How Much More Pain?
The sports room smelled strongly of leather and polished wood. Black leather couches lined one wall, and the dark wood flooring gleamed under the recessed lighting.
In one corner stood Ivy’s acoustic guitar on its stand, while Alexander’s golf clubs were arranged neatly like decorative pieces against the opposite wall.
Jesse lay sprawled on his back across the green felt of the pool table, wearing only a black sleeveless vest that clung to his frame, exposing the curve of his shoulders and the defined lines of his arms and chest. He absentmindedly twisted a Rubik’s cube between his fingers, solving and scrambling it without really seeing it.
The door opened. Ivy stepped in, looking for her guitar, and paused when she saw her twin.
“Still brooding, huh?” she asked lightly, walking over to pick up the guitar.
Jesse sighed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “What else do you want me to do after what happened?”
Ivy sat down on one of the leather couches, cradling the guitar in her lap. She gently plucked a single string, letting the soft note linger in the air.
“You made the right choice sending her to her uncle’s house for a few days,” she said. “She really needed to escape the trauma Harper put her through.”
Jesse nodded slowly, still staring upward. “Harper should be thankful Emery forgave her. Or Harold would’ve made sure she ended up in a jail cell.”
Ivy nodded, fingers resting on the strings. “Poor Emery… she’s going through so much. Carrying the heartbreak and the trauma of this forced marriage, then a baby on top of all that.” Her voice softened. “Honestly, it breaks my heart every time she throws up and can’t eat anything.”
Jesse exhaled heavily and sat up, legs dangling off the edge of the pool table. The Rubik’s cube rested forgotten in his hand.
“That’s not the only thing bothering her,” he said quietly.
Ivy frowned. “There’s more?”
Jesse looked at her, eyes heavy with exhaustion and pain. “She told me she’s sure the child isn’t Alexander’s.”
Ivy’s fingers froze on the guitar strings. Her eyes widened in shock. “Then who…?”
She stared at him for a long beat as realization dawned.
“Oh my God!” She stood up abruptly, guitar still in her arms. “You’re kidding me! The baby is yours?”
Jesse nodded slowly, the movement heavy.
“Oh my God, this is horrible,” Ivy whispered, sinking back onto the couch.
Jesse shook his head, voice thick with guilt. “She’s going to flip if it’s confirmed. How much more pain can I put her through?”
Ivy set the guitar aside and moved closer, sitting on the edge of the pool table beside him. She studied her twin’s devastated face for a long moment.
“Jesse… you need to have a DNA test done soon,” she said gently but firmly.
“As early as it’s safe. You both need to know the truth so you can be prepared for whatever comes next.
Whether the baby is yours or Alexander’s, this secret is going to come out eventually.
The longer you wait, the more it will destroy everyone involved. .. especially Emery.”
Jesse stared at the floor, shoulders slumped. “I know. But the moment we confirm it… everything changes. If it’s mine…” His voice cracked. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to watch her raise my child as Alexander’s. And if it’s his… I lose her forever anyway.”
Ivy placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “That’s why you need to know now. So you can figure out how to face it together or at least stop torturing yourselves with uncertainty.”
Jesse didn’t reply. He simply closed his eyes, the weight of the future pressing down on him harder than ever.
The sports room fell quiet again, the only sound the faint creak of the leather couch as Ivy sat beside her broken brother, both of them knowing the storm was only just beginning.
×××××××
The Bramwell estate felt both familiar and distant as Emery wandered through the old playroom on the second floor.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Most of the room had been left untouched since she moved out years ago.
She knelt beside a wooden chest in the corner and lifted the lid.
Inside were remnants of her childhood... a few worn stuffed animals, a small music box with a faded ballerina, and a soft knitted blanket she used to carry everywhere.
Her fingers brushed over a well-loved teddy bear with one missing eye and a faded blue ribbon around its neck.
A soft, bittersweet smile touched her lips.
She carefully gathered the teddy bear, the music box, and the blanket, folding them gently into a small bag she had brought with her.
Sitting down on the old window seat, she placed a hand over her still-flat stomach and spoke softly to the baby growing inside her.
“Hey, little one,” she whispered, voice warm and gentle despite the tears gathering in her stormy eyes. “Look what I found… these were mine when I was a little girl.”
She lifted the teddy bear, turning it so the baby could “see” it.
“This one used to sleep with me every night. He kept all my secrets and wiped away so many tears. I thought… maybe one day, when you’re here, I could give him to you. So you’ll have something from Mommy’s childhood.”
She pressed the bear gently against her abdomen, as if letting the baby feel it.
“And this blanket… I used to wrap myself in it when the world felt too big. It’s a little old and frayed now, but it’s full of love. I want you to have it too.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, but her voice remained soft and full of quiet wonder.
“I don’t know what kind of world I’m bringing you into, sweetheart. It’s complicated and sometimes scary. But I promise you this... you will be loved. So, so loved. Even if everything else is messy, you will never doubt how much your mommy wants you.”
