Your Cowardice Ruined Me
Rebecca had summoned Emery downstairs that morning.
The sleek drawing room was bathed in soft morning light. Rebecca sat elegantly on one of the black leather couches, sipping her tea.
Harper lounged beside her, legs crossed, a delicate teacup in her hand. Little Kitty sat on the plush rug nearby, happily chewing on a colorful teething toy instead of actually playing with it.
Emery entered quietly, still dressed in the simple gray sweater and leggings Ivy had given her. Her hair was tied back loosely, and her eyes looked tired.
“You sent for me?” she asked softly.
Rebecca set her teacup down with a deliberate clink and sighed. “Yes,” she said coldly. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Emery nodded, waiting.
Harper was quicker. She leaned forward with a sharp smile. “Look, if you want to live in this house, hiding away in my brother’s room all day isn’t going to work. You have to eat, right?”
Emery nodded slowly.
“Then you have to earn it.” Harper’s smirk deepened. “Melania!”
A middle-aged woman in a neat maid’s uniform appeared almost immediately. “Yes, Miss Harper?”
Harper gestured lazily toward Emery. “Show her around the house. She’ll help you clean. Show her the kitchen too... she’ll be cooking from now on.”
Emery swallowed hard, her fair cheeks losing what little color they had left. So this was how it was going to be.
Rebecca looked at her with cool detachment. “Do you have any objections?”
Emery shook her head, voice barely audible. “No.”
Harper let out a cruel little laugh. “Boring. If there were, I would have enjoyed watching Mom beat your ass.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Skedaddle now.”
Emery turned to follow Melania, but Harper’s voice stopped her again.
“Oh, and… do you know how to handle children?”
Emery hesitated. “I worked part-time at a daycare—”
“Good!” Harper interrupted brightly. She bent down, scooped up Kitty, and thrust the baby into Emery’s arms without warning. “Her diaper bag is in my room upstairs. Change her diapers.”
Emery instinctively cradled the six-month-old against her chest. Kitty blinked up at her with big curious eyes, still chewing on her teething toy. The baby was warm and surprisingly heavy for such a small thing.
Without another word, Emery turned and followed Melania out of the drawing room, the little girl resting quietly in her arms.
Behind her, Harper picked up her teacup again and laughed softly. “This should be entertaining.”
Rebecca simply sipped her tea, offering no correction.
Emery walked down the hallway with Melania, her heart heavy. She held Kitty a little closer, the innocent warmth of the baby the only comfort in the cold, luxurious house that now felt like a prison.
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Harper’s old bedroom was still beautifully decorated in soft creams and blush tones, a stark contrast to the rest of the house’s dark, sleek aesthetic. Emery sat cross-legged on the plush cream rug, the six-month-old Kitty balanced carefully in front of her.
The baby stared up at her with wide, curious eyes, a small toothless grin forming on her chubby face.
“Hello, sweet girl,” Emery whispered softly, her voice gentle and warm for the first time in days. “You’re such a happy little thing, aren’t you?”
She tickled Kitty’s round belly lightly with her fingertips. The baby let out a delighted squeal and kicked her tiny legs, dissolving into bubbly laughter. Emery’s stormy eyes softened as she watched the little girl, a small, genuine smile tugging at her own lips.
“You like that, hmm?”
Carefully, she laid Kitty down on the changing mat, cleaned her gently, applied fresh powder, and fastened a clean diaper with practiced hands from her old daycare days. Kitty cooed happily the entire time, waving her fists in the air.
When she was done, Emery helped the baby sit up, then gently pulled her to a standing position, supporting her under the arms.
Kitty squealed with excitement, her little legs wobbling unsteadily even with Emery holding her. She immediately reached out and fisted both tiny hands in Emery’s tied-back chestnut-brown hair, tugging with surprising strength.
Emery laughed softly, a quiet, breathy sound that surprised even her. “Oh no, not the hair, little one!”
She tried to gently pry the baby’s fingers loose, but Kitty only giggled louder, bouncing on her chubby legs and pulling harder. The wispy bangs framing Emery’s face got caught in the tiny grip, making her laugh again.
For the first time since the wedding, something warm bloomed in Emery’s chest. This little girl, with her innocent joy and soft baby scent, had brought her a small pocket of light in the middle of all the darkness.
“You’re going to be trouble when you grow up, aren’t you?” Emery murmured fondly, finally managing to free one of her strands from Kitty’s determined fist. She pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead. “But right now… you’re exactly what I needed.”
Kitty squealed again, leaning forward to rest her head against Emery’s shoulder, completely comfortable and trusting in her arms.
Emery held her close, rocking her slowly, letting the baby’s warmth chase away some of the cold that had settled deep inside her heart.
In that quiet moment, surrounded by Harper’s old belongings, the fragile young woman allowed herself to feel just a little bit of joy.
