AN./ To those of you who were wanting this chapter to be happier… *cringes* I'm really, really sorry about this. –Bec xx

Chapter 10: JJ's POV

I'd lived in this house.

On weekends and holidays, yes, but I'd still lived here. This was the house where my son was conceived and where Will and I lay awake in the months that followed, discussing baby names and comparing the safety ratings on different models of cribs and strollers. We'd had our problems—Will thought I was too attached to my job and not attached enough to him; I thought he was stubborn and more concerned with 'doing things right' than doing things in a way that made us happy and suited our lifestyles. Still, when Henry was born I was sure things would get better. For a while they even did.

Will started coming home earlier, taking every second he could off work to be at home with Henry and I. He bought me flowers on his way home and toys for our boy—more than Henry ever needed. As for Henry, he is—and was from the second he came into the world—the light of my life. I should have been happy, but the excitement wore off.

That's a fucking horrible thing to say. I'm a horrible person for saying it.

There should be more tying a woman to her husband and child than excitement. What about love? Loyalty? I knew I felt those things fiercely toward Henry, but as the days bled together and the routines Will and I had shared re-formed—this time revolving around a baby who cried all through the night—I realised that not only had I never loved Will, but the baby hadn't fixed it like I hoped it would either.

Still, I strongly felt I had no right to be unhappy. I kept it inside for years, letting Henry grow up with the expectation of always having his daddy around. And then who on earth was I to make them both miserable by separating them? Especially when I couldn't be sure that leaving Will would even make me happy myself. What if I selfishly tore my family apart and things didn't get any better? What if Will fought me and I lost my son altogether?

Will never tried to understand how I felt. He did his best to be kind, to be the patriarch he thought Henry and I needed him to be, but he did it in a stock-standard way learned from watching his own father. He never asked me what I wanted or how he could help, and I suffered through his many, vain assumptions about what we needed to do to be a real family—a proper family—again. Because even he could tell that whatever we were wasn't a family.

In the end, our joint failure to find happiness became so clear that it barely needed stating. We stopped attempting to communicate and our lawyers fashioned the relatively angst-free agreement that I would take Henry back to DC with me. I told him he could visit anytime but he rarely did. It wasn't long before he had found another wife and another child—a second chance. Honestly, I was relieved when I found out.

Now that I could see Will was happy and fully recovered from our time together, it took some of the pressure off me and my failings as a wife. I hadn't broken his heart—how could I when I never really had it to begin with?

Yet although my life had improved since the divorce, and even more since I'd found Emily, I couldn't feel happy to be back in Will's home. Reminders of our life together were everywhere and I was terrified of what he would think if he found out about Emily and I. Everything I'd done with her had been patently selfish, entirely about me. It was sheer luck that Henry loved her too, but I doubted Will would be so forgiving. Would he have something to say about me bringing another woman into his son's life? He was doing the same thing by marrying Melissa, wasn't he? Or was that different…? It always seemed to be different when it was something he was doing, rather than me.

"Jen, is everything okay?" Will asked. He tossed a concerned look down the hallway, where Emily had just disappeared in search of the bathroom. "Doesn't she wanna be here?"

I didn't even want to be here. I couldn't imagine how Emily felt.

"It was just a hard case," I answered dismissively. "She'll be fine. …Sorry."

"And what about you?" Will pressed. "Are you taking care of yourself, Jennifer? If you need me to take Henry for a while—"

"No!" I took a deep breath. I'd spoken too quickly, too vehemently. Will and Melissa exchanged a glance before looking back at me. "Sorry," I repeated, hating myself a little. "Really, sorry. We've been miserable company. Maybe we shouldn't stay for dinner after all."

"Don't be silly," Melissa chided me, getting to her feet. "Dinner won't be ten minutes now. You can eat and then get back home and have an early night. We won't keep you." To my surprise she laid a hand on my shoulder. I offered a shaky smile in response. "I'll just set the table quickly. Will, you can entertain Jen while I'm gone, right?"

