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Chapter 11: The Mother

Author: Yurivale
last update publish date: 2026-10-03 20:25:30

Lucien's mother was not what Milo expected.

He expected a cold billionaire mother. Blonde, perfect, mean.

Eleanor Beaumont was 58, short, wore sneakers to a lunch meeting, and hugged Milo before he could even bow.

"You must be Milo!" she said, grabbing his freckled cheeks. "Lucien never brings anyone home! I thought he was going to die alone with his spreadsheets!"

Milo was frozen. He was wearing his best hoodie. He had covered his lip piercing with a little band-aid because Lucien said "my mother is traditional." He had tried to look normal.

Lucien was standing behind him, looking terrified. "Mother, please—"

"Oh, let me look at you!" Eleanor held Milo at arm's length. "Freckles! My god, you're adorable. And those eyes! Lucien, you didn't tell me he was adorable."

Milo blushed to his ears. "Thank you, Mrs. Beaumont..."

"Eleanor. Call me Eleanor. Or Mom. You can call me Mom if you want, I don't mind."

Milo choked. Lucien choked harder.

They went to lunch at Eleanor's favorite diner. Not a fancy place. A diner with pancakes.

Eleanor ordered for everyone and then looked straight at Milo.

"So," she said. "Lena told me you threw wine on someone."

Milo wanted to die. "I—"

"I LOVE IT," Eleanor said, slamming her hand on the table. "Finally! Someone with some fight! Do you know what Lucien's exes were like? Boring! They all wanted his money and they all let him work 20 hours a day. No one ever told him 'no.' No one ever told him 'come home.'"

Milo stared.

Eleanor leaned in. "Lena told me you delete his contacts and make him come home at 6 PM. Is that true?"

Milo nodded slowly, scared.

"Good!" Eleanor said. "He needs that. He has had no one to tell him no since his father died. He thinks he has to own the whole world to be safe. But he just needs someone to own HIM. Right?"

Milo's eyes filled up. No one had ever said it like that before. Like his crazy was good.

"Right," he whispered.

Lucien was watching them, his cold CEO mask completely gone. He looked like a boy watching his two favorite people meet.

Eleanor reached over and took Milo's hand, black nails and all. He had taken the band-aid off his lip piercing because she said she loved it.

"My son is not easy," Eleanor said softly. "He works too much. He feels too little. He will forget to eat if you don't tell him. He will forget he is human if you don't remind him. Can you do that?"

Milo nodded, tears falling now. "I can. I will. I love reminding him he's mine."

"I know you do, honey," Eleanor said. "I can see it. You look at him like he's the only person in the room. He's been waiting for someone to look at him like that for 32 years."

After lunch, Eleanor hugged Milo again and whispered in his ear, "You have my permission to be as possessive as you want. He needs it. And if he ever makes you cry at 3 AM again, you call me. I will fly here and hit him with a pancake."

Milo laughed through tears. "Okay, Mom."

On the car ride home, Milo was quiet, holding Eleanor's little diner napkin that said "Welcome to the Family!" that she had written and drawn a heart on.

Lucien looked at him. "You called her Mom."

"She told me to," Milo said.

"Do you want to call her Mom?"

Milo nodded, clutching the napkin. "She liked me. She didn't think I was too much."

"You are not too much," Lucien said, pulling over. Right there on 5th Avenue, he pulled over and kissed Milo in the front seat. "You are just enough. You are exactly what my family needed."

Milo kissed him back, lip piercing cold against Lucien's mouth.

"Take me home," Milo said. "I want to put this napkin on our fridge."

"Our fridge," Lucien repeated. Like it was the best word he had ever heard.

"Our fridge. Because I'm yours and you're mine and your mom said so."

"She did," Lucien said, driving home, hand in Milo's hand, black nails intertwined.

That night, Milo put the napkin on the fridge with a magnet that said BEAUMONT CORP. And he finally felt like he wasn't just a boy Lucien picked up in the rain.

He was family.

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