*two weeks later*

Gertrude had decided not to argue with Emily no more. No matter how hard she tried to cajole Emily, it was like trying to walk through a wall.

She gave up finally on the day of discharge, when Emily told her she would be staying with Jonathan. She also suggested that Gertrude could come and stay, but she refused.

Gertrude had cried and talked about not knowing what she would do if she would lose Emily. Emily had told her that nothing was going to happen to her. The police was already looking for Gabriel who was a prime suspect. Someone had witnessed everything that happened and had given their statement at the police station.

There were other troubles other than Gabriel. The Misses didn't want Emily staying in the house at first, but when Jonathan told her he would move out with Emily, she allowed Emily to stay.

Olivia had gone crying to Jonathan everyday. And today was one of the days she showed up, when Emily was doing her exercises in the park.

"You're doing great," Jonathan said as Emily took few steps while holding him. She would sit in her wheelchair from time to time, but her determination to get back to work made her work harder.

Hannah Cockfield had brought roses and apologised on her son's behalf. She told Emily she could take her time and heal— her spot was secured, but Emily hated being carried around and treated like a baby. Doing nothing felt like a lot of work.

"Is this what you call great?" She was breathing heavily. Walking wasn't an easy task for her. Never had been since she was discharged.

"Even Bella Hadid can't beat you on the runway with both of your legs broken," he said jovially.

"Don't be disrespectful," she stated, looking down at her legs, taking another difficult step.

Olivia approached both of them. Emily stopped when she lifted her head and saw Olivia looking down at her legs.

"Hey, Olivia, how are you?" She broke a smile, holding Jonathan so she couldn't lose her balance. She balanced on her right leg since it was much better than the left.

"We've got to talk, Jonathan," Olivia spoke to Jonathan, ignoring Emily. "About the baby," she added.

Emily looked at Jonathan, confused. "What baby?" She asked.

"Not now, Olivia. I'll come see you after taking Emily home. You see we are busy here," he told her.

"You've been avoiding me for weeks. It's about time that we let Emily know how you were about to get married to me." She didn't get the reaction she was expecting from Emily. "What kind of man abandons his wife and baby?"

"Olivia, I told you we are busy. Please leave," Jonathan commanded her. He noticed how Emily looked at him questioningly.

"My leg hurts. I need to sit," Emily announced, leaping a bit as she fought for balance. Jonathan lifted her and placed her in the chair that wasn't far away.

"Let's go home," he said to Emily, pushing the chair gently. "You've done enough work for today."

"I heard you had a miscarriage during the accident, Emily," Olivia said from behind them after they passed by her. She turned around with a smile on her face when Emily told Jonathan to stop. He did so reluctantly. "You don't have to worry about that because Jonathan already replaced that baby."

Emily turned the chair around using its rim. "What is that supposed to mean?" She asked Olivia. Her gaze shifted between Jonathan and Olivia.

"Oh, he didn't tell you. Why Jonathan?" Olivia smirked, staring at Jonathan.

"Tell me what?" Emily asked.

"You've got to stop this madness now, Olivia." Jonathan frowned. He regretted showing up at her door that night. He regretted everything that happened that night. "It's nothing important, Emily. Let's go home." He turned the chair around to leave.

"I'm carrying your baby and you say it's nothing important? You left me on that alter and you say it's nothing important?" Olivia asked him.

Emily stopped the chair.

"Don't listen to her, Emily. She's crazy," he whispered to Emily.

"Is she really pregnant...for you?" Emily whispered the question.

Jonathan became silent. She remembered how she had been silent that night when he was asking about the truth.

"Take me home," Emily told him after a long moment of silence. His silence already spoke the loudest volume.

Emily was silent on the way home. She never looked at him, though he would glimpse at her every now and then. Her silence was killing him, she knew it.

"It was a mistake, believe me," he finally said to her, when he couldn't hold back no more.

"That's what I've been telling myself in this silence. She's pregnant for you, Jay, and I'm fighting to believe it was a mistake. People don't get pregnant by mistake." She, for the first time, since they entered the car, looked at him.

