The Billionaire's Runaway Nurse

11

Flashback

“Can’t you hear me? Come home now!” Amelia’s voice, sharp with anger and thickened by something else—grief, maybe—cut through the phone. Her hands trembled as she gripped it, though she hid her face from her children. Mia, eight years old but with the watchful gaze of someone much older, glanced over at Liam, who quietly stirred his spoon in his bowl, his four-year-old eyes widening.

This was not new to them. The shouting, the hot sting of words from their parents, had once been carefully concealed. But lately, everything had seeped out, spilling like water down cracked walls. The angrier her mother became, the smaller the room felt, until it held only fury and despair.

“Liam,” Mia whispered, nudging him gently, “just eat.” She glanced at her mother, then took another small bite, knowing he’d mimic her, wanting to set an example. And he did, chewing slowly, though his eyes flickered up to Amelia, listening to every line of her voice rise and fall in angry waves.

"You have no idea what you’ve done to this family," Amelia’s voice wavered. "Yes, you did. It’s all your fault. How can you be so blind?” A breath of hesitation, and then her voice cracked, “You’re choosing him over us. You’re choosing your work over us.”

There was silence on her end, but not on hers, not for Mia and Liam. The silence to them was as loud as anything their mother had said. “You’re really not coming, are you?” Amelia's voice, though quieter, was jagged, every word a slice of something unspoken. "I don’t care anymore. I’m going to see her—and I’m taking the kids.” The phone call ended in a click, final as a slammed door.

She took a breath, looked over her shoulder, and found her children’s wide-eyed stares. "Mia, Liam, we’re leaving now," she ordered, wiping her hand over her face, as if brushing away all the hurt still lingering there.

“But, Mommy…” Liam began, his fork still in his hand.

Mia stepped in, knowing how to calm him. “Mommy said we’ll finish later,” she said softly, patting his hand.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Amelia explained quickly, her voice catching on the word as though it were a thorn. Liam’s eyes grew wide with fear.

“Are you sick, Mommy?” Mia asked, her hand instinctively reaching for her mother’s.

“No, sweetheart.” Amelia pulled Mia close, looking at her with a mixture of tenderness and sadness. "There’s something…or rather someone, I want you to remember." She took a breath, steadying herself, as if what she was about to say would shatter her.

“Who?” Mia asked, her eyes curious.

“He was your first friend,” Amelia explained, brushing Mia’s hair back. "You used to cling to him, following him everywhere. He was like a shadow, your other half." She tried to smile, but it only made her look sadder. "Do you remember?”

Mia shook her head, and the crease of frustration flashed across Amelia’s face. "How could you forget?” Her voice cracked as she grasped Mia’s small hand tightly.

“Mommy, it hurts!” Mia whimpered, her lips trembling, but she held her ground, trying to understand what this strange, sad look in her mother’s eyes meant.

Amelia pulled her hands back quickly, horrified. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” she murmured, hugging her tightly. "Please forgive me.”

Liam tugged on his mother’s sleeve. "Mia strong, Mommy. No hurt.” He turned to his sister, patting her shoulder with a proud, protective look, though his hand was small against hers.

Amelia laughed a little, brushing the tears from her eyes. "You two are all I have, my heart and soul,” she said. “And your daddy…he’s someone who loves you both very much, even if he doesn’t show it. He’s a good man.” She sighed, the pain in her voice gentle yet sharp as a blade. "He just made a mistake—one that hurts people. But remember, family matters. Friends matter. Money…doesn’t.”

Mia nodded, holding Amelia’s gaze with such an adult-like understanding that it stunned her mother. "We’ll be good, Mommy,” she promised, her hand reaching back to squeeze Liam’s. He looked at his sister, his trust complete.

"Liam too,” he echoed, puffing out his chest with importance. Amelia kissed them both and ushered them to the car.

The hospital loomed as they arrived, a place whose sterile walls seemed to trap the quiet cries of those within. Amelia turned to her children, her voice as soft as she could manage. “Stay here, alright? Mommy has to see someone.”

“I want to come too,” Liam insisted, pulling her hand to him.

