The Billionaire's Insignificant Wife novel Chapter 95

Junior looked at each of them in turn.

“Papa,” he said, looking at Daniel. Clear. Certain.

“Grandma.” Looking at Margaret. Also certain.

Then Clarissa. He stared longer. Confusion evident.

“You’re…” He struggled. “You’re here a lot. But I don’t…” He touched his head again, wincing. “I can’t remember your name.”

Clarissa’s face went white. Then red. Tears forming fast.

“I’m your mama, Junior. Your real mama. I came back for you. Don’t you remember? We’ve been-”

“Clarissa.” Dr. Emily’s voice held warning. “Pushing him to remember can cause more distress and potentially worsen the cognitive effects. We need to let the brain heal.”

“But he has to remember-”

“What he has to do,” Dr. Emily said firmly, “is rest and recover. Memory may or may not return on its own timeline. Forcing it won’t help.”

She turned back to Junior. “What about someone named Alina? Do you know that name?”

Junior’s face shifted. Something flickered in his eyes. Not quite recognition but not complete blankness either.

“Mama,” he said. Soft. Almost reflexive.

Everyone in the room went still.

“Mama?” Dr. Emily prompted gently. “Can you tell me more about Mama?”

Junior’s brow furrowed. He looked frustrated. Lost.

“There’s Mama. She’s…” His small hands moved, trying to shape something his words couldn’t find. “She’s there. When I’m scared. When it’s dark. She…” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I want Mama.”

Tears started sliding down his face.

“But I don’t remember. I don’t remember her face. I just know…” He sobbed once. Small chest heaving. “I just know she’s supposed to be here.”

Daniel felt something crack inside his chest. Physical pain radiating outward from the center.

Junior remembered the feeling of Alina. The safety. The comfort. The presence that had defined his entire

conscious life.

But not her face. Not her name beyond “Mama.” Not the specific memories of five years spent together.

All of it reduced to an ache. A sense of absence without understanding what was absent.

“Where is she?” Junior asked, looking at Dr. Emily with streaming eyes. “Where’s Mama? Why isn’t she here?”

Dr. Emily looked at Daniel. Waiting.

Everyone looked at Daniel.

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Junior’s eyes found his father’s face. “Papa, where’s Mama?”

The question hung in the air like an accusation.

And Daniel had no answer that wouldn’t be a lie.

Clarissa recovered first, moving forward with a brightness that was too forced, too desperate.

“Sweetheart, Mama is–Mama is resting. She’s not feeling well. But I’m here. Mama Rissa is here. And I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Junior looked at her. Blank. Confused.

“But I want Mama,” he said simply. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not you.”

The words hit Clarissa like a slap.

Her face cycled through shock, hurt, then something harder. Something calculating beneath the maternal mask.

“Junior, that’s not kind-”

“He has a traumatic brain injury,” Dr. Emily cut in. Voice cold now. Professional distance replaced by something protective. “He’s confused and in pain. What he needs right now is minimal stress and maximum rest. I’m going to ask all of you to leave while we run the CT scan.”

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