Billionaire's Forgotten Heir

"I'm sorry, miss, but there's not much we can do. Medical advancements are being made, but he's still too little for a surgery that advanced." The words hit me a slow, sinking weight spreading in my chest. I had known this was a possibility. In fact I had expected it. I sighed, glancing around the small, sterile office. This was a small town, there were limits to what they could do. The doctor watched me carefully before continuing, "You'll have to bring him in frequently for check-ups." She offered a small, sympathetic smile, one that I barely had the energy to return. In and out of hospitals, for the next several years. A future filled with waiting rooms, prescriptions, and cautious monitoring. It wasn’t fair to him. "But," another voice cut through the heavy silence. The specialist, who had been quiet until now, studied me with a thoughtful gaze. "There is a doctor who specializes in cases like this." My eyes snapped up. "Who?" I asked eagerly. "Dr. William Jenkins of Clarton medical center, the one in Hart city.“ He explained. "Hart City?" I repeated my eyes widening slowly. Of all places? My heart begun to beat rapidly. "Yes," the doctor confirmed with a slow nod. "If anyone can perform this surgery with a high success rate, it’s him." There was something almost apologetic in his tone. "If that isn’t an option, you'll have to continue bringing him in regularly until he's older, when the procedure can be done here with less risk." I swallowed hard glancing at my son, who was completely oblivious to the conversation happening around him, happily playing with the small toys in the corner of the office. I exhaled slowly and forced my voice to remain steady. “Thank you doctor. I understand.“ I said standing to my feet. "Let's go, Cookie," I murmured, reaching for his tiny hand. We stood at the bus stop moments later, waiting for the bus to take us home. Were we really going to move back to that city? I sighed deeply, my gaze dropping to the top of my son’s head as he clung to my side. Moving back there—would we run into him? Mason’s father. Desmond. How was he now? I wondered. That year had ended as the worst year of my life. The words from that time echoed in my mind, as clear as if they had been spoken just moments ago, and I couldn’t shake them. “You’re just like her, your mother. What was I thinking getting involved with a bottom feeder nobody like you?” I shook my head, pushing the painful memory away, but it lingered like a shadow, darkening my thoughts. Then again, I wasn’t even sure he was the father. Too much had happened during that time—too many unanswered questions. I didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. The past didn’t matter. What mattered was Mason. He was my baby. And I was grateful, every single day, that he was mine. "Mama?" I looked down to see Mason staring up at me, his curls falling into his face. My heart clenched at the sight of his sweet, innocent face. Without a second thought, I squatted down to his height and gently brushed the curls from his forehead. He was mine. All mine. Nothing else mattered. We didn’t need anyone else. "Yes, baby?" I asked softly, my voice full of warmth as I looked into his big, trusting eyes. "School tomorrow?" Mason's small voice asked his baby tone pulling at my heartstrings in a way that nearly made my chest ache. I gently cupped his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin against my palm as I softly replied, "No, baby, I’m sorry. We still have several check-ups to go to. But you’ll be able to go really soon." I reassured him. His disappointment was immediate, his little face falling, and it made my heart tighten. He loved preschool. Every morning when I dropped him off, he would run inside, his backpack bouncing against his small back as he eagerly headed toward the classroom, ready to play with his friends. Now, he was deprived of that. "My poor baby," I whispered, kneeling down to his level, brushing a lock of hair from his face. "I’m so sorry, Cookie," I added, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead, my own heart heavy with guilt. I longed for the day the surgery would be done so he could play and laugh like other kids. "Let’s go home, Cookie," I said, finally as the bus arrived just in time. Walking with him people glanced at the two of us, the mom and son duo wearing matching outfits as we usually did. Mason was five now, and his adorableness was impossible to ignore. His round cheeks, the ones I loved to pinch and kiss, were still baby soft. His sun-kissed hair and big, beautiful expressive eyes,made me wonder how I could have ever considered not keeping him. The thought of aborting him, of losing this precious little soul, was a decision I could never imagine making again. Keeping him was the best choice I had ever made. I had my little family. I would do everything in my power to make sure Mason had the life he deserved—the one he should have, full of playdates, laughter, and normalcy. The surgery was a must. There was only one solution left. If I wanted him to have a chance at a normal life, I’d have to return. Back to that city. Hart Town. The very place I had fled from all those years ago, with no intention of ever returning. But now, for Mason, I had no other choice. Some nights, I found myself thinking about him—Desmond. The bus pulled up, brakes hissing as it came to a stop. Still holding Mason close, I stepped inside, finding a seat near the window. The evening sun cast a warm glow through the glass, painting everything in soft amber hues. A gentle chuckle pulled me from my thoughts. “Aren’t you an adorable little munchkin,” an elderly woman beside us cooed, her eyes twinkling as she smiled at Mason. Mason, ever the polite little boy, grinned back. “Thank you.” The woman’s gaze lingered on him, her expression soft with admiration. “Those beautiful eyes… I assume he takes after his father?” My breath caught for the briefest second. His father? I glanced down at Mason, taking in the familiar yet indefinable features that made up his face. His **deep, striking eyes—**not quite mine, not quite Desmond’s. I had never really thought about it before. And now, I wasn’t sure how to answer. I only gave her a polite smile. Then again, he might have been anybody's. Sighing softly I relaxed back into the seat. Desmond. What was he doing now? Was he living well? Did he think of me sometimes? The thought twisted something deep inside of me, but I quickly shook it off. I wasn’t going to allow myself to go down that road again. I would just have to make sure we never ran into him. We lived in different worlds now, and it was better that way. The moment we arrived home, Mason and I settled into our routine. We had dinner together, the comforting smell of the meal filling the small apartment. Afterward, I gave him a warm bath, watching as his face lit up with the excitement of the bubbles and the playful splashes. Once he was all clean, we curled up on the couch, watching his favorite cartoons, and I let the familiar sounds of the TV fill the quiet space around us. Later, when Mason had drifted off to sleep, I grabbed my phone and called my friend Julie, knowing it was still early where she was. "I and Mason will be coming back soon," I said after we'd exchanged plesentaries. "What?!" Julie's voice echoed with surprise, a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "You heard me right," I replied with a sigh. "You mean I get to see my baby?!" she asked, her joy unmistakable. I chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. "Yes," I laughed lightly, the tension from earlier easing just a bit. "We'll be staying for quite a while, relocating temporarily." There was a pause on the other end, then she spoke in a softer tone. "You sure about that?" I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. "Yeah," I said, my voice steady but filled with unspoken uncertainty. "I’ll explain everything when I get there." The phone line was quiet for a moment, but I could hear Julie thinking. Then, I felt the familiar knot of anxiety twist in my stomach. "Have you... run into him?" I asked, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "Is there any chance I'll run into him? Any chance that he's come back?" I hated how vulnerable the thought of seeing him again made me. The mere idea of running into Desmond made my heart race and my mind spin with what-ifs. Julie didn’t need to ask who I was referring to. She answered immediately. "He's not here. He’s been out of the country for several years now. He hasn’t returned since he left." I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The relief washed over me like a cool wave. There was no chance I’d bump into him while we were there. Hopefully, for the next year or two while Mason’s treatment was ongoing, I wouldn’t have to face him. "But still," Julie said, her tone turning more serious. "Are you sure you're okay with this? I mean, you're coming back to this city. The city filled with so many memories…" Her words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them. This was the city where I had fallen in love, where I had nearly lost my life, and where I had lost everything. The place that had broken me and made me swear never to return. I took in a deep, painful breath, the memories flooding back—both the good and the heartbreaking. "Yes," I said decisively, my voice more confident than I felt. "I’m sure. I have to do this for Mason."