Pregnant With My Brother-in-law's Baby

The Way You Ended It All

The soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small, dimly lit examination room.

Emery Lane... no, Emery Prescott now, laid alone on the paper-covered table, her slender fingers twisting the hem of her pale blue blouse.

Her long chestnut-brown hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, the wispy curtain bangs framing her fair face with its natural rosy tone.

Her stormy eyes, usually soft and expressive, were wide with a mixture of fear and fragile hope as she stared at the black-and-white screen.

Doctor Maxwell adjusted the wand gently over Emery’s still-flat abdomen, her expression warm and professional. A small, flickering shape appeared, accompanied by a rapid, rhythmic whooshing sound that made Emery’s breath catch.

“There it is,” Doctor Maxwell said with a gentle smile. “Your pregnancy test was right, Mrs. Prescott. You’re pregnant.”

Emery’s eyes widened, her heart slamming against her ribcage. The word “pregnant” echoed in her mind like a sentence she hadn’t prepared for. She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “How… How far along?”

Doctor Maxwell studied the measurements on the screen, tilting her head slightly. “Umm, I’d say four to five weeks approximately.”

“Four to five weeks?” Emery repeated, her voice cracking. Her mind raced. She had only been married to Alexander for more than two weeks.

It could be his. Or....

That night. The night she had shared with Jesse right before the break he’d demanded. The night she had asked him to go public, and he had pushed her away instead.

She had kept her ovulation record. She was careful about that stuff. According to it, she ovulated before the wedding night. Which only meant one thing...

She was pregnant with her brother-in-law’s baby.

Her ex’s baby.

Emery’s hand instinctively moved to her abdomen, trembling. The room suddenly felt too small, the rhythmic heartbeat on the monitor too loud.

She forced a shaky smile, trying to keep her expression neutral while inside everything was unraveling. “Thank you, Doctor,” she murmured, though her thoughts were already spiraling toward the impossible secret she now carried.

×××××××

Flashback. A Week Before The Wedding

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding on the twenty-third floor of the discreet downtown hotel Emery had come to know far too well.

She stepped out into the hushed corridor, her slender frame wrapped in a simple coat over the modest work dress she’d worn all day.

She took the elevator to floor 12 and walked to the familiar door at the end of the hall and knocked softly.

It opened almost immediately.

Jesse Prescott stood there, fresh from the shower, dark brown hair still damp and tousled, light stubble shadowing his sharp jaw.

Tall and lean with an athletic build, he wore nothing but a white towel slung low on his hips.

His intense dark brown eyes locked onto hers, and just like every single time, he took her breath away.

She managed a small smile, but there was no warmth in it tonight.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Jesse’s mouth curved into that familiar, devastating smile. He reached for her, pulling her inside the room and closing the door behind them with a decisive click.

“Hello, love.” His voice was low, rough with want. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply, as if he could erase the distance he felt growing between them.

“I’ve been waiting. What took you so long?”

“I was… thinking about not coming,” she admitted.

Jesse chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her lips. “But you did anyway.”

He took her hand and led her toward the king-sized bed, his touch already urgent. “Jesse, I...” she began.

“I’ve been craving you all day, love,” he rasped, voice thick with desire. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

In one fluid motion he laid her down on the crisp sheets, his hands quick and practiced.

He pulled her trousers and panties down together, pushed her knees apart, and settled between her thighs.

His mouth found hers again in a searing kiss as he stripped off his towel. When he pressed against her entrance, bare and hot, she gasped.

“No protection tonight?” she whispered, surprised. He had always been careful before.

Jesse shook his head, eyes dark and intense. “No, honey bunch.” He kissed her again, slow and deep. “Not tonight.”

He entered her in one smooth thrust, filling her completely. Emery’s back arched, a broken moan escaping her lips.

He moved with familiar, devastating precision... deep, steady strokes that quickly had her trembling.

He held her thigh firmly, letting her shatter around him once, then again, drawing out every wave of pleasure until she was gasping his name. Only then did he let himself go, spilling inside her with a low, guttural groan.

Afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, breathing hard. Jesse caught her hand in his, playing with their intertwined fingers in the dim lamplight, tracing lazy patterns against her palm.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he murmured, turning his face toward her.

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on, love. Talk to me.”

She swallowed, her voice trembling on the edge of tears. “I’m just… tired.”

“Of?”

“Of this. The secrecy.”

Jesse’s jaw clenched. He sat up slowly. “I know it’s hard, Emery, but I just need a little more time—”

“You’ve been saying that for three years, Jesse.” Tears slipped down her temples as she pushed herself upright. She reached for her panties and trousers on the floor, hands shaking.

“Emery…” he leaned forward. “Don't cry, please. Don't cry. It tears me apart.”

“I just want to go home.”

“Emery, listen to me.” He grabbed her wrist gently but firmly.

She pulled away. “Jesse, please. Just call me when you’re done being a coward.”

He stared at her, hurt flashing across his face, then stood and yanked on his boxers and pants. “I’m a coward?” He walked around the bed to face her. “I’m trying to protect us!”

