“Beck. Beck!”
Inhaling, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. Beck took a second to focus on Pete who had both hands on the arms of his chair and was looming over him.
“Shit,” Beck groaned and gave his friend a shove before scrubbing both hands through his hair. “Don’t lean in like that.”
“I wasn’t looking for a kiss, Sleeping Beauty,” Pete said and socked his shoulder as he backed off.
Beck didn’t want to be awake, didn’t want to face reality. But he was shocked that he’d fallen asleep. Yawning, he rubbed his face and then scanned his friends who were sitting around the two incubators that held his sons.
Both were going to be ok, or so he’d been told, but they were still classified as premature and the littlest guy needed some help with his breathing, so they’d be keeping a close eye on him.
“Why’d you wake me up?” Beck asked. “Any word on Jaycee?”
He was terrified to ask after the dream he’d just had because it felt like tempting fate. In the dream she’d said goodbye, made him promise to stay and look after their boys. If he found out now that she had left him for real, he might start questioning his views on the afterlife.
“She’s out of surgery. They didn’t have to do the hysterectomy,” Pete said, going to his chair on the other side of the boys. “They took her up to intensive care.”
Pushing up, Beck got to his feet. “I should go be with her.”
From his position in the adjacent chair, Pine caught his arm. “The doctors want to talk to you about the boys.”
“What’s wrong with them?” he asked, frowning as he looked at each of the little guys.
“Nothing,” Pine said. “They just want to talk about care and development.”
From the early morning delivery to the panic of Jaycee’s surgery and then the transfer of the boys, Beck had watched the activity levels pick up around the hospital. The day shift was on now, which meant the top-tier staff were in, he should take advantage of the advice while he could, and he should call Doctor Nicks too.
“They won’t let anyone see Jaycee anyway,” Pete said. “We already asked.”
If she was just out of surgery, then the chances were that she was still unconscious anyway. But he’d feel so much better if he could see her, even if it was just through glass. “I have to talk to her doctors too,” he said. “She’ll need someone to take care of her after this.”
When he saw his friends exchanging looks, Beck started to get riled again. Damn. They should’ve let him sleep; he was too tired to hold onto his patience. “The contract is over,” Pine said.
Whipping around, Beck couldn’t believe that his lawyer, no, his friend, could be that callous. “What the hell, Pine?”
“I know, she’s been through hell, we didn’t expect any of this. But I’m letting you know, your contractual obligation to take care of her is over… And her obligation to you is over too.”
“You think I should cut her loose? That I should just say fuck her and forget she exists now that I have the boys?”
Pine shrugged, and seemed to be doing everything he could to avoid meeting his friend’s eye. Beck knew the boys were amazing, but Pine had never been that into babies, so there was no reason for him to be so fixated on them. “You have to cover the medical costs of everything connected with the labor and her procedure, even if that wasn’t in the contract I’d tell you to do it. And you’re still paying Mavis’ costs; that will go on for as long as she needs it. But as far as the contract goes…”
“Why are you being a dick about this?” Beck asked, punching Pine’s arm. “I thought you liked Jaycee.”
“I do,” Pine objected. “I love Jaycee!” Not as much as he did, but Beck couldn’t say that out loud. “I love her, but… I have to warn you. I have to tell you the truth. She’s free now. You both are.”
This wasn’t about them telling him to let go of her. His friends were making him confront the truth that Jaycee might want to let go of him. “You think she’ll be pissed? That she’ll blame me for…”
Almost killing her. Yeah, he blamed himself too. Sinking back into his chair, he let his head fall into his hands. He’d made a promise in that dream to let her go, to let her live her life without him dragging her down.
Jaycee had made it out of surgery alive, now he had to hold up his end of the deal.
“Maybe just, you know, wait ‘til she wakes up and ask the staff if she wants to see you,” Pine said. “Give her a bit of space.”
“The woman almost died,” Snick said. “She almost died…”
Beck understood that his friend was shocked, they all were, but he didn’t need to be reminded of that fact, it wasn’t one he was likely to ever forget. If Jaycee blamed him and he went up there, he could make her condition worse by upsetting her.
On the other hand, if she was scared, he didn’t want her to be alone. Waking up after surgery, unaware of what had happened, anyone would be terrified. Beck wanted to make sure Jaycee knew she hadn’t been abandoned, that he’d been looking out for her.
“Ok,” he said. “We’ll tell them to call us when she wakes up and ask them to check with her if I can go to her. As soon as she wants to see me, I’m going up there and I don’t want to hear objections from any of you pricks. I don’t give a damn about the contract. If my muse needs me, I’m going to be there for her.”
