What About Us?
A week had passed since Grandpa Prescott's funeral.
The grief still lingered heavily in the air of the Prescott house, but Jesse had forced himself to pull together for Emery and for their baby.
He had been quieter than usual, his eyes often distant, but whenever Emery was near, he made sure to be present.
Today was her twenty-five-week check-up.
Jesse drove them to the doctor's office himself. The car ride was mostly silent, but his hand occasionally reached over to rest gently on hers.
When they arrived, he helped her out of the car with careful hands, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary.
In the examination room, Emery lay on the table, her navy blouse lifted to expose her rounded bump. Jesse sat right beside her, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the table, his thumb occasionally brushing her arm.
The doctor moved the ultrasound wand slowly across her belly, the familiar whooshing heartbeat filling the room.
"Everything looks excellent," the doctor said with a warm smile. "Baby is measuring right on track for twenty-five weeks. Heart rate is strong at 148 beats per minute. All organs are developing beautifully, and the amniotic fluid levels are perfect. He's active and healthy. No concerns at all."
Emery let out a soft breath of relief, her eyes fixed on the screen where their son's tiny profile was visible. A small smile touched her lips as she watched him move.
Jesse's gaze was locked on the monitor too, his expression a mixture of awe and lingering sadness. He reached out and gently placed his hand over Emery's on the table, giving it a light squeeze.
The doctor continued, "At this stage, we can start discussing delivery planning.
For a first pregnancy, we usually aim for 39 to 40 weeks.
So, with you currently at 25 weeks, we're looking at an approximate due date around mid-to-late October, give or take a week.
We'll monitor closely as we get closer, but everything is progressing very well. "
Emery nodded, her hand instinctively moving to her bump. "Mid-to-late October... That feels so close now."
Jesse's voice was quiet but warm. "He's doing good?"
"Perfectly fine," the doctor reassured. "Keep up with your prenatal vitamins, stay hydrated, and continue light activity. Rest when you need to. You're both doing great."
After the appointment, they walked slowly back to the car. Jesse kept one hand hovering near Emery's lower back, protective even in his grief.
Once they were inside the car, Emery turned to him.
"Thank you for coming with me," she said softly. "I know it's been hard for you lately."
Jesse stared out the windshield for a moment, then looked at her. His eyes were tired, but the love in them was undeniable.
"I'll always come with you," he replied quietly. "For you... and for him. Even when it hurts."
He reached over and gently placed his hand on her bump. For a few seconds, they sat in silence, feeling the baby move under his palm.
Emery covered his hand with hers.
"We're going to be okay," she whispered.
Jesse nodded, though the grief still sat heavy in his chest.
For her and their son, he would keep pulling himself together.
One day at a time.
×××××××
Jesse had just returned home from the doctor's appointment. Emery had gone upstairs to rest. The weight of the day: the ultrasound, the baby's strong heartbeat, and the constant ache of grief sat heavily on his shoulders as he stepped into the living room.
Rebecca was waiting for him.
She stood near the fireplace, arms crossed, her expression firm and unyielding. The moment he walked in, she spoke without preamble.
"Jesse."
He stopped, already sensing what was coming. "Mom."
Rebecca didn't waste time. Her voice was quiet but sharp, carrying the authority of a mother who had just buried her father-in-law.
"You made a promise to your grandfather on his deathbed. He asked you to get married. He said it was his last wish. You promised him you would."
Jesse's jaw tightened. He looked away, fists clenching at his sides. "Mom... not now. Please."
"Now is exactly the time," Rebecca said, stepping closer. "You gave him your word while he was dying. He held on long enough to hear you promise. I was there. We all were. You don't get to pretend it didn't happen."
Jesse's eyes glistened with fresh pain. His voice cracked. "I know what I said. But I can't... I can't just marry right now. Especially not who you have in mind. You know how I feel about her."
Rebecca's expression hardened. "I don't care how you feel. You made a promise to a dying man: to your grandfather, who raised you, who loved you more than anyone. Tonight, you are taking Francesca on a date. I've already arranged it. She'll be ready at seven."
Jesse's head snapped up, anger flashing across his face. "No. I won't do it. I can't."
"You will," Rebecca said coldly, not backing down an inch.
"This time, I'm not letting you have the upper hand, Jesse.
You've been avoiding this long enough. You threatened to leave the family before.
You shouted at me. You defied me. But not this time.
Your grandfather's last wish is not something you get to ignore because it's inconvenient for you. "
Jesse took a step back, breathing hard. "Mom, please... You don't understand what you're asking me to do."
"I understand perfectly," she replied, voice steady and cutting.
"You're going to take Francesca out tonight.
You're going to be polite. You're going to treat her with respect.
And you're going to start behaving like the heir you are supposed to be.
If you refuse, I will make sure everyone knows that you broke your dying grandfather's last wish. Do you want that on your conscience?"
Jesse stared at her, chest heaving. The grief, the guilt, and the suffocating pressure all crashed over him at once. His eyes were red-rimmed, but he didn't cry.
He swallowed hard, voice hoarse. "Fine. I'll go."
