by Hart, Hanna
They reached his mansion after forty minutes of driving. It felt like the longest car ride of his life.
Beckett slammed the car door behind him, and when they were both inside the house, he slammed the front door shut, too.
He thought about going into his study for that drink but grit his teeth as he thought about how far he'd come this past month. He drank socially, sure, but he hadn't drunk to escape his pain like he had been doing after Lynne and Michael died.
Fiona stood in the foyer awkwardly, clutching her purse to her body. He looked behind her at the entrance to the living room and the offshoot to the kitchen and felt a sinking feeling through his stomach once more, thinking that there was a chance that his house would once again be filled with a child's footsteps or their laughter. Or their tears.
He wanted Michael to be the only child ever to live here. Now Fiona was taking that away from him.
Beckett couldn't speak to her tonight.
"I'm going to bed," he said sharply and began his ascent up the stairs.
"You don't want to talk to me?" she asked meekly, looking up at him with her deep blues.
"No," he said without turning, "I don't."
"Beckett," she called up the stairs. "I need to talk to you."
"About what?" he shouted, turning at the top of the stair landing. "What do you have to say to me? You lied to me, Fiona! You lied about your daughter. Who does that?"
"The ad said—"
"The ad said I didn't want kids, and you replied to it anyway! I told you, several times, and under no uncertain terms, I didn't want children. You still didn't tell me. I shared with you about my son, and you still didn't say anything! You didn't care about me—"
"That's not true!" she interrupted. "Beckett, I love you! Why do you think I'm telling you all of this? I love you, but I miss her so much and I feel so guilty..." Fiona began to cry before she could finish her sentence. She fell to the floor at the bottom of the stairs in a heap of ginger hair and floral fabric. She brought her hands to her face and sobbed into them, wracking herself for breath.
He felt bad for her. He did. But his anger wouldn't let him go to her.
"You shouldn't have lied to me," he said.
"I know," she cried; her voice cracking as she spoke. "I didn't want to lie anymore. But Beckett, I had to."
"Because you wanted the money," he snapped coldly.
She looked up at him, glassy-eyed, from the bottom of the stairs. To his surprise, she nodded and said, "Yes."
Beckett gritted his teeth with irritation at her behavior. He looked down at Fiona and couldn't help but think how utterly small she looked.
“Nice,” he spat. "Any other bombshells you want to drop on me tonight?"
Fiona looked up at him, and suddenly her breathing slowed and her tears stopped. She looked pained, and Beckett felt himself tense as she nodded.
He swallowed, and his emotion felt like glass going down his throat. "There is?" he said, half in shock and half in panic.
What else could she possibly have to tell him? Was she still in a relationship with Ruby's father?
Fiona cried harder, and he watched her as carefully as he might watch a ghost. She couldn’t say anything through her tears. This annoyed Beckett, and he snapped, “You used me.”
“No,” she shook her head, crying harder. “Beckett, please, let me…” she inhaled sharply, and it looked almost painful to her. “Please…” she continued, trying hard to suck air in. She was so starved for air that he almost felt worried for her, but for all he knew, this was just the way she got when she was upset.
Fiona's tongue searched her mouth, and her movements seemed sticky and unsure. "I needed the money," she said with excruciating effort. She seemed like she wanted to say more, but she couldn't force the words out.
Her tone and tremor started to upset him and he walked halfway down the staircase, against his better judgment.
"Fiona, what is it?" he asked, feeling more concerned now than anything. "Are you alright?"
She shook her head and set her hand against her throat, prompting Beckett to run down the remaining flight of stairs and kneel down beside her.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a panic. "Fiona, should I call nine-one-one? Do you have an inhaler or something I should get?"
Fiona pressed her eyes shut, tilted her chin up, and shook her head. He put a hand on hers and gripped it hard in his palm.
"It's okay," he said in his most calming voice. He wasn't too fond of her at this very moment, but he did love her, and he didn't want her to get so worked up that she couldn't breathe. "Calm down."
Fiona kept her eyes closed and took a few shallow breaths. Her face had turned apple red from lack of breath. She moved her hand from her throat down to her heart. It was beating so loud that even he could hear it.
After a few moments of him calming her down, she began breathing like normal again.
"What's wrong?" he repeated once she seemed to have settled down.
Fiona inhaled a shaky breath and opened her eyes.
"Do you have more kids than you're letting on?" he said. His tone was low and serious, but both knew he was trying to make a joke.
Fiona laughed sadly and shook her head, wiping away some of the mascara that had ridden on the crest of her tear and found its way down to her cheek.
"Worse," she croaked out.
"Worse?" he repeated, confused and quickly going into a panic. "What do you mean worse?"
"I'm so sorry, Beckett," she said slowly. "I'm dying."
She told him everything.
She explained to him how she had cardiomyopathy; her left ventricle was now so enlarged that it wasn't functioning properly anymore. She said that if she didn't get a heart transplant within a month, she would be dead.
That's why she needed the money.
That was why she abandoned her daughter to live with some strangers while she played the role of his doting wife.
