DON'T TOUCH MY HEART AGAIN

Banny Carter just stood there, looking out the huge window of his fancy penthouse. Chicago stretched out below him, a crazy mix of lights and shadows. It was a long way from the South Side, where he grew up scrapping for everything. Life back then was a daily grind, full of hard knocks that taught him stuff people couldn't learn in any school. Those lessons turned him into who he was now: a tech billionaire with fingers in all sorts of pies, from finance to property.

But even with all the cash, the clout, and the over-the-top luxury, something felt missing. Like a puzzle with a piece gone.

He turned away from the view, the city lights fading behind him. His eyes stopped on a small, beat-up street-lamp plate sitting on his desk. It had the letters B.C. and P.W. scratched into it. That beat-up piece of metal was all that was left of her.

Peggy Whitmore. The one who’d stomped on his heart, left him in the dust, and married some other dude. All this time later, she was still hanging around his head like a bad dream.

Banny ran his fingers over the plate, the cold metal sending a shiver of regret through him. He remembered promising her, One day, I’ll be someone you can’t walk away from.” He thought he had kept that promise for sure which was building up his empire by success. But Peggy? She walked, leaving him with a bad ache where the love used to be.

Just then, the door barged open, waking him out of his thoughts. His assistant, Erika, walked in, her heels clicking on the shiny floor.

“Mr. Carter, you have a visitor,” she said, her voice quiet, like she didn't want to bug him.

“Who is it?” he asked, still staring at the plate.

“Carmen Rivera. She's the one working on the children’s museum design.”

That got his interest. He’d been keeping his distance from her for like a long time - not because she sucked at her job; she was seriously talented. But she had this fierce attitude that made him a bit nervous. She was the type who stays true to her core values, and don't change even by bag of cash. Still, he had this strange feeling that he was pulling to him. Her excitement about the museum project had been contagious, and it was her ability to challenge him that got the most attention.

“Send her in,” he said, trying to keep his voice normal.

A few seconds later, Carmen came in. She had this natural confidence you don't often see in someone who isn't used to mixing with big shots. She was everything he wasn’t like outgoing, not complicated, and real. No matter how hard he tried to focus on the company project, she just made him feel more like a real person, and less like a heartless rich dude.

“Mr. Carter,” she said, her voice a good mix of strength and friendliness. “We should discuss what we’re planning to design the children’s museum.”

He just nodded slightly, staying put. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve looked at your info,” she said, dropping her design on his desk. “But the first plan doesn’t click with the area much. If we want this museum to do something good, we should think more than just some displays. It should spark feelings and make people question things.”

Banny leaned back in his chair, looking her up and down. She wasn't scared to stand for up herself, by questioning him like most people don't. He didn’t care, which was new.

“Alright sounds great, but probably, we need to meet in the middle if we aiming for big impact,” he said, his business voice taking over. “Likely, It’ll take more budget than before, and it will not accepted by the board.

She stood firm. “That’s why you got me on board, ain’t it? Because you knew I’d push different boundaries.”

The room went quiet for a second, tension filling the silence. Banny was generally fond of being in charge, with everyone following his lead. But Carmen was something else. Which made him more uncomfortable.

“I didn’t choose anyone to make it easy,” he said quietly. “I chose you because you’re the best around. Don’t you forget that.”

Raising an eyebrow, she answered, “I won't forget it. Now, let's get down to business.”

Just as she pulled out her designs, Banny’s phone went off the hook. He saw the name and his heart almost stop: Peggy Whitmore-Cole.

Without thinking, he answered.

“Banny, it’s Peggy.” Her voice was a bit shaky, and something’s wrong that made him uneasy. “I need to see you. It relates to Max.”

His heart seemed stopped. Max. The boy Peggy raised together with her late husband. The boy who hadn’t even been in his life, at least for what he knew.

“I’ll be where you are in a hour,” he replied, his voice tight.

After hanging up, he stared at the phone. He hadn’t talked to Peggy for many years, and right right now, she just contacted him out of nowhere

“Mr. Carter, is everything Okay?” Carmen’s voice shocked him out of his thoughts.

He saw her eyes looking at him. Banny hesited for one time.

“Something came up,” he said quickly. “I got to go. Do you think you can hold on from me without me?”

Carmen stared at him, her face made him questioned if she wanted to know more. “Yeah i'll be good,” she replied steadily as she turned to leave. But before left, she glanced and advised: “I think what everyone should know is, no amount of cash can fix everything. Generally it’s more better to solve the past.”

His face tensed. He had spent so many years working hard to build his company as a method to escape his past, but suddenly what he does now is crashing him back.

Banny pressed his phone tighter against his ear, even after the call had gone silent. His pulse pounded in his ears — a rush of nervous energy he hadn’t felt in years. The mention of Max, the urgency in Peggy’s voice — it opened up something he thought he had locked away.

He turned back toward the window and let his gaze rest on the city sprawled beneath him — the city that made him, and nearly broke him. All these years, he hadn’t let anyone close, hadn’t let anyone see his vulnerable side. Now, a phone call from the past was threatening to undo everything he’d kept buried.

He drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself. His grip tightened briefly on the phone before he slipped it back into his pocket. Carmen’s words kept ringing in his mind: “No amount of cash can fix everything. It’s more better to solve the past.”

He turned back to his desk, reluctantly forced to refocus. The children’s museum plans were there, neatly laid out — a manifestation of his wish for renewal, a way to redeem his own struggles by helping future generations. And yet, here he was, about to come face to face with the greatest mess he’d ever made in his own life.

He pressed a button on his phone. “Erika… please clear my calendar today. Push back whatever you can. I need to be away.” His voice was firm, not a tremble in sight, a mask he’d mastered over the years.

He slid a thick manilla envelope from a locked drawer — financial statements, a stack of photographs, a piece of paper with Max’s birth certificate — all the files he kept safely secured in case the moment ever came. The moment when he might need to confront the greatest regret in his past.

He placed the envelope in his briefcase and clicked it shut.

Walking toward the elevator, his mind was battling a growing rush of memories. The nights he and Peggy stayed up, talking about their future. The promises made. The promises broken. The moment he chose power over happiness — a choice he could feel the effects of even today.

He pressed the button to reach the basement garage. His stomach tightened — a nervous feeling he hadn’t gotten in years — much more than when closing a high-stakes deal or securing a huge investment. This was different. This was raw.

He slid into the driver’s seat of his black sedan, turned the engine, and began maneuvering through the city’s streets toward the address Peggy had texted him. His grip on the steering wheel grew tighter with each block. The rain started to come down — first a light drizzle, then a heavy downpour — bouncing off his windshield and turning the city’s glow into a riotous blend of color.

He turned down the side street that fell into shadow. His headlights glimmered against the wet pavement, bouncing off abandoned storefronts and glimmering puddles. His GPS said he was close — just a few more turns — until he’d see the face he hadn’t been able to forget in all these years.

He turned a corner, and there it was — a small brick rowhouse with a single light on in the window. His pulse faltered. His grip tightened on the wheel. This was it. The moment he’d been avoiding for so long.

He turned off the engine, turned off the headlights, and stepped out into the rain. His umbrella stayed closed — a silent affirmation to himself — he was ready to face whatever came. His feet fell into a puddle as he crossed the street. His pulse pounded in his ears.

He was just a few feet away from that yellow pool of light when the thunder rumbled — a piercing crack — and the power in the neighborhood went out. The rowhouse fell into complete darkness. At that moment, a silhouette appeared in the doorway.

Banny held his breath, unsure if he was looking at the woman he hadn’t been able to let go — or something much more sinister.