The Billionaire’s Secret Heirs (Celine and Hunter) novel Chapter 220

Chapter 220

Chapter 220

-CELINE POV-

The world had shrunk to the size of a hospital room.

White walls. The steady beeping of the heart monitor. The faint antiseptic sting in the air.

That was it. That was my world now.

I lay on the bed, curled slightly to one side, the blanket tucked around me. My hands kept drifting to my stomach out of habit, brushing over the gown, searching for something that wasn’t there anymore. Each time my palm met only flatness, my chest tightened until I thought I might choke.

I hadn’t spoken in two days. Not to Sally. Not to the nurses. Not even to Hunter.

Especially not to Hunter.

Every time he came in, every time I heard his deep voice murmuring my name, I turned my face to the wall. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t hear the words he tried to say. If I did, I was afraid the scream inside me would tear its way out, raw and endless.

I’d lost my baby.

And in my mind, in the part of me that refused to let go of blame, it was his fault.

The door creaked open. My body stiffened, expecting his heavy footsteps, the scent of his cologne. My throat closed up, ready to stay silent again.

But instead, a lighter tread padded across the floor. Then a voice, soft but tinged with something sharp, like steel wrapped in velvet.

“Wow, you look like hell.”

I blinked, my head snapping slightly toward the sound.

Blake.

She stood at the edge of the room, a paper bag in her hand. Her Auburn hair was pulled back, her eyeliner slightly smudged like she hadn’t slept much either.

But her eyes….those cutting, mischievous eyes……studied me with something I didn’t expect. Not pity. Not judgment.

Just… awareness.

She set the bag on the table by the bed and dragged the chair closer, plopping down with a sigh. “You know, I had to fight your dragon husband just to get in here. He practically wanted to frisk me.”

A small huff escaped me, more air than sound. I wasn’t even sure if it counted as a laugh or just a reminder

Chapter 220

that my lungs still worked.

Blake leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs. “Don’t worry. I didn’t bring balloons or flowers. Too cliché. I brought contraband.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a small container. “Chocolate–covered almonds. Don’t tell the nurse.”

The smell drifted over…sweet, nutty, rich. My stomach twisted, not from hunger but from memory. I used to crave these in the early weeks, when the baby was just a little secret between me and Hunter.

My eyes stung, and I quickly turned my face toward the window, blinking hard.

Blake’s voice softened. “He’s worried about you, you know. Hunter. He looks like a wreck. Hasn’t shaved. Vincent says he’s starting to smell like he’s allergic to showers”

I swallowed, my throat dry. My lips parted, but no sound came out.

“He’s breaking,” Blake said simply, no dramatic flair, no sugarcoating. “And so are you.”

The bluntness made me flinch. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, wishing I could crawl beneath it and disappear.

Blake leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I’m not here to tell you to forgive him. I wouldn’t forgive him either. Not yet. Maybe not ever. What I’m saying is–you can’t keep punishing yourself like this.”

My breath caught. I turned sharply, my eyes locking onto hers. “Punishing myself?” My voice was hoarse, cracked from disuse, but the anger inside gave it fuel. “I lost my baby, Blake. My baby. Do you know what that feels like?”

Her eyes flickered. A shadow crossed her face, quick and raw. She sat back, lips pressing together before she spoke.

“Yes,” she said quietly. “I do.”

The room went still. The monitor beeped steadily, filling the silence.

I stared at her, my anger faltering, confusion slipping in. She didn’t explain, but something in her voice told me it was true. Maybe not the same way. Maybe not the same loss. But pain was pain.

Blake shrugged, trying to act casual, though her eyes betrayed her. “Point is–you can’t shut the world out. Not Caesar. Not forever.”

At the sound of my son’s name, my chest constricted.

“He came here,” Blake continued softly. “He brought cookies. Your favorite. Hunter helped him bake them. Do you know how much of a disaster that must’ve been? Flour everywhere. Burnt edges. The poor kid stood there holding that basket like it was a treasure, and you….” She trailed off, biting her lip.

Tears blurred my vision. I had turned away. I couldn’t look at him. My little boy. My sweet Caesar.

Blake leaned closer, her voice firmer now. “You think pushing him away will protect him? It won’t. It’s killing him. And it’s killing you too.”

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I shook my head violently, the tears spilling now. “I can’t. I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll see…” My voice broke, a sob tearing free. “I’ll see what I lost. I’ll see the little brother or sister he’ll never have because of me.”

Blake’s hand touched mine, firm but not forcing. “Not because of you.”

I pulled away, curling my fingers into fists. “Because of Hunter. Because of Mia. Because I was stupid enough to believe I could have happiness in this house.”

The bitterness in my voice shocked even me.

Blake didn’t flinch. She nodded slowly. “Then hate them. Be angry. You have every right. But don’t shut out the people who love you. Caesar doesn’t deserve that. And neither do you.”

