The Billionaire In The Treehouse

Chapter 7

Medora

“Will that be all?” I asked the couple at the table for two, forcing yet another smile. It felt like the millionth one today.

“Yes,” the lady replied politely, while the young man sitting across from her flicked his long brown hair back. The gesture reminded me of Clyde—again.

Everything reminds me of Clyde today. Well, maybe "reminds" isn’t the right word since he hasn’t left my mind all day. God, this is so weird. And nasty.

I dragged myself away from the table, handing their order note to Yellow, who passed it to Rob with her usual efficiency. Leaning against the marble kitchen island, I folded my arms behind me and chewed on my bottom lip.

The ache in my chest was unbearable, like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I tried to focus on anything else—anything at all—but it wasn’t working. I started counting the stacked plates, only to lose track and have to start over when my vision blurred.

Ugh, this is useless.

I stormed off to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in hopes of snapping out of it. But the tightness in my chest stayed put, stubborn and unrelenting. What is this feeling? Concern? Pity? Or something worse? Trauma, maybe?

Yes. Maybe this is about Clyde because he reminds me of my little brother. My parents adopted a seven-year-old boy when I was seventeen, but he ran away a few years later and never came back. He must have been twelve or so at the time. Maybe I see Clyde as a stand-in for the brother I lost. Maybe I just miss him.

“Urghhh,” I groaned, clutching my chest tightly as if it would help.

“What’s wrong with you?” A voice cut through the air. I snapped my eyes open and looked in the mirror. Yellow was standing behind me, arms crossed, holding… a stick?

Her face was pale, her usual sharp confidence replaced by a look I could only describe as fragile. Yellow, fragile. Something was definitely wrong. I turned around to face her, concern etched into my expression.

“No, what’s wrong with you?” I asked, leaning against the sink. My eyes flicked to the stick in her hand, trying to figure out what it was.

She let out a shaky, choking sob. “Medora… baby…” Her voice cracked, barely holding it together.

“What?” My stomach tightened as I watched tears spill down her face.

She sniffled, covering her mouth with one hand while bracing the other against her lower back. Then, as if forcing herself to face it, she took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant,” she said, her voice trembling. She stretched the stick toward me.

A pregnancy test.

My heart sank. I didn’t even know why at first. Maybe because Yellow wasn’t married. Or because she’d never mentioned having a boyfriend. Or because she was crying instead of celebrating.

“What?” I managed, taking the test from her and staring at the two unmistakable lines. “f**k!” I blurted. “How? Yellow, whose is it?”

“Peter,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Peter. The name hit me like a slap, but the weight of it didn’t register immediately. I frowned, confused. “Then why are you crying? Yellow, tell Peter and get married. Or… don’t you want to?” I asked, trying to make sense of it.

Her shoulders shook as she let out another heart-wrenching sob. “Med…” She paused, her breath hitching as she tried to steady herself, but it was no use. “Peter is marrying my cousin next week.”

Oh. Oh.

My knees buckled as the words hit me. I slid down to the floor, pressing my palms against my forehead. “Yellow, no. No, no, no. This is bad.”

She squatted next to me, burying her face in her hands, her cries turning into muffled wails.

I caught a few shallow breaths, trying to gather my thoughts. “What were you thinking, sleeping with your cousin’s fiancé?” I asked, but immediately realized how useless that question was. What was the point of asking about the past now?

“What are you going to do?” I said instead, my voice softer, though no less urgent.

Yellow didn’t answer. She just cried harder, her whole body trembling as she tried and failed to pull herself together.

And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t have a single clue what to say.

*****

The restaurant had finally closed for the night, and we’d just finished cleaning up. Yellow locked up, her fingers steady despite the whirlwind of emotions she’d been through. She always kept the key, courtesy of Matt’s undying affection for her. I didn’t mind.

Sliding into the seat across from her on the patio, I placed the wine bottle I’d brought on the table and opened it. I poured a glass for her, then one for myself. Yellow had calmed down since our earlier conversation, but we needed to have another one—a serious one.

I leaned back, watching her nibble on a slice of pizza. “I thought Peter was your best friend? How did your cousin get into the mix?” I asked, breaking the silence.

She sighed, setting the pizza down like it suddenly tastes bitter. “Yes, Peter is my best friend. I’ve had a crush on him since high school, I guess, but I never said anything. He clearly didn’t feel the same way. When we went to college, my cousin joined us, and… well, they started dating. Without me knowing, of course. When I found out, I was mad, but…” She hesitated, staring into her glass. “I saw how much my cousin liked Peter. She doesn’t like a lot of guys, and I didn’t want to ruin it for her.”

“Nice story,” I said dryly, taking a sip of wine. “But let’s cut to the part where you and Peter started sleeping together.”

Yellow winced, then let out a humorless laugh. “He came back from California about six months ago, after finishing his PhD. That’s when he proposed to my cousin. Med, I was devastated. I cried so much that day, I felt like I was drowning. After that, I started avoiding both of them. Peter didn’t like it. He kept texting me, calling me, asking to hang out. I ignored him until two months ago when we had this… confrontation. It was heated, Med. I told him how I felt.” Her voice wavered, but she steadied herself with a gulp of wine. “He felt bad—really bad—and while he was consoling me… one thing led to another.”

She swallowed hard and raised her glass again, avoiding my gaze.

“That’s… crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “So what now? What are you going to do?”

Yellow straightened in her seat, her expression firm. “Keep the baby, lie to my family about who the father is, and move on with my life.”

“What?” I exclaimed, nearly spilling my wine. “Peter seems like he loves you. Shouldn’t your cousin know what he’s been doing behind her back?”

“Medora, they’re perfect for each other. They love each other. They deserve to be happy,” she said with a bitterness that didn’t quite match her words.

“And Peter? He doesn’t deserve to know he’s going to have a child?”

“I’m not telling him,” Yellow said with finality, her eyes locking with mine.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Her mind was made up, and I knew nothing I said would change it.

---

I dropped Yellow off at her street, watching her jog up the sidewalk before making a U-turn. I stopped at a bakery on the way home, grabbing a slice of cheesecake. I told myself it was for me—I love cheesecake now, right?—but I knew better.

It was for Clyde.

Really, Med? You’re trying to impress a billionaire with cheesecake? my subconscious sneered.

I ignored it, driving home to shower and change before heading to Clyde’s place.

When I reached his house, I rang the doorbell and waited. The door beeped twice before unlocking. I pushed it open and stepped inside, the smell of something faintly citrusy filling the air.

When Clyde looked up and saw me, his eyes widened, and a bright, unguarded smile lit up his face. The warmth in his expression made my chest tighten.

God, he had no idea how much power he had over me in that moment.