Page 58 of The Billionaire's Secret Heir

Chapter Eighteen

Madi tried to relax as the nurse pushed her down the hall in a wheelchair. She needed to focus on Becka, not about the conversation she just overheard. The nurse had walked in just after Madi heard Graham saying something about extortion. She couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation as she was trying to listen to what the nurse said about bringing her to Becka. And then she was focused on getting out of the room without them seeing her. She couldn’t control their speed as the nurse insisted that she had to transport her up to Becka’s room in a wheelchair.

Beckett, Graham, and Bret must have been just around the corner because she didn’t see them when the nurse pushed her to the elevator.

Becka wasn’t Beckett’s child?

She wouldn’t have believed it, except that in the brief part of the conversation she heard, Bret confirmed it. He and Calista were trying to run some kind of scam? Madi closed her eyes as the elevator doors closed. Her sister and Bret had been trying to get child support from Beckett. That made sense, as much as Madi didn’t want to believe that of her sister. It rang true.

As they got out on Becka’s floor, Madi’s stomach fell. This meant that Beckett wouldn’t be paying for child support anymore. With their impending breakup, that might actually be a good thing, as there wouldn’t be a sense of obligation. She and Becka could leave and completely separate themselves from him. But where would they go? How would she support them? She was right back to where they had been before. Except worse, because now she’d had a taste of love and kindness from Beckett. That would be gone. And, as grateful as she was that Becka was moving out of the ICU and would be okay, she didn’t want to think about the medical bills.

No money. No job. No place to live.

No Beckett.

As the nurse pushed her into the dimly lit room, Madi felt relief overtake her like a full-body sigh. Tears began to fall at the sight of Becka sleeping in a metal crib, a bandage covering one of her legs. Tears of relief at seeing Becka’s chest rise and fall, the way her eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks. But tears also from the pain of feeling like once again, everything had been ripped away from her. She got out of the wheelchair and the nurse rolled it away.

“I’ll leave you two alone. The couch actually slides out to give you more room for sleeping and there are some blankets there for you. We’ll be back throughout the night to check on her. You’re still under observation, so we’ll be doing your vitals as well.”

“Thank you,” Madi said.

“Do you want us to let your boyfriend know where you are?”

Madi swallowed, imagining Beckett’s face as she closed her eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

The nurse hesitated in the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought—”

“It’s okay. There was a lot of confusion. But no, he doesn’t need to worry about us anymore. He can just go home.”

The nurse gave her a look that was hard to decipher, then nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Madi moved to the crib and reached over the rails to lightly touch Becka’s hair. She stirred and sighed in her sleep, but did not open her eyes. It was an awkward angle, leaning over while trying to protect her sprained shoulder. Madi hummed a lullaby softly and kept her arm over the railing until she started to lose feeling in her fingers. Becka would be okay. They would both be okay.

The couch was under the window and simply too far from the crib at the center of the room. Madi wanted to be as close to Becka as possible, so she chose the chair right next to the crib, reclining it as far back as it would go and covering her legs with one of the blankets the nurse had left.

“This is a thing of beauty,” she whispered.

As she relaxed back into the chair, continuing to watch Becka’s chest rise and fall, Madi tried to think of how grateful she was for this: they had survived. There were huge worries and heartaches waiting for her, but they were outside this hospital room. She couldn’t think right now about where she and Becka would live or how she would pay bills. Beckett had no reason to pay thousands a month for a child that wasn’t his. She didn’t know what would happen with the whole clause about needing a child, but she couldn’t worry about that.

She needed to not care about Beckett. He had lied to her, or at least, kept really important information from her. And now he had every reason to cut ties. Even if Madi hadn’t known what Bret and Calista were trying to do, that was her sister. Her lawyer. The whole thing was a giant mess, but now he had every reason to extricate himself from the relationship with her.

Just thinking about this hurt. When she closed her eyes, she saw Beckett’s gaze when he looked at her. Had she just imagined how he felt? He had seemed so sincere.

But the whole situation was such a mess. The best thing for both of them was to cut all ties. She could start again. God would provide somehow, even if it wasn’t clear right now. Things had been way too good to be true and she had felt that the whole time. This? The crumbling of her hopes and her happiness felt much more like the reality she knew and understood.

She had Becka and needed to focus on that. No matter what else happened, she had the most important person in her life and needed to do everything possible to focus on taking care of her well. Even if it felt like her heart was shattering to pieces.

* * *

Madi hadn’t prepared to be in the hospital, so had to borrow a phone charger from a nurse the next day. Her phone had died sometime the night before. She didn’t know exactly when, because she had tossed it onto the couch so she wouldn’t be tempted to answer the texts that Beckett kept sending. They were growing in their desperation, coming every twenty minutes or so and Madi’s resolve not to answer him was crumbling.

Beckett:When I came back, you were gone. They said you changed rooms but won’t tell me where. Will you tell me?

Beckett:I just want to know that you’re okay. I’m still here.

Beckett:Madi, please? I need to know that you and Becka are okay. No one will give me updates.

He didn’t say why they wouldn’t tell him anything, but the unspoken was there between them: The hospital staff wouldn’t give him updates because they weren’t family. Every time Madi thought about this, she expected it to hurt less. But it didn’t. She couldn’t think about it much, though, trying to keep Becka contained in a hospital room.

Even after the blood loss and the transfusion and the trauma of the accident, Becka was everywhere. Hospital rooms—even ones outfitted for children—weren’t particularly safe. Did they expect her to stay in the crib? Really? Madi wondered this as she pulled Becka away from the cords attached to some kind of rolling-cart thing that wasn’t being used, but probably would have cost a few thousand dollars to replace. Madi kept trying to keep her occupied with whatever things she thought might cost less in the room: two whole boxes of tissue and blue latex gloves by the handful. The only thing in the room Becka didn’t care about was the television, but Madi kept it on—wishful thinking.

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