THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND

The sun rays filtered in through the glass, illuminating the mostly empty room and beaming on her. Lauren is a lady in her mid-30s, voluptuous but not small, and a mother of one. She stepped closer to the glass pane to take one last look at her garden. The garden had kept her aspirations alive. She softly pushed her dark long hair aside while enjoying the lovely wind and birds singing. She offered a small grin, tears running down her cheeks. She had mixed sentiments. She couldn't help but be overjoyed at her independence. Freedom From her confined marriage.

She eventually mumbled to herself: "Lauren, Papa would be so proud of you." She sighed deeply as everything that had transpired in the last six years rushed through her memory like a Hollywood film. About eight years ago.

It was a chilly winter morning, and I sluggishly put down my cover while the alarm clock continued to blare loudly in the room. I knew I had repeatedly turning off and resetting the alarm clock previously, but this time it seems the alarm isn't backing down for me anymore. It was the morning of our final-year project presentation. A day I've been looking forward to as the end of my scholastic career approaches. I saw myself earning a well-paying career, traveling the globe, living in a mansion with several housekeepers, marrying my ideal guy, and raising children together. The alarm blared, jolting me out of my fantasy world. I jumped out of bed and hastily took a shower, reminding myself of the work ahead. I went through my closet and pulled out my pink jacket and matching trouser, which draped nicely around my waist and showed off all of my curves. I managed to accumulate enough money from my previous employment to buy these clothes.

When I heard taps on my door, I walked closer to my dressing mirror to apply cosmetics. I didn't bother asking who it was since it was just me and my father living together. When we relocated to California, my mother died of breast cancer after just 6 months. My father was unable to continue living in our San Francisco home since he was often admitted to the hospital. His health was declining, and it was difficult to recover from the loss of a beloved wife. The only choice was for us to leave the home where they had spent more than half of their life together. It was really difficult for me, but I knew I had to do it to keep my elderly father alive. I missed life in San Francisco.

As I was thinking, he softly opened the door and said, "Lauren, my little princess," which was my father's favorite way of addressing me. He referred to me as his little princess since I am absolutely a clone of my mother, whom he affectionately dubbed "my Queen"

I quietly welcomed him in the middle of my glossed lips. "Are you ready for this?" He asked. I nodded in assent because I was afraid; even though I had worked so hard for this, I had no idea what today would bring. I took out my MacBook, school ID, and any other important papers I could need from my golden bag.I was nearly to the door when he asked, "You forgot?" I instantly understood what he was talking about. He has always purchased me my mother's favorite perfume, which also happens to be mine. This is one memory of my mother that he could not leave behind.It made him feel my mother's presence. I sprayed some, and he went closer to offer me a comforting smile and a nice embrace. The embrace relieved my anxiousness. We both got into the vehicle since he had volunteered to give me a ride that day. We were in the middle of our trip when my phone called. I checked the caller ID and it was just my closest buddy. Catherine is my childhood buddy.

She managed to utter "hello" despite her burger-filled mouth. You are doing it again? I said, "Will you get yourself here on time you little princess?" She responded. We both laughed. Catherine might be a pain in the neck at times, but I adore her just the same. We were both speaking today, and fortunately for us, we were project partners. I told her. I was nearly at the school gate when she whispered some things that were inaudible. She hung up. Catherine, unlike me, is an early riser, a foodie, and likes partying. She is well-known within our department. We eventually arrived at the school gate, and my father told me to "be at your best little princess" as he turned off the automobile engine in front of my department. He handed me some notes, and we eventually said farewell. "Call me when you are done" . He stated loudly, peering through the front window. I nodded in agreement. I proceeded into the departmental library to find Catherine but couldn't see her. We were meant to assemble at the library's entrance to deliver our personal presentations. I couldn't think of someplace else she could be than the school restaurant. I quickly changed course. I quickened my pace since time was running out for us. I eventually saw her plunging another pair of burgers into her mouth while clutching a cup of coffee in the other hand. Lauren exclaimed. As part of the burger dropped from her lips. I gave her a harsh look. She fixed her focus on me as I got closer to her. I pulled a chair for myself and deposited my belongings on the coffee table. I hadn't finished setting down when she said, "Lauren, are you sure you're dressed for this presentation?" I gave her a puzzled expression, taken off guard by her query. Then I added, "You know I'm not very good at picking outfits, but I thought this would be better." I expressed my dissatisfaction. No, you look stunning; stand up, girl, and fling your curves at us. She stated this while giving me a grin. Don't worry, we already have high scores for your beauty. I smiled back and took the coffee from her. Couldn't you atleast give me some? I told Catherine to monitor how she eats. Lauren, everyone has a monster within them. Mine is excellent. She said something that made us both chuckle. My phone rang, and I realized we had wasted practically all of the time we had set aside for revisions on nothing. I took up my phone. My father called to check on me. He reassured me and asked that I give the phone to Catherine. "Hello, Old Young Man," she said. She lovingly refers to my father as "that," which they both chuckled at. I'll take care of your little princess, she murmured to him. Please take care of me. You know it can't be. I would like to do that, I remarked openly so that my father might hear. They bid each other farewell, and the call terminated. We began our rewrite. Catherine's intellect was something I appreciated much. She is intelligent, clever, and has a quick mind. I gathered my strength and encouraged myself since she was my coworker. We gathered our belongings as it was about time and went to our departmental hall. We were number three on the list for the presentation. My heart was beating as quickly as a teenage boy's first automobile race. Catherine noticed my anxiety and put her hands on my shoulder, whispering, "Little princess, you can do this. I got you! Okay? I nodded in agreement.