Page 71 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

“Is she okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, though my emotions are already spiraling.

“She’s stable,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “But… she’s claiming she doesn’t remember anything. The doctors think it might be amnesia caused by shock.”

I don’t know what to say. My mind is racing, a jumble of thoughts and feelings I can’t quite pin down. Becky. Vulnerable. Needing help. And Nate—Nate stepping in, because of course he would.

“What does this mean?” I ask finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the floor. “The doctors think it’s best if she’s in a familiar environment. Somewhere safe. They suggested… here.”

I blink, caught completely off guard. “Here?”

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he says quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “But it’s temporary. Just until she recovers. I wouldn’t do this if the doctor didn’t think it was necessary.”

I take a step back, needing the physical space to process what he’s saying. “Nate, this is your house. You can make whatever decisions you want.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” he says, his tone firm but gentle. “I’m asking if you’re okay with it. I need to know how you feel about this.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the words catch in my throat. How do I feel about this? Becky—his ex-wife, the womanwho walked out on him and Max—is suddenly going to be living under the same roof as us?

But then I see the worry etched on his face, the guilt in his eyes, and I know I can’t let my emotions take over. Becky is in a vulnerable state, and if she needs help, who am I to stand in the way?

“I…” I start, then pause, forcing myself to breathe. “I don’t know how I feel about it, but I know what needs to be done. If this is what she needs to get better, then… we do it.”

His shoulders relax slightly, and he steps closer, his hand reaching for mine. “Thank you,” he says softly, his voice filled with gratitude.

I look up at him, my walls cracking just a little. “I’m not doing this for her,” I admit. “I’m doing it for you. For Max. Because that’s what matters.” Nate does so much for me and is so caring. How can I not be as supportive as he needs right now?

He squeezes my hand, and for a moment, we just stand there, the silence between us heavy, but not uncomfortable.

“I promise you,” he says finally, his voice steady and sure, “this is temporary. As soon as she’s better, she’ll be out of our lives.”

I nod, though a small part of me can’t help but wonder if it’s really going to be that simple.

***

When Nate picks Max up from school, he has a talk with him about Becky. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but absolutely necessary. He told me that it “went ok” whatever that means. But he does say that Max seems to be fine and took the information as if a guest was coming to stay. His memories of his mother are likely very slim, thankfully. I guess.

When he leaves to pick Becky up that evening, I try to keep myself busy. I clean the living room, straighten the cushions onthe couch, and reorganize the books on the shelf - all things that don’t need doing but feel necessary in the moment.

By the time I hear the car pull into the driveway, my nerves are frayed. I wipe my hands on my jeans, forcing myself to stay calm as the front door opens.

And then I see her.

Becky’s arms are wrapped around Nate’s, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. She looks fragile, her face pale and her movements slow, but there’s something in her eyes - something that sets me on edge.

“Liz,” Nate says, his tone warm but cautious. “This is Becky.”

“Hi,” Becky says, her smile polite but not quite reaching her eyes. “Nate mentioned you’re Bryan’s sister. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” I reply, forcing a smile.

Her gaze flickers over me, taking in every detail. “How long are you staying here?” she asks, her tone casual but pointed.

“Long enough,” I say evenly, refusing to rise to the bait.

“Alright,” Nate interjects quickly, his tone firm. “Let’s get you settled, Becky. You need to rest.”

But Becky’s mood shifts in an instant. Tears well up in her eyes, and she clutches Nate’s arm tighter. “The guest room? Why can’t I stay in our room?”

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