Forgiveness, Trust & Forever

Emily

Jen answered on the second ring.
"Emily?"
My name sounded different in her mouth now.
Not gentler.
Jen was not a gentle woman.
But careful.
Like she had already read three legal disasters, four threatening messages, and one emotional collapse in the space between her phone lighting up and her thumb hitting answer.
"Yes," I said.
Hero stood near the sofa with Eleanora against his chest, one hand under her bottom, the other supporting her back. His face was bruised. His lip split. His eyes on me like he was trying not to want too much and failing with every breath.
Titan's voice still came from Hero's phone.
His mother's from mine, somewhere on the side table, because apparently our lives now required a full audience.
I turned away from all of them.
Not because I wanted privacy.
Because if I looked at Hero while I said what I was about to say, I might lose my nerve.
"Jen, I want to make a statement."
Silence.
Not long.
But long enough.
"No," she said.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
"No."
"That wasn't a request."
"It should have been, because my answer is still no."
I stared at the muted television, at the red lockdown banner crawling beneath footage of empty high streets.
"Jen."
"No, Emily. You are exhausted. There is an active police situation at your property. Your sister is outside giving a statement. Jo is outside giving a statement. Ava is sending threats. Hayden has been arrested. Hero has possibly cracked ribs. There is a one-year-old baby in the room. You are not posting a statement because some director with boundary issues sent a contract threat."
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because annoyingly, every word was true.
Hero shifted behind me.
I heard Eleanora make a tired little sound against him.
Jen continued, "What you are going to do is breathe, send me every screenshot, let Anna and me handle the studio, and not gift the internet a fresh target at the exact moment everyone is trapped indoors with nothing to do but consume other people's pain."
I closed my eyes.
"I am not trying to gift them anything."
"I know."
That softened me for half a second.
Then she ruined it.
"That is why I'm stopping you before you accidentally do."
My eyes opened.
"I'm not an idiot."
"No," Jen said. "You're traumatised. There's a difference, and unfortunately I bill by the hour for explaining it."
Despite everything, a laugh cracked out of me.
Small.
Startled.
Hero looked over immediately.
I waved him off without turning.
"I don't want to be silent," I said.
"I didn't say silent. I said not impulsive."
"There is a difference?"
"A legal one. My favourite kind."
I rubbed my forehead.
The adrenaline that had carried me through Mimi at the gate, through Jo's confession, through Ava's voice in my kitchen, was starting to thin. Under it was exhaustion so heavy it felt like illness.
But anger was still there.
Bright.
Useful.
"They want him on camera with Jo by noon," I said. "After what she did."
"They can want whatever they like. I want a holiday, reliable men, and for celebrities to stop communicating by public emotional detonation. We can all be disappointed."
Hero made a quiet sound behind me.
A laugh, maybe.
A painful one.
I turned.
He was watching me over Eleanora's hair.
Our daughter had her face tucked into his neck, one hand loose on his shoulder, eyes half-closed. She looked wrecked. Tiny and tired and still here because the grown-ups around her could not stop setting fires.
My anger shifted.
Not gone.
Narrowed.
Focused.
"I don't care about defending myself," I said quietly.
Jen went silent again.
I looked at Eleanora.
"I care about defending her."
Hero's expression changed.
So did Titan's silence through the phone.
So did the room.
Jen's voice, when it came back, was lower.
"Then we do it properly."
I swallowed.
"What does properly mean?"
"It means you do not post. You record nothing. You send me a written statement privately, and I decide if any part of it is useful, safe, or legally survivable. It means I send notice to the studio that any attempt to force Hero into a public-facing appearance with Jo while she is a witness in a police matter will be treated accordingly. It means Anna pushes the PR side. It means the police get everything related to Ava, Hayden, Jo, and Mimi. It means you sleep before you become a liability."
"I hate that word."
"I chose it because it annoys you."
"It worked."
"Good. Annoyed is better than reckless."
I breathed out.
Hero shifted again, his jaw tightening with pain.
Eleanora stirred and gave a soft whimper.
He instantly lowered his mouth to her hair.
"I know, baby. I know."
Baby.
Daddy's here.
