< Book 2 Silent Penalty
Book 2 Silent Penalty
“You’ve got that look again,” Emma observed, glancing up from her laptop.
Alek, caught hovering in the doorway of her home office, straightened. “What look?”
“The ‘Is–Emma–pushing herself–too–hard’ look.” She closed her computer. Im just answering emails, not running a marathon.”
Two weeks had passed since Franklin’s cardiac episode. The doctors had adjusted his medications, ordered more rest, but otherwise allowed him to return home. Emma’s physical recovery progressed steadily, her follow–up appointments showing proper healing.
Emotionally, however, the landscape remained frozen between her and Alek
“The doctor said to ease back into work,” he reminded her,
“Answering emails is easing,” Emma countered. “The team needs guidance on the new community initiative
Alek nodded, though tension remained in his jaw. “I’ve got a strategy meeting. Need anything before I go?”
“I’m fine.” The words had become her mantra, repeated so often they’d lost all meaning.
After Alek left, Emma reopened her laptop but couldn’t focus. The fertility specialist’s business card sat on her desk, a reminder of the appointment scheduled for tomorrow. Their first real discussion about future options after losing the baby and her fallopian tube.
Her phone pinged with a text from Mia: Lunch today? I’m in Boston until Thursday.
Can’t today, Emma replied. Still on limited activity.
Then I’m bringing lunch to you. No arguments. 12:30.
Emma smiled despite herself. Mia’s determination was exactly what she needed–someone who wouldn’t
tiptoe around her like she might shatter.
At 12:35, Mia breezed through the front door with takeout bags and an armload of spring flowers. “These are from the cute vendor outside your building,” she announced, depositing everything on the kitchen counter.
“Now, where’s that overprotective Russian husband of yours?”
“Strategy meeting at the arena,” Emma answered, accepting Mia’s careful hug. “How did you know about the
overprotective part?”
“Please.” Mia rolled her eyes, unpacking containers of pasta. “I’ve known Alek for thirty seconds and even 1
could see he’d wrap you in bubble wrap if you’d let him.”
They settled at the kitchen island with food and sparkling water, Mia chattering about her latest legal case and Chicago gossip. For a blessed half hour, Emma felt almost normal.
“So,” Mia said finally, pushing aside her empty container. “Want to tell me what’s really going on? Walter
called me, and I’ve never heard him so worried.”
Emma stared at her water glass. “I didn’t have appendicitis.”
“I figured as much.”
“I was pregnant.” The words felt strange, acknowledging something that had existed so briefly. “It was ectopic
3/3
m
III О
< Book 2 Silent Penalty
-in my fallopian tube. By the time we realized something was wrong, it had ruptured. They had to remove the tube.”
Mia reached across the counter to squeeze her hand. “Oh, Em. I’m so sorry.”
“The worst part is…” Emma swallowed hard. “Alek and I can’t seem to connect. He’s drowning in worry and protectiveness, while I just want to process this in my own way.”
“Which is?”
“Work. Focusing on what I can control.”
Mia gave her a knowing look. “Classic Emma Mitchell avoidance technique.”
“It’s not avoidance. It’s coping.”
“Honey, work isn’t going to heal what you’re feeling.” Mia gestured around the spotless kitchen. “And neither is letting Alek manage your entire life.”
“He’s grieving too,” Emma said defensively.
“Of course he is. But have you two actually talked about it?”
Emma fell silent, the answer obvious.
“That’s what I thought.” Mia gathered their containers, tossing them in the recycling. “You’re both so busy
protecting each other that neither of you is dealing with what happened.”
“We have an appointment with the fertility specialist tomorrow,” Emma offered.
“That’s about the future. What about processing the present?” Mia leaned against the counter. “Where’s the
baby jersey? The positive pregnancy tests?”
Emma’s breath caught. “How did you know about those?”
“Because I know you, Em. You’d keep evidence, something to acknowledge what was lost.”
“Alek put them in his closet,” Emma admitted. “I think looking at them hurts him too much.”
Mia nodded thoughtfully. “And for you?”
“I want to look. I need to look.” Emma wrapped her arms around herself. “But I don’t want to add to his pain.”
“So you’re both silently suffering to spare each other.” Mia shook her head. “That’s not sustainable, Em.”
After Mia left, Emma found herself drawn to Alek’s closet. In the back corner of the highest shelf sat a shoebox she’d never seen before. Standing on tiptoe, she pulled it down.
Inside, nestled in tissue paper, lay the tiny Blades jersey. Beneath it, the three pregnancy tests, each still showing its positive result, carefully preserved in a zip–top bag. A hospital bracelet. The card from the flowers he’d brought to her hospital room.
A shrine to what they’d lost, hidden away where she wouldn’t accidentally encounter it.
Emma sank to the floor, jersey clutched to her chest, finally allowing herself to weep for the baby they never
got to meet.
:::
13
m
> O