She rocked gently on the window seat, holding the childhood treasures close to her heart.
“I can’t wait to meet you,” she whispered. “I can’t wait to hold you and tell you all the stories about these old toys. You’re going to be the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Outside, the sun continued to shine, bathing the room in golden light. Inside, Emery sat surrounded by pieces of her past, dreaming of a future she hoped her child could one day cherish, no matter how difficult the road ahead might be.
×××××××
The upscale café near the Prescott building was quiet in the mid-morning lull.
Rebecca sat across from Francesca at a corner table, both women sipping lattes. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, highlighting Francesca’s perfectly styled hair and designer outfit.
Rebecca leaned forward slightly, her voice low and conspiratorial.
“You need to be more proactive, Francesca. Jesse is stubborn, but he’s not immune to a beautiful, intelligent woman who knows what she wants.
Go to his office. Surprise him. Make him talk to you.
Ask about his day, his projects... show genuine interest. Men like Jesse respond to persistence when it’s wrapped in elegance. ”
Francesca smiled sweetly, but her eyes gleamed with something sharper, more predatory. She stirred her latte slowly, red nails tapping against the spoon.
“I’ll do that,” she purred. “I’ll drop by this afternoon. Maybe wear a sexy dress. I’ll lean over his desk just enough to remind him what he’s missing… and what I can offer.”
Rebecca nodded approvingly, completely missing the calculated hunger in Francesca’s tone. “Exactly. Be charming. Be available. He needs to see that you’re the kind of woman who can stand beside a Prescott man... not like that little replacement currently warming Alexander’s bed.”
Francesca’s smile widened, but it was sharp at the edges.
“Oh, don’t worry about her. She’s just temporary.
Once Jesse realizes what a real woman can bring to the table, someone with the right background, the right ambition, and the willingness to do whatever it takes to keep him satisfied, he and Alexander will forget all about her.
And we can find a better match for our CEO too. ”
She leaned back, crossing her legs slowly, her voice dropping into a sultry whisper. “I know how to make a man feel like a king in public… and like a god in private. Jesse won’t know what hit him.”
Rebecca smiled, pleased with the girl’s confidence, seeing only ambition and poise where there was clear opportunism and seduction.
“Good. That’s exactly the attitude we need.
Push a little. Make him imagine a future with you.
Marriage, children, the whole legacy. The Prescotts need stability right now, and you’re perfect for it. ”
Francesca reached across the table and gave Rebecca’s hand a gentle squeeze, her touch lingering just a second too long. “Leave it to me, Mrs. Prescott. By the end of the week, Jesse will be the one calling me.”
Rebecca nodded, satisfied. “I knew I could count on you.”
As Francesca stood to leave, she adjusted her dress with deliberate care, ensuring the neckline dipped just enough to draw attention. She gave Rebecca one last charming smile before walking out, hips swaying with practiced allure.
Rebecca watched her go, completely unaware that the “perfect match” she was pushing on her son was far more interested in power, money, and climbing the social ladder than in genuine affection for Jesse.
×××××××
Jesse had just turned off the lights and was about to climb into bed when his phone rang. The screen lit up with her name.
Emery.
His heart slammed against his ribs. He answered on the first ring, voice bright with surprised hope.
“Emery, hey! How are you?”
Silence stretched on the other end, long enough that his smile began to fade.
“Emery…?” he tried again, softer this time.
Finally, her voice came through, quiet and steady, but carrying an unmistakable weight.
“Jesse… I need to have a DNA test.”
The words landed like a stone in still water.
Jesse sat up straighter against the headboard, the cheer draining from his tone instantly. “Okay… I’m listening.”
“I inquired,” she continued, almost mechanically. “We can do it at ten weeks. I’m nine weeks now, so… I want you to accompany me.”
Jesse closed his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. His free hand tightened around the phone until his knuckles turned white.
The reality of what she was asking, the confirmation they both feared and desperately needed, settled heavily in his chest.
“Alright,” he said softly, voice rough with emotion. “I’ll go with you. Whenever you want. Just tell me the date and time.”
Silence again.
Then Emery spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”
Jesse wanted to say so much more. He wanted to ask how she was really feeling, if she was scared, if she was hoping for the same impossible thing he was. Instead, he kept his tone careful.
“Emery… are you okay? With all of this?”
A long pause.
“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “I’m terrified. But I need to know the truth. I can’t keep living like this, wondering every single day whose baby I’m carrying while pretending everything is fine.”
Jesse’s throat tightened. “I’m scared too,” he confessed, voice cracking just slightly. “But whatever the result is… I’ll be there. I promise.”
Emery let out a shaky breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jesse.”
“I’m not,” he said, almost pleading. “Not this time.”
Another heavy silence stretched between them.
“Goodnight, Jesse,” she finally whispered.
The line went dead.
Jesse lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen for a long moment. He sat there in the darkness of his room, heart pounding, mind racing with every possible future they might be facing.
In a few short weeks, they would know the truth.
And nothing would ever be the same again.
×××××××