Death Of The Patriarch
The private room in the ICU was dimly lit, filled with the steady beeping of machines and the faint smell of antiseptic.
Grandpa Prescott lay in the hospital bed, his face pale and drawn, tubes and wires connected to his frail body. The doctors had done everything they could, but the stroke had been too severe. Everyone knew time was running out.
The entire family was gathered around him: Rebecca standing closest, eyes red and swollen, Alexander sitting stiffly on one side despite his own injuries, Ivy quietly crying into a tissue, and Harper lingering near the door, unusually silent.
Jesse stood at the foot of the bed, his face pale, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white.
Grandpa's eyes fluttered open. His voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but surprisingly clear.
"Come closer... all of you."
They gathered tighter around the bed. Grandpa's gaze moved slowly over each face, lingering longest on Jesse.
"Jesse..." he rasped, lifting a trembling hand.
Jesse immediately stepped forward and took his grandfather's hand.
"I'm here, Grandpa."
The old man's grip was surprisingly strong for someone so weak. "I don't have much time left. I can feel it. Before I go... I have one last wish."
Jesse's throat tightened. "Don't talk like that. You're going to be fine."
Grandpa shook his head slowly, cutting him off. "Listen to me, boy. I've lived a long life. I raised this family. I built what we have. But there's one thing I always wanted to see... and I never did."
His eyes filled with quiet determination as he looked straight at Jesse.
"I want to see you get married, Jesse. I always dreamed of watching you stand at the altar, happy, with a good woman by your side. I wanted to see my grandson settled before I leave this world. Now that's my last wish."
Jesse froze. His face paled even more. "Grandpa... I can't-"
"You can," Grandpa insisted, his voice gaining a little strength. "Promise me, Jesse. Promise me you'll get married soon. Please. Promise me."
The room was deathly silent. Everyone was staring at Jesse.
Jesse's eyes filled with tears. His voice cracked. "Grandpa... please don't make me promise this. Not like this."
Grandpa's hand squeezed his weakly but firmly. "I'm asking for this one thing. As your grandfather. As the man who raised you. Promise me, Jesse. Let me die in peace knowing you'll have a family of your own."
Ofcourse, typical grandparents
Jesse's shoulders shook. Tears streamed down his face. He pressed his forehead against his grandfather's hand, voice breaking completely.
"I... I promise. I'll get married. I promise you."
A faint, relieved smile touched Grandpa Prescott's lips. "Good boy... That's my Jesse."
For a few more minutes, Grandpa held on, looking at each family member one last time, whispering quiet words of love and advice. Then his breathing grew shallower.
Jesse stayed by the bed, holding his grandfather's hand tightly, tears flowing freely.
When the monitors flatlined, Jesse let out a raw, guttural wail that echoed through the room. He buried his face in the sheets beside his grandfather's hand, shoulders shaking violently as deep, heartbroken sobs tore out of him.
"Grandpa... no... please... don't go..."
Rebecca broke down completely, covering her mouth. Ivy cried into Alexander's shoulder. Even Harper looked stunned, tears silently falling.
But no one cried harder than Jesse.
He had just promised his dying grandfather something that felt impossible and now the man who had been like a father to him was gone.
The room filled with grief as the doctors quietly confirmed the time of death.
Jesse remained on his knees, wailing, his promise hanging heavy in the air like a chain around his heart.
×××××××
The cemetery was draped in gray clouds, a light drizzle falling softly as if the sky itself was mourning.
A large crowd had gathered around the open grave: friends, business associates, extended family, and the entire Prescott clan.
The Ryde family stood close by: Percy holding a quiet Kitty in his arms, Mrs. Ryde standing with a solemn expression, and Harper herself a few steps behind, unusually subdued.
Emery stood in a simple but elegant black dress. One hand rested protectively on her stomach, the other clutching a single white rose. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but she remained steady, offering silent support to the family that had never fully accepted her.