Will looked very much like he'd just been thrown in the deep end of an Olympic swimming pool but he nodded anyway and Melissa bent to give him a quick kiss before slipping away. He looked down at his hands as the door closed behind her.

"She's great," I felt compelled to say. "Melissa, I mean. I really like her."

"I— Yeah, so do I," Will answered—stupidly, because he'd already married her. "And are you… Is there anyone special in your life right now?"

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. It was one thing not to mention that Emily and I were a couple, but it was another thing entirely to lie about it. I'm not ashamed, I insisted to myself. Why should it even matter? Yet it did.

Emily returned just as I was getting ready to reply, one way or the other, and I had to bite my lip to stop myself.

"Jayj, you okay?" she asked immediately, glancing between Will and I and if trying to get a read on our body language.

I forced myself to nod.

"Emily," I said to Will, hoping that would be enough. Yet his nonplussed expression told me I was going to have to elaborate. "Emily and I… have been seeing each other."

"Henry already knows," Emily offered, trying to be helpful as Will's eyes flew to his son. She took a step toward Henry but Will held up a hand to stop her. He avoided eye contact with either of us.

"Come here, buddy," he called and I fought the urge to lift Henry myself as he obediently scrambled into his father's lap.

He was my son. I'd given birth to him. He was mine.

"What's wrong, daddy?" Henry asked, sensing the tension building in the room. "Why's everyone sad?"

Will dodged the question. "Are you sad, buddy?"

Henry shook his head emphatically but his eyes betrayed his confusion. He looked lost.

Will scraped a hand through his son's hair and then asked, "Mom spends a lot of time with Emily, huh, buddy?"

Henry glanced at me and then at Emily, his eyes wide and uncertain. I wanted to tell Will to stop interrogating him—he knew something was wrong and he was scared—but, as usual when it came to my relationship with Will, I said nothing.

"You can tell your dad anything you like," Emily assured him. "You're not in any trouble." Still, she lingered in the doorway, unnaturally still, like she was preparing either to bolt or to be asked to leave at any moment. I wished I could comfort her somehow but I was frozen in place.

"…If mommy and Aunty Em got married, Emmy could be my mum," Henry answered softly, hopefully, placing his little hands on Will's chest. "She could live with us and we could play together all the time and mommy would never be lonely."

"Married?" Will repeated the word, seemingly without comprehending it.

A wave of nausea passed over me.

"That's not—" I bit back a desperate sigh. There had to be some way of saying this without angering Will, confusing Henry, or hurting Emily, didn't there? "Emily and I aren't actually—"

"We're not getting married," Emily finished dully. I didn't dare look at her. I could hear well enough that she wasn't happy.

As soon as we get out of this house I promise I'll make it up to you, I bargained silently. It was this house. This goddamn house. Everything was going wrong.

"I should fucking hope not," Will snapped. "What are you involving our son in, Jennifer? He's just a kid!"

I could see Henry's eyes widen as his father swore and rage rose up in me like bile. "He's not in the bed with us!" I cried, and there was probably nothing worse I could have said. Will's face hardened into anger.

"Daddy, what's wrong?!" Henry begged.

Chloe had started to cry and now Melissa appeared at the kitchen door.

"Dinner's ready," she began to say, but she stopped as Will stood abruptly and thrust Henry toward her. Bewildered, she took Henry into her arms and placed a protective hand on the back of his head. Chloe ran up to her and grabbed her mother's leg, as she'd done to Will earlier.

I watched as Melissa threw Emily a worried glance and something passed between them, a silent exchange beyond my understanding.

"Jennifer, I think you should leave," Will ground out.

"We will, but not without Henry." This was Emily—I was too stunned to speak.

"I am Henry's father, you fuckingdyke," he spat, only growing angrier at her presumption to argue. "This is my house and I want you out of it, now! Both of you!"

"Henry's home is in DC with his mother," Emily insisted. Her voice was calm, if taut, and her hand came to rest on her weapon automatically. As if that would help—Will was a detective. "And, not that I care what you call me, but we don't use words like that around Henry."