I broke then. The sobs ripped through me, shaking my body, soaking the pillow. I cried until my chest ached, until my throat burned.

Blake sat with me the whole time. No useless words. No false promises. Just her presence.

When the storm eased, I lay there trembling, exhausted.

Blake finally spoke, her tone almost gentle. “Do you love him?”

My breath hitched. I knew who she meant. Hunter.

The image of his face flashed in my mind….those broken eyes when he told me the truth about the baby, the way his voice cracked when he tried to touch me.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore.”

Blake studied me, then stood, smoothing her clothes. “That’s for you to decide. But don’t wait too long. Because that man out there? He’s drowning. And I don’t think he knows how to swim without you.”

I closed my eyes as fresh tears welled.

When I opened them, she was gone. The room felt too quiet, too big again. But her words remained, echoing through the hollow space in my chest.

Did I love him enough to let him back in? Or did my grief matter more than whatever future we had left?

I didn’t know.

Áll I knew was that the silence was unbearable, and for the first time since the accident, I wished I weren’t

alone.

**

-HUNTER POV-

I hated hospitals.

The sterile air. The buzzing lights. The faint smell of disinfectant clung to your clothes long after you left. But

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most of all, I hated the way they made you feel powerless.

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Like money, power, status–all of it meant nothing when the person you loved lay behind a door you couldn’t

open.

Celine was in there.

And I was out here.

I sat in the hallway, elbows on my knees, my hands pressed hard against my face. My beard scratched against my palms. I hadn’t bothered to shave in days, hadn’t bothered with anything beyond being here, in case she called for me.

Except she hadn’t.

Not once.

Every time I stepped into that room, she turned away. Her body went rigid, her silence sharper than any words she could have spoken.

It gutted me.

The sound of footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts. Vincent leaned against the wall across from me, arms crossed, wearing that annoyingly smug look he always wore when he thought he knew better.

Beside him, Blake adjusted her jacket and glanced at me like I was some pathetic stray dog she wasn’t sure was worth saving.

Vincent grinned. “Jesus, Hunter, you look like a homeless man who wandered into a billionaire’s hospital by mistake. You ever heard of a razor?”

I didn’t rise to the bait. Couldn’t. My energy was gone. My voice scraped low when I asked, “How is she?”

Blake studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “Broken. But breathing. You need to give her space.”

Space. That was all she ever wanted from me lately. And every time I gave it, I felt like I was losing her all over again.

Vincent stepped forward, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Man, you gotta eat. Sleep. You think falling apart is gonna help her?”

I shook my head, the weight pressing down on me unbearable. “She blames me. And she’s right. I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve stopped Mia…..”

Vincent cut me off sharply. “You didn’t cause this. Don’t start carrying sins that aren’t yours.”

I let out a bitter laugh, low and humorless. “Says the man who hasn’t watched the woman he loves flinch from

his touch.”

The words hung there, heavy and raw.

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Blake shifted uncomfortably, but Vincent just studied me with something close to pity. I hated it. I didn’t want pity. I wanted my wife back. I wanted my child back. I wanted time to rewind itself and give me one more

chance not to fail her.

“The doctor suggested couples counseling,” I muttered, my throat tight.

Blake raised a brow. “And?”

“And she won’t even look at me. How the hell am I supposed to sit her down in a room and ask her to talk about feelings when she won’t say a damn word to me?”

Vincent crouched so we were eye level, his usual arrogance dimmed. “Then you wait. You fight like hell for her, Hunter. You don’t let grief turn you into a coward.”

Something inside me cracked. My hands trembled. For days I’d been holding myself together, pretending I could carry this weight, pretending I could still be the Hunter Reid everyone expected–the untouchable billionaire, the ruthless shark.

But I wasn’t untouchable. Not anymore.

My vision blurred, and before I could stop it, a tear slid down my cheek. Then another. My chest heaved, the sobs ripping out of me like a dam breaking.

I hadn’t cried in years. Not since my father died.

Now I couldn’t stop.

Vincent’s eyes widened, and for once he was silent. Blake looked away, giving me the dignity of not watching me unravel.

And then-“Hunter?”

The voice was soft, female, and achingly familiar.

I turned. Caroline stood at the end of the hall, her suitcase still in hand, her hair pulled back, her eyes wide with shock. She took in the sight of me..her cousin, always so composed, always in control–sitting there shattered.

She dropped her bag.

“Hunter,” she whispered again, and then she was running.

I barely had time to rise before she threw her arms around me. I clung to her like a lifeline, burying my face in her shoulder, shaking with grief I couldn’t contain.

Caroline’s voice trembled as she held me. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be strong right now. I’m here. We’ll get through this. Both of you.”

For the first time since the world had fallen apart, I let myself believe maybe that was true.

Maybe.

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But as I clung to my cousin in that hospital hallway, one truth echoed louder than all the rest:

If I lost Celine for good, I wouldn’t survive it.