Trapped Together
The next morning, the Prescott house was still wrapped in a heavy silence.
Emery had barely slept, her mind replaying Harper's cruel words on loop. She moved slowly through the hallway when she saw Jesse coming down the stairs.
He looked exhausted: dark circles under his eyes, hair slightly disheveled, the weight of grief and the forced date with Francesca still etched into every line of his face.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Jesse stopped on the last step, his eyes softening the instant they landed on her. But there was also pain there.
"Emery..." he whispered, voice hoarse.
She took a small step closer, her eyes already glistening. "Jesse... how are you?"
He swallowed hard and descended the final step, stopping just a foot away from her. His gaze dropped to her bump for a second before returning to her face.
"I'm... surviving," he said quietly. "The date was hell.
Francesca was... herself. Mocking me the entire time.
I barely said two words to her. I just sat there thinking about you.
About him." His hand twitched as if he wanted to reach out and touch her bump, but he didn't. "I kept thinking about the promise I made to Grandpa. And how impossible it feels."
Emery's breath hitched. Tears welled up faster than she could stop them.
"Harper told me," she whispered, voice breaking. "She told me you were on a date with Francesca."
Jesse's face crumpled. He looked away for a second, jaw trembling, before forcing himself to meet her eyes again.
"I didn't want to go," he said, voice cracking.
"My mother forced me. She used Grandpa's last wish against me.
I tried to refuse, but she... she wouldn't let me.
I sat there the whole night hating every second of it.
All I could think about was you. About our son.
About how wrong it felt to be sitting across from her when the woman I love is right here, carrying my child. "
A tear slipped down Emery's cheek. She wiped it away quickly, but more followed.
"I know it's not your fault," she said softly, her voice trembling.
"But it still hurt so much when she told me.
I kept imagining you with her... and it felt like my heart was being ripped out.
I know I have no right to feel this way.
I'm married to your brother. But Jesse.. . I still love you. So much it hurts."
Jesse's eyes filled with fresh tears. He took one small step closer, his hand finally reaching out to gently cup her cheek, thumb brushing away her tears with heartbreaking tenderness.
"I love you too," he whispered, voice breaking.
"God, Emery, I love you so much. Every time I see you, every time I feel our baby move when I'm near you.
.. it kills me that I can't hold you the way I want to.
That I can't tell the world you're mine.
That I had to sit across from Francesca last night while you were here alone. "
Emery leaned into his touch, closing her eyes as more tears fell.
"I'm so tired of hiding," she whispered. "I'm so tired of pretending. But I don't know how to fix any of this."
Jesse rested his forehead gently against hers, his breath shaky.
"Neither do I," he admitted, voice barely audible. "But I'm not giving up on us. On him. Even if it takes time. Even if it hurts every single day. I'm not giving up."
They stayed like that for a long moment: foreheads touching, his hand on her cheek, two hearts breaking together in the quiet hallway while their baby kicked between them.
×××××××
Alexander sat in the formal living room of the Prescott house.
The purple and yellow marks around his eye and cheek had lightened already, but the anger in his eyes had not dimmed at all.
Two police detectives sat across from him, Detective Ramirez and Detective Park, both looking professional but clearly frustrated with the lack of progress.
"Mr. Prescott," Detective Ramirez began, "we've reviewed all the available CCTV footage from the area.
The attackers were careful. They wore masks, used a stolen vehicle that was later abandoned and torched.
We have partial fingerprints, but they don't match any known criminals in our database.
The man who flagged you down appears to have been a decoy.
We're still interviewing witnesses, but so far.
.. we don't have a solid lead on who ordered the hit. "
Alexander's jaw clenched so tightly a muscle ticked. His hands were fisted on his thighs as he leaned forward, voice low and dangerous.
"No lead?" he repeated, fury simmering beneath every word. "Someone tried to kill me on a public road. They set up an ambush. They beat me within an inch of my life. And after weeks, you're telling me you still have nothing?"
Detective Park shifted uncomfortably. "We're doing everything we can, sir. We've increased patrols, pulled phone records from the area, and we're working with private security firms that your company recommended. But these men were professionals. This wasn't a random mugging. It was targeted."
Alexander's eyes flashed with cold rage. He stood up abruptly, ignoring the twinge of pain in his still-healing ribs.
"Then look harder," he said, voice sharp and commanding.
"I don't care how long it takes or how much it costs.
Use every resource you have. Pull every favor.
I want the names of the men who attacked me, and more importantly, I want the name of the person who hired them.
Because this was not random. Someone wanted me hurt. .. or dead."
He took a step closer to the detectives, his presence imposing.
"My family has power in this city. My company employs thousands.
My grandfather just passed away, and I will not let his legacy be tainted by some coward who thinks they can attack a Prescott and walk away.