She brushed his cheek. "I need you to stay with Mia. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Her words lingered, her voice a whisper now, like a lullaby. Mia took Liam’s hand and led him to the hospital garden, the small patch of green their oasis amid unfamiliar halls and foreign faces.

When Amelia was out of sight, Mia knelt beside her brother, running her fingers through his hair. "Do you want to play?”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Yes! I’ll catch you!”

Mia took off, her footsteps light on the grass, and her laughter, loud and bright, made him chase her in earnest, delighted with the game. When she slowed just enough, he pounced, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a hug, giggling as they fell together, breathless with laughter.

But then Liam stopped, pointing toward a rose bush near the far corner of the garden. “Mia,” he whispered, “I see someone. There’s a boy crying.”

Mia followed his gaze, seeing the figure of a boy, maybe a year or two older, sitting by the thorny bush, his shoulders trembling, his face buried in his hands.

“Stay here, Liam,” she whispered, inching closer to the boy, whose quiet sobs reached her ears. She stopped just in front of him, her fingers stretching out instinctively as she asked, “Are you hurt?”

The boy lifted his head, meeting her gaze for only a second before averting it, retreating back into his sorrow. "Go away,” he muttered, but it held none of the anger she might have expected.

Mia held her ground, her hand still outstretched, undeterred. “You’ll hurt yourself with the thorns here. Do you…do you want to come over by the tree?”

He looked at her, his mouth opening slightly as if to respond, but he only shook his head. She sat down beside him quietly, close enough that he could feel her presence, not saying a word.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice thin and barely audible. “My dad’s gone. He just…died. And my mom…” He stopped, the words tangling in his throat. "They said she’s going to…that she might not make it, either.”

Mia felt the words hit her like cold water, but she held herself steady. She reached over, her fingers brushing his shoulder. “Your mom is still here, though. So don’t give up hope yet.”

The boy looked down, fresh tears gathering in his eyes. “I hope she’ll be okay. I don’t have anyone else now.”

Liam, his brow furrowed with concern, reached over and patted the boy’s shoulder. "Mia’s right. She’ll be okay,” he said earnestly, his small voice comforting. "Mia always says that everyone we love is…invisible but close.”

The boy’s eyes softened. “Thank you,” he whispered, his gaze lingering on the two of them. “You two are lucky…to have each other.”

Mia nodded, squeezing Liam’s hand. "I’ll always be here for Liam.”

Liam nodded, repeating with absolute conviction, “Me too, for Mia.”

The boy looked down, smiling a little through the sadness. “I had a friend like that once. Someone who would always chase after me, even when I tried to hide.”

Mia tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "What happened to her?”

He shrugged, his voice growing softer. “I don’t know. It’s been years since we last saw each other. Maybe…she’s forgotten all about me.”

Mia opened her mouth to respond, but a woman’s voice interrupted them, calling from a distance. "There you are!” She rushed over, barely catching her breath as she added, “Your mother wants to see you. Come with me.”

The boy stood, his face lighting with sudden hope. “Mom!” He dashed back toward the building, a spark of life kindling in his movements as he raced to her side.

Liam watched him go, concern lingering in his small, innocent eyes. "Mia, do you think his mommy will be alright?”

She took his hand, hugging him close. “I hope so.”

They sat quietly in the garden until Amelia returned. "Mia! Liam!” she called, rousing them gently from their drowsy waiting. They blinked awake, standing to greet her, and she held them both in her arms.

“Mommy,” Mia murmured, hugging her tightly. "Is everything okay?”

But Amelia only smiled faintly, nodding as she walked them to the car, fastening them in, then beginning the silent drive home. No words passed between them. When they arrived, Amelia went straight to her room, closing the door quietly behind her. But her muffled sobs slipped through the walls, and Mia listened, her heart aching with empathy.

She wiped her own tears before they could fall, taking Liam’s hand before he could wander too close. "Come on,” she whispered, her voice tender. "Let’s go play.” Together, they left their mother’s sorrow behind, retreating to the soft quiet of the playroom where their laughter, gentle and bright, slowly filled the empty air.