Never Stop Loving You
The dim lights of the downtown bar barely reached the corner booth where Jesse sat alone.
Empty glasses cluttered the table in front of him... whiskey, neat, one after another. The sharp burn in his throat did nothing to dull the storm raging inside his chest.
Emery was pregnant.
The words had been looping in his head since dinner last night, refusing to let go.
His brother’s wife was carrying a child. Alexander’s child. And Jesse was supposed to smile, congratulate him, and pretend it didn’t feel like someone had reached into his ribcage and ripped his heart out.
He lifted the glass to his lips with a trembling hand, drained it in one swallow, and slammed it back down.
His dark brown hair was messy, light stubble shadowing his jaw, and his intense eyes were red-rimmed and glassy. The lean, athletic frame that usually carried quiet power now slumped forward, shoulders shaking.
A broken sob escaped him, quiet at first, then deeper, rawer. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, but the tears kept coming.
“Fuck…” he whispered hoarsely, voice cracking. “Fuck, Emery…”
He thought of her gentle face, her stormy eyes that once looked at him with so much love and trust.
He thought of how small and fragile she had looked at dinner, rushing out with her hand over her mouth.
She was going to be a mother. She was going to raise a child in that cold house, as Alexander’s wife, while Jesse had to watch from the sidelines, close enough to see everything, far enough to never touch her again.
The pain was unbearable.
He had lost her. Completely. Irrevocably.
Another sob tore from his chest, louder this time. His broad shoulders shook as he let it all out... the guilt, the jealousy, the crushing regret.
Tears streamed down his face unchecked. He didn’t care who saw. For once, he didn’t have the strength to hold it together.
“I should have fought for you…” he mumbled into the empty glass, voice thick with alcohol and sorrow. “I should have told the world you were mine. Instead I pushed you away… and now you’re carrying his baby. My brother’s baby.”
He laughed bitterly through the tears, the sound broken and hollow.
“How the fuck am I supposed to live with that?”
The bartender glanced over but said nothing. Jesse reached for the bottle again, pouring another generous measure with unsteady hands. The amber liquid sloshed over the rim.
He was wasting himself tonight.
Because the woman he loved more than anything was pregnant... and it wasn’t with him.
And that truth was slowly, mercilessly destroying him.
×××××××
Later that night, the bedroom was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning.
Alexander had just stepped out of the bathroom after his shower, dressed in simple gray lounge pants and a black T-shirt.
He found Emery sitting on the edge of the large bed, her long hair loose and falling in soft waves past her shoulders. Her eyes were distant, fixed on the sonogram she held in her trembling hands.
Alexander walked over and sat down beside her, leaving a respectful space between them.
For a long moment, he simply watched her profile, the bangs framing her fair face, the natural rosy tone of her cheeks now pale with exhaustion.
“Emery,” he said quietly, his voice calm and measured, “are you okay with the baby?”
She blinked slowly, as if pulling herself out of deep thought, and turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were glassy, still carrying the weight of the day’s revelations.
Alexander continued, his tone gentle but straightforward. “I know this wasn’t planned. For either of us. If you’re not ready… if this feels too much on top of everything else, you can tell me. I won’t force you to go through with it.”
Emery looked down at the ultrasound image again, her fingers tracing the faint outline of the tiny flickering shape. A small, fragile smile touched her lips for the briefest second... genuine, but laced with sadness.
“I’m… scared,” she admitted softly. “But I’m not unhappy about the baby. I’ve always wanted to be a mother someday. I just never imagined it would happen like this.”
She paused, swallowing hard before continuing.
“It’s just… everything feels so heavy. The house, your family, this marriage… and now a baby. I don’t know how to be a mother in a place where I’m still learning how to be a wife.”
Alexander nodded slowly, his clean-shaven face remaining composed, though his observant eyes held a flicker of understanding.
“I won’t pretend this is easy for me either,” he said. “But the child is innocent. If you want to keep it, I’ll stand by you. I’ll provide for both of you. You won’t have to raise this baby alone.”
He reached out and gently placed his hand over hers for a moment... not romantic, but steady and reassuring.
“You don’t have to decide everything tonight. Just know that whatever you choose… I’m here.”
Emery gave a small nod, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She didn’t pull her hand away, but she also didn’t lean into his touch.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Alexander withdrew his hand and stood up, giving her space once more. “Get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow if you want.”
He moved to the leather armchair on the other side of the room, preparing to sleep there again, leaving the large bed for her.
Emery remained sitting on the edge of the mattress, the ultrasound picture still clutched in her hands, her heart heavy with secrets she could never share.
The baby growing inside her was real.
And no matter what Alexander said, she knew the road ahead would be anything but simple.
×××××××
Harper was back at the Prescott house again that morning, her presence like a dark cloud that refused to lift.
Emery stood at the large kitchen sink, quietly washing the breakfast dishes. Her long hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, bangs spread on her forehead.
She moved mechanically, the warm water and soap doing little to soothe the constant ache in her chest.
Harper leaned against the marble island, arms crossed, watching her with a cruel smirk.
“You know, it’s almost pathetic,” Harper said, voice dripping with disdain.
