Dreaming of the Billionaire 3
Read Dreaming of the Billionaire 3 Online
Authors: Alice Bright
Dreaming of the Billionaire
Part 3
Alice Bright
I love him, but is love enough?
Copyright © 2015 by Alice Bright
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
I’ve never fallen as hard or as fast.
I’ve never been as afraid.
I’ve never been as determined.
Sean, my boyfriend of a few weeks now, just opened up in ways most people have never dreamed of. He just told me his deepest secret. It wasn’t about a hidden family or an ex-wife. No, this is harder to swallow.
This is darker.
I already knew that Sean had been in relationships before. It’s to be expected when you’re over 30. Or, you know, over 16.
But I hadn’t been expecting his confession about PTSD.
I hadn’t been expecting the part where he broke his girlfriend’s wrist during a nightmare.
I hadn’t been expecting that if I want to keep dating him, there are going to be rules in place to protect us both.
I hadn’t been expecting to have to make a choice.
When you’re growing up, you hear all the warnings about bad boys. You always hear people say that if a guy hurts someone, he’ll do it again. If a guy is abusive, he’ll be that way forever. If a guy is damaged, then there’s no hope. Somehow, though, now that I’m faced with the decision, it’s not so black and white. I always thought that decisions like this were obvious, but they aren’t. They’re murky.
Now I have to decide.
Is Sean worth the trouble?
Should I give up and find another guy?
Can we keep working through this?
And do I really want to?
Though I’m surprised at Sean’s admission, part of me realizes that this doesn’t change who he is. It doesn’t change who I’ve fallen in love with. It doesn’t change the way I feel.
We’re all broken.
We’re all damaged.
It’s all a matter of whether we’re willing to fight for the things that we want.
And Sean Moormead is all I’ve ever wanted.
Tiffany is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in real life.
She holds out her hand when she greets me, and I hesitate to take it. No, I haven’t forgotten my manners. I just don’t know how to behave around someone who looks like they just stepped out of a magazine.
“You must be Violet,” she says with a smile. “It’s really nice to meet you.”
I take a deep breath and shake her hand. Somehow, she doesn’t break and I don’t pass out. It’s a win-win for both of us.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” I say to her. “I know it’s kind of weird.”
She waves her hand, letting me know that it’s not a big deal to her, then she steps aside and ushers me into her home. Slowly, I make my way into the living room, trying to focus on why I’m here. I’m here because of Sean. I’m here to hear her side. I’m here to figure out where to go from here.
I’m here because I am so fucking lost that I don’t know which way is up.
Tiffany is the only person I can talk to, the only one who will understand how I feel.
When Sean told me about his past, I expected it to be something bad. What else would explain his weird behavior? What else would explain the way he randomly missed work or how he was afraid to let me spend the night in his room?
For a billionaire boyfriend, he's perfect in almost every way.
Except this one.
And I just don't know what to do.
“So you want to talk about Sean,” she says, making herself comfortable on her oversized leather sofa. I take a seat across from her in a chair and nod. I like that she doesn’t bother with pleasantries. She doesn’t waste time talking about her house or her perfect life. She doesn’t make me come up with a paragraph-sized introduction to myself. She just jumps right in.
“We’ve been seeing each other for just a few weeks,” I say. It’s hard to believe that it hasn’t been very long. It’s tough for me to realize that two months ago, I had no idea who Sean Moormead was. I didn’t know what he looked like, what he did for work, what he tasted like. I didn’t know how hard he could make me cum or how much I would cry over him.
I didn’t know he had PTSD or that he had broken his ex-girlfriend’s wrist during a nightmare.
I didn’t know I would have to make a choice.
“And you just found out about the PTSD,” Tiffany finishes for me.
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s only been a few days, but it’s really overwhelming. I kind of feel like I got blindsided.”
“I get it,” she nods. “You’re crazy about him and you’re wondering if he could be ‘the one,’ all that. Then you find out that the man of your dreams has this horrible secret. It’s natural to be scared.” She seems very calm. Too calm, like she's been through this many times before, like all of this is old news to her.
“You didn’t stay,” I say slowly, wondering how to broach the topic of Sean hurting her. Sean said that after his nightmare that day, she ran out and he didn't hear from her for weeks. When she finally called, it was to tell him that she was leaving. Not just him. She was leaving Pinebluff. She needed to get away. She needed a fresh start.
“I didn’t stay. I couldn’t. Not after what happened. Violet, Sean’s a good guy,” Tiffany assures me. “And now that he’s gotten the help that he needs, he has things much more under control than when we were together. When he came back from his deployment, he wasn’t the guy I fell in love with. He was dark. He was depressed. He was sad. He wouldn’t get help and I didn’t know what to do. We both knew something was wrong, but we were so damn young and naïve that we had no idea what steps to take.”
I find it hard to picture Tiffany as anything but what she is right now: a 30-something mother of two. She’s married, she has two little girls, and she lives in a huge house in a great part of town. Her husband is successful and she gets to stay at home with her kids. Her life seems perfect to me, but I know I’m just getting a glimpse of what her world is like.
The decision to move back to Pinebluff after years away must have been difficult.
It must have been horrifying.
She offers me a cup of tea and I nod, gratefully accepting the warm drink. I sip it slowly as she continues.
“I can’t tell you what to do, but I can tell you that when Sean hurt me, I was very scared. I can also tell you that he changed that night. He started going to counseling regularly. He joined a support group. He even went to church for awhile. Talking with people and surrounding himself with others who have been there really helped Sean. He really managed to get everything under control. That’s when his dad gave him the job at Strongdelt.”
