Chapter 7 - The Billionaire Who Had to Earn His Family Back
The decision came three months later.
Morgan Global announced the largest acquisition in its history.
A European hotel group valued at more than four billion dollars.
Financial reporters celebrated.
Markets reacted.
Business networks predicted Lucas would spend most of the following year overseas.
I tried not to care.
I failed.
We had been rebuilding something.
Not a romance.
Not officially.
But trust.
The twins had started calling Lucas “Dad.”
He attended school events.
He learned their teachers' names.
He knew Noah needed fifteen minutes alone after getting angry.
He knew Lily pretended not to care about praise while secretly remembering every compliment.
He was becoming their father.
Then the acquisition appeared.
History seemed ready to repeat itself.
Lucas.
Morgan Global.
An international expansion.
And family expected to wait.
I found out from the news.
That hurt most.
A reporter stood outside Morgan Tower talking about Lucas's “likely twelve-month relocation to London.”
I turned off the television.
Hours later, Lucas called.
“I need to tell you something.”
“I already saw.”
Silence.
“Nia.”
“Congratulations.”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Use that polite voice.”
“What voice should I use?”
“I haven't agreed to relocate.”
I froze.
“The reporters said—”
“The board expects me to.”
“And?”
“And I said no.”
I didn't understand.
“This deal requires executive oversight.”
“Yes.”
“Then how?”
“I hired someone capable of doing it.”
“Lucas, this is the biggest acquisition of your career.”
“No.”
“What?”
He spoke quietly.
“Noah learning to swim was bigger.”
My throat tightened.
“Lily calling me because she had a nightmare was bigger.”
“Lucas—”
“My children are seven. I already missed seven years.”
His voice broke slightly.
“I am not voluntarily missing another.”
I sat down.
“The board is okay with that?”
“No.”
Despite myself, I smiled.
“What did they say?”
“Several things unsuitable for children.”
“And you?”
“I told them Morgan Global employs eighty thousand people. If the company collapses because its CEO lives in Chicago, then I've built the wrong company.”
That sentence changed something inside me.
Years earlier, Lucas had let work become an excuse for everything.
Now, with billions on the line, he was choosing differently.
Not because I demanded it.
I hadn't even known about the decision.
He chose family when nobody was watching.
That was the proof I needed.
But trust doesn't return in one dramatic moment.
It returns in dozens.
Lucas began coming over for dinner once a week.
At first, it was for the twins.
Eventually, he stayed afterward.
We talked.
Really talked.
About the years apart.
About Evelyn.
About guilt.
About loneliness.
About how badly we had both handled fear.
Evelyn surprised me.
One afternoon, she asked to meet.
We chose a café.
I expected anger.
Instead, she said, “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
“For blaming you in the restaurant.”
“You'd just discovered your husband's ex-wife had his children.”
She smiled sadly.
“I wasn't exactly rational.”
“Neither was anyone.”
She stirred her coffee.
“Lucas and I are divorcing.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.”
She looked at me directly.
“We weren't unhappy enough to leave. We weren't happy enough to stay.”
I understood that sentence too well.
“Are you angry with him?”
“Sometimes.”
“About us?”
“About many things.”
Then she smiled.
“But not the children.”
I relaxed slightly.
Evelyn continued.
“I watched him with them once.”
“When?”
“Through the window at his house. Noah was making him chase some ridiculous ball across the lawn.”
I laughed.
“Probably soccer.”
“Lucas was terrible.”
“He is.”
She looked down.
“I realized I'd never seen him that happy.”
I didn't know what to say.
Evelyn reached across the table and touched my hand.
“Whatever happens between you two, don't let guilt decide it.”
That advice stayed with me.
Because guilt was exactly what I feared.
Did I want Lucas because we shared children?
Because I missed the past?
Because I wanted to repair what had been stolen?
Or because I still loved the man he had become?
I found my answer one rainy evening.
Noah developed appendicitis.
The pain started after dinner.
Within an hour, we were in the emergency room.
I called Lucas from the car.