Rebecca gave a single, satisfied nod. "Good. Be ready by seven. And Jesse. Don't disappoint me again."
She turned and walked away, leaving Jesse standing alone in the living room.
He stood there for a long moment, fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. The promise he had made to his grandfather echoed in his head like a chain tightening around his neck.
He had no choice.
Not anymore.
×××××××
The upscale restaurant was dimly lit, with soft ambient lighting and quiet classical music playing in the background.
Jesse sat rigidly across from Francesca at a private corner table. He was dressed in a dark tailored shirt, but his posture was stiff, shoulders tense, as if he wanted to be anywhere else in the world.
Francesca, on the other hand, was leaning forward shamelessly, her low-cut dress dangerously short and tight, the hem riding high on her thighs. She had chosen a bold red that screamed for attention, and she wore it like a weapon.
She smiled sweetly, but her eyes glittered with malicious triumph.
"Oh, Jesse," she purred, resting her chin on her hand. "Look at you. Sitting here like a punished little boy. You really thought you could threaten your mother and get away with it? How cute. I told you I wouldn't back off. And now here we are. I win. You lose."
Jesse kept his gaze fixed on the untouched plate of food in front of him. His jaw was clenched tight, a deep frown etched between his brows. He hadn't taken a single bite. His hands rested on the table, fingers curled into loose fists.
He didn't look at her. Not once.
Francesca leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "What's wrong, baby? Cat got your tongue? Or are you still sulking because you have to be here with me instead of playing house with your precious little sister-in-law you're too attached to?"
Jesse's frown deepened. His eyes stayed glued to the table. He could feel the anger and disgust rising in his chest, but he forced himself to stay silent. He had made a promise. He had to get through tonight. One date. That was all.
Just tonight, he thought bitterly. After this, I'm never doing this again. I will never marry you, Francesca. Not while Emery is carrying my son. Not ever.
Francesca laughed softly, clearly enjoying his discomfort. She reached across the table and tried to touch his hand, but Jesse pulled it back sharply.
"Come on," she cooed. "Don't be like that. We both know how this ends. Your mother wants this alliance. Your grandfather's last wish was for you to get married. And I... I'm the only one who can give you what you need. So why fight it?"
Jesse finally lifted his eyes, but only for a second. His voice was low, cold, and exhausted.
"Eat your food, Francesca. Or don't. I don't care. But don't talk to me like we're anything more than strangers forced to sit at the same table."
Francesca's smile didn't waver. If anything, it grew sharper.
"Oh, we're going to be so much more than strangers soon," she whispered. "You'll see."
Jesse looked back down at his plate, the frown never leaving his face. His mind was miles away in a quiet home office, with a woman in a navy blouse, her hand resting on the belly that carried his child.
He would endure this night.
But he would never give Francesca what she wanted.
Not while Emery and their son existed in his heart.
×××××××
The gazebo was bathed in soft moonlight, the garden around it peaceful and quiet.
Emery paced slowly along the wooden floor, one hand resting on her tummy, trying to calm the restless baby and her own anxious thoughts. The night air was cool against her skin, but it did little to ease the heaviness in her chest.
Footsteps approached.
Harper stepped into the gazebo, a cruel smirk already curling her lips.
"Waiting for someone?" she asked, voice dripping with mockery as she walked closer.
Emery turned, startled. "What? No. I'm just... here to get some air."
Harper laughed softly, circling her like a predator. "Don't lie to me, mama. You're wondering where Jesse went, aren't you?"
Emery fell silent, her eyes flickering with unease.
Harper's smirk widened. "You want me to tell you? Jesse's on a date with Francesca tonight."
Emery's heart did a painful somersault. She tried to keep her face neutral, but her voice came out quieter than she intended. "Why... why would I want to know where he is?"
Harper stepped even closer, enjoying the way Emery's shoulders tensed. "Don't lie to me. You're flirting with my brother. I know. You're married to one and having fun with the other. News flash, you cannot have both. Jesse is way out of your league. Alexander is too, but you just got lucky."
"I'm not flirting with anyone," Emery said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts.
"Really?" Harper tilted her head, eyes gleaming. "So why are you shaking all of a sudden? Jesse's getting out of your hands, dear. He promised Grandpa Luis he would get married soon. You're leaving this house soon. Tick tock, bitch."
Emery stood frozen, unable to find the words to fight back. Normally she would have retorted sharply, but tonight the pain was too fresh, too deep. Her heart felt like it was cracking open. The thought of Jesse on a date with Francesca hurt more than she could bear.
Harper watched her reaction with satisfaction, then turned on her heel with a final smirk.
"Enjoy your air, replacement."
She walked away, leaving Emery alone in the gazebo.
Emery's hand pressed harder against her bump as silent tears slipped down her cheeks. She sank slowly onto the bench, the cool night air suddenly feeling much colder.
The baby kicked softly, as if sensing her distress.
She whispered brokenly into the darkness, "He promised his grandfather... but what about us?"
The gazebo, once a place of quiet comfort, now felt unbearably lonely.
×××××××