Every easy word between them used to cut me.
Now it still cut, but differently.
Like a blade being used to remove something infected.
Painful.
Necessary.
I looked away before I cried again.
I was tired of crying.
My body apparently was not.
"I don't know how to write it," I admitted.
Jen softened by a fraction.
"Start with what you refuse to let happen."
I looked at Hero.
Then Eleanora.
Then the hallway, where the nursery door had been closed again for police to check.
"I refuse to let people use my daughter as punishment," I said.
Hero went still.
Jen said nothing.
So I kept going.
"I refuse to let anyone call this entertainment. I refuse to let the studio turn him and Jo into a romantic distraction when Jo helped expose a baby. I refuse to let Ava dress obsession as grief. I refuse to let Hayden call violence concern. And I refuse..." My voice cracked.
Hero stepped closer.
I lifted one hand.
Not yet.
If he touched me, I would fall apart.
He stopped.
Good man.
"I refuse to let the worst thing I said in court be the only thing anyone knows about me as her mother."
The last word barely came out.
Mother.
Not biological mother.
Not birth mother.
Not the woman who left.
Mother.
The room absorbed it.
Hero's eyes shone.
Titan was silent.
Hero's mum made the smallest sound from the side table.
Jen exhaled.
"There," she said. "That's the spine."
I laughed weakly. "It felt more like vomiting."
"Most good statements do."
"Do you teach that in law school?"
"No, I teach it to emotionally constipated actors and women who keep falling in love with them."
Hero looked offended.
I pointed at him. "She's not wrong."
He held Eleanora closer. "I didn't say anything."
"Your face did."
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Because your face is loud."
Titan's voice came through Hero's phone. "It's always been loud."
"Thank you," I said.
Hero glared at the phone. "You're meant to be on my side."
"I am. That's why I tell the truth."
Jen cut through before we could become even more ridiculous. "Emily. Write those lines down. Do not send them to anyone but me. Do not add adjectives. Do not mention specific court allegations beyond what we've discussed. Do not name Eleanora in full. Do not reference the middle names. Do not mention Brandon unless I approve it."
My chest tightened.
Brandon.
Boo.
Things people kept touching without permission.
"I don't want his name in this," I said.
"Good."
"He's not evidence."
"No."
"He's ours."
I froze.
Ours.
Not mine.
Not Hero's.
Ours.
Mine and Hero's and Mimi's and Titan's and everyone who had loved him before grief got possessive.
Hero heard it.
Of course he did.
His face softened in a way that hurt to look at.
Jen's voice stayed steady.
"Then we protect him too."
My throat burned.
"Okay."
There it was again.
That word.
This time, mine.
Jen sighed. "Now. Police?"
"Still here."
"Mimi?"
"Outside. With them."
"Jo?"
"Same."
"Ava?"
"Not seen."
"That we know of," Titan said darkly.
Jen paused. "Is that Titan?"
"Unfortunately," Hero muttered.
"Good. Titan, make yourself useful and do not get arrested."
"No promises."
"Titan."
"Fine."
I blinked at the phone.
Apparently, Jen could command Titan.
That was information I would have liked years ago.
Hero's mum came back through the other phone. "I'm going to make your father call the officer at the gate again. They should not let anyone else near the building."
"Mum," Hero said.
"Do not Mum me. You are bruised, my granddaughter is crying, Emily has had half of Winchester arrive at her gate, and I am one government announcement away from walking there myself."
"Mum, no."
"I said one announcement away."
Titan snorted.
I should not have smiled.
I did.
Then Eleanora lifted her head from Hero's neck.
Her face was blotchy. Eyes swollen from crying. Hair stuck up at the back. Rabbit abandoned somewhere in the living room. She stared across the room at me.
Not long.
Just a second.
But it was enough to make every voice fade.
Hero noticed and turned slightly.
Eleanora reached.
Not fully.
Not dramatically.
Just one sleepy hand lifting in my direction, fingers opening and closing.
My heart stopped.
Hero looked at me.
The room went silent.
Even Jen, somehow sensing the shift through the phone, stopped talking.
"What?" she asked quietly.
I couldn't answer.
