Billionaire's Accidental Wife

Chapter 36

Chapter 36 The space is considerably more apparent now that I am alone. Christie and I don’t have

any furniture, food, or money. And neither of us is employed. It will take months to restore this property

to its previous glitzy splendour. I have no idea how to get us back on our feet, and I am quite frightened

about starting the process. Christie, I’m sure, is as well. In that case, where are they?

I get up from the floor mattress and walk to the bathroom. I let the water run over my fair skin and blond

hair.

Despite the heat, I find the water really calming. As it rushes over my body, the water represents my

freedom. It envelops me, drop by drop, freeing my confined senses and conflicting emotions. It reminds

me that I have returned home and am no longer burdened by the dreadful life I had at the mansion.

I hurriedly exit the shower and grab my towel. I walk on tiptoe across the white tiles, around the empty

flat, to my bag in the corner. I pull on a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and my favourite Converse

shoes. I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and smile. It feels wonderful to be out of those stiff corporate

clothes and be back on my own.

I feel like me again.

Just then, the door swings open and Christie and Peter walk in, carrying two brown bags. She is

dressed in black leggings and a bright red exercise top. She appears flustered but natural. I quite like

this look on her.

“Hey, sis!” I say excitedly. I run over to her and help with the bags, setting them down on the kitchen

counter.

“Hey, honey! Don’t you look cute! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in jeans and a t-shirt.” “Are you

sure? “By the way, I love that look on you,” I remark softly as I select an apple from one of the bags and

put myself up on the counter. “What happened to you two this morning?” How is your candy hidden in

your pocket, Peter? Could I have some?”

The youngster smiled and dashed to the restroom. “Mommy, I need to pee.” The little boy grumbled

and disappeared into the hallway. “Oh well, I simply had to go for a walk.” It was really lovely outside. I

missed taking walks around the neighbourhood. I had forgotten how lovely the mornings are here.

Then I went to the farmers market for some goods after checking on our belongings in storage, which

should be delivered in two days.”

She lets out a deep sigh. I could tell being home was making her emotional.

“Oh Chelsea, it’s so good to be home. I am sorry for everything that has happened, I.” “No, Christie, it’s

okay,” I interjected. The last thing I want her to do is ruining the mood by diving back into the mess with

Sebastian and Dave.

“No, Chelsea let me get this out,” she states firmly. “I thought about everything during my

walk this morning and I need to apologize. I am sorry for putting you through everything that happened.

I should never have dragged you there. You were right about everything…” she pauses as her voice

wavers.

I reach out and rub her arm in comfort.

She takes a sharp breath in and speaks again, “Sebastian never loved me and I didn’t think it through

before I decided to get engaged and live with him. We had such a wonderful life here. I never should’ve

given it up. And to think, if it weren’t for you… I wouldn’t have found out the truth. I’m so sorry for

arguing with you and I’m even sorrier for making you work for the company.” I hop off the counter and

embrace her in a warm, tender hug.

“I am so disappointed in myself, Chelsea,” she continues. As your sister, I should’ve known better.

Please forgive me, sweetheart.” She sniffles, holding me tighter.

“Chelsea, please stop crying. You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry for being so mean to you. There

were times when I was so out of line and disrespectful.” I pull away and stare into her cloudy eyes., Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

“Oh, sis. It’s so good to have you back.”

******

Two days later.

“Hey… slowly… That couch goes over there!”

“Watch out for that!” Christie yells. It’s only 10 a.m., and the movers have already arrived with our

furniture, which has been in storage for a few months. Christie went into director mode as soon as they

walked into the flat. She’s now yelling orders about where everything should go, so I can get started on

the design layout of the facility. As soon as an item or box is placed, I move it around and add my own

decorative touch to make the flat feel homier. I’ll be finished with the living room soon. It has the same

dark rug we’ve had for years; a polished coffee table, a plush white sofa, and a few family photos and

Kenyan portraits on the walls. I next hung pale cream curtains above the sliding door that leads to the

balcony and added a few vintage lamps to give the flat a distinct appearance. I must confess that I

enjoy seeing the transition. I’m entirely in my element when it comes to decorating each room. While

Peter entertained himself on the balcony. Decorating also brings back long-forgotten memories of

Christie and me. I can’t disguise my delight at seeing her command the movers like an expert. She was

hurrying around the place, her face sweaty and her hair in a high ponytail. There is no trace of luxury

handbags, makeup, or chauffeurs. My sister was in her element. Christie and I are still rearranging

things long after the movers have left. Christie is working on the kitchen while I concentrate on my

room.

While the workload is full-on, I could not be any happier. Just as I move my dresser up against

the wall opposite my bed, I hear a soft knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Christie calls out from the kitchen. “It must be the last mover dropping off the fridge…”xl

peered out of my bedroom window to see her hop over some boxes, rolled up wallpaper, tools, and

other miscellaneous items. When she finally reaches the door, she swings it open and freezes.

“Christie… who is it?” When she did not answer me, I let go of the dresser and walked out of my

bedroom. As soon as I am close enough to see the person at the door, my breath catches in my throat.

What the hell is he doing here?

Chelsea is immobile in the doorway. “Oh…” is all I can say as I cover my lips in shock. Christie has yet

to move or speak. Dave shifts his foot in agony as the stillness lingers. “I hope I’m not imposing,” he

finally replies softly. With his hands tucked in the pockets of his ankle-length khaki pants, he appears

young and innocent. His blue-buttoned shirt’s long sleeves are pushed up to his elbow

is tanned forearms and a little Celtic tattoo I’ve never seen before.

His dark wavy hair is slicked back in the usual style, although the London wind seems to have

misplaced a few strands. I’m out of breath just looking at him. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in casual

wear, and he’s hot. I feel like I’m meeting him for the first time. “No, Dave,” Christie responds kindly. I

can see she’s surprised to see him out of his formal attire. But he looks much better with this outfit. My

breathing is still laboured as he enters the apartment. I’ve been trying to forget about him since we left

the Hamptons, and seeing him in our home is weird. “Please accept my apologies for arriving

unexpectedly..” As he speaks, he moves further into the apartment and stands directly in front of me.

We lock eyes, and his intense gaze sucks me in like it always does. “I really need to speak to you,

Chelsea,” he continues shyly, as though surprised by my reaction. But my tongue is stuck between

Dave’s beauty and my pounding heart. I collected myself after a few more moments. “Dave… what are

you doing here?”

“Well, I wasn’t pleased with how things went down at the mansion,” he exhales deeply. I can tell there

is a lot of significance tied to the words he is attempting to speak. I don’t recall ever seeing him so

tense. It’s a far cry from the poised Mr. Brown who runs Brown Inc.

I’m sorry, Dave. Can I offer you a drink? My apologies for the state of the apartment, we’re just trying to

get things organized,” Christie cuts in.

“Oh no. I’m fine, Christie. Thank you. I just need a word with you and your sister.” His eyes are locked

on mine, and I flinch under his penetrative stare.

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