×××××××
Melania led Emery down the long, sleek corridor on the upper floor.
The house’s dark, masculine aesthetic continued into Ivy’s bedroom, black and charcoal tones dominated everything, with no soft feminine touches anywhere.
A low platform bed, dark wood furniture, and heavy curtains made the space feel cold and impersonal, just like the rest of the house.
“You will be responsible for cleaning four rooms,” Melania explained in a quiet, professional tone as she walked downstairs. “Miss Ivy’s room and Mr. Alexander’s room upstairs, Grandpa Prescott’s room here, and...”
Emery followed her silently.
Melania stopped in front of the last door and opened it. “This is Sir Jesse’s room.”
Emery’s heart twisted violently in her chest.
She stepped inside anyway. The room was huge and luxurious, every detail screaming wealth and power. Dark wood flooring, a massive upholstered gray bed with a dramatic arched headboard, black chandelier, and soft ambient lighting. Her eyes drifted involuntarily to the nightstand.
There it was, a silver picture frame holding a photograph of Jesse.
He was smiling in the picture, wearing the soft pastel-colored button-down shirt she had gifted him last year for his birthday. The same shirt she had helped him pick out and button up herself on quiet hotel nights.
Her throat tightened painfully. She quickly looked away, blinking back the sting in her eyes.
Melania continued toward the spacious walk-in wardrobe, almost the size of a small bedroom. French doors at the far end opened into the gardens.
Inside, hundreds of perfectly pressed dress shirts hung in glass-doored closets, each illuminated by soft dim yellow lighting.
Rows of tailored coats and pants followed, while casual wear was neatly folded in big black drawers beneath the closets. A square black table with drawers sat in the center, topped with a simple vase of fresh white roses.
This was his room.
This was his world.
Emery swallowed hard, the reality of how far apart their lives truly were hitting her all over again.
Melania moved to the ensuite bathroom door and opened it. “And here is the—”
Jesse stepped out at that exact moment, nothing but a white towel wrapped low around his hips. Water droplets still clung to his lean, athletic chest and dark hair. He froze the second he saw Emery standing there.
“Sir Jesse,” Melania gasped, immediately averting her eyes and looking at the floor.
Emery turned her face away too. Not out of modesty. She had seen him like this dozens of times before, had traced every line of his body with her fingers and lips. She looked away because the sight of him now hurt too much.
“What are you doing here?” Jesse asked, his voice low and rough.
“I was just showing Miss Emery around the house, sir,” Melania replied quickly.
Jesse nodded once, but his eyes never left Emery. “Alright.”
A heavy silence stretched between them.
From somewhere down the corridor, Rebecca’s sharp voice called out, “Melania?”
The maid excused herself with a quick bow and hurried out, leaving Emery and Jesse alone in his bedroom.
Emery turned to follow Melania, but Jesse moved faster. His hand shot out and gently but firmly grabbed her wrist, stopping her.
“Emery…”
His touch burned against her skin. She froze, heart hammering wildly in her chest, but she refused to look at him.
Water droplets slid down his bare chest from the shower, and the towel sat low on his hips. He took a small step closer, his eyes filled with desperation.
“Please… just talk to me for a second,” he whispered. “I know you’re angry. I know I deserve it, but...”
Emery yanked her wrist free from his grip, stepping back quickly. Her eyes flashed with pain and fury as she finally looked at him.
“No,” she said sharply, voice trembling but clear. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Emery, I’m sorry...” he tried again, reaching out instinctively.
She slapped his hand away, her breathing uneven.
“Sorry? You’re sorry?” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
“You did this, Jesse. You’re the reason I’m here.
You’re the reason I had to stand at that altar and marry your brother.
You kept me hidden for three years like I was some dirty secret, and when I finally asked you to stop being a coward, you pushed me away.
You asked for a break instead of fighting for us. ”
Her voice cracked, but she kept going, the words pouring out like poison she could no longer hold back.
“You’re a coward, Jesse Prescott. A selfish coward. Because of you, I’m trapped in this house while everyone looks at me like I don’t belong. Because of you… everything in my life is ruined.”
Jesse stood frozen, the towel still around his waist, his face pale with guilt and heartbreak. He opened his mouth, but no words came out at first. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse and broken.
“I know. I know I fucked up. I was scared... scared of what my family would do, scared of losing you if things went wrong. But I never wanted this. I never wanted you to suffer like this.”
Emery shook her head fiercely, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks despite her efforts to hold them back.
“Stay away from me,” she whispered, her voice cracking with finality. “Just… stay away. I can’t look at you without remembering what you took from me.”
She turned on her heel and walked out of his room, her steps quick and unsteady. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft but devastating sound.
Jesse remained standing, water still dripping from his hair onto the dark wood floor. His chest heaved as he stared at the closed door, the diamond ring he had bought for her still burning a hole in his nightstand drawer.
He had never felt more like the coward she called him.
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