Eleanora made a little noise.
A tired, impatient sound.
Her hand reached again.
Towards me.
Hero's eyes filled.
He didn't move.
He waited.
Letting me choose.
I hated him for being good at that now.
I stepped forward.
Slowly.
Terrified that if I moved too fast, she would change her mind. Terrified that if I moved too slowly, she would think I didn't want her. Terrified of wanting to be wanted by someone I had hurt before she could understand hurting.
Her tiny hand brushed my jumper.
Then gripped.
A weak little fist.
Enough.
Hero's voice was rough.
"She wants you."
I shook my head instantly.
"She's tired."
"Yes."
"And confused."
"Probably."
"And you're holding her wrong."
He almost smiled.
"I'm holding her perfectly."
"Your ribs are making you crooked."
"Maybe she wants the less crooked parent."
"She has chosen poorly."
Eleanora whined and tugged my jumper.
I stared down at her hand.
Then, before fear could grow teeth, I held my arms out.
Hero handed her over.
Carefully.
Slowly.
Like passing something sacred.
Because he was.
Because she was.
The second Eleanora settled against me, her face turned into my neck and her little body sagged.
No screaming.
No immediate rejection.
Just weight.
Warm and trusting because she was too exhausted to do anything else.
It still counted.
I held her.
Everyone stayed quiet.
Too quiet.
I looked up.
Hero looked devastated.
Titan said nothing.
His mother made what might have been a sob.
Jen, from my phone, said softly, "I'm going to pretend I don't know what's happening and give you thirty seconds."
I laughed.
It came out broken.
Eleanora shifted, cheek rubbing against me.
I pressed my lips to her hair before I could think.
Then froze.
Hero saw.
His face changed completely.
Not proud this time.
Not even happy.
Undone.
I had kissed her.
Not for show.
Not because someone expected it.
Not because she was crying and I was trying to quiet her.
Just because her head was there and my body knew before my fear could object.
I waited for guilt to punish me.
It did.
But softer.
Like an old dog too tired to bite properly.
Eleanora's breathing evened against me.
Hero whispered, "Emily."
"Don't."
His mouth closed.
I looked down at our daughter.
My daughter.
Our daughter.
Eleanora Brandon Boo Dean Fiennes Tiffin.
The name was absurd. Too long. Too heavy with grief and love and law and war.
But she slept like none of that mattered.
Maybe to her, it didn't.
Maybe to her, I was not a headline or a court statement or a woman who had once asked someone else to take her.
Maybe I was just warm.
Maybe that had to be enough for this minute.
Jen cleared her throat gently through the phone.
"I hate to intrude on what I assume is character development, but we need logistics."
I almost laughed again.
Hero scrubbed his face with one hand.
"Jen."
"What? I gave you thirty seconds. I'm basically a saint."
Titan muttered, "Debatable."
Jen ignored him. "Emily, can you speak while holding her?"
I looked down.
Eleanora's eyelashes rested against her cheeks.
"Yes."
"Good. First, no public statement today. Private draft to me. Second, all contact from Ava goes untouched except screenshots and forwarding. Third, Mimi does not enter the property. Fourth, Jo stays with police. Fifth, Hero does not take the studio call."
Hero's head lifted.
"They'll say I'm in breach."
"They can say whatever they want. I'll respond with the words child privacy, police investigation, witness interference, and reputational self-immolation until they calm down."
I blinked.
"I like her," Titan said.
"I know," Jen replied.
Hero looked between the phones like he deeply regretted every strong woman he had ever allowed into his life.
Good.
He should.
The intercom buzzed once.
Short this time.
Not aggressive.
We all froze anyway.
Eleanora stirred against me.
I held her tighter, whispering without thinking, "It's okay, Boo."
Hero's eyes flicked to mine.
I ignored him.
The officer's voice came through the intercom speaker.
"Ms Dean? Mr Tiffin? We've completed an initial exterior check. No sign of Ava on the property. We found a side door near the rear studio entrance that appears to have been tampered with previously, not freshly forced. We'll need to inspect the inside access and the nursery now."
My stomach dropped.
Previously.
Not freshly.