And if she didn’t…
Beck didn’t want to think about how his life would look without Jaycee in it. But he had no choice. Pine was right, the contract was done. The boys were here, Jaycee was free, and it was a freedom Beck had to respect even if he resented the hell out of it.
Beck hadn’t come to her.
Jaycee hadn’t really expected he’d be at her bedside when she woke up, but she’d been so dazed it did take her a while to remember her own identity. Odd thing was, she remembered her maestro before she remembered herself. Thank God, she’d been alone when she opened her eyes and said his name… his real name.
But that had been six days ago.
Staff had come in to attend to her after she’d woken up and they’d told her about what had happened. She’d almost died… for the boys… for Beck. It was weird, but the shock of her trauma lessened when she realized what she could’ve lost her life for. There wasn’t anything on earth worthier than the lives of those boys; she’d have given up her life for any of them any time.
The nurses who cared for her told her that Guy wanted to see her, that he was waiting for her call. Every day they came in and said he’d called to check on her. But he hadn’t come.
That was fine.
As confused as the nurses were by her assertions that she didn’t want him to visit, Jaycee was secure in her choice. Beck had his future ahead of him and she wasn’t a part of it. That he was concerned about her was sweet and understandable, but their contract was finished, she was no longer pregnant with his children.
The doctor had been in to assess her that morning and advised that she would be discharged that afternoon. Thank goodness she was getting out of here. Another day in this bland, boring hospital might drive her nuts.
The nurse had come in a few minutes ago and told her the doctor would be here to discharge her as soon as he was finished with his rounds. So, this was it. The end. Jaycee had asked the nurse to call down to the special care nursery, where the boys had been moved to, and to pass on a message to Beck, who they knew as Guy, that she’d like to see him, if he had a minute.
Jaycee had predicted a long, tense wait. She expected to jump every time she heard a noise, in anticipation of him showing up. But she didn’t get a chance to be anxious because he arrived less than ten minutes after she’d told the nurse she wanted to see him.
Her room door opened, but she couldn’t see it because of the way the curtain was pulled around her bed. When he ducked around the end of the curtain, she was reminded of him on the day she’d got pregnant. He’d poked his head around the curtain in Doctor Nicks’ office in much the same way.
“Wow, that was quick,” she said before he could say a word.
“The elevator was packed. I got impatient, so I skipped out to take the stairs, or I’d have been here sooner.”
As he came over, he reached out, but she curled her fingers into her palm and drew her hands back.
His ease became a frown and he dropped his hand. “Sit down,” she said, nodding at the crappy plastic chair next to her bed.
She felt bad offering him such a pathetic seat, but it wasn’t like anyone else had been to visit her, so she didn’t need anything better.
“You look good,” he said as he lowered into the chair. “The doctor says you’ll be good as new in no time… How do you feel?”
“Weird,” she said because there had been so many thoughts in her head this week that she still couldn’t piece them together. “Did you get the milk? I’ve been expressing every day. The nurse helped me, she said it would help the boys.”
“Yeah,” he said, and his smile was so warm. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Why did she feel so awkward? This was just… horrible. She shouldn’t have asked to see him. For some reason, she’d thought she had no choice. He’d called the nurses to ask to visit every day and she’d always assumed that she would say yes before she left. Now she wished she’d just slipped away without facing him again.
“I didn’t know if it was appropriate,” she said. “I told the nurse that I wouldn’t be offended if you didn’t want it.”
“Are you kidding? The boys love it,” he said and tried to take her hand again. When she recoiled, he diverted his hand to rub it down the back of his head. “Gogh especially, he’s the little one, he’s not taking to the formula so well and he needs to put on some weight before they’ll let him out of here.”
“Go?” she asked, warring with her emotions. She hadn’t known if she wanted to know their names, but now that she did it felt like a circle of wire squeezed around her heart.
“Yeah,” he said, bobbing his head and straightening out the blanket hanging over the edge of her bed. “It’s G-O-G-H, but we just call him Go.”
“Van,” she said, and a grin burst to her face as she figured it out. “You called the other one Van.”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes lighting as they met hers. “Do you hate it?”
“I love it,” she said and didn’t realize her hand had moved until she saw it there on his face.
Oh no, why did she do that? Beck tipped his mouth toward her palm and kissed it as he closed his own hand over the back of hers. “I was so worried about you, Muse… Why have you been keeping me away?”
“You weren’t here,” she murmured. Now that her hand was there on his flesh, she couldn’t tear it away.
“I wanted to be, Muse,” he said, moving his head to rasp his stubble against her. “Goddamnit, I’ve wanted to be with you so bad.”
The shivers of awareness and love zipped up her arm and down to her belly. She’d missed him so much. She’d thought she could handle this, handle seeing him, but… she couldn’t. “Beck,” she whispered and slid her hand out from under his. “We can’t.”