“From what?” she cried. “You’re making it worse by wasting time! You act like a stranger to me at the office all day, then call me here like this is all we’ll ever be. I’m tired of hiding, Jesse. I’m tired of being your secret.”

“You're tired, huh?” His voice rose. “You know what? I’m tired too. Of this phase you’ve been in for weeks... closed off, cold, looking at me like you don’t even see me anymore.”

“Because you break my heart, Jesse. And I don't want to do this secrecy anymore!”

“You promised you'd stand by me.”

“If standing by you means hiding for god knows how many years, I don't want to do it.”

“Then why don’t we take a break?”

Silence.

Emery gaped at him for three long seconds.

“A break?” She laughed bitterly, tears streaming now. “You’ll agree to a break, but not to telling the world the truth? You’re the heir to your family’s empire. They’ll find some perfect society match for you, marry you off, and I’ll still be watching from the sidelines! I’m done!”

She snatched her phone and bag from the chair.

“Emery, listen to me, I'm not marrying anyone else.”

“You need a break, right? Go ahead. Take as much time as you want. Hope you regret it when you lose me.”

“Emery!” he shouted as she headed for the door. “Emery!”

She didn’t look back.

Outside, the rain had started... cold, heavy sheets that soaked her coat in seconds.

Emery walked a few steps, then sank onto the wet pavement beside the hotel entrance, sobs wracking her slender frame.

She hugged her knees to her chest, rain mixing with her tears, the memory of his touch still burning on her skin while her heart shattered completely.

×××××××

The next morning, the sleek, glass-walled headquarters of Prescott Real Estate Enterprises hummed with its usual quiet efficiency.

Emery sat at her desk in the open-plan executive floor, trying desperately to focus on the quarterly report glowing on her screen. Her hair was pulled into a loose, slightly messy bun, a few soft waves escaping to frame her face.

The bangs did little to hide her red-rimmed, swollen eyes or the faint puffiness around them. Her fair skin was flushed an unnatural pink, and her slender hands trembled slightly as she typed, making small mistakes she had to delete over and over.

She looked like she had cried all night.

Jesse Prescott strode onto the floor, tall and lean in a tailored charcoal suit that accentuated his athletic build.

His dark brown hair was neatly styled, light stubble shadowing his jaw, and his intense dark brown eyes scanned the room with their usual commanding presence.

As Co-CEO, he commanded attention without even trying, but today his gaze locked immediately on Emery.

His chest tightened painfully.

She must have cried all night, he thought, the guilt hitting him like a punch. Those stormy eyes that had once looked at him with so much warmth and trust were now deliberately averted, fixed on her monitor as if he didn’t exist.

He slowed his steps near her desk, heart aching at the sight of her fragile beauty cracked open like this. The memory of her tears, her broken voice calling him a coward, replayed in his mind on loop.

“Emery,” he said quietly, voice low enough that only she could hear.

She didn’t look up. Her fingers stilled on the keyboard for a split second, then resumed typing with forced determination. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye before she could blink it away; she quickly wiped it with the back of her trembling hand.

Jesse’s jaw clenched. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms right there in the middle of the office and tell her the break was a stupid mistake, that he couldn’t breathe without her. But the rules they’d lived by for three years still held him back like invisible chains.

He leaned one hand on the edge of her desk, close enough that he could smell the faint floral scent of her shampoo. “You look like you didn’t sleep,” he murmured, the words rough with concern he had no right to show in public. “Are you… okay?”

Emery finally lifted her gaze, stormy eyes meeting his for the briefest moment. The hurt in them was raw, unguarded. She looked away again almost immediately, focusing on the papers in front of her as if they were the most important thing in the world.

“I’m fine, Mr. Prescott,” she replied, her voice steady but too soft, the same distant tone she used with every other executive. Her hands shook harder as she shuffled a folder. “Just a long night. Nothing that affects my work.”

The formal address stung worse than any slap. Jesse straightened, his intense eyes darkening with regret and something fiercer... possessiveness he couldn’t quite bury.

He wanted to tell her right then that the break was over, that he’d been an idiot, that he’d fix everything. But the office buzzed around them: colleagues typing, phones ringing, Alexander’s calm voice carrying from the glass-walled CEO office at the far end of the floor.

Jesse lingered a second longer, his lean frame tense. “If you need anything…” he started, the words heavy with everything he couldn’t say aloud.

“I don’t,” Emery cut in quietly, her rosy cheeks flushing deeper. She swallowed hard, forcing her trembling hands still. “Thank you.”

He nodded once, sharp and reluctant, then forced himself to walk away toward his own office. But his heart stayed behind with her... aching, possessive, already regretting the break he’d suggested in anger.

Emery watched his retreating back from the corner of her eye, biting the inside of her cheek until it hurt. The secret night they’d shared, the feel of him without protection, the argument that had ended everything… it all pressed down on her chest like a weight she couldn’t breathe around.

Little did she know, the consequences of that night were already growing inside her.

×××××××