Ava, or someone working for Ava, had been close before.
Maybe inside.
Maybe near enough.
Hero's face hardened.
I pressed the intercom button from where I stood.
"I have the baby. We're staying in the living room."
"Understood. Officers will come through the main entrance with your permission."
I looked at Hero.
He nodded.
I nodded back.
"Okay."
The officer paused.
"We'll have female officers present as well, Ms Dean."
I hadn't known I needed that until he said it.
My throat tightened.
"Thank you."
I released the button.
A few minutes later, the controlled noise of entry moved through Clara-Bellas downstairs. Doors. Voices. Footsteps in the studio. The building I had built to hold music and movement now held evidence bags and radio static.
Hero stood near the living room door, body between us and the hallway without making it obvious.
I noticed anyway.
"You're doing it again," I said.
He glanced back.
"What?"
"Standing like a tragic guard dog."
Titan's voice came from the phone. "That's my job."
Hero rolled his eyes.
"I'm standing."
"You're blocking the door."
"I'm naturally broad."
"You are not Titan."
"No one is Titan," Titan said.
Jen sighed. "I am billing extra for the family banter."
Hero's mum said, "I'm just grateful they're bantering."
So was I.
That was the terrible thing.
In the middle of all of it, with Ava still missing and Mimi outside and Jo's betrayal fresh and police moving through my home, a thin thread of ridiculousness kept us breathing.
Eleanora slept through the first officer entering the flat.
A woman with kind eyes and a careful voice stepped into the living room first.
"Ms Dean?"
"Yes."
"We're going to check the nursery and the access points. You don't need to move."
"Good," I said, because my legs did not feel reliable.
Her eyes dropped briefly to Eleanora, then away again.
Professional.
Respectful.
No staring.
I appreciated it more than I could say.
Hero moved to follow them.
I caught his sleeve.
He looked down.
"You stay."
"They're going into the nursery."
"I know."
His jaw tightened.
"She doesn't cry in there while Ava's voice is still in it, remember?"
His expression shifted.
He remembered.
Of course he did.
"She's asleep," he said softly.
"Yes. On me."
The words came out before I knew they were there.
On me.
Not on you.
Not in the cot.
On me.
Hero looked at Eleanora, then at me.
Whatever he saw made his face soften.
Too much.
I narrowed my eyes.
"If you make a thing-"
"I won't."
"You're making it internally again."
"Catastrophically."
Despite myself, I smiled.
Then footsteps moved into the nursery, and the smile died.
I heard drawers open.
Soft voices.
A camera shutter.
My skin crawled.
I looked down at Eleanora and focused on the weight of her.
Warm.
Breathing.
Here.
Not the nursery.
Not the photographs.
Not Ava's voice.
Here.
Jen's voice came gently through my phone.
"Emily?"
"Yes."
"Write later. Not now."
"I wasn't."
"You were in your head."
"That is unfortunately where my brain lives."
"Not today. Today it lives in your arms."
I swallowed.
Hero looked at me.
I hated everyone a little bit for being right.
The officer came back after what felt like hours but was probably minutes.
She stood in the doorway.
"We've found something."
Hero went rigid.
My arms tightened around Eleanora.
"What?" he asked.
The officer looked at me, then him.
"In the nursery. Behind the bookshelf. A small wireless camera."
The world stopped.
No.
No.
No.
Eleanora slept against me.
My body went cold beneath her.
Hero's face drained of every colour.
"A camera," I repeated.
The officer nodded carefully.
"It's no longer active as far as we can tell, but our team will confirm. It appears to have been placed some time ago."
My mouth opened.
No sound came out.
A camera.
In the nursery.
In the room I had hidden in.
Cried in.
Sat in while pregnant.
Whispered Boo.
Folded clothes.
Failed.
A camera.
Hero took one step forward.
Then another.
His body had gone very still again.
Terrifyingly still.
"Who placed it?"
"We don't know yet."
His voice dropped. "Find out."
"We will."
Emily Dean, I thought distantly, because sometimes I had to name myself to stay inside my body.
Emily Dean standing in her living room.
Emily Dean holding her sleeping daughter.
Emily Dean being told her most private room had been watched.
