Married to a Vegetative Billionaire

Gregory Mitchell sat at his mahogany desk, his fingers drumming absently against the polished surface as he reviewed the latest financial reports. Outside the window of his modest home office, the winter sun cast long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn. His business wasn't booming, but it was stable-steady enough to keep the bills paid and provide a comfortable life for him and his daughter. But things have not been looking up lately.

He leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a brief moment to relax. At sixty-three, Gregory had a life many would envy. A semi-successful small business, a warm home, and a daughter any father would be proud of. Yet, as he glanced at the framed photo on his desk-himself, his late wife, and a younger Aria smiling at the camera-he couldn't help but feel a pang of emptiness.

It had been seven years since his wife, Lillian, passed away, and in those years, Gregory had transformed into a man he hardly recognized. He had buried himself in his work, throwing every ounce of energy into his construction company. At first, it had been a way to cope, to keep himself too busy to feel the grief that threatened to consume him. But over time, it became a habit-a way of life.

And in the process, he had built a wall between himself and Aria.

-

Aria Mitchell tapped her pen against the dining table, her eyes scanning the handwritten list in front of her. It was Saturday afternoon, and she had spent the better part of the morning planning what she hoped would be a perfect father-daughter day.

She had chosen activities Gregory used to enjoy before everything changed-breakfast at their favorite diner, a walk in the park, and maybe even a stop at the art gallery downtown. She had put so much thought into it, certain that this time he wouldn't say no.

She folded the list and slipped it into her pocket, determination flickering in her chest. She marched to his office and knocked softly on the door.

"Come in," Gregory's voice called from inside, distracted as always.

Aria pushed the door open and stepped inside, her smile tentative. Gregory glanced up briefly, his face softening when he saw her.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said, but his eyes quickly dropped back to the papers on his desk.

Aria took a deep breath. "Dad, I was thinking... maybe we could spend some time together today? It's been a while."

Gregory looked up again, frowning slightly as if the idea were foreign to him. "What do you mean?"

"I made a list," she said, pulling it out of her pocket. "We could grab breakfast at Ruby's Diner, then go for a walk in the park. And there's a new exhibit at the gallery I think you'd like. It'll be fun."

Gregory leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. "Aria, I'd love to, but I have a lot of work to do. There's a project deadline coming up, and I-"

"You always have a project deadline," Aria interrupted, her voice tinged with frustration. "Can't you take one day off? Just one?"

"Aria, you don't understand," he said, his tone firmer now. "If I don't stay on top of things, this business could collapse. And then where would we be?"

She opened her mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped her. It wasn't anger or annoyance-it was fear. Fear of failing, fear of losing what little control he had left.

"Fine," she said softly, tucking the list back into her pocket. "Forget I asked."

She turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind her. Gregory stared after her, guilt twisting in his chest. But instead of calling her back, he picked up his pen and returned to his work.

The years passed in much the same way. Aria, ever hopeful, would plan ways to spend time with her father, only to be met with the same excuses. At first, she had fought back, arguing and pleading with him to prioritize their relationship. But eventually, she stopped trying.

Their interactions became polite but distant, like two strangers sharing the same house. They spoke about practical things-groceries, bills, the occasional update about her college classes-but the warmth and connection they once shared had vanished.

Aria couldn't help but resent him for it. She had lost her mother too, but she hadn't buried herself in work or shut him out. All she wanted was to feel close to him again, to know that he cared. But Gregory seemed incapable of giving her that.

And Gregory? He told himself he was doing what was best for both of them. If he worked hard enough, if he provided enough, it would make up for the emotional distance. But deep down, he knew it was a lie. Every time he saw the sadness in Aria's eyes, every time she walked away with slumped shoulders, the guilt gnawed at him.

It was a chilly Sunday morning when Gregory finally realized how much he had lost.

He was sitting in the kitchen, sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper, when Aria came downstairs. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled back in a casual ponytail.

"Good morning," he said, his voice cautious.

"Morning," she replied without looking at him. She grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and started heading for the door.

"Going somewhere?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, pausing briefly. "I'm meeting some friends for brunch."

Gregory nodded, but something about the way she said it felt off. She didn't sound excited or happy-just... resigned.

"Have fun," he said, forcing a smile.

"Thanks," she muttered, and then she was gone.

He sat there in silence, staring at the empty doorway. The house felt impossibly quiet, and for the first time, Gregory felt the full weight of the distance between them. He had missed so much-her first heartbreak, her triumphs, her struggles-all because he couldn't face his own pain.

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He couldn't let this continue. He had to fix things.

Gregory grabbed his coat and car keys, determined to catch up with her. He would take her out to lunch, listen to her, and finally make an effort to bridge the gap he had created.

But as he reached for the doorknob, his phone buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and froze.

It was a notification for an urgent meeting with Hugh Sterling.

Gregory stared at the phone, torn between two choices. If he skipped the meeting, it could jeopardize his business. But if he didn't go after Aria, he might lose his chance to make things right.

For a long moment, he stood there, his hand hovering over the doorknob, his thoughts a whirlwind of regret and indecision.

Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned back toward the kitchen and picked up his phone.