Page 23 of The Billionaire's Secret Heir

Chapter Seven

“Good morning, sunshine.”

Graham’s voice floated to him as Beckett opened his eyes. It took a moment. He was still in Graham’s kitchen, still on that wood tile floor. Still alive. The pain in his chest had receded, but his whole body ached.

“Why am I not at the hospital? I had a—did I have a heart attack?”

Graham sat cross-legged on the floor nearby. “Not quite. Panic attack. Often people confuse the two. Is this your first?”

“No, that was a heart attack. My chest—”

“Felt like it was exploding. Shortness of breath, pain, loss of consciousness. Right?” Beckett nodded and Graham continued. “Similar symptoms, but if it were a heart attack, you wouldn’t still be here. And as much as I love my kitchen, we are not in heaven.” Graham gave a little laugh.

Beckett didn’t want to try to sit up yet. He’d taken off his suit jacket and left it hanging on the back of his stool at the counter. His dress shirt felt thin, almost like he wore nothing at all. Today he hadn’t worn a shirt underneath, which meant that the tile was cooling his skin through the material.

“How did you know?”

“I’ve had a few.” Graham made a face.

Beckett attempted to sit up. Graham grabbed his arm and helped pull him up to a seated position, back against the white cabinets. They sat next to each other, legs stretched out in front. “A few? Why am I just hearing about this now?”

Graham gave him a sideways glance with a smile. “Do you want to broadcast what just happened to you?”

“That would be a hard no.”

Graham leaned his head back against the cabinet and laughed. It was the second time today that his brother had laughed like this. This time, though, Beckett found himself laughing along.

Whatever tightness had been in his chest released in a glorious and unfettered way as he sat with his brother on the kitchen floor and laughed. Even as children, he couldn’t remember a time they had laughed so hard together. They must have, but he had no memory of it.

When he could speak again, Beckett studied Graham. “Forgive me for making assumptions, but you don’t seem stressed out. I can’t see you having a panic attack. You always seem so … happy.”

“I mostly am,” Graham said. “But I think we Van de Kamps are a little bit tightly wound. You and I in different ways, obviously. I mean, just look at our homes. You’ve got more of the OCD vibe going on and I’m more of a closet worrier. No one knows, but it’s there, hiding underneath like my dirty little secret.”

“I’m sorry. Both that you struggle with that and that I didn’t know.”

“Maybe we should talk more, brother.”

This whole visit had been a surprise. Laughing with Graham had been a boon, a surprising gift, especially after the terrifying panic attack he just went through. They had never been particularly close when they were younger, then even less so in the years between when Graham became a Christian and when Beckett did. Beckett knew that Graham had been disappointed that they hadn’t grown closer the past two years. He also made it clear on more than one occasion how he felt about Beckett’s spiritual progress, or lack thereof.

Beckett had been to church a few times with Graham and Courtney, but Sunday was often Beckett’s only non-working day and he spent it at home. He needed a day to be alone and just turn everything off. Whether it was his lack of church attendance or the fact that he didn’t try to connect with any of the other small groups, Beckett felt like Graham continued to pick at the different parts of his life that didn’t measure up to some standard. Whether that was God’s standard or Graham’s standard, Beckett wasn’t sure. But their relationship had suffered more after he became a Christian than before. This didn’t feel right, but he didn’t even know where to begin addressing it.

For a brief moment it was like some barrier had opened up between them, but Beckett could feel the seam closing back up. His normal stiff sense of control slipped back into place. It was a struggle to continue the conversation, but he pressed into it anyway. He didn’t know the way forward, but didn’t want to go back.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Beckett was unsure of which part of his life he meant. Maybe all of them.

Graham pushed his glasses up his nose. “Are you looking for advice? Or do you just want someone to listen? I’ve learned from my wife that it’s best to ask. Otherwise I’m giving her solutions she doesn’t want or just listening when she needs me to fix something. I think I’ve made that mistake with you before—trying to just tell you what to do. If I have, I’m sorry.”

“You have. But it’s okay. I’ll take whatever. I’d love to know how you manage panic attacks. Especially while looking like you have it all together.”

Graham snorted. “Do you think I have it all together?”

“Is that even a question? Yes. You have a wife and kids and you all seem happy. What isn’t together?”

“Let’s see … for starters, Courtney and I wanted to have another baby, but apparently we can’t. Which has been less than helpful in terms of our relationship and involved a lot of money, time, and disappointment when doctors couldn’t help. Logan has been diagnosed with dyslexia, so we’re figuring that out. Selena is having night terrors and can’t sleep, so we aren’t sleeping. It’s a picnic.”

Beckett didn’t let his shock show on his face. Studying his brother, he saw the dark circles under his eyes for the first time. With a closer look, Graham’s stress clearly showed through. And was he thinner? How long had he gone without noticing? Beckett hadn’t seen his father’s decline until recently and hadn’t noticed any changes in his brother. Was he that consumed with work that he hadn’t been really looking at the people in his life? The answer stared him in the face.

“I’m sorry. About all of it. Are you and Courtney okay?”

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