The Sick Uncle
Hours later, the doctor finally emerged from the ICU. The small group, Judith, Emery, Jesse, and Ivy, stood up immediately, faces tight with worry.
“Mr. Bramwell is stable now,” the doctor said, voice calm but serious.
“It was a significant heart attack, but we were able to stabilize him. He’s out of immediate danger, though it was a big blow to his system.
He’ll need rest, medication, and careful monitoring for the next few weeks.
No stress. We’re keeping him overnight for observation. ”
Emery let out a shaky breath, shoulders sagging with relief. Fresh tears slipped down her cheeks, but this time they were mixed with gratitude.
“Thank you, Doctor,” Judith whispered, voice trembling as she clutched Emery’s hand.
Jesse stepped forward. “Can we see him?”
“Not tonight,” the doctor replied. “He needs rest. You can visit tomorrow morning.”
As the doctor walked away, Jesse turned to Emery. His voice was gentle, but firm with concern.
“Come home with me,” he said quietly. “You need to rest. You’ve been through too much today.”
Emery shook her head, wiping her tears. “I should stay with Aunt Judith.”
Ivy stepped in, placing a hand on Emery’s shoulder. “I’ll stay with her tonight. You go home and get some sleep. You’re pregnant. You can’t push yourself like this.”
Emery hesitated, but the exhaustion in her body won out. She nodded reluctantly.
Jesse led her out of the hospital in silence. They got into his SUV, and he started the drive back to the Prescott house. The city lights blurred past the windows.
After a few minutes of heavy quiet, Jesse spoke.
“You didn’t tell me Harold Bramwell was your uncle.”
Emery kept her gaze fixed on the passing streets. “Why should I have told you? If you knew, would you suddenly have had more guts to tell the world about me?”
Jesse shook his head, voice pained. “What are you talking about? I just… We dated for three years and you never once mentioned it.”
Emery finally turned to look at him, her stormy eyes tired and guarded. “I wanted you to love me for me. Not because of who my uncle was or what family I came from.”
Jesse exhaled slowly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “You know that’s not what I mean—”
“Can you please be quiet?” Emery cut in, voice soft but exhausted. “I have a headache.”
Jesse nodded immediately, lips pressing into a thin line. He didn’t speak again for the rest of the drive.
The car filled with heavy silence. Emery leaned her head against the window, one hand resting protectively on her stomach, while Jesse stole glances at her every few seconds, his heart aching with everything he couldn’t say.
When they finally pulled up to the Prescott house, Jesse killed the engine but didn’t move to get out right away.
Emery unbuckled her seatbelt. “Thank you for the ride.”
She opened the door and stepped out without waiting for a reply.
Jesse watched her walk toward the entrance, the weight of her words and the day’s events pressing down on him like never before.
×××××××
Alexander had been distracted ever since he returned from Ohio. He moved through the house with his usual composed efficiency, answering questions politely, but there was a noticeable distance in his eyes and a tightness in his shoulders that hadn't been there during their late-night phone calls.
Emery slipped into bed first, pulling the gray duvet up to her chest. The bedroom felt larger and colder tonight, the recessed lighting dimmed to a soft glow. Alexander emerged from the bathroom in his lounge clothes and climbed into bed on his side, keeping a careful space between them.
“How is Harold?” he asked quietly, staring up at the ceiling.
Emery turned her head slightly toward him. “The doctor said he’s stable now, but it was a big blow. He needs complete rest and no stress for the next few weeks. They’re keeping him overnight for observation.”
Alexander fell quiet for a long moment, the silence stretching between them like a thin wire.
“Why did he have a heart attack all of a sudden?” he finally asked.
Emery’s voice was soft. “Aunt Judith said Camilla came back… and he became furious. He started shouting about how she humiliated everyone and forced me into the marriage. Then he collapsed.”
Alexander clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking visibly. “Yeah… seeing her after what happened… it would’ve been difficult.”
Emery nodded, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “I will go visit him. You can come too.”
“Alright,” Alexander said.
“How was your trip? You didn’t really talk much since you came back.”
Alexander sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. “It was good. Long meetings, same old negotiations. Nothing exciting.” He reached over and switched off the lamp on his side, plunging the room into darkness. “Can you turn off the lamp?”
Emery had already done so on her side. She lay back against the pillows, the duvet pulled up to her chin.
“Good night, Alexander.”
“Sleep well,” he replied, his voice calm and even as he settled down on his side of the bed.
The room fell into complete silence.
Emery stared into the darkness, one hand resting lightly on her stomach. The man who had called her every night with quiet concern now felt like a polite stranger lying beside her.
The softness from those phone calls had vanished the moment he stepped back into the house. She told herself it didn’t matter, but the contrast stung more than she expected.
On the other side of the bed, Alexander remained awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling, his mind clearly elsewhere.
Neither of them spoke again that night.
×××××××
The next morning, Emery, Alexander, and Jesse arrived at the hospital together. The waiting room outside the ICU was quiet, the air thick with the sterile smell of antiseptic. Judith was already inside visiting Harold, so the three of them sat down to wait.
Emery’s eyes widened the moment she spotted Camilla sitting in the far corner of the waiting room, looking composed but detached, scrolling through her phone.
Alexander stopped dead in his tracks, his calm expression cracking for the first time in days. “Camilla?”
Camilla looked up, her face shifting into a soft, surprised smile. “Alexander… Emery. I didn’t expect to see you both here.”
Emery recovered first and walked over, her voice gentle despite the tension. “Camilla… how are you? I heard you came back. Are you okay? We were all so worried when you disappeared.”
Camilla shrugged lightly, her tone casual, almost bored. “I’m fine. It was a mess with Jake, but I handled it. I’m back now. Dad’s the one who needs attention, I suppose.”