Find them. Or I will start making calls myself.
And trust me, you don't want me handling this my way. "
The detectives exchanged a tense glance.
"We understand, Mr. Prescott," Ramirez said carefully. "We'll keep you updated daily. We won't stop until we have answers."
Alexander gave a single, sharp nod. "Good. Now get out there and do your job."
The two detectives stood and left the room, the heavy tension following them out.
Alexander remained standing, breathing hard through his nose, fists still clenched.
Whoever had done this had made a grave mistake.
He would find them.
And when he did, there would be no mercy.
×××××××
The nursery was still only half-finished. The walls had been painted a soft, warm gray with one accent wall in deep navy, exactly as Ivy had planned.
A large, beautiful white crib stood assembled against the wall, but the shelves and racks remained empty. A few unopened boxes of baby clothes, toys, and decor sat piled in the corner, untouched since Grandpa Prescott's passing had brought everything to a halt.
Ivy sat on the floor with her back against the crib, knees drawn up to her chest, staring blankly at the opposite wall.
Jesse walked in quietly and paused for a moment, taking in the half-done room. Then he moved over and sat down beside her, pulling his knees up to match her posture.
"Bored?" he asked gently.
Ivy shook her head slowly. "Sad."
Jesse turned his head to look at her. "Why?"
She shrugged, eyes still distant. "Grandpa... Emery... you... This house feels so heavy lately."
Jesse sighed, resting his head back against the crib. "What about Emery and me?"
Ivy finally looked at him, her expression soft but serious. "You're now going on dates with Francesca. Emery was so sad today, Jesse. She barely ate anything at lunch. She just pushed the food around her plate. Are you really going to marry that slut?"
Jesse shook his head immediately, voice firm. "I would never do that."
Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you doing?"
Jesse exhaled heavily, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'm trying to find a way out of this emotional blackmail Mom is using against me. She keeps throwing Grandpa's last wish in my face. Every time I try to refuse, she reminds me I promised him on his deathbed."
Ivy's voice was quiet but pointed. "How long will it take for you to find a solution? Your baby is coming in three months now. You have so little time left. Or do you want to hold your child when he's born and pretend you're just his uncle?"
Jesse's face twisted with pain. "No. God, no."
Ivy exhaled, leaning her head against his shoulder for a moment. "Then get Francesca out of the picture, Jesse. There's already too much going on in this house. Too much pain. Too many lies. Emery doesn't deserve to cry herself to sleep because she thinks you're slipping away."
Jesse was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low but resolute.
"Alright... fine," he said. "But I promise you this time, I'm not choosing to be a coward. This time, I'll fight for her. For both of them."
Ivy patted his shoulder gently, a small, tired smile on her lips. "I hope you succeed, Jesse. I really do. Because that baby deserves to know who his real father is."
They sat together in the half-finished nursery, surrounded by the quiet promise of a future that still felt painfully out of reach.
×××××××
The bedroom was dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. Emery sat propped against the headboard of Alexander's large bed, her back cushioned by pillows. Her belly was beautifully rounded and heavy. She had both hands cradling it, eyes closed, feeling every movement of her active baby.
He had been especially lively today: turning, stretching, and kicking with surprising strength. She could swear she felt the distinct press of a tiny knee pushing outward against the tight skin of her tummy.
"Do you feel Mama's pain?" she murmured softly, voice barely above a whisper.
The baby responded with a strong kick right under her palm.
"Ahh..." Emery gasped quietly, a small smile breaking through the sadness on her face. "Don't be upset, sweetheart. Mama's fine."
The baby's movements gradually slowed, as if he understood her words and was trying to calm down for her.
Emery kept one hand gently pressed against the curve of her belly, her thumb stroking slow circles.
"Daddy's trapped, baby," she whispered, voice cracking with emotion. "He's worried. So worried about everything... about me, about you, about the promises he made."
She swallowed hard, tears gathering in her eyes.
"I promise you," she continued, voice trembling but determined, "if Daddy doesn't stand up this time... if he keeps letting fear and his mother control him... then I'll leave. You and I. We'll find our own way. I won't let you grow up in a house full of secrets and lies."
The baby gave one last, softer kick, almost like a gentle reassurance.
Emery let out a shaky breath and leaned her head back against the headboard, both hands still protectively cradling her son.
"I love you so much already," she whispered. "No matter what happens... you will always be loved."
She stayed like that for a long time: eyes closed, hands on her belly, silently making a promise to her unborn child in the quiet of the night.
Unbeknownst to her, Jesse stood just outside the slightly open door, having come to check on her. He had heard every word.
His heart shattered.
He pressed his forehead against the doorframe, eyes squeezed shut, fighting the tears that threatened to fall.
He had never felt more trapped... or more determined.
×××××××