Chapter 11
Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You can’t afford me now
Chapter 11:
Hadleyâs eyes began to brim with tears.
Family? Friends? She had no oneâ¦
Yet now she was a mother and could not ignore her obligations, as if she were irresponsible.
Rummaging through her bag, she retrieved her phone.
She called Eric.
The phone echoed unanswered rings.
At last, the call was picked up.
âEricâ¦â
âHello?â
It was Lindaâs voice that responded, smooth and slightly mocking.
âIs this Hadley? Do you need Eric? Heâs unavailable at the moment. But feel free to talk to me,â Linda continued, her voice carrying a hint of provocation.
Could Linda truly offer assistance?
Didnât Linda harbor resentment toward her?
At this point, however, Hadley had no room for such concerns.
Options were non-existent for her.
With swallowed pride, Hadley hesitated, then said,
âI was wondering if he might⦠possibly help with some financial support?â
She framed her request carefully, not as charity but as a loan.
âPlease, I promise to repay it as soon as possible!â
âUnderstood,â Linda responded, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. âIâll pass on the message. Bye.â
âThankâ¦â
Cððck âuthorâs âoð¹ð hðrð: gâ²ð ððνðð ðâ«·ð¬ððº
Hadleyâs words of gratitude were cut short as the line went dead.
Clutching her phone, she felt a knot of anxiety tighten within her. Could Eric possibly extend the financial help? Perhaps for Nylaâs sake, or given their unresolved divorce⦠He would help, right?
Yet, as days passed by, no help arrived for Hadley.
Two days later, there she was, standing outside the hospital, cradling her baby and a bag.
Eviction had come due to unpaid bills.
She looked up, squinting against the harsh winter sun, tears rolling down her cheeks.
âDonât cry, Hadley.â
Her lip quivered as she bit down hard.
âWhy should you cry? Youâre a mother now. Youâve got a child to care for! No time for tears!â
Nevertheless, she found herself poor, her previous home lost to the fire, with no place left to go.
Two weeks had passed.
Hurrying down the sidewalk, Hadley held her baby close.
.
.
.