The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 192

In the morning, Clarissa opened the door to wake her son. But she found Junior already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed with an unusual expression. Sullen. Pensive.

"Good morning, darling," Clarissa greeted cheerfully, putting on a perfect maternal smile. "Did you sleep well?"

Junior didn't answer immediately. He looked at his mother with a gaze that made Clarissa slightly uncomfortable—a gaze that seemed to be searching for something.

"Mommy left last night," Junior said quietly.

Clarissa's smile froze for a split second. "What?"

"Mommy promised to stay with me until morning. But when I woke up, Mommy wasn't there." Junior's voice was small, but there was a hurt tone in it. "Where did Mommy go?"

Clarissa quickly recovered, kneeling in front of Junior and stroking his hair. "Oh, darling. I'm sorry. Mommy just went to the bathroom for a bit. Then Mommy ended up falling asleep in her own room because she was too tired." She smiled gently. "Mommy didn't really leave you, you know. Mommy was in the next room."

Junior looked at Clarissa with furrowed brows. He didn't fully believe it. But Junior also didn't know how to argue.

"Come on, let's get up," Clarissa said, changing the subject. "You need to take a bath and have breakfast. You'll be late for school."

Junior got off the bed obediently, but his mind was still drifting. As Clarissa helped him get ready—picking out clothes, combing his hair—Junior suddenly asked in an innocent voice.

"Mommy, did I ever live with Alina?"

Clarissa's hand, which was combing Junior's hair, stopped instantly.

"Why are you asking that?" her voice changed, tension slipping in behind it.

"I had a dream," Junior said quietly. "I dreamed Alina taught me to write. And read me stories. And birthdays. It felt... so real, Mommy. Like it really happened."

Clarissa's face hardened, though she tried to hide it. She realized Junior's memories might be starting to return. Clarissa knelt again, looking into her son's eyes with an expression made as gentle as possible.

"Darling, listen to Mommy." Her voice was quiet, careful. "That's just a dream. Our brains sometimes make strange stories while we sleep. Especially since you often saw Alina in this house before she went to the hospital. It's natural for her to appear in your dreams."

"But it felt warm," Junior said in an almost whispering voice. "In that dream, Alina was so good to me. She never left me."

Something cold flickered in Clarissa's eyes.

This was what she feared. The memory that should have been lost due to that accident—that made Junior forget Alina—turned out not to have truly vanished. It had only been buried. And now, slowly, it was beginning to crawl back to the surface through dreams.

Clarissa couldn't let that happen.

"Junior." She held both of her son's shoulders, her voice firm but still gentle. "Alina is not a good person. Mommy already told you that, right? She's good at pretending. She can look kind and warm so people like her. But actually she's bad. She's the one who made our family talked about badly by everyone."

Junior fell silent, digesting those words.

"That dream was just a trick, darling," Clarissa continued. "Don't believe dreams. Believe Mommy. Mommy is the one who loves you. Mommy is the one who takes care of you. Not Alina."

Junior lowered his head.

He wanted to believe his mother. Mommy was always there—or at least, almost always. Mommy who prepared his breakfast, took him to school, read him stories before bed.

But last night, Mommy left even though she had promised not to.

And in his dream, Alina was never like that.

Those two things collided in Junior's small head, creating confusion he couldn't untangle. He was too young to understand manipulation, too innocent to recognize lies wrapped in affection. But his small instinct—an instinct pure and not yet contaminated—kept whispering that something wasn't right.

That the warmth in his dream couldn't just be a trick.

That the woman named Alina, somehow, had once meant something very important to him.

"Come on, breakfast is ready," Clarissa said, standing and taking Junior's hand. "Forget about that dream, okay? A good child should focus on learning, not thinking about strange things."

Junior nodded slowly, following his mother's steps out of the room.

But inside Junior's heart, that question didn't disappear. It only grew bigger.

"Is that real? Did Alina really used to be a good mama for him?"

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