BETROTHED TO THE BILLIONAIRE

Valerie’s POV

A noise wakes me up.

I flutter my eyes open instantly, to see the lights still on. Ryan didn’t switch them off before going to sleep on the couch and I didn’t do the same before sleeping off.

Wondering what noise woke me up, I try to sit upright but my shoulders hurt badly. Then, I remember.

I was attacked last night and I just had a dream. My desire to know who really attacked me led me to have this horrible dream.

I was seeing faces but three faces were familiar. One was Fred’s. The second was Brenda and the third was nameless.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

I have no idea where I know her from but I am sure she is someone that I know. I was seeing more of these three faces and I was so sure one of them was responsible for last night’s attack.

Now that I am awake, I am so sure that none of these people are responsible because the culprit seemed to be going his way before he saw a good opportunity to rob me since I was all alone on the empty street.

Sighing heavily, I step down slowly from the bed, feeling the sudden urge to urinate. My bladder feels extremely full and I wonder if it is actually the urge to pee that woke me up or the so-called silly dream I just had.

Unhurriedly, I saunter to the bathroom door and turn the doorknob to enter.

I help myself to ease the urge to urinate before washing up and stepping out again, hoping to catch some more sleep.

Now that I think of it, the dream might be a result of the medicines I was given at the hospital last night which made me drowsy immediately.

I remember there was a time I was sick and I was given some drugs which were making me have lots of nightmares for a whole week. The doctor said it was just a side effect and it will stop.

It stopped but it almost threatened my whole existence.

I was 15 when it happened and I almost lost that strong-willed, bubbling, bright nature that I had then. I barely got sick and I couldn’t complain about the nightmares anymore because my mother wasn’t taking it seriously ever since the doctor waved it away as the side effects of the medicine.

Within a month, I was back to my normal self.

I lay back on the bed with my unhurt hand behind my head as I stare at the ceiling, my mind wandering back to last night.

The discussion I had with my parents kept bothering me. I have a bad feeling about this for no reason and I really hope it isn’t what I am thinking.

If Ryan isn’t involved in this, then does it mean his father is doing this intentionally?

If they are friends like I was made to believe, then he should help as fast as possible. I don’t even need to be married to his son for him to help my father but I guess promises are meant to be fulfilled not broken.

If this is the case, then he should fulfill the promise he made to my father since my parents did a great job at convincing me thereby fulfilling their end of the bargain.

The noise comes back.

It sounds like a sob and I sit upright immediately, wondering where it is coming from.

I thought I woke up from a bad dream or as a result of my full bladder, but now I know it isn’t any of the two.

A noise actually woke me up and that noise isn’t from me.

Quickly, my eyes dart to the couch where Ryan is laying peacefully with his arms folded.

I am about to wave it away thinking it is just a figment of my imagination when I notice that his mouth is slightly open.

Is he the one producing the sound?

I hate to be wide awake at midnight. I think too wildly for my good.

I hiss and turn away when the sob hits my ears again, this time louder and obviously from where Ryan is sleeping.

Ryan? Is he having a nightmare?

I find myself on my feet, ambling toward him. His arms are no longer folded, they are beside him as he tosses.

Before I can get close, he begins to struggle with something in his sleep and I rush to his side. He balls his hand into a fist and hits it into the empty air before going sideways and hitting the edge of the couch.

“Ryan?” I call out in fear before I know it.

Forgetting that I am also hurt, I grab his hands so he won’t hurt himself and I wince in pain.

Before I can adjust to the pain and hold his hands more firmly, it slips off and his eyes flutter open to meet mine.

I do not know the kind of expression I have on my face right now but I am sure it is close to the expression someone would have when in pain because Ryan sits up quickly. “Are you ok?”

I nod, feeling embarrassed for being caught holding his hand.

“Why are you here?” He asks as he takes his hand off my shoulder, making me wonder if he knows that I just woke him up from a nightmare or not.

He isn’t acting like he is aware.

“You were having a nightmare”, I reply and stand back up before turning to go back to bed. Now, I am more than sure that I won’t sleep.

“A nightmare?” His questions stop me dead in my tracks.

I have been thinking inwardly about when he started having nightmares like this and why. I don’t know why I always feel so scared of nightmares but it usually leaves a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach, probably because of the nightmares I used to have when I was younger.

They were horrible. Scary. Unrealistic.

Sometimes, I dream of being tied up. Other times, I dream of being pursued and after a while, I will find myself stuck in a position till the pursuer catches me.

I don’t want to remember them.

Now that Ryan is asking me, I am sure he doesn’t know he had a nightmare. Or maybe this is the first time he is having a nightmare in years.

I used to think every kid out there was bound to have nightmares. That was my belief because, after a while, I began to ask every single kid that came my way if they always had nightmares.

“You don’t remember?” I turn back squarely to face him.

Confusion skates his expression. I sigh and look away.

If he goes back to sleep, he might still have the same nightmare. What if he hurts himself?

“Come sleep on the bed”, I say nonchalantly and turn back to continue walking to the bed.

If he sleeps beside me, I will monitor him. If he starts to shake vigorously, I will find a way to stop him from hurting himself.

“What!” The exclamation is mixed with a snort of disbelief.

“You don’t want to come to sleep with me on the bed?”

I already deprived him of his bed. The best I can do right now is let him have the comfort of the bed while I monitor him since I won’t find sleep anytime soon.

My father used to do the same thing with me then. Whenever he was close to me, I don’t have nightmares and I guess the bond between us today was created that year.

That bond is unbreakable.

I am not doing this to create any bond between Ryan and me. I just want to help him overcome what is about to start. It shouldn’t even start because it is a terrible feeling that leaves people unsure about their existence or unsure about what will happen the very next day.

Ryan is examining me with mouth agape. He can’t believe I am offering him the same bed I pushed him off last night.

I can be stone-hearted when I want to be but in situations like this, it gets softened.

If he misbehaves, it will go back to its normal position, though.

I twirl around and climb into bed, my back to the bed, my unhurt hand over my head, and my eyes fixed on the ceilings.

From nowhere, something jumps right next to me on the bed and I jerk up in fright to see Ryan beside me with a huge smile on his face.

How the hell did he sneak out to me without making a noise?

Did he pretend to be having a nightmare just for me to do this? Why is he over-excited about this?

I shift to the edge to create a huge gap between us as I glare at him harshly and the wide grin on his face turns into a smile. “Thank you.”

After saying that, he closes his eyes while he sleeps on his side with a smile still on his face.

I watch him go back to sleep before heaving a deep sigh of relief.