Second Chance Daddy

Chapter Six

Beckett’s POV

It’s her.

My heart stops dead in my chest, a sudden, violent jolt that leaves me breathless. Blood roars in my ears, a deafening, rushing tide that drowns out the ambient noise of the people around us on the deck, the host’s voice fading into nothing as I stare unblinkingly at the ghost in front of me. f**k me, it’s Elodie. My Elodie.

My mind spins into a chaotic whirlwind of disbelief and agonizing recognition. What the hell is she doing here? Of all the places, why is she standing right in front of me? Her gaze connects with mine, a look of shock crossing her delicate features as we stare at each other until the brunette next to her grabs her arm and pulls her toward the railings, where everyone else is now standing.

I remain rooted to the deck as I stare intently at her back. I can’t move, not even as the boat shudders to life underneath me. I don’t move again until the children line up in front of Fallon Monroe, picking names out of a hat, and it’s suddenly the turn of Elodie’s daughter. f***k, she has a daughter!

The realisation hits me like a physical blow. She has a kid.

The fact punches me straight in the gut, a brutal, unseen fist that sours my stomach and almost bends me double. My breath hitches, escaping my throat in a faint, ragged gasp. Deep down, in the dark, quiet corners of my mind over the last few years, I knew there was a distinct possibility that she would move on. I knew she might have a family by now. But actually seeing it? Facing the living, breathing proof of her life without me? It is a hundred times more painful than I ever could have imagined.

A barrage of frantic, agonizing questions floods my brain, each one more toxic than the last. Was she married? Where is the father? Did they divorce? Is the guy dead?

My stomach twists bitterly, a toxic cocktail of jealousy and resentment bubbling up inside me. The mere thought of her married to some other fucker makes my jaw ache from clenching. I picture it vividly against my will: Elodie standing at an altar, looking up at another man with those beautiful eyes, softly agreeing to be his forever. I picture him kissing her. I picture them tangled in sheets, him fuc . . .

‘Murphy’ the little girl’s voice cuts through my spiral of thoughts, my gaze snapping up as my Elodie walks toward the guy who steps out of line, reaching for her hand and lifting it to his lips.

Elodie’s cheeks heat slightly as she looks up at him shyly. Unable to stop it, a growl claws its way up my chest, forcing past my lips and out into the open.

The two of them still, turning to face me as I quickly school my features into the usual cool indifference that I’ve learned to perfect over the years.

They move out of the way and I watch them from the corner of my eye, my hands fisting at my sides until the sound of my own name jerks me back to the rest of the group around me.

I find myself focusing on the last of the single mothers who almost falls over her own feet as she stumbles forward, her eyes wide as she stares at me in shock.

F.uck, she picked my name. I reluctantly step up to meet her, offering a polite, practiced smile before awkwardly extending my hand toward her. She takes it, her chest heaving with erratic breaths as she stares up at me in awe, I have to bite back the urge to ask her if she’s ever seen a man before as she’s looking at me like she thought my kind are extinct.

‘Beckett, this is Sicily and she will be your partner for tomorrow’ Fallon gushes beside us.

‘Nice to meet you Sicily’ I lie, my head still filled with the woman who just stepped away with another f.ucking man. I give her hand, the briefest of shakes, before letting her go quickly.

‘Uhh . . . it’s nice to meet you too . . .’ Sicily breathes, looking completely star struck.

We’re finally let go, the cameras turning away as the team packs up for the night. The groups stand awkwardly around, no one really knowing what to do for a second.

The tall blonde, who I think is called Vanessa takes charge, sweeping toward the remaining two men with her partner in tow, engaging them in conversation as she tosses her hair over her shoulder and smiles coyly.

Her laugh echoes across the deck as she touches Leif’s arm in response to something he says, the broad shouldered sports player looking a little overwhelmed under her scrutiny. I watch for a moment as she commands the space around her, her laughter a little too loud, her gestures a little too wide. She exudes an intense, performative energy that instantly makes me dislike her, she reminds me of the lawyers who try to extort money from my company with bogus claims from disgruntled ex employees. Beside her is a five year old boy who kicks at the deck with his shoe, hands pushed deep into his pockets who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but on this ship.

My gaze moves across the deck, drawn back to the woman who has plagued my mind for nearly seven years.

I find her instantly, dressed in a simple dress with a thin cardigan covering her shoulders, she is the exact opposite of the loud, overbearing blonde trying to stake her claim on the other male contestants.

My gaze remains pinned on her for a minute before a shadow falls over her face and I remember that she’s not alone. Standing right beside her is that absolute asshole, the guy whose name her kid just picked out of the raffle bag. He bows his head slightly, leaning in with a familiar, casual ease to speak to her that makes my blood thunder in my ears.

"Elodie."

Her name rips from my throat before I can even think to stop it. It is a raw, gravelly sound, loaded with what feels like a lifetime of regret.

The effect is instantaneous. I watch the muscles in her back lock up. She freezes completely in place, every line of her body going rigid. For a fraction of a second, she hovers in that state of suspended animation. Then, with unbearable slowness, she straightens her shoulders, throws her head back, and turns around to face me.

I stare directly into her eyes, and my lungs suddenly forget how to work. The air around us turns to lead.

She is stunning. She was always pretty before—a soft, captivating kind of beautiful that used to keep me awake at night—but now, after nearly seven years apart, she has blossomed. There is no other word for it. She has transformed into what I can only describe as a goddess. Her features are sharper, more defined, carrying the elegant maturity of a woman who was always destined for effortless elegance.

Elodie stares back at me mutely, her lips slightly parted as her eyes lock onto mine. I search her face desperately for a flicker of the girl I used to hold, for any sign of the fire we used to share. But right before my eyes, she pulls herself together. She takes a slow, deep, stabilising breath. I watch her chest rise and fall, and then, like a shutter closing over a window, her expression shifts. It hardens into a flawless, utterly unreadable mask of polite indifference.

"Can I help you, Mr...?"

She halts mid-sentence, tilting her head and raising a single, perfectly groomed eyebrow as she waits politely for me to fill in the blank.

A cold shock of disbelief washes over me, quickly followed by a surge of white-hot anger. I frown deeply, my brows knitting together. She doesn’t remember me? How the f***k can she not remember me? After everything we were to each other, the time we spent together, how can she stand there and look at me like I am a complete stranger asking for directions?

‘Hayes’ I bite out angrily, ‘Beckett Hayes.’

Elodie nods slowly, lifting her shoulders slightly as she gives me a vague smile.

‘It’s nice to make your acquaintance, Mr Hayes but I’m afraid I’m a little busy getting to know my partner for the challenge tomorrow, so if you’ll excuse us . . .’

She begins to turn away, about to shut me out when:

"Do you know my mummy?"

The small, innocent voice cuts through the thick tension, drawing my attention downward, to the small blonde child standing right beside her mother. Elodie’s daughter looks up at me with a cute, utterly confused expression, her tiny brow furrowing slightly as she seems to sense a second later, the sudden hostility radiating off of her mother at her question.