Chapter Thirty-three: Jeremy's Plea.
Jeremiah's Penthouse. Jeremiah's study.
Jeremy stood by the window of his study, his jaw tight and his hand running through his hair for what must have been the hundredth time. The city stretched before him in lights and shadows, but all he could see was her—Tammy's stubborn eyes, the way she kept pushing him away even as her hands instinctively rested on her stomach like she was already protecting what was theirs. His chest felt heavier by the second, and when he finally heard the soft sound of her footsteps outside the door, he turned like a man waiting for judgment.
Tammy stepped in, arms folded across her chest, her sweater slightly too big on her small frame. She looked guarded, like someone who knew the exact walls she had built and had no intention of letting him scale them. Jeremy swallowed hard and motioned toward the couch.
"Sit, please," he said, softer than he intended.
She didn't move right away, just studied him like she could see right through him. Finally, she walked over and sat, but the distance between them on the couch felt like a canyon. Jeremy sat forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes locked on her face.
"I need you to hear me out, Tammy," he started, his voice low but steady. "I know you don't trust me, and I know you probably wish that night never happened. But it did. And now—" his gaze flicked to her stomach, "—now we have something we can't run from. And I don't want to run. Not from you, not from them."
Her arms tightened around herself, and for a second Jeremy thought she might bolt. But she stayed. Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but she closed them again and shook her head.
"Jeremy… this isn't about what you want," she said finally, her tone brittle but trembling underneath. "It's about what's safest for me. For them. I don't even know if I'm strong enough for all this. I'm not like you. I don't have an empire backing me up."
Jeremy leaned closer, desperate for her to understand. "Then let me be that for you. Let me protect you. I know I can't fix the past, but I can make sure no one touches you, no one hurts you, not while you're carrying our children. Tammy, I can't stand the thought of you going through this alone."
Her throat worked like she was swallowing something hard, and her eyes flicked to him, uncertain. "And what happens after? When you get tired of me? When the babies come and I'm just some… some burden in your house? What then?"
Jeremy's chest ached at the fear laced in her voice. He reached out, hesitated, then let his hand hover in the space between them. "I don't see you as a burden. Not now, not ever. You're the mother of my children. That means something. It means everything." His voice cracked, and for the first time she saw him not as the perfect CEO everyone worshipped, but as a man stripped bare in front of her.
Silence stretched between them, the weight of unspoken things pressing down until Tammy finally let out a shaky breath. She lowered her eyes, her hand drifting to her stomach again. "I'll stay," she whispered, the words heavy like they cost her everything. "At least until the pregnancy is stable. I don't… I don't want to risk them."
Jeremy exhaled like he'd been underwater and had finally broken the surface. He nodded quickly, relief flooding his expression. "Thank you," he said, almost reverent. "You won't regret this."
She looked up sharply, her guard snapping back in place. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Jeremy. I'm not agreeing to forever. Just… until it's safe."
He swallowed his protests, recognizing the warning in her eyes. He could live with that—for now. Slowly, carefully, he stood and offered her his hand. She stared at it for a long time, then finally placed hers in his.
Instead of leading her back to her room, Jeremy guided her down the hall and stopped at the double doors of his master suite. Tammy froze, her eyes narrowing. "What are you doing?"
"If you're staying, you're not sleeping across the hall like a guest," he said firmly but gently. "This is your home now. And I want you close, Tammy. Not because I expect anything from you, but because I'll sleep better knowing you're safe."
Her breath caught, her heart thudding in her chest. She wanted to argue, wanted to call him out for trying to control her. But the sincerity in his face—the quiet desperation, the way his voice softened on the word "safe"—undid her.
With a reluctant nod, she stepped inside. The room smelled like him—clean, warm, steady—and for the first time since the whirlwind had started, Tammy felt the tiniest sliver of security slip past her walls.
Jeremy watched her walk in, his fists tightening at his sides as if holding himself back. He stayed by the door, giving her space.
"Rest," he said quietly. "I'll take care of everything else."
And for the first time, Tammy believed he just might.