Chapter 40
A sharp knock on the door broke Alex from the storm of his thoughts.
“Come in,” he said, his voice cutting sharper than he intended.
His assistant entered, a folder tucked neatly under her arm. She placed it carefully on the desk in front of him.
“These are the finalized agreements from the legal team. Let me know if you need anything else, Mr. Barrett.”
Alex nodded curtly, barely registering her presence. “Thanks. That’ll be all.”
She hesitated for a moment, perhaps sensing the tension radiating from him, but when he didn’t look up, she quietly exited, leaving him alone in the suffocating silence of his office.
Once the door clicked shut, Alex leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand through his hair. The neatly styled strands fell out of place, a testament to his growing frustration.
What am I doing?
For weeks, he had repeated the same mantra: staying away from Emma was the right choice. It was the only way to keep her safe. He had convinced himself that his absence would shield her from the chaos surrounding his life. But now, as he stared blankly at the ceiling, the weight of that decision crushed him.
The thought of her leaning on Thomas for support—confiding in him, laughing with him—gnawed at Alex’s composure. The idea of Thomas filling the role he had abandoned was almost unbearable. He clenched his fists, anger and regret battling within him.
She deserves better, he told himself, the words hollow even in his mind.
I made my choice to protect her, and going back now would only make things worse.
But his resolve was slipping. The image of Emma’s face haunted him, her smile a distant memory he couldn’t let go of. What if he had been wrong? What if his distance had only pushed her further into someone else’s arms?
He slammed a hand against his desk, the sound reverberating through the room. “Damn it,” he muttered, his voice heavy with frustration.
She’s better off without me, he tried to convince himself again.
But the ache in his chest, the jealousy burning through him, told a different story. It wasn’t just about protecting Emma anymore—it was about his own breaking heart.
* * *
Emma sat at the small table in her hospital room, a pad of paper in front of her. The sunlight streaming through the window cast warm patterns on the page, but her focus was on the list she had been drafting for the last hour. It was practical, full of things that needed immediate attention: setting up a nursery, arranging for a medical team to assist her after the twins’ birth, and navigating her return to work while under a microscope.
She tapped the pen against the edge of the table, her thoughts drifting. So much had happened in the last few months, and now, with Luka and Elliana gone, a quiet had settled over her life that felt both welcome and unnerving.
She had spent weeks fighting for her safety, her reputation, and her future, but now she was faced with something far scarier—deciding what that future would look like.
Her gaze drifted to the small stack of photographs resting on the nightstand, images from the latest ultrasound. The twins’ tiny forms were visible, curled and peaceful. They were her constant reminder of what mattered most.
Focus on them, she told herself. That’s what’s important now.
Emma’s gaze lingered on the ultrasound images, the faint outlines of the twins filling her with a mixture of hope and trepidation. They were her anchor, her reason to endure the chaos Luka and Elliana had unleashed on her life. She traced a finger along the edge of the photograph, inhaling deeply to steady herself. She needed to be strong—for them.
The sound of the hallway outside her hospital room brought her out of her thoughts. The chatter of nurses and the hum of distant footsteps filtered through the door, a reminder that life was moving forward, even as hers felt stuck in limbo. She turned her attention to the day ahead, wondering what new challenges might arise.
Would there be more updates from Marcus or Jack? Another press leak to the weather? The uncertainty weighed heavily on her, but she pushed it aside, focusing instead on what she could control.
A soft knock at the door broke the quiet. Emma straightened, brushing her hair behind her ear.
“Come in,” she called.
The door opened, revealing Thomas with his steady, grounding presence. In his hands, a bouquet of white tulips added a touch of beauty to the otherwise sterile room. Emma felt her tension ease, if only slightly.
“You didn’t have to bring flowers,” Emma said, smiling as he set them in a vase on the table.
“It’s a small gesture,” Thomas replied, taking a seat across from her. “Besides, I thought you could use a reminder that some things in life are simple and beautiful.”
Emma laughed softly. “I could use a lot of those reminders lately.”
Thomas leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. “How are you feeling today? Any less overwhelmed?”
“A little,” Emma admitted. “I’ve been trying to focus on what I can control. Making plans, thinking about the twins. It helps.”
Thomas nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s good. You deserve some peace finally.”
The conversation drifted to lighter topics, and for a while, Emma allowed herself to relax. Thomas had a way of grounding her, of making the chaos in her life feel manageable.
But as the morning wore on, she couldn’t ignore the weight of his presence—or the unspoken question hanging between them.
“Thomas,” Emma said suddenly, her voice quiet but resolute. She hadn’t planned to bring this up so soon, but the words seemed to push their way out. “About what you said the other night…”
Thomas, who had been arranging a small stack of papers on the table, straightened. His expression was calm but cautious.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he said softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed the significance of the moment.
“No,” she interrupted gently, her tone steady. “I need to. I want to be honest with you.”
His gaze held hers, his patience unwavering as he waited for her to continue.
Emma drew in a deep breath, trying to sort through the conflicting emotions swirling inside her.
“You mean a lot to me. More than I can even explain. And I don’t want to lose what we have—this friendship, this trust.” Her voice faltered, but she pressed on. “But right now, I’m not ready for anything more than that. Maybe someday, but… not yet.”
Thomas’s features softened, and the faintest smile touched his lips.
“I understand,” he said, his voice warm and genuine. “And I meant it when I said there’s no pressure, Emma. I’ll be here, no matter what.”
Relief washed over her, and she returned his smile, feeling a weight she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying begin to lift. “Thank you, Thomas. For everything.”
He nodded, his eyes filled with quiet reassurance. “Always.”
The rest of their time together was easier, lighter. They talked about mundane things—her cravings, the news, and little plans for when the twins arrived. When Thomas finally left, Emma leaned back in her chair, a sense of calm settling over her. She wasn’t ready to move on from Alex yet, but knowing Thomas would be there, patient and understanding, was a comfort she hadn’t known she needed.
By evening, Emma was reviewing a stack of documents Jack had dropped off earlier. They were mostly logistical—contracts for her return to work, agreements with the hospital about her medical care—but they gave her something to focus on.
As she flipped through the papers, her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She picked it up, expecting a message from Jack or Thomas. Instead, her heart sank as she saw the sender: Unknown Number.
Her hand tightened around the phone as she opened the message.
“Our families’ stories are far from over.”
Emma’s blood ran cold. She stared at the screen, her mind racing. The message could only be from Luka.
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