Chapter 7 - The HomecomingThree days later, the rain finally cleared over Brooklyn, leaving behind crisp autumn air and bright, clean sunshine.
The heavy oak doors of the private pediatric wing at New York General Hospital opened smoothly. Rebecca Morgan stepped out into the hallway, wearing a soft cream-colored sweater and dark jeans. Though she still walked a bit slowly from her internal injuries, the color had returned to her cheeks, and her auburn hair was neatly tied back.
Walking right beside her, holding tightly to her left hand, was four-year-old Lily. In her other arm, Lily was squeezing her beloved brown teddy bear, but hanging from her shoulder was a brand-new, oversized pink backpack stuffed with coloring books and crayons.
Waiting at the end of the corridor was a sleek, black chauffeured Maybach, parked right outside the hospital’s private exit. Standing beside the open rear door was James.
He wasn't wearing his usual corporate tie. He wore a simple navy blazer and an open-collared white shirt, looking more like the university student Rebecca had fallen in love with seven years ago than the ruthless billionaire who had just dismantled an empire.
When Lily saw him, her eyes lit up. “James!” she squealed, letting go of Rebecca’s hand and running down the hallway as fast as her little legs could carry her.
James dropped to one knee with a wide, genuine smile, catching Lily right as she leaped into his arms. He lifted her up, spinning her around once as she giggled, before setting her gently on her feet.
“Did you pack everything, Captain Lily?” James asked, adjusting the strap of her pink backpack.
“I have my bear, my crayons, and my new shoes!” Lily announced proudly. “Are we going to our new house now?”
“We are,” James said softly, looking up as Rebecca approached them.
Rebecca stopped a few feet away, her green eyes shimmering with unspeakable emotion. She looked at James—really looked at him—seeing past the wealth, the power, and the armor he wore to protect himself from the world.
“You didn't have to buy a brownstone in Brooklyn Heights, James,” Rebecca said softly, a gentle, nervous smile touching her lips. “An apartment would have been... well, anything would have been more than I expected.”
“You said once that art restoration is about fixing what was broken and making it stronger than before,” James said, stepping closer to her, his gaze intense and full of a quiet, unshakeable devotion. “I didn't buy a house, Becca. I bought a home. And I intend to spend the rest of my life making sure no one ever touches you or our daughter again.”
Rebecca’s breath hitched. She reached out, her fingers gently touching the lapel of his blazer. “Are you sure about this? All of it? The media is still tearing my past apart, and your family name—”
“My family name starts right here,” James interrupted, gently taking her hand and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her knuckles. He reached into his pocket with his other hand, pulled out a small black velvet box, and popped it open.
Inside sat a ring—not a giant, ostentatious diamond meant to impress a board of directors, but a delicate platinum band set with a single, brilliant emerald that matched the exact color of her eyes, surrounded by intricate antique filigree work.
“Rebecca Morgan,” James whispered, dropping to one knee right beside Lily on the hospital floor. “Will you let me spend the next fifty years proving that I am never, ever letting you walk away again?”
Lily gasped, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Say yes, Mommy! Say yes so he can be my daddy forever!”
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Tears spilled freely down Rebecca’s cheeks, but this time, there was no fear in them—only complete, overwhelming peace.
“Yes,” Rebecca whispered, her voice breaking through a happy sob. “Yes, James... a million times yes.”