"Emily," I tried to reason with her but she threw me a look that was total fury and that shut me up. I watched helplessly as Henry buried his face in Melissa's shoulder and Chloe sobbed against her mother's skirt.

"Henry's got to learn to be a man," Will spat. "I won't have him raised by two godforsaken—"

"William," Melissa's voice came out shrilly and seemed to surprise her as much as the rest of us. "William," she repeated at a more natural pitch but with no less rage, "I swear, if you finish that sentence, I am taking Chloe and walking out the door right now. All we've heard from Henry all week is how much fun he's been having with Jennifer and Emily. If you're going to tell him that's wrong, I'm not sure I want you in my daughter's life either."

"Melissa, darlin'..."

It grated on me to hear Will call her the pet name he'd once called me. Not because I was jealous—how could I be jealous of Melissa now?—but because I recognised the insidiousness behind his wheedling tone. He could turn the charm on like a tap but if you didn't do as he said, he was a monster. Then when he got his way it'd be darlin', darlin', I love you, I'm sorry…

"I have custody over Henry and I'm taking him home," I found the courage to say. And instead of asking twice, I walked around him and lifted my son out of Melissa's arms. She didn't protest; in fact, she seemed relieved. She immediately bent to pick up her own daughter and soothe her tears. To Will I continued, "You can visit Henry in DC under the terms of our agreement but if you've got any brains you'll stay away for a while."

"You've lost your damn mind if you think I'm not going to fight this, Jennifer."

Will took a step toward me but it was Melissa who held him back this time, although she still balanced Chloe in one arm. Emily moved between us too, a second line of defence, but she didn't engage Will.

"I'm sorry," Melissa directed toward us and Emily nodded.

"It really was nice to meet you," she replied.

Melissa nodded tensely and then gestured to the door. I noticed that Emily still had a hand on her weapon and she didn't move until Henry and I were safely out of sight. She said something else to Melissa then before following me. I didn't catch it but I was beyond caring. I just wanted to get out of the house.

Will was screaming again before we'd even reached the car and, true to her word, Melissa and Chloe were out the door next. Melissa shot me a conflicted look and I tried to say something to her—either to thank her or to apologise, I don't know—but my voice stuck in my throat. I felt Emily's hand covering mine, directing me to buckle Henry into his seat, and then, just as quickly, she was gone. I saw her pass Melissa her card before hurrying back.

Melissa drove off just as Will emerged from the front door, hurling a string of curses after her, and Emily's hand on my back guided me into the car. Once she'd climbed in the driver's side, she locked the doors and immediately pulled out onto the street. She didn't even acknowledge Will screaming after us.

That was the second family I'd destroyed with my selfishness, I realised as Melissa's car turned a corner out of sight. I felt insanely guilty.

"Something's wrong with daddy," came Henry's quiet voice as silence fell.

It's mommy who's messed up, I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. I couldn't doubt myself in front of my son, and I didn't want to give Emily any ammunition to try and discuss it with me. I just wanted to get out of this goddamned city and never have to think about Will or any of this ever again.

When I didn't reply, Henry's eyes locked onto Emily entreatingly. I saw her meet his gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Your dad'll be fine, kiddo," she promised, sounding far away. "He just needs to calm down. Once he does, we'll sort this out. Don't you worry."

"He got mad when I said you should marry mommy," Henry mumbled. "I'm sorry. It's my fault everyone's angry..."

"It is not," I barked, too sharply. Then I stretched an arm around his little shoulders apologetically and pulled him in close. "Henry, this is my fault. Not yours. Not one little bit."

"How come?" Henry asked. "…Mom?"

I shook my head, fighting a second wave of nausea. "Not right now, Henry."

Henry nodded sadly and I felt one of his little arms slip around my waist in return. I was already holding back tears and now I was shaking. I hated myself for losing it in front of him.

Still, I thought Henry would drop it after that and maybe get some rest before we had to fly back to DC. Instead he turned to Emily.

"Emmy," he asked softly. "What's a dyke?"

I watched Emily's hands tighten on the steering wheel. She shook her head and Henry stopped asking questions.