I looked down at Eleanora.
She slept.
Thank God.
Thank God.
My knees started to shake.
Hero was there instantly.
Not taking Eleanora.
Just one hand at my elbow.
Steady.
I didn't push him away.
Couldn't.
The officer kept speaking, voice careful.
"We'll need to treat the nursery as a crime scene for now. I'm sorry."
The words should have broken me.
Maybe they did.
But not in the way Ava wanted.
I looked at the hallway.
At the closed nursery door.
Then at Hero.
His eyes were wet with fury.
Not tears.
Fury.
I could see him spiralling through every thought.
Every image.
Every moment I had spent in that room unknowingly watched.
I touched his wrist.
He froze.
"Look at me," I whispered.
He did.
Barely.
"Not now," I said.
His jaw worked.
"Emily-"
"Not in front of her."
His eyes dropped to Eleanora.
Our daughter slept on, cheek pressed to my jumper, one tiny hand curled at my collar.
Hero inhaled like it hurt.
It probably did.
Then he nodded once.
Not okay.
Never okay.
But contained.
For her.
For me.
For the room.
I turned to the officer.
"Take it."
"We will."
"And find who put it there."
"Yes."
"And I want every lock changed. Every code. Every camera checked. Every entrance. Clara-Bellas, the garage, the flat. All of it."
"We'll advise-"
"No." My voice hardened. "You'll document. I'll arrange."
Hero looked at me.
Jen made a noise through the phone that might have been approval.
Titan said, "Good."
The officer nodded.
"Understood."
She left again.
The living room fell silent.
Then Hero's phone buzzed in his hand.
Again.
Anna.
He looked at it.
Then at me.
"Read it," I said.
He did.
His face changed.
"What?"
He swallowed.
"Anna says the director moved the call."
"To when?"
"Now."
I stared at him.
Hero read the rest, voice flat.
"He's already on with Jo's manager. They're claiming Jo was 'distressed' and came here to apologise privately. They want to release a joint note saying we're all cooperating, asking for privacy, and that there was no malicious intent."
For a second, I felt nothing.
Nothing at all.
Then I laughed.
Quietly.
Eleanora shifted, but stayed asleep.
Hero stared at me.
Jen said, "Emily, don't."
Too late.
The laugh stopped.
Something else rose.
Clean.
Cold.
Final.
"No malicious intent," I repeated.
Hero's face tightened.
I looked towards the hallway where police were removing a camera from my daughter's nursery.
Then down at Eleanora sleeping against me.
Then back at Hero.
"No."
Jen's voice sharpened. "Emily-"
"No public statement," I said. "I heard you. I'm not posting."
Jen went quiet.
"But I am writing it now."
Hero's eyes held mine.
"Em."
"She sleeps on me," I said, voice shaking but steady enough. "I write with one hand. You send it to Jen. She tears it apart. Fine. But I am writing it now."
Jen sighed.
Not defeated.
Adjusting strategy.
"Fine. One page. No names except yours and Hero's. No accusations that are not already documented. No emotional flourishes."
Titan snorted.
"She's doomed."
"I heard that," I said.
"Good."
Hero came closer.
Eleanora made a sleepy sound against me.
He reached out and brushed one tiny curl away from her forehead.
Then his fingers hovered near my sleeve.
Not touching.
Asking.
I shifted closer.
Let his hand rest there.
Just there.
"Okay," he said.
I looked at him.
"What?"
His mouth softened.
"We write it."
We.
The word entered the room quietly.
Not romantic.
Not easy.
Not fixed.
But there.
Ava had put a camera in my nursery.
The studio wanted a lie.
Jo wanted forgiveness.
Mimi wanted absolution.
Hayden wanted to call possession love.
The whole world wanted a story.
Fine.
I sat down on the sofa with Eleanora asleep against my chest, Hero beside me with his bruised ribs and broken mouth, Titan and Hero's mum breathing through phone speakers, Jen waiting like a blade on the line, and police in the hallway removing the eye someone had hidden in my daughter's room.
Then I opened a blank note.
At the top, I typed my name.
Emily Dean.
For once, my hand did not shake.