He arrived before the surgeon.
No assistant.
No entourage.
No jacket.
His shirt was soaked from the rain.
He sat beside Noah's bed.
“Am I going to die?” Noah asked.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because the doctors are going to fix this.”
“What if they mess up?”
Lucas looked at the surgeon.
The surgeon looked terrified.
I almost laughed.
Lucas leaned closer.
“Then your mom and I will be right here.”
Your mom and I.
Not I.
Not my people.
Not the best doctors money can buy.
Us.
Noah went into surgery.
Lucas and I waited.
Two hours.
He never checked his phone.
Not once.
At three in the morning, the surgeon came out smiling.
“Everything went perfectly.”
My knees weakened.
Lucas caught me.
And suddenly I was against his chest.
His arms went around me.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
I heard his heartbeat.
The same heartbeat I had once fallen asleep against.
“Nia,” he whispered.
I pulled back.
He immediately released me.
No pressure.
No assumption.
That mattered.
Noah recovered quickly.
A week later, Lucas came over with soup.
After the children fell asleep, we stood on the porch.
“Thank you,” I said.
“For soup?”
“For being there.”
“There's nowhere else I would have been.”
I looked at him.
Rain had left the street shining beneath the lamps.
For a strange second, we were young again.
Not billionaire and ex-wife.
Not parents carrying years of damage.
Just Lucas and Nia.
“I was afraid to tell you I was pregnant,” I said.
He nodded.
“I know.”
“I convinced myself I was protecting them.”
“You were protecting yourself too.”
“Yes.”
“You had the right to be afraid of me.”
“I didn't have the right to decide everything alone.”
Lucas didn't rescue me from responsibility.
“I wish you'd told me.”
“I know.”
“But I understand why you didn't.”
That was what healing sounded like.
Truth without punishment.
I stepped closer.
“Lucas.”
“Yes?”
“If we ever try again…”
His entire body became still.
I continued.
“It can't be because of Noah and Lily.”
“It won't.”
“It can't be because Victor stole something from us.”
“It won't.”
“It can't be because you're lonely.”
“I know.”
“It has to be new.”
Lucas's eyes never left mine.
“Then we'll start new.”
“No penthouse promises.”
A small smile.
“No.”
“No press.”
“No.”
“No expensive grand gestures.”
He hesitated.
“How expensive?”
“Lucas.”
“Fine.”
I laughed.
He smiled.
Then he became serious.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yes.”
“Can I take you to dinner?”
I stared at him.
“Like a date?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere without photographers.”
“That eliminates half Chicago.”
“I'll find somewhere.”
I let him wait.
Then I said, “One dinner.”
His smile made him look twenty-five again.
“One dinner.”
Our first second-first date happened at a tiny neighborhood Italian restaurant.
No private room.
No security beside the table.
No champagne waiting.
Lucas wore a sweater.
I wore jeans.
We talked for three hours.
At the end, he walked me home.
At my door, he didn't kiss me.
“Goodnight, Nia.”
“Goodnight.”
He turned away.
“Lucas.”
He looked back.
I walked toward him.
And kissed him.
Softly.
Briefly.
Nothing like the desperate reunions from movies.
It was better.
Because there was no promise hidden inside it.
Only possibility.
Lucas touched his forehead to mine.
“I have wanted to do that since Moretti.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“You stare.”
He laughed.
Then Lily's face suddenly appeared in the window.
She screamed.
“MOM KISSED DAD!”
Noah appeared beside her.
“WHAT?”
Lucas started laughing.
I covered my face.
Within seconds, both children opened the door.
“Are you getting married?” Lily demanded.
“No,” I said immediately.
Lucas nodded.
“Definitely not tonight.”
Noah narrowed his eyes.
“Why did you say tonight?”
I stared at Lucas.
He tried to look innocent.
He failed.
Months later, I would discover exactly why he'd said it.
Because Lucas Morgan had already made another decision.
Not about companies.
Not about money.
About us.
May you like
But before he asked me the question that would change our family, he did something more important.
He gave me a choice.
