His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 139: Beatrice Breakdown

Chapter 139- Beatrice's Breakdown

Beatrice POV

I was pacing. I had been pacing for hours. My feet hurt, but I couldn't stop. I looked at the time again.

It was past midnight.

Where the hell was Tyler?

I thought maybe he just needed some space. Maybe he was angry and would come home once he cooled off. But the more the minutes passed, the more my chest tightened. My heart was beating too fast. My hands were shaking.

He wasn't home.

He still hadn't come back.

"Tyler..." I whispered to myself, looking at the front door like he'd magically walk through it if I said his name enough.

I was wrong. I had messed up. And now, my son was gone.

I thought he'd understand. I thought he would see that I didn't mean for this to happen.

But no. Tyler was furious.

He had every right to be.

I gave everything—everything—to that bloody bastard. All our savings. Our only hope. And he disappeared. Just like that.

I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was helping us. I thought he loved me.

I even believed his name was Dave.

But he wasn't even fucking Dave.

He wasn't Dave.

He wasn't anyone. Just a scammer with a fake name, fake smile, and fake promises. And I fell for it like a fool.

How didn't I know that he was one of Declan guards?

How didn't I fucking know ?

How was I supposed to explain this? How could I even begin to look Declan in the eye and say, "Hey, remember that money you gave me? Yeah. I fell in love with guy who I thought love me but I ended up finding out that he is your guard and he ran away with the money you gave me."

Declan was going to kill me.

And maybe I deserved it.

I sat on the couch for a few seconds and buried my face in my hands. My hair was a complete mess, sticking out in all directions. I looked like a mad woman. Maybe I was going mad.

I had no idea where to start. No money. No Tyler. No plan.

I told Tyler we'd run away. I told him I'd get us out of this hell. But he didn't believe me.

He looked at me like I was the enemy.

Like I was no longer his mother.

Did he forget? Did he forget who raised him? Who stood by him when that bastard Declan walked out of our lives? Who fed him when there was no food? Who worked two jobs just so he could have a school uniform?

But now, one mistake... and he left.

He packed up his bags and walked out like I was nothing.

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I couldn't sleep. I didn't even try.

My mind was spinning.

I didn't know what scared me more—the money being gone or my son being gone.

He was all I had.

I pulled my phone from my robe pocket with trembling fingers and dialed 911. My heart thudded in my ears as the phone rang.

"911, what's your emergency?" the calm voice of the operator said.

"My son," I breathed heavily, "My son is missing."

"Okay, ma'am. Please try to calm down. Can you tell me your name and where you're calling from?"

"My name is Beatrice... Beatrice Collins," I said, trying not to cry. "I'm calling from East Hampton. Please, I need help."

"Okay, Beatrice. When was the last time you saw your son?"

"Earlier today," I said quickly. "He left the house and hasn't come back since. He's not answering my calls. I've tried everything. I'm really scared."

"Alright. Can you tell me if anything happened before he left? Was there any argument or event that might've triggered his leaving?"

I froze. I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to say it out loud.

But I had to.

"Yes," I whispered, "We had a... a misunderstanding. I—I got scammed. I trusted someone, and they took all our savings. Tyler was angry. Really angry. He said I betrayed him."

"I understand," the operator said gently. "I'm very sorry to hear that. Now, just to clarify—has it been more than 24 hours since he's been missing?"

"No," I said quickly. "But I know something's wrong. Please. I know my son. He wouldn't stay out this long without saying anything. He wouldn't leave me like this."

"I understand your concern, Beatrice. But unfortunately, we cannot file an official missing person report until it's been at least 24 hours unless there's strong evidence of immediate danger."

"What do you mean 24 hours?!" I snapped, my voice breaking. "He's all I have. He's my baby. My only child! And you're telling me I have to wait?! What if something happens to him in that time?! What if—what if he's hurt or—or lost?!"

"I know it's difficult, ma'am, but those are the guidelines. He might be angry and trying to clear his head. A lot of young adults do that. There's a high chance he'll come back soon."

I couldn't listen anymore.

"You're useless," I muttered and hung up before they could say another word.

I dropped the phone and stared at the wall, breathing hard.

My son was out there. Angry. Hurt. Alone.

And it was all my fault.

I screamed and threw my phone across the living room, watching it bounce and land near the wall.

"Useless! Useless! Useless!" I shouted like I was losing my mind—because maybe I was.

Tears burned the corners of my eyes, and my heart was beating like it wanted to burst out of my chest.

But then I paused.

What if the phone broke?

I rushed over to pick it up, gripping it with shaky hands.

This phone was the last thing I had left.

No money.

No savings.

No man.

No son.

No job because I had to quit my job thinking everything is going to go very well.

If this phone spoils now, then that's it. That would be the last straw.