Page 24 of The Billionaire's Secret Heir

“We will be. But it hasn’t been easy. She is truly incredible—much better with all of this than I am. I mean, she’s really struggling, especially with wanting a baby. But when you see her smiling, it’s not fake either.”

“I’m glad you have each other. And I’m really sorry that I didn’t know any of this. I didn’t ask and didn’t notice what was going on with you or with Papa. That’s not right.”

Graham slapped a hand on Beckett’s knee, briefly. “This got really heavy for a mid-week lunch conversation. I didn’t think we were much for drama, but now we’ve got dying relatives, marital issues, panic attacks, and secret babies. Did we turn into a soap opera just now?”

Beckett laughed. “Possibly. Let’s work on that. I’d love to know how you handle the panic attacks, for starters.”

Graham stared past Beckett toward the backyard and the sparkling blue pool. “A combination of things. I pray. But I also see a psychiatrist and take antidepressants.”

“Covering all the bases?” Beckett hadn’t meant to sound snide and hoped he hadn’t just offended Graham.

“Prayer isn’t a magic wand. Neither are drugs. So, yes—covering all the bases. Talking about it helps. I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you about it before. I feel like I’ve done a pretty horrendous job of being a good brother—biological and a Christian brother. Think you can forgive me? I’d like to do better. Less sticking my nose in and more support. How’s that sound?”

Seeing Graham humble was surprising. This whole visit had been, which was par for the week Beckett was having. “Of course. I think we could both use a reset.”

“That’s the perfect word for it. Yes. Let’s do that. Now, what are you going to do about your daughter? Becka. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you were trying to keep your distance by not using her name.”

Beckett rubbed a hand over his jaw. “I thought you were going to stick your nose in less?”

“Less. Didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. Especially this. Or, maybe the reset will start after this last piece of unsolicited advice. Meet her. Be her father. Let yourself fall in love with her. Be present as often as you can, give what you have. Nothing will be more worth your time.”

Graham paused. Beckett had no words in response. The weight of what Graham said settled on him heavily. He had been trying to keep this idea of Becka as just that—an idea. Becka wasn’t real if she was just some child out there who shared his biology. Part of a past that he held so much regret and shame over. But she was here now and he couldn’t change his past.

He would meet Becka. At least that. The financial piece was a given. Whether he would, as Graham put it, “fall in love with” Becka felt like a completely alien and unattainable idea. Seeing her meant seeing more of Madi, which thrilled and terrified him in a similar way. She had occupied a surprisingly large amount of his headspace this week. Would meeting Becka make the budding feelings for Madi grow or fade away as he got to know her more?

Graham stood and held out a hand. Beckett accepted it and stood, smoothing out his pants and shirt.

“One more thing, Beck.”

“What’s that?”

Grinning, Graham said, “Thank you for saving me from having to run the company. That would have been a nightmare.”

Beckett smiled. “Total disaster.”

“Glad we agree on that.”

“Also? I really like your kitchen tile. I never told you. But now that I’ve spent a good amount of time on it, I can say that it’s pretty great.”

Graham beamed. “Thank you. We were pleased. If you were going to pass out and wake up on a floor, I think this one was a good choice. Are you feeling okay now?”

“Okay” was such a general term. Was Beckett okay? In the sense of being alive, yes. He felt peaceful in the moment, but it was fragile, like a thin layer of ice that would wear through from the warmth of a fingertip or shatter completely. The massive events of this week sent emotions just below the surface shifting even more than they were before, restless for an outlet.

He probably needed to get home and swim. Swimming kept him in shape, but Beckett kept up the daily practice as more of a stress relief and a way to ease the tension from his muscles, to feel powerful and completely in control in ways that he couldn’t in other areas, no matter how hard he tried.

“I don’t know if I’m okay, but I think I will be.”

* * *

After leaving his brother’s house, he drove straight home and headed out to the Olympic-sized pool. During the winter and sometimes at night he turned on the heater, but now in the warm, almost-summer weather, it was deliciously cool against his skin. His River Oaks home was on a coveted double property and had clever privacy landscaping so he felt like he was in the middle of nowhere, rather than in the middle of a neighborhood in the middle of Houston. The sound of cars was never far-off, but it made Beckett think of the ocean and he didn’t mind it.

He warmed up with a few laps of freestyle, then launched into a 400-meter fly, finishing up with another 400, but an easy freestyle. He had a few favorite practice routines and this was one Beckett fell back on when he had tangled or heavy thoughts.

His father’s health was in decline.

He had a daughter.

He had experienced a panic attack.

Beckett climbed out of the pool, skin tingling, and stretched out on one of the lounge chairs, letting the sun beat into his skin until he felt the creep of sweat that meant he was ready for a shower. Thoughts of Madi swirled around his mind with the rest of his worries. The last thing he needed with everything else was some kind of romantic attachment. But the memory of Madi’s muscular legs flashed in his mind when he closed his eyes. He saw her face as she glared at him, telling him that she didn’t need his help. Rather than pushing him away, her stubbornness challenged him. And he loved a good challenge.

Beckett groaned. To think that when he first saw Madi, he thought that she was forgettable. She hardly faded into the background now.

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