Chapter 13 - THE WOMAN WHO RAN TWICE
Z
Three months passed.
Celeste grew.
Her lungs became stronger.
The hospital visits became less frequent.
Beckett learned how to change diapers in the back seat of a Maybach.
He learned that babies did not care about conference calls.
He learned that a white dress shirt and infant formula were natural enemies.
Valiant Holdings survived.
So did his reputation.
Violet moved back into her apartment once the photographers disappeared.
Beckett didn't argue.
He visited almost every day.
Sometimes for an hour.
Sometimes until midnight.
Never without asking.
They created a rhythm.
Tuesday pediatric appointments.
Thursday dinners.
Saturday mornings in Central Park.
No romance.
At least that was what Violet called it.
Then one Saturday, Celeste laughed for the first time.
Beckett was making ridiculous noises with a stuffed giraffe.
A bright little giggle filled the room.
Both parents froze.
"Did she just laugh?"
Violet grabbed her phone.
"Do it again."
"I don't know what I did."
"You made that noise."
"What noise?"
"The stupid one."
"I make several."
"Beckett."
He tried.
Nothing.
Again.
Celeste laughed.
Violet laughed too.
Beckett looked at them both.
And something in his expression terrified her.
Love.
Not guilt.
Not obligation.
Love.
That night, Violet packed a suitcase.
Not because Beckett had done anything wrong.
Because he hadn't.
That was worse.
She had spent months preparing herself for the moment he became bored with fatherhood.
It never came.
He missed meetings instead of missing Celeste's appointments.
He installed a car seat himself after refusing to trust the chauffeur.
He learned lullabies.
Badly.
He called every evening when traveling.
And Violet had begun falling in love with him again.
She hated how easy it felt.
So she ran.
Again.
Not far.
Boston.
Her sister lived there.
Violet planned to spend two weeks thinking.
She left Beckett a note.
This time, she left one.
I need space. Celeste is with me. She is safe. Please don't follow us.
Beckett found it at seven the next morning.
His security director waited.
"Do you want her location?"
Beckett stared at the note.
Every instinct screamed yes.
Find them.
Send a plane.
Fix it.
Instead he said, "No."
The director blinked.
"Sir?"
"She asked me not to follow."
"Do you want security monitoring remotely?"
Beckett closed his eyes.
"Only if she requests it."
Then he did the hardest thing he had ever done.
Nothing.
For forty-eight hours.
Violet expected calls.
None came.
She expected lawyers.
None.
She expected his plane at Logan Airport.
Nothing.
On the third day, her phone rang.
Beckett.
She answered.
"Hi."
"Hi."
Silence.
"How is Celeste?"
"Good."
"Sleeping?"
"Badly."
"Tell her I respect her consistency."
Violet smiled.
"Beckett."
"I won't ask where you are."
"You probably know."
"I don't."
That shocked her.
"I told my team not to track you."
"Why?"
"Because you asked me not to."
Simple.
Painful.
"I miss her."
His voice cracked slightly.
"I miss you too."
Violet closed her eyes.
"That's why I left."
"I know."
"No, you don't."
"Then tell me."
She walked onto her sister's balcony.
"I love you."
Silence.
Beckett didn't speak.
"Beckett?"
"I'm here."
His voice had changed.
"I love you," Violet repeated. "And that scares me more now than before."
"Why?"
"Because now Celeste can get hurt too."
"By me?"
"By us."
Beckett breathed slowly.
"What do you want me to do?"
She almost laughed.
The old Beckett never asked that.
"I don't know."
"Okay."
"No strategy?"
"I have several."
"Of course."
"But none matter if you don't want them."
Violet looked at the city lights.
"I need to know you're not building this family because you're terrified of losing her."
Beckett remained quiet.
Then he said, "You're right."
Her stomach dropped.
"What?"
"I started because I was terrified."
She closed her eyes.
"But that's not why I'm still here."
Violet stopped breathing.
"I'm here because I like 4:00 a.m. bottles when she falls asleep on my chest."
His voice softened.
"I'm here because you laugh when I'm covered in spit-up."
Violet cried silently.
"I'm here because your apartment smells like baby detergent and terrible coffee."
"My coffee is fine."
"It's criminal."
She laughed through tears.
"And I'm here," Beckett finished, "because the best parts of my life are no longer the parts I control."
Silence.
Violet wiped her face.
"When can you come to Boston?"
Beckett didn't answer immediately.
She smiled.
"You know where I am now."
"Yes."
"Tomorrow?"
"I have a board meeting."
May you like
Her heart sank.
Then he added, "So I'll be there tonight."
