Cant Tell The World
The bedroom was dimly lit, only a single bedside lamp casting a soft glow.
Alexander lay propped against the headboard, staring blankly at the opposite wall. His face was still badly bruised: the swelling around his left eye had gone down slightly, but the purple and yellow marks remained vivid reminders of the attack. He hadn't moved much in the last hour.
The door opened quietly.
Emery stepped inside carrying a warm glass of milk. She walked over to the bed and gently placed it on the nightstand beside him.
"Here," she said softly. "You should drink this. Your wounds are healing slowly, but the doctor said milk with turmeric will help with the inflammation."
Alexander didn't reply. His gaze remained distant, unfocused.
Emery hesitated, then sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, close enough to see the exhaustion etched into his features.
"Alexander?" she asked gently. "What is it?"
He sighed deeply and shook his head. "Nothing, Emery."
She didn't move. "Tell me."
Alexander exhaled again, longer this time, as if the weight on his chest was too heavy to carry alone anymore.
"I'm an asshole," he said quietly.
Emery tilted her head, brows furrowing. "Why would you say that?"
He turned his head slightly to look at her, his voice low and full of self-loathing.
"I let Camilla fool me. I believed every single one of her lies. I let her back into my life... and I slept with her." He swallowed hard. "I feel pathetic."
Emery's expression softened with understanding, not judgment. She reached out and lightly touched his arm.
"No, Alexander. It's not like that," she said gently. "You loved her for years. She was your first love. When she came back crying and saying all those things... she took advantage of that love. Of your pain. Mistakes can be forgiven, especially when someone uses your feelings against you."
Alexander searched her face, surprised by her kindness. "You really think so? Because I feel so bad for what I did to you. I was cold. I was rude. I suspected you of the worst things when all you've done is try to survive in this mess I helped create."
Emery offered him a small, warm smile. "You can apologize."
Alexander pressed his lips together, then nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry, Emery," he said, voice sincere. "I'm truly sorry for how I treated you. For believing Camilla over you. For making you feel small in your own home. I'll try to be better. I promise."
Emery nodded, her stormy eyes gentle. "Good."
Alexander leaned back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling for a moment.
"I gave her all my love," he murmured, almost to himself. "I gave her a second chance... and what did she do? She lied to me. And the worst part is I believed them all. I suspected a kind, innocent woman like you." He turned to look at her again. "You never deserved any of this."
Emery smiled warmly, her hand still resting lightly on his arm. "I'm glad it wasn't too late. We're figuring things out now. That's what matters."
Alexander studied her for a long moment, something like gratitude and regret mixing in his expression.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I guess it is."
The room fell into a comfortable, quiet silence. Emery stayed seated on the edge of the bed a little longer, offering him silent companionship while he sipped the warm milk.
×××××××
The upscale baby boutique in the heart of the city was quiet and beautifully lit, with soft pastel tones and delicate displays. Tiny designer clothes, handmade wooden toys, and luxurious nursery items filled the shelves. Soft classical music played in the background.
Jesse walked through the aisles alone, hands in his pockets, his tall frame looking slightly out of place among the delicate baby items. He had told himself he was just browsing, but the moment he stepped inside, something shifted inside him.
He stopped in front of a rack of tiny onesies. His fingers brushed over a soft, cream-colored cotton onesie with a subtle embroidered bear on the chest. He picked it up, holding it carefully in his large hands. It looked impossibly small.
A faint smile touched his lips as he imagined a little boy wearing it: dark curls like his, stormy eyes like Emery's.
He moved further into the store, picking up a pair of miniature socks with tiny grippers on the bottom. Then a soft gray blanket made of the finest cashmere. He ran his thumb over the fabric, feeling its luxurious texture.
"Everything okay, sir?" a polite sales associate asked, noticing how intently he was examining the items.
Jesse nodded, voice low. "Yeah... just looking for my... nephew."
He continued walking, stopping at a display of wooden mobiles. One had little stars and moons hanging from it. He gently spun it, watching the pieces turn slowly. His chest tightened with a mix of joy and deep longing.
He picked up a small stuffed lion, soft, plush, with kind embroidered eyes. He turned it over in his hands, imagining holding it up for his son one day, watching those tiny fingers reach for it.
A quiet ache settled in his heart. He was buying these things in secret. No one knew. Not Alexander. Not his mother. Not even Emery yet.
He selected a few more items: a set of organic cotton sleepers in neutral tones, a beautiful leather-bound baby book with gold embossing, and a pair of tiny white shoes that looked like miniature sneakers.
At the checkout counter, the cashier smiled warmly. "Someone's going to be very spoiled."
Jesse gave a small, bittersweet smile. "Yeah... he is."
He paid without hesitation. The total was substantial, but money had never been the issue. The issue was that he couldn't give these things to his child openly.
As he walked out of the store with the elegant shopping bags in hand, Jesse paused on the sidewalk, looking down at the items.
