No. This goddamn doom-and-gloom was nothing but cowardice dressed up as nobility. Fuck that.
He surged to his feet. He wasn’t giving up without a fight.
Maybe he’d never really overcome this gutting terror. Maybe he just needed to find his balls, spit in fear’s face, and get the fuck on with his life.
But what would he tell his mother? She knew about Heavenly…but he hadn’t dared to whisper a word about Beck. How the hell would the three of them attend her wedding in New York in less than a month? Grace Cooper would faint if she figured out that he shared Heavenly with the good doctor. He couldn’t see her ever approving. But he also couldn’t see her ever turning her back on him. And a grandchild? She’d be over the moon, no matter the circumstances.
Mom’s disapproval was an issue…but not the one that kept him from committing. That stumbling block was all in his head.
How was he going to get past all the fucking loss he’d endured? Almost no one could comprehend what he was going through.
But there was one person…
Beck’s younger brother, Zach, who was staying in his old apartment should be drowning in grief. His wife and daughter had been brutally murdered five months ago. By all rights, the guy should be falling apart, struggling against the past threatening to swallow him whole.
Instead, Zach was already beginning to move on—and actually starting to live.
How?
Seth heaved a sigh. He didn’t know, but if he was going to take this leap, he needed to do it right. Not as a reaction. Not because Beck had cornered him. Not even because Heavenly deserved his all, though she did.
He needed to do it because he was choosing their future over his fear. Eyes open. No half measures.
And if he couldn’t, he needed to get the fuck out.
Seth took the stairs two at a time, his heart hammering against his ribs. Before he even reached the bedroom, he heard Heavenly’s muffled sobs. Through the crack in the door, Seth could see them: Beck reclined against the headboard, Heavenly curled up against him, her shoulders shaking as he stroked her pale halo of curls.
The sight was like a knife between his ribs. He’d done that. He’d put her pain there.
Seth eased the door open. The pair turned. Their eyes locked on him—one set blue and desolate, the other dark and angry.
“Give me an hour.” Somehow, his voice sounded steady, despite the earthquake rumbling through his chest. “Please.”
Heavenly sat up, wiping tears from her cheeks and faced him with more of that heart-rending disappointment. “An hour to what, Seth? To decide if you want me forever? If I’m worth it?”
“What the fuck will an hour change?” Beck’s voice sounded low, dangerous. The quiet before the storm.
Seth swallowed hard as he looked at them both, willing them to understand. “It would be easy to say yes and fuck the consequences, but I want to be sure. Not just go along to get along. I want—” He sighed. “No, I need to deserve you two.”
They exchanged a silent glance. A wordless judgment. Their hesitation pierced his chest like a blade. But he’d earned that.
Finally, Beck looked at his watch, his expression cold and decisive. “One hour. The clock is ticking. If you’re not back by then, we’re starting the future without you.”
Each word was like a hammer sealing shut the nails of his coffin.
Seth’s stomach dropped, but he nodded. “Understood.”
Beck tightened his arm around Heavenly’s shoulders and focused on her upturned face, pleading for comfort. Seth hated that he couldn’t give it to her now.
“C’mon, little girl. I’ll run you a bath,” the surgeon murmured.
Seth watched as Beck gathered Heavenly in his arms, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Even now, with everything falling apart, the tenderness of the gesture twisted Seth’s gut.
Beck carried her toward the en suite, shouldering past Seth without a glance and kicking the door closed behind them. The sound of running water followed, then murmured voices too low to hear.
Seth’s temporary reprieve was ticking down. He glanced at his watch. Fifty-eight minutes left to fight his way out of this mental prison he’d walled himself in eight years ago. Fifty-eight minutes to save the bonds that mattered most. Fifty-eight minutes before his future started without him.
As he bolted down the stairs, he jerked his keys from his pocket, then slammed the front door behind him. His SUV roared to life, tires squealing as he tore from the driveway.
