Chapter 112: Something Big
Henry Jackson sat in the back of the squad car, staring out the window in disbelief, his mind a whirlwind of shock and fury. "This can’t be happening," he whispered to himself, the cold metal of the cuffs biting into his wrists. Rafael’s reach was longer than he’d imagined, a web of influence that ensnared anyone who dared approach. At the station, he used his one call to summon his lawyer, a sharp-minded family lawyer who’d handled many cases for the Jacksons before. Bail was posted swiftly, but the humiliation burned like acid.
"Retrieve my car from Vexley Enterprises’ lot," Henry instructed his family’s secretary over the phone, his voice clipped as he paced the station lobby post-release. "And don’t say a word to anyone about this." He hailed a cab home, the ride a blur of simmering rage. By the time he unlocked his apartment door, the anger had solidified into a cold resolve. Rafael Vexley was a monster, and Henry was done playing by his rules.
That evening, as the sun dipped below the city skyline, spreading golden hues through the wide windows of his spacious apartment, Henry found Eliana in the living room. She’d ventured out of the guest room for the first time in days, curled on the couch with a blanket draped over her slender frame. Her warm brown skin looked paler than usual, her expressive honey eyes rimmed with exhaustion, but there was a fragile spark of life in them. She glanced up as he entered, her soft heart-shaped face tilting in concern.
"Henry? You look... upset. What happened today?" she asked softly, her voice like a gentle breeze, laced with the quiet strength that had always drawn him to her.
He sighed heavily, dropping his keys on the counter with a clatter before sinking into the armchair across from her. The room felt heavier now, the clean lines of his modern decor mocking the chaos in his heart. "Eliana, I... I need to tell you something. I didn’t go to school today like I said."
Her brows furrowed, her lips parting in surprise. "What? Where did you go?"
Henry leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his sharp features etched with regret. "I went to Vexley Enterprises. To see Rafael. I thought... maybe if I talked to him, reasoned with him, he might listen. You couldn’t get through last time, but I was determined to be different. I was going to scream if I had to."
Eliana’s eyes widened, a gasp escaping her. "Henry, no... why? After what happened to me?"
"Because I couldn’t stand watching you suffer anymore," he replied, his voice cracking with emotion. "These two weeks—you’ve been a shadow of yourself. Curled up in that room, barely eating, crying through the nights. It kills me, Eliana. I had to try."
She shook her head, her long curls swaying as tears welled up. "What happened? Tell me everything."
He recounted it all—the new receptionists, the banned photos, his refusal to leave. "They recognized me from some folder. Said I wasn’t welcome. I demanded to see him, paced, argued for twenty minutes. Then security called the cops. I got arrested—for causing a nuisance, of all things!"
Eliana’s hand flew to her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Arrested? Oh, Henry... this is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I’ve put you through so much—dragging you into my mess, getting you in trouble like this."
"Hey, hey," Henry said gently, moving to sit beside her on the couch. He took her hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "Don’t cry. It wasn’t your fault. It was my decision. I chose to go. And honestly? It was almost funny in a twisted way. Me, a Jackson, in cuffs like some criminal. If it weren’t so infuriating, I’d laugh."
A weak smile tugged at her lips through the tears, but it faded quickly. "Still... you’ve been so kind. Taking me in, feeding me, putting up with my grief. And now this? I don’t deserve it."
Henry’s voice softened, yet there was a fire beneath his words—steady, deliberate. "You deserve everything good in this world, Eliana," he said, his gaze holding hers with a conviction that made her heart stutter. "And that’s exactly why I have to ask you something—something big."
Eliana blinked through the shimmer of tears, her breath catching as curiosity began to push through the ache in her chest. "What is it?" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
He drew in a deep, grounding breath, as if steadying himself before a leap. His eyes—warm, determined, alive—never left hers. "Come with me to the UK," he said finally. "I’m transferring to one of the best medical programs there. It’s everything I’ve worked for. But I don’t want to do it alone." He took a step closer, his tone gentling, but the weight of the moment hung heavy between them. "You could enroll too. Finish your degree. We both could start over—no more past hanging over you, no more running in circles. Just... a new life for you and your baby."
The words lingered in the air like a promise—bold, impossible, and utterly tempting.
Eliana stared at him, stunned. "The UK? Henry, that’s... I can’t afford that. My life here, my father—"
"I’ll cover all the costs," he interjected, his voice earnest. "Flights, tuition, housing—everything. You don’t have to pay me back. But if you insist, you can in the future, once you’re on your feet. Think about it: a new country, away from all this pain. And your father—he’s doing great lately. I checked with his doctor. He’ll be discharged in a week’s time, strong enough to manage with some home care we can arrange."
Her honey eyes searched his face, emotions swirling—hope, fear, gratitude. "But why? Why do all this for me?"
"Because I care about you," Henry admitted, his reserved nature giving way to raw vulnerability. "More than you know. And it’s the best thing for you—and the baby. A clean slate, education, safety. Please, Eliana."
He slid off the couch, dropping to one knee before her, his tall frame humbled in supplication. "I’m begging you. Say yes. Let me help you build a future where you don’t have to hide or hurt anymore."
Eliana’s breath caught, tears flowing anew, but this time mixed with a glimmer of possibility. The room hung in suspended silence, the weight of his plea echoing between them like a promise waiting to be sealed.