💞THE BILLIONAIRE SECRETARY 👩💻
{He’s a sëx freak
She’s crazy}
By Mhiz Topzy and Anny Oluchi
Genre-Billionaire romance
Not edited expect some errors
CHAPTER 47
JAMES POV
A MONTH LATER
I couldn’t believe how controlling my parents had become since Amy and I told them we have started dating officially. I knew they had suspected and so we just decided to tell them. Every time i mentioned her name, they would suddenly remember some important errand that needed to be done right away or some family friend that we absolutely had to visit.
It was frustrating, to say the least, but I knew that my parents had always been overprotective. They had known Amy’s parents for years, and they were worried that our relationship might ruin their friendship and I have tried to convince them otherwise.
Despite my parents’ attempts to keep us apart, Amy and I remained strong. We had been best friends since we were kids, and we knew that we were meant to be together. We spent as much time together as we could, sneaking around when my parents weren’t watching and stealing kisses whenever we got the chance.
One afternoon, Amy and I were sitting on the swings in the garden talking about our plans for the future. Amy complimented the garden even though she has been here more than a hundred times. Amy liked the simple and minimalistic things and it is an irony that she is the daughter of a popular actor.
I looked at the garden once again and I realize why she was taken away by the sheer beauty of the surroundings. The garden was a wonderland of colours, fragrances, and textures. The grass was a lush green, soft to the touch, and dotted with small, colourful flowers. The garden was meticulously manicured, with paths winding their way through the greenery, and small fountains and statues adding a sense of grandeur to the place.
In the centre of the garden, there stood two beautiful wooden swings, hanging from a sturdy oak tree and that was were we sat. The swings were made from polished oak and had intricate carvings that told a story of love and longing. Apparently, my parents carved their initials on it when they got married. The chains that held the swing were made from wrought iron and were adorned with delicate flowers and vines.
As we talked, I could feel the cool breeze caressing my face and the scent of roses filling my nostrils. I ran my hands over the smooth wooden seat of the swing and felt the softness of the cushions. The cushions were made from plush velvet, and their vibrant colours added a touch of elegance to the already gorgeous swing.
I sat on the swing and gently pushed it back and forth, revelling in the peace and quiet of the garden. I could hear the rustling of the leaves, the chirping of the birds, and the distant hum of the city. The garden was a sanctuary, a place of peace and tranquillity in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the city.
As I swung back and forth, I let my thoughts wander. I thought about the people who had walked these paths of life in my family before me, the memories they had made, and the secrets they had shared. I wondered what stories the swing had heard, what wishes it had granted, and what dreams it had witnessed.
The swing was a symbol of the beauty and grandeur of the mansion, but it was also a reminder of the fleeting nature of life. The swing would continue to hang from the oak tree, even as generations came and went, but the memories that were made in the garden would eventually fade away.
I continued to swing, lost in thought, until the sun began to set. The sky turned a brilliant shade of orange, and the air grew cooler. I got up from the swing and took Amy’s hands as we walked around the garden and unto the mansion. The garden was a marvel of beauty, a place where one could forget their worries and bask in the serenity of nature. The swing was a reminder of the fleeting nature of life, a symbol of the memories that would be made and eventually forgotten.
As we walked back into the mansion, I felt a sense of peace and contentment. The garden and the swing had worked their magic, and I knew that I would always remember this moment, this place, and this feeling.
Amy had just graduated from high school and was getting ready to start college in the fall. Amy wanted to study psychology, while I was still undecided even though I ought to have gone to college a year ago.
“I don’t know what I want to do,” I said, kicking my feet back and forth.
“You’ll figure it out,” Amy said, smiling at me. “You’re smart, James. You can do anything you want.”
I felt a surge of warmth in my chest at her words. Amy always knew how to make me feel better.
Suddenly, I heard my mother’s voice calling my name. I looked up and saw her walking towards us with my dad trailing behind her.
“James, we need to talk,” my mother said, her tone serious.
Amy and I exchanged a worried glance. I had a feeling I knew what this was about.
“Okay, Mom,” I said, standing up from the swing. “What’s going on?”
My mother looked at Amy, then back at me. “James, we’re concerned about your relationship with Amy.”
I rolled my eyes. Here we go again.
“What about it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“We just think that you two are spending too much time together,” my dad said, stepping forward. “It’s not healthy for a relationship to be so intense so early on.”
Amy stood up beside me, her expression defiant. “We’ve been friends since we were kids,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “Of course, we’re going to spend a lot of time together.”
My mother shook her head. “It’s not just that, Amy. We’re worried that you two are becoming too dependent on each other. It’s not healthy.”
I felt my anger rising. Who were they to tell us how we should feel about each other?
“You don’t understand,” I said, taking a step towards them. “Amy and I love each other. We’re not just kids playing around. We’re serious about each other.”
My dad looked at me, his expression softening a little. “We know you two care about each other, James. But you’re still young. You have your whole lives ahead of you. You don’t need to rush into anything.”
Amy squeezed my hand, her fingers warm against mine. “We’re not rushing,” she said. “We’re just taking things one day at a time.”
My mother sighed, looking tired. “We just want what’s best for you, James. And we’re worried that Amy might not be it.”
I felt a surge of anger at her words. How could she say that about the woman I loved?
“You don’t get to decide that,” I said, my voice cold. “Amy is my choice. And I’m not going to let you or anyone else come between us.”
My parents looked at me, their expressions conflicted. I knew they were worried about me, but they had to understand that I was an adult now. I had to make my own decisions.
After a moment of tense silence, my mother sighed. “Fine, James. We won’t interfere. But promise us that you’ll be careful, okay? Relationships can be complicated, and we just want you to be happy.”
I nodded, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “Thanks, Mom.”
Amy squeezed my hand again, her eyes bright with emotion. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.
We spent a few more minutes talking to my parents before they finally left, promising to give us some space. As soon as they were gone, Amy and I hugged each other tightly, grateful to be together again.
“I’m sorry about my parents,” I said, kissing her forehead.
Amy smiled at me. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”
And we did. Over the next few weeks, Amy and I grew even closer, building a relationship that was strong and resilient. We faced obstacles along the way, but we never let them come between us.
Looking back on that afternoon at the garden, I realized that my parents’ interference had been a blessing in disguise. It had forced us to be honest with each other, to face our fears and our doubts. And in the end, it had made us stronger.
Whenever we were together, we were always holding hands. If we walked around the streets , our hands were always hand in hand, I knew that no matter what the future held, I would always be grateful for the love I shared with Amy. And I knew that we would face wh@tëver challenges came our way, together. Even of it came from our parents, we would always find a way around it.