He whispered under his breath, voice thick with emotion:
"I'm sorry I can't be there the way I want to right now, little one. But I'm trying. I promise I'll be there for you... somehow."
He took a deep breath, adjusted his grip on the bags, and headed back to his car.
For now, these little things would stay hidden in his room, a secret collection of love he wasn't allowed to show the world yet.
But one day...
One day, he hoped he could give them openly.
×××××××
Ivy found her mother in the formal living room later that afternoon. Rebecca was sitting on the dark gray sofa, going through some documents with a cup of tea beside her.
"Mom," Ivy said brightly as she walked in, "I was thinking... we should start decorating the baby nursery soon. Emery is already twenty-two weeks. The room next to Alexander's is perfect for it. We could do soft neutrals with a little navy accent since we know it's a boy now. What do you think?"
Rebecca barely looked up from her papers, flipping a page with mild disinterest.
"It's too early, Ivy," she replied flatly. "Twenty-two weeks is barely halfway. There's no need to rush into all of that. Babies don't even need a fully decorated room for the first few months."
Ivy's smile faltered slightly, but she tried again, stepping closer. "But Mom, it would be nice to have it ready. Emery's been through so much already. Having a beautiful space waiting for the baby might make her feel more... settled. We could pick out a crib together, maybe some wall art-"
Rebecca waved a dismissive hand, still not looking up. "We have people for that sort of thing. And like I said, it's too early. Focus on more important matters right now."
She stood up, gathering her documents, clearly done with the conversation.
"I have a call with the foundation in ten minutes. We'll talk about this later."
With that, Rebecca walked out of the room without another glance, leaving Ivy standing there alone.
Ivy stared at the empty doorway for a moment, disappointment clear on her face. She let out a small sigh, then squared her shoulders.
"Fine," she muttered to herself. "If you won't help, I'll do it myself."
A determined little smile formed on her lips as she pulled out her phone and started searching for nursery inspiration.
She wasn't going to wait.
If her mother wouldn't step up for Emery and the baby, then Ivy would make sure the nursery became something warm and welcoming. Something that felt like home.
Even if she had to do every single bit of it on her own.
×××××××
Emery had been looking for Jesse to ask if he wanted some of the soup she made for Alexander, but he wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. She knocked softly on his bedroom door. When there was no answer, she pushed the door open gently, thinking he might be resting.
The room was empty, but her eyes immediately fell on something that made her stop in her tracks.
On the floor near the walk-in closet and on the leather armchair were several elegant shopping bags from an expensive baby boutique.
One bag had tipped over, spilling its contents slightly: a soft cream-colored onesie with a tiny embroidered bear, a pair of miniature white sneakers, a plush stuffed lion, and a beautiful leather-bound baby book with gold lettering.
Emery's breath caught.
She stepped further into the room, heart pounding. She picked up the onesie with trembling fingers, running her thumb over the soft fabric. It was so tiny. So perfect.
Her eyes filled with tears as she realized what this meant.
Jesse had gone shopping for their baby. Alone.
He had bought these things in secret because he couldn't openly celebrate or prepare for his own child.
She sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, still holding the onesie against her chest, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. The stuffed lion lay beside her on the bed. She reached out and touched its soft ear, imagining their little boy holding it one day.
The quiet ache in her heart grew stronger.
She heard footsteps approaching. Jesse walked in, carrying a glass of water, and froze when he saw her sitting there with the baby clothes in her lap.
"Emery..." His voice was soft, surprised, and laced with vulnerability.
She looked up at him, eyes glistening. "You went shopping for him."
Jesse set the glass down and rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost shy. "I... yeah. I couldn't help it. I saw the shop and just went in. I told myself I was only browsing, but then I started picking things out and... I couldn't stop."
Emery held up the tiny onesie, her voice thick with emotion. "It's so small. He's going to be so tiny."
Jesse walked over and sat down beside her on the bed, close but not touching. "I kept imagining him wearing it. With your eyes... or my hair. I bought the lion because I thought he might like something soft to hold onto when he's scared or sleepy."
A tear rolled down Emery's cheek. She wiped it away quickly, but more followed.
"You did all this alone," she whispered. "Because you can't tell anyone he's yours."
Jesse's expression tightened with pain. He reached out slowly and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb.
"I wanted to do something for him," he said quietly. "Even if I can't be there the way I want to right now... I wanted him to have something from his father."
Emery looked at him, her heart aching with love and sadness. She leaned her head against his shoulder, still clutching the tiny onesie.
"Thank you," she whispered. "He's going to love these. I know he will."
Jesse wrapped one arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against him. They sat there in silence, surrounded by the secret little treasures he had bought for their son.
For a few precious minutes, the complicated world outside the room faded away.
It was just the two of them and the quiet, beautiful hope of the life they had created together.
×××××××