"It was a mistake. I was devastated that night. I didn't know what to do. I got drunk—"

"...And ended up on a bed with her. Impressive," she interrupted him.

"If you hadn't kept your deal with my mother a secret, this wouldn't have happened. We would have been on our honeymoon."

"So it's my fault now?" She furrowed her brows, pouted.

Jonathan felt guilty for blaming her. He had to change his statement before she took serious offense.

"That's not what I mean. Just forget that. What matters right now is we have each other."

*****

They barely talked for a week. When they did, it was just promptly. Even when she went to get her legs checked, or during her exercises, they ignored each other. At night they would turn their backs to each other.

Emily's legs were getting better. She could walk around without holding anything. The pain was there, but she never stopped.

It was another night time for them to sleep with their backs turned to each other. It was a routine that both of them suffered because they had gotten so used to cuddling.

"Emily," Jonathan called her name in the darkness when they had settled in. "I'm sorry, OK? I'm sorry for getting mad at you that night; sorry for leaving and doing something stupid; sorry for blaming you for my actions; and, I'm sorry for being a bitch." He turned around on the bed. "Can we forget what happened and move on?"

He waited for her to turn around and talked to him, but she continued her pretentious sleep. Jonathan grew tired of waiting for her to talk. He went back into his previous position.

"You just never learn," she said when he closed his eyes. She balanced her weight on one elbow and cupped her right jaw in her hand. "Beautiful speeches end with a make up sex, or a kiss at least."

"I guess I'll never graduate." He faced her, smiling.

"You'll never, as long as it's my classes you're attending," she managed to say before he could press his lips hard against hers.

They began shedding each other's clothes. The heat. Yes, that heat that they brought was between the sheet. The touches. The soft moans. The loud kisses. The touches of genitals. The intensity of desires. They were all right there in a single touch.

"Ouch," Emily yelped when Jonathan hit her bad leg.

"Sorry," he apologised, lifting his weight of off her a bit.

The loud breathing of climax was the only thing heard, after a long, passionate love making. They cuddled in bed, nude.

They had missed each other for a very long time. It brought satisfaction that covered up for all the time they had been deprived of each other by each other.

"What do we do with Olivia," Emily asked, placing her chin on Jonathan's arm that was wrapped around her neck. "I grew up without a father, I know how it feels, and don't ask me if it's a good experience. I don't want another child to grow up without a father."

Jonathan exhaled loudly. "It's up to you. After we get married, this will be your home to manage. You'll decide if the child will come and live with us, or if we will support it while it's with its mother," he stated, placing his chin in the center of her head.

"The child can stay with us, if Olivia agrees. I don't want other mistakes occurring while you go visiting." The short laugh she did eased the tension that Jonathan felt.

"Can we talk about something else?" Jonathan asked. "Or go to sleep. I dislike the thought of having a child with Olivia. It makes me sick."

"What should we talk about?"

"Our wedding. Better still, making a new baby. I don't get tired of making babies," he stated, giggled in her hair.

"You better get tired because I'm only having two kids," Emily informed him.

"And here I am thinking about six minimum, eight max."

"Bro, what the fuck? I'm just twenty-three and you already want to make me a career mom?" She laughed it out.

"We could leave a two-years gap. We'll be finished by forty or something," Jonathan said, pulling her closer to get a bit of comfort.

"We? I'm going to be the only one pushing those babies of yours out," she reminded him.

"I'm going to be the only one pushing them in. Our efforts combined makes it a 'we' thing."

"This will be my home to manage, Jay, and two kids is final. Perhaps I'll feel sorry for you and beget three."

"That's not fair."

"Then go get a vagina."

"I already have yours," he said, carrying his hand down her midsection.

"Stop," she demanded him.

"Should I?" He whispered. His breath on her skin caused the hair on her neck to stand

"Jesus." It came out almost like a moan.

We are definitely having eight kids, Jonathan thought to himself.