Elissa had long noticed that Ernest was grooming Locke to be an heir. The boy hadn’t been with the Flynn family for long, but Ernest’s methods had already begun to show results. Sometimes, Locke wore a seriousness far beyond his years.

“Come,” Ernest said gently, reaching for her hand. “You shouldn’t be bending so much in your condition. Let me wash your hair.”

Elissa hesitated, frowning. “Why not call Laney?”

“No need,” he said firmly, guiding her toward the bathroom. As he undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, he gestured toward the shampoo chair—recently added just for her.

“Lie down,” he said, patting the headrest.

Elissa studied him for a moment and then gave in. It wasn’t worth arguing over something so minor.

“Alright,” she said quietly, and let him help her recline.

He turned on the faucet, testing the water against his wrist before wetting her hair with careful hands. “Too hot?” he asked. “No, it’s fine.”

“Good.” Once her hair was soaked, Ernest poured the shampoo into his palms and began massaging it gently into her scalp, his touch uncharacteristically tender. “It’s a new shampoo,” he murmured. “Do you like the scent?”

“Yes,” Elissa replied softly, her eyes closed.

Since her pregnancy, every detail of Elissa’s life had been adjusted—her food, her toiletries—all carefully tailored to her condition. Ernest hadn’t overlooked a single practical need. But none of that was truly what she longed for.

“Does your scalp itch anywhere?” Ernest asked softly, his fingers gently scratching at her roots. “If there’s a spot that bothers you, just say the word.”

“No, nothing,” Elissa murmured, shaking her head.

“Got it.” Ernest caught the faint tremble of her lashes beneath the soft light. His voice dropped lower, tender and sincere. “All those things you missed when you were pregnant with Locke… I’ll make them up to you now.”

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Elissa said nothing, her eyes closed. The moisture gathering in them betrayed her quiet ache.

If things had turned out differently—if they had married, and this care came from a place of shared future—maybe she could have felt real happiness.

When he finished rinsing, Ernest rose and reached for two towels. Because of the pregnancy, hairdryers were out of the question—radiation and all—so her long hair was always dried by hand, a laborious task. Once done, he filled the tub, preparing her bath with careful hands.

Caring for her had become a ritual for him, something he quietly cherished. He was, in his own way, trying to undo the past, to make amends.

But the one thing Elissa craved most—a marriage the world would recognize—remained forever beyond reach. No matter how much he gave, it all felt like a fragile illusion to her.

Her thoughts wandered back to her earlier conversation with Hadley. Soon, this tangled chapter with Ernest would finally close. It was only a matter of time.

A sense of confusion lingered as Elissa woke. Checking the time, she was startled to see it was already past nine o’clock. Something felt off. Pregnancy had been making her sleep heavier, and it seemed she’d completely missed the alarm. Had Laney forgotten to check on her?

Locke usually needed help getting ready for school, but it seemed he hadn’t come to wake her this morning.

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