Emery frowned slightly at the lack of concern in her cousin’s voice. “We’re here for Uncle Harold. Aunt Judith said he was furious.”
Camilla waved a hand dismissively. “He always overreacts. I just wanted to see him. It’s not like I planned to give him a heart attack.”
Alexander remained silent, observing the exchange with his usual composure, but Jesse’s sharp eyes narrowed. He noticed how Camilla’s tone lacked any real worry for her father... it was all surface-level, almost annoyed.
Before anyone could say more, a nurse approached. “Mrs. Prescott? You can go in now. Mr. Bramwell is asking for you.”
Emery nodded, giving everyone a small, polite nod. “I’ll be back soon.”
She walked toward the ICU doors, leaving the waiting room behind.
Seconds later, Jesse’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and stood up. “I need to take this. I’ll be right outside.”
Now it was only Alexander and Camilla in the waiting area.
Camilla shifted closer to him on the bench, her voice dropping into a soft, intimate tone. She placed a gentle hand on his forearm, fingers tracing lightly over the fabric of his sleeve.
“Alexander… I’ve missed you,” she whispered, eyes glistening with practiced vulnerability.
“Running away was the biggest mistake of my life. I thought about you every single day while I was gone. You were always so kind, so steady. Jake was a nightmare, but being away made me realize what I lost when I left you at the altar.”
She leaned in a little closer, her perfume subtle but inviting. “I know you’re married now. I know about the baby. But… can we at least talk? Just the two of us? I feel something for you. Something real. Don’t you feel it too?”
Alexander remained still, his calm, observant eyes studying her face. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t lean in either.
“Camilla,” he said quietly, “things are complicated now.”
She smiled softly, her fingers giving his arm a gentle squeeze. “I know. But life is full of complications. We can figure it out… slowly. I’m not asking for anything you’re not ready to give. Just… don’t shut me out completely.”
Her voice was a velvet whisper, seductive in its vulnerability, designed to pull at old heartstrings.
Alexander didn’t respond right away, but the faint tension in his shoulders suggested her words had landed exactly where she wanted them to.
Meanwhile, down the hall, Emery sat beside her uncle’s bed, holding his hand, completely unaware that the woman who had upended their lives was once again trying to weave herself back into Alexander’s.
×××××××
The hospital waiting area was quiet, filled with the low hum of conversations and the occasional beep of machines.
Emery sat on a padded bench, chatting softly with an elderly woman beside her. The woman had a cheerful face, silver hair pinned neatly, and sharp eyes that had immediately noticed the subtle signs of pregnancy even though Emery was only eleven weeks along and barely showing.
“You’re glowing, dear,” the woman said with a knowing smile. “Eleven weeks? My, my. I’ve had six of my own. I can spot it a mile away. Experience, you know.”
Emery smiled shyly, hand resting lightly on her stomach. “Really? It’s still so early.”
“Oh yes. The way you hold yourself, that little protective hand on your belly. Classic. Now, listen... for the nausea, try ginger tea with a pinch of salt. Old remedy, but it works wonders. And if your ankles start swelling, soak them in warm water with Epsom salt. My grandmother swore by it.”
Emery nodded gratefully. “Thank you. I’ll try the ginger tea. It’s been rough some mornings.”
The woman patted her knee. “You’ll be just fine. First baby?”
Emery’s cheeks flushed. “Yes.”
At that moment, Jesse appeared from the hospital café, carrying a small paper bag and a cup of green tea. He placed them gently on the table in front of Emery.
“Alright, love. Congratulations on the little one,” the elderly woman said warmly to Emery, then glanced at Jesse with a twinkling smile. “I can already tell the baby is going to be beautiful.” She looked between the two of them meaningfully.
Emery’s cheeks burned brighter. Jesse looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Thank you,” Emery murmured. She turned to the woman. “It was lovely talking to you.”
As the woman waved goodbye and moved on, Emery picked up the muffin and took a small bite. Jesse sat down beside her, leaving a careful distance.
“I want to pee,” she said quietly after a moment.
“Finish that first and we can go,” he replied gently.
Emery ate slowly, the muffin tasting better than she expected. After a few bites, she glanced at Jesse.
“Did you notice Camilla?” she asked.
Jesse nodded, his voice low. “Yeah. Her attitude was… weird. She didn’t seem worried about her father at all. More like she was annoyed he caused a scene.”
Emery frowned, swallowing another bite. “Exactly. She talked about him like he was an inconvenience. Like his heart attack was just an interruption to whatever she’s doing. It was so cold.”
Jesse exhaled, leaning forward with elbows on his knees. “I know. There was no real guilt, no concern for the family she left behind. It’s like the humiliation she caused her family doesn’t even register.”
Emery nodded slowly, her stormy eyes distant. “It felt wrong. Like she’s only back for something she wants, not because she cares. But Alexander… he didn’t seem to notice.”
Jesse stayed quiet for a beat, then said softly, “Yeah. He’s always been the one who tries to see the good in people. But Camilla’s attitude today was off. It’s like she’s playing a part.”
Emery finished the last bite of the muffin and set the wrapper down. She shifted uncomfortably, pressing a hand to her lower back.
“I want something salty,” she said quietly. “The muffin was good, but… suddenly I’m craving something salty.”
Jesse stood up without hesitation. “I’ll get you something. Pickles? Chips? Anything specific?”
“Pickles would be nice,” she murmured.
He nodded and headed back toward the café. A few minutes later he returned with a small container of dill pickles and a fresh bottle of water.
“Here,” he said, placing them in front of her. “Eat slowly.”
Emery took the container, a tiny, grateful smile touching her lips despite everything. “Thank you.”
Jesse sat back down beside her, the space between them still careful, but the small act of care hanging in the air like a fragile bridge neither of them was ready to cross.
×××××××