Beside her, Jesse was barely holding himself together.
Throughout the entire service, tears streamed down his face.
He didn't try to hide them. Every time the priest spoke about Grandpa Prescott's life, his strength, and the legacy he left behind, Jesse's shoulders shook harder.
Ivy stood on his other side, quietly crying, while Rebecca stood rigid, her face pale and drawn, refusing to break in public.
As the ceremony reached its final moments, the pallbearers slowly lowered the gleaming mahogany casket into the ground.
That was when Jesse broke completely.
A raw, guttural sob tore from his chest. His knees buckled, hitting the wet grass hard. He dropped forward, one hand reaching out toward the casket as if he could stop it from disappearing.
"Grandpa..." he cried, voice cracking and breaking. "Don't go... Please... I'm not ready..."
Tears poured down his face uncontrollably. His whole body trembled as deep, painful wails escaped him: the kind of grief that couldn't be contained. He looked utterly destroyed, the strong, protective man reduced to a heartbroken grandson saying goodbye to the man who had helped raise him.
"Grandpa..." he whispered hoarsely between sobs, forehead nearly touching the ground.
Alexander, who had been standing stoically beside Emery, immediately moved. He left her side without hesitation and knelt down beside his younger brother. He wrapped one arm around Jesse's shoulders, pulling him close despite the pain in his own still-healing ribs.
"I've got you," Alexander murmured, voice thick with his own grief. "Let it out, Jesse. It's okay... I'm here."
Jesse leaned into his brother, still crying hard, his hand fisted in Alexander's jacket. "He's gone. He left. What are we going to do now?"
Alexander didn't have an answer. He simply held his brother tighter as the rain mixed with Jesse's tears.
Emery watched from a few steps away, her heart aching. Her hand tightened on her bump as she witnessed Jesse's raw pain. She wanted to go to him, to hold him, but she stayed where she was. Alexander's wife in the eyes of the world.
Rebecca finally allowed herself to cry, turning into Ivy's arms. Percy held Kitty a little closer, the little girl looking confused by all the sadness. Harper stood silently, her eyes flicking between Jesse's breakdown and Emery's quiet presence, a calculating look hidden behind her grief.
As the first shovels of earth began to fall onto the casket, Jesse remained on his knees, sobbing uncontrollably, supported only by his elder brother.
Grandpa Prescott was gone.
And with him, a piece of the family's foundation had been taken.
The rain continued to fall gently, as if washing away the old and making way for whatever came next.
×××××××
The funeral ceremony had barely ended when Jesse collapsed.
The moment the last shovel of earth hit the casket, the weight of his grief finally overwhelmed him.
His body, already exhausted from days of barely sleeping and eating, gave out completely. One second he was standing on shaky legs beside Alexander, the next his knees buckled and he pitched forward.
"Jesse!" Alexander lunged forward and caught him before he hit the ground.
Jesse's face was burning hot. His skin was flushed, eyes half-lidded and glassy. A high fever had crept up on him during the service, unnoticed beneath the raw sorrow.
"He's burning up," Alexander said urgently, supporting his brother's weight. "We need to get him home. Now."
Rebecca rushed over, panic clear in her voice. "Jesse? Oh God, not him too..."
Ivy was already calling for the car while Harper stood back, watching everything with a complicated expression.
Alexander half-carried, half-dragged Jesse to the waiting car. He laid him carefully across the backseat, Jesse's head resting on his lap. The drive back to the Prescott house was tense and silent, broken only by Jesse's occasional feverish murmurs.
"Grandpa... please..." he whispered hoarsely, eyes closed, sweat beading on his forehead. "... Don't go..."
Alexander's hand rested on his brother's shoulder, jaw tight with worry. "Just hold on, Jesse. We're almost home."
When they arrived, Alexander carried Jesse inside himself, refusing help from the staff. He took him straight to his bedroom and laid him on the bed. Rebecca immediately called the family doctor while Ivy brought cool cloths and water.
