The Shelby Baby

Chapter 19 - talks

Isaiah's pov
The room was quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Jennifer lay nestled against me in the bed, her head resting on my chest as I held her close. She had asked me to stay, her voice barely a whisper filled with vulnerability and fear. I couldn't refuse her. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she buried her face against my chest, her body trembling with silent sobs. I held her tighter, offering her the comfort of my embrace as she let go of the fear and anguish she had been carrying. "You're not safe here," I had murmured softly, rubbing her back in slow, comforting circles. "I won't let anything happen to you" She clung to me tighter, seeking solace in my embrace, her tears soaking into my shirt. "Thank you, Isiah," she whispered hoarsely. "Thank you for staying."

I woke slowly, my mind still heavy with the events of the night before. Beside me, Jennifer stirred, her breathing deep and even in sleep. I watched her for a moment, the peaceful expression on her face a stark contrast to the tears that had stained her cheeks just hours ago. Carefully, I untangled myself from her embrace, reluctant to disturb her rest. As I moved away, Jennifer's eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at me, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "Isiah," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and gratitude. "Good morning," I greeted her gently, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "Did you sleep okay?" She nodded, sitting up slowly and running a hand through her tousled hair. "Better than I expected," she admitted with a small smile. "Thank you for staying with me." "I meant what I said," I assured her, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. "You're safe here, Jennifer." Her smile widened slightly, a flicker of hope and trust in her eyes. "I believe you," she replied softly.

As she stretched, her eyes caught sight of my hands, bruised and battered from the previous night. Her expression shifted to one of concern. "Isiah, what happened to your hands?" I hesitated for a moment, but then sighed. "It's a long story," I admitted. "After we found out you were gone, Finn told us what happened. He said something hurtful to you, and... I lost my temper." Jennifer's eyes widened slightly, and she reached out to take one of my hands gently in hers. "Tell me everything," she urged quietly. "I confronted Finn," I began, my voice low and steady. "I asked him what had happened between the two of you, and he admitted that he had said something awful. I was so angry that I couldn't control myself. I hit him, Jennifer. I hit him more than once." She listened intently, her thumb gently stroking the back of my hand. "Isiah," she whispered, her voice filled with both gratitude and sorrow. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that." "I'm the one who's sorry," I replied, my voice heavy with regret. "I should have protected you better. I should have been there for you." Jennifer shook her head, her grip on my hand tightening. "You can't blame yourself for this. It wasn't your fault." Her eyes softened with understanding, and she gently guided me to sit on the edge of the bed. "Let me clean these up for you," she said softly, standing up walking to her bathroom. A few minutes later she came back with some bandages, whiskey and rags. Carefully, she began to clean the wounds on my hands, her touch gentle and precise. She dabbed at the cuts with the whiskey, her movements careful and deliberate. I watched her, feeling a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something more profound. As she worked, she kept her eyes focused on my hands, her brow furrowed in concentration. "This might sting a little," she warned, glancing up at me with a small, reassuring smile. "I can handle it," I replied, my voice steady despite the pain. Jennifer nodded and continued her task, her touch soothing despite the discomfort. "Thank you, Isiah," she said quietly. "For everything. For standing up for me, for staying with me. I don't know what I would have done without you." "You don't have to thank me," I replied softly. "I'd do it all again in a heartbeat." After tending to my hands, Jennifer leaned back against the pillows, exhaustion evident in her eyes. "I'm so tired," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. I reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Then rest," I said softly. "I'll be right here." She nodded and closed her eyes, her breathing gradually evening out as she drifted off to sleep. I watched over her, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. Protecting her had become my priority, and I would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

Jennifer's pov
The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. I stretched, feeling a sense of peace I hadn't felt in days. Beside me, Isiah was already awake, his gaze steady and reassuring. "Hi ," I said softly, my voice still a bit hoarse from the events of the previous day. "Morning," he replied, his hand gently squeezing mine. "How are you feeling?" Before I could answer, a soft knock on the door interrupted us. Polly's voice came through, warm and steady. "Breakfast is ready. Come down when you're up." Isiah and I exchanged a glance, the comfort of our private moment giving way to the reality waiting downstairs. "We should go," he said, helping me sit up. We dressed quickly and made our way downstairs. The atmosphere in the dining room was thick with unspoken tension. Tommy, Arthur, Finn, and Polly were already seated. "Morning," Polly greeted us, trying to inject some normalcy into the situation. "Come, sit down." Isiah guided me to a seat beside him, directly across from Finn. As I settled in, I avoided Finn's gaze, focusing instead on the plate of food in front of me. The silence was palpable, broken only by the clinking of utensils. "Jennifer," Finn began tentatively, "I just want to say—"
"I'm not interested," I cut him off sharply, not looking up from my plate. Isiah's hand rested protectively on my knee under the table, his presence a steadying force. Finn's face fell, and he looked down at his own plate, clearly at a loss for words. Arthur, sitting next to Tommy, narrowed his eyes at Isiah. "What's with the sudden knight in shining armour act?" he asked, his tone more accusatory than curious. Isiah met Arthur's gaze evenly. "I'm just making sure she's okay," he said simply, his voice calm but firm. Arthur leaned forward, his posture tense. "She's my sister, Isiah. I don't need you playing protector." "Arthur," Polly interjected, her tone a warning. "This isn't helping." Arthur clenched his jaw, a surge of protectiveness washing over him. Leo's actions had shattered any sense of security, and now his focus was on ensuring Jennifer's safety above all else. But as he glanced across the table, Isiah's calm demeanour as he comforted me triggered a mix of gratitude and unease. "We can take care of her," he asserted firmly, his gaze narrowing on Isiah. "Especially not someone who thinks he can fight his way through every problem." Polly's eyes widened at his directness, but she understood the gravity of the situation. "Arthur," Tommy said quietly, his voice carrying an edge of authority that silenced the room. "Enough." Tommy's eyes flicked between Isiah and me, his expression unreadable. He didn't say anything more, just observed the tension simmering around the table. Polly tried to steer the conversation to safer topics, asking about mundane matters, but the air remained thick with unresolved issues. Isiah stayed close, his silent support more comforting than any words. As breakfast dragged on, Finn made a few more attempts to speak to me, each time met with my cold silence. Arthur's protective glances towards me were matched by his wary eyes on Isiah. Polly continued her efforts to diffuse the tension, while Tommy watched, calculating and thoughtful. When breakfast finally ended, I felt a sense of relief. Isiah stood, offering me his hand. "Let's get some fresh air," he suggested, his voice a gentle escape from the strained atmosphere. I nodded, taking his hand. As we left the dining room, I could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on us. Outside, the air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the stifling tension inside. "I'm sorry about that," Isiah said softly as we walked. "I know it's hard." "It's not your fault," I replied, leaning into him. "I'm just glad you're here." As we strolled through the garden, the morning sun warming our faces, I felt a flicker of hope. Whatever challenges lay ahead, I knew we could face them together.