“Playing house like you actually belong here. Scrubbing dishes like the little servant you were always meant to be. I still can’t believe my brother knocked up someone like you.
A nobody whose parents died before she even breathed.
Must run in the family... disappearing when things get hard. ”
Emery’s hands stilled in the soapy water. Something inside her finally snapped.
She turned slowly, stormy eyes flashing with quiet fire. “Don’t talk about my parents like that.”
Harper laughed, sharp and mocking. “Oh, look at that. The little mouse finally squeaks. What are you going to do? Cry to Alexander? Or maybe to Jesse, since he seems so eager to defend his precious little sister-in-law?”
Before Emery could respond, Harper stepped forward and grabbed her arm hard, fingers digging into her skin.
“You listen to me. You may be carrying the so-called Prescott heir, but you will never be one of us. You’re just a replacement.
A temporary fix. And when this baby is born, we’ll all remember exactly where you came from. ”
The grip was painful. Emery winced, trying to pull away.
At that exact moment, Jesse walked into the kitchen. His eyes immediately locked onto Harper’s hand on Emery’s arm, and something inside him ignited.
“Get your fucking hands off her,” he snarled, voice low and dangerous.
Harper turned, surprised, but didn’t let go. “Oh, here comes the white knight again—”
“I said let go!” Jesse stepped forward, fury blazing in his intense eyes.
He was unhinged, the careful control he usually maintained completely shattered.
“You have no right to touch her. You have no right to speak to her like that. She’s carrying a child.
Our heir, and you’re treating her like garbage. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Harper released Emery’s arm with a scoff, but her eyes narrowed. “You’re really going to defend her like this? Over and over? She’s not even—”
“She’s family now,” Jesse cut in, voice rising. “Whether you like it or not. And if you ever lay a hand on her again, or speak about her parents like that, I swear to God, Harper, I will make sure you regret it.”
Harper stared at him for a long second, stunned by the raw fury in her brother’s voice. Then she let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
“Unbelievable.” She turned on her heel and stormed out of the kitchen without another word.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Jesse turned to Emery, his expression softening instantly. His voice dropped to something gentle, almost tender.
“Are you okay?”
Emery rubbed her arm where Harper had grabbed her, eyes fixed on the sink. Her reply was cold, distant, and final.
“I’m fine.”
She turned back to the dishes, plunging her hands into the soapy water again, refusing to look at him.
Jesse stood there for a long moment, searching for the right words, for anything that could bridge the chasm between them. But nothing came. The guilt, the regret, the love he couldn’t express, it all choked him.
With a heavy exhale, he turned and left the kitchen, shoulders tense, heart heavier than when he had walked in.
Emery remained at the sink, shoulders trembling slightly as she fought back tears, the warm water doing nothing to wash away the pain.
×××××××
Jesse stood alone in the gazebo again that night, the same spot where he had broken down before. A cigarette burned between his fingers as he stared up at the starless sky, smoke curling lazily into the darkness. The garden was quiet, the house lights dimmed behind him.
Soft footsteps approached. Ivy walked up the steps and leaned against the railing beside him.
“Hey,” she said gently. “Can I get a puff?”
Jesse pulled the cigarette away from her reach. “No. You’re a good girl.”
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Come on.”
He shook his head firmly. “No.”
She sighed, then added quietly, “Let me forget my argument with my best friend the same way you’re trying to forget someone.”
Jesse let out a low, bitter chuckle. “Someone?” He pressed a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “She’s here, Ivy.” A pause. “No. I’m there. Trapped inside her heart. I cannot escape. How can a prisoner ever forget his captor?”
Ivy smiled sadly, her eyes softening with sympathy. “You’re poetic tonight.”
Jesse shook his head, taking another drag before stubbing the cigarette out on the railing.
“How do you feel about the news?” Ivy asked after a moment. “You becoming an uncle soon?”
Jesse stared out at the dark garden, jaw tight. Silence stretched between them.
“How do you think I should feel?” he finally said, voice rough. “It’s killing me, Ivy.”
He swallowed hard, eyes distant.
“You know what we used to joke about? We used to say if we ever had a child, daughter or son, it didn’t matter, we’d name them Emesse.”
“Emesse?” Ivy repeated, tilting her head. “Like… a hybrid name?”
“Yeah.” Jesse nodded, a ghost of a broken smile touching his lips. “So the world would know how much we loved each other. News flash. I was too much of a coward to stand in front of everyone and tell them how much I loved her.”
The words hung heavy in the night air. Jesse leaned forward, resting his forearms on the railing, shoulders slumped under the weight of everything he had lost.
“I keep thinking about it,” he continued quietly.
“She’s carrying a baby now. My brother’s baby.
And I have to smile and pretend I’m happy for them.
Pretend I’m just the uncle. While every single day I wake up knowing the woman I love is sleeping in his bed…
and the child growing inside her might have been ours if I hadn’t been such a fucking coward. ”
Ivy reached out and placed a gentle hand on his back, rubbing slow circles.
“You still love her,” she whispered.
Jesse closed his eyes, pain etched across his face.
“More than anything. And that’s the worst part. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
The gazebo fell silent once more, the cool night breeze carrying away the last traces of cigarette smoke, but doing nothing to ease the ache in Jesse’s heart.
×××××××