want to cross.”

As I digested this revelation, a sense of urgency welled within me. “You’ve done the right thing by telling me, Mother. But we need to take action. Sebastian is in the hospital in Los Angeles, and I need to be with him.”

My mother’s voice quivered as she spoke. “Mia, please be careful. Your father is not someone to underestimate. He won’t let you go easily.”

I nodded, my resolve firm. “I understand, Mother. I’ll take every precaution to protect myself and those I care about. But right now, I need to be with Sebastian.”

The weight of our conversation hung heavily in the air as I prepared to leave the hospital. The newfound knowledge that my father might have played a sinister role in Sebastian’s accident added a layer of complexity to the challenges we faced.

My mother’s voice was filled with a mix of sorrow and hope as she spoke her final words. “I hope one day you can forgive me for the years I allowed this to happen. And I hope you find the answers you seek.”

With a heavy heart, I bid my mother farewell and disconnected the call.