Beckett thinned his lips and turned his face from her. He was going to be sick.
Chapter Fifteen
Fiona
The days that followed Maggs wedding were a slew of emotions. Beckett had been cold at first. He spent a lot of time in his room, just as she had expected. But he hadn't left the house since their conversation, which was a surprise to her. He hadn't even so much as gone into the restaurant.
Gone were the days of reading to one another at night or sitting out on the beach at one in the morning talking about life and their dreams and the funny things they had come across that particular day.
Now their conversations were staggered and emotional.
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner," Beckett would often lament with his finger and thumb pressed firmly against the bridge of his nose. "We could have done something," he said.
"There's nothing left to do," she shrugged. "The doctors have me on all the right medication for it. I'm on the donor list. That's it, babe. That's all I can do—money or no money."
She had told him these things so many times that it had started to physically hurt when he would ask the question.
In a way, Fiona was impressed with him since his finding out.
She loved Beckett. There was no denying it. But she saw his flaws clearly. He was spoiled and could be extremely self-centered. He had taken her on a whole tour of his life without so much as asking what her life-changing moments were. Often, he would think about himself before considering others.
But not now.
Now his sole concern seemed to be her wellbeing. He made sure she was well fed and constantly resting. He would check the news every morning and night, morbidly looking to see if there had been any accidents in the surrounding area that may result in her getting a heart transplant.
He even kept an alert on his phone about them.
Today was the first day that he had gone out, and she couldn’t say she blamed him. She knew what he was going through. He lost a wife and a child. Now it looked like she would be facing
the same ordeal, in a way. She wouldn't get to be with Ruby or watch her grow up. She was losing her.
Beckett fell in love only to find out the object of his affections was dying. Fiona had fallen in love after so much time feeling numb, only to be ripped away from her new life.
It had been hours since Beckett left and she missed him terribly. Even in the moments when they weren’t speaking or doing anything particularly interesting, it was just comforting to know that he was there beside her, just in case she needed him or wanted someone to talk to or play with.
She felt immediate relief when she heard the front door open and shut in quick succession.
She sat up in her bed, feeling weak and hungry, and called out, “Beckett?”
Fiona listened as he ascended the massive staircase and was overcome with a scream of excitement followed by endless tears as Beckett emerged through the doors carrying her little daughter.
She had spoken with Kathleen days earlier to talk about Ruby coming to Nani Makai, but she hadn’t expected Beckett to personally go and fetch her.
“Oh, Ruby!” she cried, reaching her arms out to hold her baby girl.
Beckett smiled as he saw her reaction and placed her warm daughter into her arms.
Fiona cried as she leaned in to smell her. She cried as she tickled and held her. And when Beckett tried to give them a moment alone, she reached for his hand and pulled him close.
“Thank you,” she said firmly, knowing how hard this must have been for him. “Thank you, Beckett.”
He gave a small smile and looked down at her baby.
“You guys look good together,” he said with no small amount of charm in his tone. She knew this was likely a cover for how many conflicting emotions were surging through him at the moment, but she couldn’t refute his kindness.
“There’s a delivery waiting outside. I’m going to go get it,” he said, and Fiona raised her brows. “A crib and some other items you’re going to need if she’s going to be living here.”
And just like that, Ruby moved in. Just in time to be with Fiona for the few weeks she had left.
There was nothing she could ever do to thank Beckett for what he had done today. She only hoped that Ruby’s presence in their lives, for however brief it was, could bring them closer together instead of pulling them apart.
Chapter Sixteen
Beckett
Ruby cried. A lot.
Beckett never remembered Michael being such a noisy, unhappy baby. Though, he couldn’t blame Ruby for her unhappiness. She had been separated from her mother for over a month and was now in a completely new atmosphere.
He stepped out into the hall and sauntered down toward Fiona’s room and peeked through the open door. She must have been exhausted because Fiona wasn’t getting up to tend to her daughter.
Beckett stepped into the room and could see the blond little girl standing up in her crib. He walked to Fiona’s bedside and leaned in to make sure she was still breathing.
It was a common worry for him now.
One week ago, he wouldn’t have thought anything of Fiona taking a nap or sleeping in. Now, he constantly feared that the next morning would be the day where she didn’t wake up.
He rarely slept now because of this. It was terrifying to be back in that headspace—to worry about your whole life falling apart, especially when he’d only just begun to rebuild it.
Beckett sat on the floor next to Ruby’s crib and set his hand into the crib.
“Don’t you want to sleep?” he whispered, looking up at her. Ruby’s tears stopped at the sound of his voice. She gripped the edge of the white crib and wobbled on her feet, staring at him with impossibly wide eyes. Hesitantly, she grabbed his finger with her tiny, chubby fingers and he couldn’t help but smile.
Beckett sat with her like this for fifteen minutes, hoping his presence would prevent her from crying. Thankfully, it did.
His eyes burned with the need for sleep, but every time he would begin to doze off, his entire body would jolt awake in a panic.
