Steele’s Redemption

Chapter 7

Emma

I woke up disoriented.

For one terrible second, I expected water stains on the ceiling and Derek’s footsteps outside the door.

Instead, gray morning light spilled through unfamiliar windows.

The penthouse.

I let my heartbeat settle.

A real mattress. A door I’d locked myself. Silence that didn’t feel like it was waiting for something bad to happen.

My duffel sat beside the dresser, still half-packed. I forced myself up and started putting clothes into drawers that smelled faintly of cedar.

Normal things.

Shirts. Jeans. Socks.

Then nausea rolled through me so suddenly I grabbed the dresser.

I closed my eyes and breathed until it passed.

Stress.

That had to be it.

My body had spent three weeks trying to recover from bruised ribs, too little sleep, and enough fear to keep my stomach permanently twisted.

I went into the bathroom, splashed water on my face, then stopped.

Three weeks.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

When was my last period?

I tried counting backward.

The shop. The rented room. The night I ran.

Before that.

My stomach dropped for an entirely different reason.

“No.”

⸻

Jake was already in the kitchen with his laptop open and coffee beside him.

“Morning.”

“Morning.”

He nodded toward the counter. “Coffee’s fresh.”

The smell hit me.

I barely made it to the sink before gagging.

Jake was out of his chair immediately but stopped several feet away.

“Emma?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s becoming your least convincing sentence.”

Normally, I might have laughed.

Instead, I stared at the counter.

I couldn’t remember my last period.

And Derek hadn’t touched me sexually for weeks before that final night. Punishment, he’d called it then, withholding affection until I learned to behave.

Until the night he’d decided being my husband meant my no didn’t matter.

“Emma?”

“I need to go to a pharmacy.”

Jake’s expression changed, but he didn’t ask why.

“Okay.”

“Can I go inside alone?”

“Of course.”

⸻

I bought two tests.

Apparently terror made me distrust the accuracy of modern medicine.

Jake waited in the truck without asking what was in the bag. Back at the penthouse, I disappeared into the guest bathroom and locked the door.

Three minutes.

I spent all of them staring at the wall.

Finally, I looked.

Two pink lines.

“No.”

I opened the second test.

Same result.

Pregnant.

I sat on the edge of the tub until my legs went numb.

Derek’s baby.

The thought made bile rise in my throat.

Then guilt followed immediately.

The baby hadn’t done anything.

It was tiny and blameless and had no idea how it had been conceived.

I pressed both hands against my face.

I didn’t know what I wanted.

That scared me almost as much as the test.

For three years, Derek had made every important decision.

Now this one was mine.

And I had no idea how to make it.

⸻

Jake was in the living room when I finally came out.

He took one look at my face and closed his laptop.

“I’m pregnant.”

He went still.

Then he nodded slowly. “Okay.”

I almost laughed.

“Okay?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say yet.”

Neither did I.

“I think it’s from the night I left.”

His brow furrowed.

“Derek hadn’t touched me in weeks before that.”

Understanding started to appear in his expression.

There was something I hadn’t told him.

Something I hadn’t told anyone.

I wrapped my arms around myself.

“There’s something you don’t know about that night.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I want to.”

The words came out sharper than I intended.

Jake nodded and waited.

“He found my escape bag. The money. Everything. He hit me.”

“I know that part.”

“He did something else.”

Jake went very still.

“He dragged me into the bedroom.” My throat tightened. “I told him no.”

Jake didn’t move.

Didn’t interrupt.

“He said I was his wife.” My voice cracked. “Like that meant he didn’t have to listen.”

I stared at the floor.

“I fought him. I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t.”

The word lodged in my throat.

I forced it out.

“He r***d me.”

Silence.

I hated it.

For one horrible second, I wondered if Jake was thinking what Derek always said.

You’re my wife.

Then Jake spoke.

“Being married to him didn’t give him the right to touch you without your consent.”

My eyes burned.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I looked at him.

There was no accusation in his face.

Only concern.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“Then I’ll say it until you do. You said no. He did it anyway. That’s on him.”

A sob escaped before I could stop it.

I covered my mouth.

“I fought him, Jake.”

“I believe you.”

Three words.

That was all it took.

Something inside me cracked.

“I should’ve gone to the hospital. I should’ve told that doctor the next morning. I should’ve—”

“Stop.”

His voice was gentle but firm.

“You survived the night. You got out. That’s what you were capable of doing then.”

Tears blurred my vision.

“It’s been three weeks. There’s nothing left to prove.”

“Maybe not physically.” He paused. “But if you ever want to tell a doctor, an advocate, the police—anyone—you still can. You don’t have to decide that today.”

I wiped my face.

“And this?”

My hand moved toward my stomach before I realized I’d done it.

Jake followed the movement.

“This is your decision too.”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“Then you don’t decide today.”

“What if I keep it?”

“Then you keep it.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you don’t.”

I stared at him. “It’s really that simple to you?”

“No.” His jaw tightened. “None of this is simple. But whose decision it is? That part is.”

That broke whatever control I had left.

I cried.

Not quietly.

Not gracefully.

Jake stayed where he was.

After a moment, I looked at him through blurry eyes.

“Can you come here?”

“Yeah.”

He crossed the room but stopped in front of me.

“Can I sit?”

I nodded.

He sat beside me.

I leaned against him first.

Only then did his arm settle carefully around my shoulders.

Tomorrow, I would need a doctor.

Eventually, I’d have to decide what I wanted.

But not today.

Today, I was pregnant.

I was scared.

And for the first time in years, nobody was telling me what I had to do next.