When he didn’t speak, she tried to read his expression, but hated the expectation shrouded beneath his disappointment.
Glancing to the side, he saw the closed pad on her nightstand. “You’ve been drawing?”
He reached for the pad, but she slapped a hand down on top of it to prevent him from picking it up. “Writing,” she said, scared to meet his eyes because usually they shared everything, especially anything creative they produced. Stopping him was just… wrong and it would break his heart. “It’s just… thoughts… I’ve been alone this week.”
“You don’t have to be alone,” he said. When the hope in his voice touched her ears, she closed her eyes and a tear slid down her cheek. “Jaycee, Muse—”
“I’m not your muse,” she snapped. Why the hell did he have to do this? Why did he have to make it so difficult? “It’s over; don’t you understand that it’s over?”
For a second he really looked like he didn’t, but as his brow lowered, she recognized his anger. “You’re free.”
“That’s right,” she said and hated that she sounded pissed when he just came across as resigned. “I’m free and you have everything you’ve ever wanted.”
He tipped his chin down and away like he was too disgusted to even look at her. “Why did you call me up here?”
Biting her lip, the movement of her chin told of the looming threat of her upset. “I don’t know,” Jaycee said, her voice cracking to a whisper. “I… I don’t know, Beck. I just… had to look at you one last time.”
When his attention slid back to her, she hated that his last image of her would be one of upset and turmoil. They were free. But this was the day they’d both dreaded.
“Tell me what you want,” he said. “Do you want me to fight for you? Do you want me to walk out of here and never look back?”
She’d said that she’d be his until delivery and that may be physically true. But Jaycee was still his and after spending the better part of a year with him, she couldn’t remember who she was without Beckett Trent.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” she whispered.
“And if you don’t break free now, you’ll lose yourself forever.”
Like he could read her thoughts, he recited them to her. Jaycee didn’t want to be free of him, she liked who she was with him, and she’d always crave his attention. A desperation to grab him and hold on pulsed through her veins with every breath she took.
“We did it,” she said. “I mean, we made it through.”
“Just,” he said. “I’m sorry for… I don’t know what I’d have done if I lost you… I know I’m losing you anyway, but… I need to know you’re out there. I need to know that you’re happy. Promise me you’ll find your happy, Jaycee Kirk.”
It was one thing to know they were over; it was a different thing to hear him untying her binds and setting her free. But even without his chains, she couldn’t move, she didn’t want to. The only happy she’d ever have in her life were the months she’d spent under his pencil, nothing would ever compare to how she felt under his scrutiny.
“You love those precious boys enough for both of us.”
There wasn’t really anything else to say, but when he stood up, she gasped.
Yeah, they might see each other around, she really had no clue where her life was going to go now, but this was a terrifying end, there was no denying that.
Beck had everything mapped out; he had his whole life sketched now because it would revolve around those beautiful babies.
But she had nothing.
Nowhere to go.
No commitments.
Jaycee was free, yet she’d never felt more oppressed.
He opened his hand as if he was going to reach for hers again, but he hesitated by curling his fingers. Much as it had been unintentional, Jaycee had already touched him, so it seemed silly to resist now.
Offering her hand, she waited for him to take it. “Thank you, Jaycee,” he said and bowed to kiss her knuckles, in the longest, slowest, most intimate kiss they’d ever shared.
When he turned away, she couldn’t bear to see the determination in his step. He was really going. This was the end, but she wasn’t ready. “Maestro,” she called out in a pathetic but desperate whimper.
He stopped just at the edge of the curtain and with his back still to her, he turned his chin a fraction toward her. “You’ll always be my muse, girl,” he murmured. “Wait for hope to catch the light, just ‘cause you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”
With a single step forward, he moved out of her view and then the door closed, and he was gone.
Jaycee was alone.
Free.
The world was her oyster; she could go anywhere she wanted to and do anything.
Grabbing her pillow, she buried her face in it and screamed aloud.
That was it. The last time she would let herself feel for Beckett Trent. She’d done her duty and now he would do his.
Their affair would never be known to the world.
It was classified.
Their love was such a closely-held secret that no one would ever know it existed. No one except them and that was their final link. Their secret. Their love. The connection that could never be fully erased as long as their boys graced the earth. The twins might not have been conceived in love, but they’d been birthed in it.
Beck was grateful to her for giving their children life and she was grateful to him for teaching her how to experience it.
Their journey hadn’t gone the way they’d planned it, but Jaycee wouldn’t change a thing about it, even if it meant living the rest of her life with the heartache that came with losing her love, her one and only, her maestro.