Emery stood in the doorway of Jesse's room, hand on her bump, watching with wide, worried eyes. She wanted to go to him, to press a cool hand to his forehead, but she stayed back.
The doctor arrived quickly and examined Jesse.
"High fever, likely triggered by extreme emotional stress and exhaustion," he said. "Combined with the grief, his body just shut down. We'll give him fluids and fever reducers. He needs rest and quiet. No stress. Keep an eye on him tonight."
Alexander nodded, staying by his brother's side even after the doctor left. Rebecca sat in the armchair nearby, looking older than she had at the funeral. Ivy hovered, bringing fresh cloths.
Jesse remained mostly unconscious, occasionally murmuring in his fevered sleep.
"Grandpa... don't go..."
Emery lingered just outside the door for a long time, heart aching as she watched the man she loved suffer so deeply. She placed both hands on her bump and whispered softly to their baby,
"Your daddy is hurting so much right now... but we're going to be strong for him, okay?"
×××××××
The Prescott house was shrouded in heavy silence that night. Jesse's bedroom was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp.
His fever had climbed dangerously high, his body burning beneath the sheets. Sweat soaked his dark hair and dampened the pillow. He tossed restlessly, murmuring incoherently as the grief and exhaustion finally broke him completely.
Emery had waited until the house grew quiet. She slipped out of the bedroom and made her way to Jesse's room, unable to stay away any longer. She found him alone, the doctor having left hours ago with instructions to monitor his temperature.
She sat carefully on the edge of the bed and pressed a cool, damp cloth to his forehead. Jesse stirred at her touch, his eyes fluttering open but remaining glassy and unfocused.
"Emery..." he rasped, voice hoarse and broken.
"I'm here," she whispered, gently wiping sweat from his brow. "You're burning up. Just rest, okay?"
Jesse's hand weakly reached for hers. His fingers trembled as they found her wrist. Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, mixing with the sweat on his face.
"Grandpa..." he choked out, voice cracking. "He's gone, Emery. He left... He's really gone. I'll never see him again. Never hear his voice... never feel him pat my shoulder and tell me I'm doing okay..."
A sob tore from his chest, raw and painful. His body shook with the force of it.
"I promised him... I promised I'd get married... but how can I... when you're not mine to marry?" He cried harder, half-conscious, words spilling out in a fevered torrent. "He wanted to see me happy... I failed him..."
Emery's heart shattered. She leaned closer, one hand cradling his burning cheek while the other rested on her bump.
"Shh... it's okay," she whispered, voice thick with her own tears. "You didn't fail him, Jesse. You loved him so much. He knew that. He was so proud of you."
Jesse turned his face into her palm, sobbing quietly. "He's gone... He's really gone... I didn't get to say goodbye properly... I didn't... he loves me so much... I had grown so rude to him recently..."
Emery stayed with him, gently stroking his hair, murmuring soft reassurances as he cried. She didn't pull away even when his fever made him ramble. She simply held space for his grief, her own tears falling silently.
Unbeknownst to both of them, Harper stood just outside the slightly ajar door, hidden in the dark hallway. She had come to check on the "family drama" and had frozen the moment she heard Jesse's broken voice.
She watched everything: Jesse crying like a child in Emery's arms, the tender way Emery wiped his tears and comforted him, the way Jesse clung to her hand like she was his only anchor.
Harper's eyes narrowed, a dark realization settling over her face.
This wasn't just concern.
This was love.
Deep, desperate, forbidden love.
She stayed there for several long minutes, committing every detail to memory, before silently slipping away down the hall.
Back inside the room, Jesse's sobs gradually quieted into exhausted, feverish murmurs. Emery continued stroking his hair, whispering soothing words until his breathing evened out into a restless sleep.
She stayed by his side long into the night, heart heavy with love and sorrow, knowing she couldn't be here when morning came.
But for these stolen hours, she was exactly where she needed to be.
×××××××