So Sean hadn’t just been a shoe-in for the position. Interesting.
“I left Sean,” Tiffany tells me, “but we didn’t stop being friends. While I was away, we kept in touch through phone calls and emails. We still talk now, though not as frequently, and we work much better as friends than we did as lovers. I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship. I wasn’t ready for the work it took.” She shrugs. “I met Tom about two years after Sean and I broke up and it was very different. It was almost perfect from the start. We only dated a few months before we decided to get married.”
Now she smiles and sips her drink, basking in the warmth of her sweet memories. I wonder, for just a second, if I could ever have with Sean what Tiffany has with Tom. When I left his house the other night, I couldn’t even think straight. I know I probably should have stayed and talked more, but I couldn’t. I needed to be alone. I needed time to process what he had just told me.
Finding Tiffany’s contact information hadn’t been hard, but I had been terrified when I emailed her and asked if she would meet with me. You always hear stories about bitchy ex-wives and ex-girlfriends who have it out for the new girl. To my surprise – and good luck – she hadn’t been that way at all. If anything, Tiffany had been more than happy to help me and to talk with me about what to expect.
“I don’t want to lose Sean,” I say timidly. “I’m crazy about him.”
“He feels the same way about you, Sweetie.”
I raise an eyebrow. He told her? Of course he did. She said they keep in touch. He must have told her he found someone.
“I just…part of me is scared. I know he has things mostly under control, but he still has bad days.”
Tiffany shrugs.
“Everyone has bad days. Whether or not you have PTSD, we all have issues. You just have to decide whether or not Sean is worth the difficulty, the struggle, the work. I can’t tell you what to do, Violet. You have to decide that for yourself.”
I know that she’s right, but she’s not making this any easier. How do you decide whether to keep trying when you’re faced with something like this? What if Sean and I get married and he has another bad dream and he hurts me? What if he slumps into a deep depression and he can’t crawl out of it? What if I can’t drag him out of it?
“Violet,” Tiffany’s voice breaks my thoughts, forcing me to return to the present. “I know that it’s scary.”
I nod. She’s right. It’s scary.
It’s terrifying.
“But,” she continues. “War trauma is not the end of the world. Life goes on. Sean has moved on, but he’s still going to have bouts of depression, Sweetie. That’s part of who he is now. He’s still going to have days where it’s a struggle just to get out of bed, where he can’t bear the thought of going to work, where his nightmares are eating him alive. That’s his life. You can be a part of it or not, but he’s told you exactly what you’re getting into.”
“Yeah,” I know what she’s saying. I can give up and quit, losing something that could be truly spectacular, or I can stay and fight for what I want. “You’re right. It’s not like we’ve been going out that long. It was pretty impressive that he opened up to me this early on in the relationship. I think that has to count for something.”
She smiles.
“I think it counts for a lot.”
I hear a squeal and a pitter-patter before Tiffany’s oldest daughter, who is three, appears in the doorway.
“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” The little girl bounces in the room and jumps on Tiffany’s lap, giggling and mumbling something I can’t understand.
As I see the way Tiffany looks at her little girl, I realize that love isn’t always easy. It’s not always painless. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.
Right?
I’ve called in sick to work all week. I don’t exactly have any vacation time built up, but no one gives me any crap about not showing up. Sean seems to have given up on calling me. After constant texts and calls for the first three days after our discussion, he must have gotten the message that I wasn’t ready to talk.
I realize that I should at least say something. I should at least let him know that I’m okay.
But I can’t.
I need time. I need space.
I need solitude.
Instead of talking with him, I throw all of my energy into moving into my new place. Colby has already finished moving his stuff in with Amy, essentially pushing me out of my own house, but I don’t really care. He’s a good guy and she’s lucky to have him. Now I just need to focus on figuring out my problems with my own good guy.
Despite all the confusion, I honestly believe that Sean is genuine. He’s good. He’s kind. So what if he has PTSD? Like Tiffany pointed out for over an hour, he’s doing much better than he was 8 years ago when he came back. So what if he’s nervous about being in a relationship? It’s the first time he’s dated seriously since the accident. It’s normal to be nervous. I’d probably be nervous, too.
I try not to focus on the fact that the last decade has primarily consisted of one-night stands for him. Instead, I think about the fact that he’s giving that up for me. He’s giving up a lot for me. He’s giving up his privacy, his space, and now his secrets.
So knowing all of that, why am I still so afraid?
Do I think he’s going to hurt me?
Do I think he’s going to damage me?
Or do I think
he’s
still broken?
Do I think he’s still lost?
What the fuck is my problem?
Before I can even think about talking with Sean face-to-face, I have to figure out what I’m feeling, but I can’t keep ignoring him. I need to say something.
So I pick up my phone.
He answers on the first ring.
“I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again,” his voice is smooth and sultry. He sounds like honey. He sounds like perfection.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Violet. I know I dumped a lot on you. I didn't expect you to want to talk about it right away.”
I take a deep breath.
“I don’t want this to be over, but I’m scared and I’m nervous. I need a little bit of time to process things before I’m ready to see you again. Can I have a few more days off of work?”
He takes a deep breath. Relief?
“Yeah, Vi. Whatever you need. You got it.”
“Thanks.”
“Violet?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling. I was worried about you.”
