Emma had been half-awake when a maid had scurried in and announced that her fiance wished to see her, that he had something to discuss with her. The blonde had frowned some and set her book down, curious and worried. She dressed, quickly and had opted to take the cab the distance to her Doctor's home, not wishing to keep him waiting on her part.
She was shown in and could tell by the look of Henry something was wrong. The tired, quiet way he told Poole to leave them and lock the door.
"Henry. What is it? Is something wrong?"
“The child’s not mine, is it Emma?”The heartbreak in his voice, in his eyes as he said it! Emma couldn't stand it, she couldn't lie to him and tell him he was delirious, that of course the child was. She let out a soft cry and shook her head, silently agreeing that the child was indeed someone else's. She covered her mouth in horror and closed her eyes as tears fell, as the room began to spin. She sat down and was quiet a long moment before she found her voice
( ... )
Emma shook her head and let a cry, and with that Henry began to cry silently himself. Hyde’s final blow to him had been a devastating one indeed…
“Did you, Emma? God, the wedding is in a week, when did you plan to tell me before then? Whatever you do Emma, if you ever hope to save this love don’t bother lying to me again.”
She had not been lying when she said the child was Hyde’s, though, and so Henry accepted her explanation as truth, having to sit himself as the story progressed.
Hyde had conveniently left that little part out of the flash… there had been no gun, no offer, no threat to kill Danvers. Simply Emma, enjoying herself immensely with Hyde, with his name on her tongue.
Henry could not suppress a broken sob as the story progresses, when Emma admitted her lust for Hyde, when she had admitted their night together had at the very least been intended as nothing more than a task, a chore that had to be done.
He managed to shake his head though as it now sat in his hands. “I cannot understand why you would still take anything
( ... )
She let her chest rise and fall before she glared at the man. His words had struck a nerve more tender than any Hyde had ever found. "Excuse you, Doctor Jekyll, but though perhaps I am low enough to try and hide such a thing from you, if I say I meant to tell you before the wedding, you would have known before the wedding. Perhaps it would have been five minutes before we prepared to walk down the asile, but you would have known, and you would have been given the chance to end it
( ... )
"Emma, how am I expected to believe anything you say?" He pleaded. "You also told me once you would never keep such a secret from me, and you evidently have broken your word on that as well. Forgive me for not knowing what to think, Emma
( ... )
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She was shown in and could tell by the look of Henry something was wrong. The tired, quiet way he told Poole to leave them and lock the door.
"Henry. What is it? Is something wrong?"
“The child’s not mine, is it Emma?”The heartbreak in his voice, in his eyes as he said it! Emma couldn't stand it, she couldn't lie to him and tell him he was delirious, that of course the child was. She let out a soft cry and shook her head, silently agreeing that the child was indeed someone else's. She covered her mouth in horror and closed her eyes as tears fell, as the room began to spin. She sat down and was quiet a long moment before she found her voice ( ... )
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“Did you, Emma? God, the wedding is in a week, when did you plan to tell me before then? Whatever you do Emma, if you ever hope to save this love don’t bother lying to me again.”
She had not been lying when she said the child was Hyde’s, though, and so Henry accepted her explanation as truth, having to sit himself as the story progressed.
Hyde had conveniently left that little part out of the flash… there had been no gun, no offer, no threat to kill Danvers. Simply Emma, enjoying herself immensely with Hyde, with his name on her tongue.
Henry could not suppress a broken sob as the story progresses, when Emma admitted her lust for Hyde, when she had admitted their night together had at the very least been intended as nothing more than a task, a chore that had to be done.
He managed to shake his head though as it now sat in his hands. “I cannot understand why you would still take anything ( ... )
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