Chapter 4 - The House on Beacon Hill
The black Mercedes Maybach pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the Beacon Hill estate just as the rain turned into a soft, dusting snow.
The mansion sat behind a high brick wall, a stunning four-story Georgian townhouse built in the 1890s, surrounded by ancient oak trees and manicured winter gardens.
As the car stopped, the front doors of the estate opened, and two staff members in dark coats hurried out with black umbrellas to shield the passengers from the cold damp air.
Garrett stepped out first, carefully cradling Oliver, who was beginning to stir, rubbing his small eyes against Garrett’s collar.
"Master Garrett," the butler, an elderly man named Arthur with silver hair and warm blue eyes, said as he held the umbrella. "Welcome home, sir. We were notified by Ms. Margot that you were arriving with... guests."
Arthur’s eyes drifted to Paige as she stepped out of the Maybach, and a soft, genuine smile broke across the old man’s face.
"Ms. Henley," Arthur said, bowing his head respectfully. "It is a profound joy to see you again. The house has been very dark without you."
Paige smiled weakly, her cheeks flushing. "Hello, Arthur. It’s good to see you."
"And who is this young gentleman?" Arthur asked softly, looking at Oliver.
Oliver peeked over Garrett’s shoulder, his small hand clutching Garrett’s coat tightly. "I’m Ollie. I rode in a giant metal bird."
Arthur let out a quiet, delighted chuckle. "A giant metal bird indeed, Master Oliver. Well, we have hot cocoa and fresh gingerbread waiting in the drawing room for brave bird-riders."
Oliver’s hazel eyes lit up instantly. "Gingerbread?!"
Garrett laughed—a rich, deep sound that Paige hadn't heard in four long years. "See that, Ollie? Arthur knows the secret to flying."
They walked inside, the heavy oak doors closing behind them, sealing out the freezing Boston rain.
The interior of the house was breathtaking. High ceilings with restored plaster moldings, warm hardwood floors covered in thick Persian rugs, massive stone fireplaces crackling with roaring wood fires, and walls lined with rare artwork and classical literature.
It was luxurious, but it didn't feel like a cold corporate penthouse. It felt warm. It felt lived-in. It felt like... a home.
Garrett led them up the grand curved staircase to the second floor, stopping outside a set of double white doors.
"This is the nursery," Garrett said softly, pushing the doors open.
Paige stepped inside, and her breath caught in her throat.
The room was massive, flooded with soft natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the rear garden. The walls were painted a soft, soothing sage green, decorated with hand-painted murals of forest animals and starry skies. In the center sat a handcrafted oak crib that converted into a toddler bed, surrounded by shelves stacked with hundreds of children’s books, high-end wooden toys, and a miniature indoor slide.
It wasn't built yesterday. It had been maintained for years, dusted, cared for, waiting.
Oliver gasped, squirming out of Garrett’s arms and dropping onto his feet. "Look at the slide! Mama, look!"
He ran straight toward the wooden slide, his small sneakers squeaking against the polished floorboards, completely forgetting his fear of the big house.
Paige walked slowly around the room, running her fingers over the smooth wood of the bookshelf. She pulled down an old leather-bound copy of Where the Wild Things Are—her favorite childhood book.
She turned to Garrett, who was standing in the doorway, watching her with an anxious, vulnerable expression.
"You really built this three years ago?" Paige whispered.
"Two months after you left," Garrett confessed, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. "I hired an interior designer and told her to make a room that looked like a place where a child would feel safe. I didn't even know if you were pregnant, Paige. It was just... a ghost I couldn't stop chasing."
Paige set the book back on the shelf, her chest tightening with an overwhelming ache. "Garrett... why didn't you look harder for me?"
"I looked everywhere!" Garrett said, stepping into the room, his voice strained. "I put private investigators on three continents! But you vanished, Paige. You used cash, you didn't open new bank accounts under your social security number for six months, you moved three times..."
"I was running from you," Paige admitted softly, looking down at her hands. "I was terrified that if you found out about the baby, your lawyers would take him from me. I thought you would use your billions to prove I was an unfit mother because of the Chicago scandal."
Garrett felt like he’d been punched in the throat.
He stepped across the room, stopping inches from her, reaching out to gently take both her hands in his.
"I would never," Garrett whispered fiercely, tears welling in his eyes. "I would rather tear down every building I own with my bare hands than take a child away from his mother. Especially you, Paige. Never."
Paige looked up into his hazel eyes—the eyes she had loved, the eyes that had broken her heart, the eyes that were currently staring down at her with pure, unadulterated devotion.
"I miss you, Garrett," she admitted, a tear finally slipping down her nose. "I missed you every single day."
Garrett lifted his hand, his thumb gently catching the tear before it could fall. "I’m right here, Paige. I’m not going anywhere ever again."
"Mama! Look at me!" Oliver shouted, zooming down the wooden slide with a loud squeal, landing on his bottom on a plush white rug. "I did it!"
Garrett and Paige both turned, breaking into matching smiles as their son clapped his small hands in victory.
"That was amazing, Ollie!" Garrett called out, walking over to lift the toddler into the air, tossing him gently before setting him on his shoulders.
Oliver giggled hysterically, clutching Garrett’s hair. "Again! Do it again, Daddy!"
Garrett looked up at his son sitting on his shoulders, then back at Paige, who was watching them with a warm, tearful smile.
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The corporate wars, the board meetings, the $62 million acquisition—they felt a million miles away.
Garrett Brennan was home.