He opened his heavy eyelids to look at Ruby once again and saw that she was still wide awake.
Offering her a resigned smile, he picked her up and rocked her in his arms as he slipped out of Fiona’s room.
“We’re going to go for a little adventure,” he said, and Ruby let out a small, unintelligible squeal.
“Shh,” he laughed, bringing his free finger to his lips to hush her.
He held the back of her head in the palm of his hand as he walked through the house until he made his way to the main floor bedroom he had avoided for years.
Michael’s room.
He opened up the door
The decorators had stripped the forest green walls of their color, replacing it with a bland, ivory coat. They had also removed his bed, toys, and all other signs that a child had ever lived in this space.
He had planned on turning it into something else—a main floor office or a guest room, but nothing felt right.
Regardless, he doubted he would have ever used the room, no matter what it turned into.
There were too many memories here.
Yet, as he held Ruby in his arms and walked circles in the bedroom, it suddenly felt right to be back in the bedroom.
“You’re not so bad, are you?” he said to Ruby, watching the broad smile surface against her lips. “Are you? No.” He rocked her and slid his hand across the maple built-in bookcases on the far wall of Michael’s room.
He craned his neck back to get a better look at Ruby and saw that she was slowly drifting to sleep. Her heavy eyelids were winning the fight, and he knew he should bring her back up to her crib, but part of him wanted to stay with her just a few minutes longer.
Living with Ruby, even for one week, had been an absolute nightmare.
It had sent Beckett’s emotions careening forward and brought up feelings he had worked hard to bury. But looking at her now, everything had changed.
He held her close to his chest and watched her sleep. He listened to her little breaths through the room and started to imagine the walls decorated in purple frames and fairy lights.
Ruby’s room.
He hadn’t held a child since Michael’s death, and he had vowed to himself that he never wanted to again, but everything about this very moment felt so right.
Beckett felt overcome by tears. He clenched his jaw and blinked in rapid succession to wash them away. He couldn’t believe how right it suddenly felt to have Fiona and Ruby here with him.
“Hey,” came Fiona’s whisper as she stepped into the room.
“Hey, sorry,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“I’m sorry she’s so loud,” Fiona said bashfully. “She give you any trouble?”
“Ah, you know kids,” he teased. “They’re always talking back.”
Fiona laughed. “Yeah, for someone who can’t form proper words yet, she has a heck of a sass-mouth.”
Beckett smiled and looked down at the little girl in his arms. “She’s perfect, Sunshine.”
“I know,” she agreed.
“She still has that new baby smell,” he said, not wanting to give up the moment quite yet.
That new baby smell was something Lynne often spoke of. She said it calmed her and Beckett assumed Fiona probably felt the same way. It was an innocent scent of sweet milk and summer skin.
“You look pale,” he said, noting the way sweat beads had misted on her pale, freckled forehead.
“I’m fine,” she said, but that clearly wasn’t true. “Do you want me to take her?”
“No,” he finally admitted. “Not yet.”
And that was the night that his new tradition with Ruby began.
During the day, he would feed her and plan an activity for them to do that didn’t require too much energy on Fiona’s part. A family movie evening or a swim in the indoor pool.
He and Fiona would spend most days at the doctor’s or cuddled together on the couch wit
h Ruby in view as they read, listened to the water, or watched unsolved mysteries online.
Beckett would wake up every night around two in the morning and come to fetch her out of her crib to go for a walk with her. Sometimes he would take her down into Michael’s room, which he was slowly transforming into Ruby’s room.
Other nights he would bundle her up and take her for a walk down the beach.
The rest of his evenings were spent up late in his room, researching cardiomyopathy.
He now knew that the success rate of a heart transplant was around ninety percent. That the surgery itself lasts for approximately four hours and that Fiona would be hospitalized for more than two weeks afterward, though he fully intended on bringing her home after hiring the best doctor money could buy to stay with them during the healing process.
He also knew that the body could reject an organ and that there was a chance that one day Fiona would need another transplant to stay healthy.
Soon it was nine days since Ruby had become a part of Beckett’s new little family and he couldn’t be happier. Nights spent with her were like nights being brought back from the dead.
Fiona had been lethargic all week, but tonight she had more energy than usual and asked for Beckett to spend some time in her bedroom. He put Ruby down in her crib at the side of the bed, and the two talked until they heard her adorable little snores.
Fiona pulled her hair into a high pony-tail and peeked over the side of the bed to make sure Ruby was fast asleep. When she got her confirmation, she crawled next to Beckett so that they were both on their sides, facing each other.
She leaned in and kissed him intensely on lips, pulling the back of his head closer to her so they were almost impossible to separate.
“You are one of the most loving, caring men I have ever met,” she said as she pulled away from the kiss.
Beckett watched her, enamored, and ran his hand along her face as she spoke.
“Well shucks,” he teased.
“I’m serious,” she insisted just above a whisper. “What you’ve done for me…” she swallowed shakily and gestured toward the crib, “for both of us, is something I never would have imagined. You gave me a whole new life.”
