All Chapters of The Billionaire Ex's Secret Baby: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Noah POVTracy found me in the kitchen at six the next morning, standing over the coffee maker with the cream-colored card in my hand. I had read it so many times that I could have recited it in my sleep.“You’ve been up a while,” she said.“Not long.” That was a lie, and she raised an eyebrow, so I corrected myself. “Two hours.”She laughed, took the card out of my fingers, and set it face-down on the counter. Then she poured two cups of coffee and sat down at the island, patting the stool beside her. I sat. For a minute, we only drank and listened to the city waking up outside the windows.“I keep wanting to send ten men to Alder Park tonight,” I admitted. “Check every bench, every tree, every garbage can. Have them standing around the carousel before anyone arrives.”“I know you do.”“I didn’t send them. I wanted you to know that. I just wanted to say it out loud.”She smiled at me over the rim of her mug. “That’s the most romantic thing you’ve said all week.”“I’m improving.”“You

Noah POVFor a few seconds nobody moved. Elias stood in front of Tracy with his rabbit hanging from one hand, waiting for her to say something, and I stood beside her with my heart pounding against my ribs. I could see how hard she was working to keep her face calm. Her eyes were bright, and her hand had gone to her throat, but when she spoke, her voice was warm and steady.“Thank you for telling me, Elias. That’s a very good memory to share.”“Is it wrong that I know it?” he asked.“Not at all. I think it’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever told me.”He let out a small breath and smiled, and I felt something in my chest give way. Before I could say anything, Samuel came running across the platform with his backpack bouncing.“What song? Is it Mom’s song?” He stopped beside Elias and tilted his head. “Hum it again.”Elias hummed it, a little shyly, and Samuel’s eyes went wide. Then he joined in, and the two of them hummed together, each one a half-beat off from the other, until

Noah POVI stood in the hallway for a long time after the humming faded. Tracy waited beside me without asking questions, and when Samuel’s breathing finally slowed into the soft rhythm of sleep, she slipped her hand into mine and drew me back toward the bedroom. I let her lead me. My mind was somewhere else entirely, in a warm, dim room with a woman who smelled of lavender and old paper.“Do you want to wake him?” she asked quietly. “Ask where he learned it?”“I want to,” I said. “Very badly. I want to shake the whole answer out of the night.”“But?”“But he’s five, and he’s asleep, and he did nothing wrong.” I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hand. “I’ll ask him in the morning. Gently. Over breakfast, like a normal father.”She smiled at me in the dark. “That sounds like growth.”“It sounds like a man who is too tired to be bossy.”“I’ll take it either way,” she said, and she kissed my shoulder and pulled the blanket up over both of us.Samuel was in a wonderful mood at breakfast.

Noah POVTracy didn’t wake me gently. She sat on the edge of the bed in my shirt with the music box in both hands and said my name three times before I opened my eyes. The room was dark, and the clock said ten past midnight. When I saw her face, I sat up at once.“Nothing is wrong,” she said quickly. “I promise. But you need to see this, and I didn’t want to wait until morning.”She held out a small yellowed square of paper. I unfolded it under the lamp, and the first thing I recognized was the handwriting. My grandmother wrote in loops that leaned to the right, as if every letter were trying to hurry to the next one. I read the page of music first, then the note beneath it. When I reached the last line, I had to stop and read it again.She has been waiting a very long time to be thanked.We went to the kitchen so we wouldn’t wake Samuel. Tracy put the kettle on while I sat at the island with the note flat in front of me, and neither of us said anything until she set a mug at my elbow

Noah POVI woke before the alarm on Sunday morning and found myself looking at the dresser. The music box sat where I had left it, lid closed, with the cream-colored envelope hidden inside. I had not slept badly. I had simply spent the early hours imagining every sentence my grandmother might have written, and none of them had been calming.“You’re staring at it,” Tracy said, without opening her eyes.“I’m not.”“You’ve been staring for ten minutes. I can feel it. It’s like sleeping next to a very polite lighthouse.”I laughed and rolled toward her. “I’m only looking.”“We said Sunday evening.”“I know. I’m being patient.”“That’s patience?” She cracked one eye open. “You look like a dog watching a sandwich.”“A very well-trained dog.”She pulled the blanket over her head, laughing, and I kissed the top of the lump she made. Then I got up and went to make breakfast, partly because I had promised pancakes and partly because the kitchen was the one room where I couldn’t see the dresser.