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Book 2 Double Minor
By dinner time, Emma’s peaceful recovery had transformed into barely controlled chaos. Franklin had arrived with not just Walter, but his day nurse, night nurse, physical therapist, chef, and enough medical equipment to stock a small clinic.
“I thought you were bringing essentials,” Emma said, watching from her doorway as staff arranged Franklin’s things in the guest suite.
“These are essentials,” Franklin replied from his wheelchair–used for transport only, as he insisted on walking whenever possible. “A man has standards.”
“A man has a luxury hospital room in his own home,” Emma muttered.
Alek appeared beside her, expression sheepish. “I may have underestimated the scale of the
operation.” <fn00b4> Th? link to the orig?n of this information r?sts ?n Find★Novel</fn00b4>
“You think?” Emma red at him. “Next time your grandfather–inw proposes moving in with his entire medical entourage, perhaps mention it to your wife before agreeing.”
“He didn’t exactly present it as a question,” Alek defended himself. “More like a royal decree.”
“Wee to life with Franklin Mitchell,” Emma sighed, leaning against him despite her irritation. “I should have warned you years ago.”
Franklin’s voice carried from the guest room. “I can hear you two, you know. My hearing is perfectly fine, unlike my supposedly failing heart.”
Despite herself, Emmaughed. For all the disruption, having her grandfather nearby eased a worry she hadn’t fully acknowledged.
By the one–week mark of Franklin’s residence, they’d established an unexpected routine. Mornings found Emma and Franklin holding court from their respective confined locations- Emma in the master bedroom, Franklin in the guest suite–with staff, team executives, and business associates shuttling between them with reports and updates.
“It’s like having twomand centers,” Alek observed, bringing Emma lunch. “The Mitchell–Volkov Strategic Operations Complex.”
“Very funny,” Emma said, though she couldn’t deny the efficiency of the arrangement. With Franklin handling Mitchell Industries matters and Emma focusing on the team, they’d maintained surprisingly effective management despite their restrictions.
“How’s the presentation prep going?” Alek asked, nodding toward herptop.
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Emma had insisted on participating virtually in the uing league owners‘ meeting, refusing to let her condition limit her professional responsibilities.
“Almost ready,” she said. “Though I’m still debating whether to address the elephant in the
room.”
“Your pregnancy?”
Emma nodded. “The rumors are getting ridiculous. ording to Lisa, spection ranges. from secret cancer treatments to stic surgery gone wrong.”
“Perhaps transparency is best,” Alek suggested. “On your terms, before someone else creates
the narrative.”
“That’s what Lisa said.” Emma pushed aside herptop. “It’s just… once we announce it, it bes everyone’s business. The press, the league, the fans–everyone will have opinions about how I bnce motherhood and career.”
“Since when do you care about others‘ opinions?” Alek asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Since hormone fluctuations made me irritatingly sensitive,” Emma admitted ruefully.
Alek sat beside her on the bed. “Whatever you decide, I support you. Public announcement or continued privacy. Your choice.”
His unwavering support warmed her. These past weeks had shown Emma a side of Alek she’d always sensed but never fully appreciated–his ability to adapt without controlling, to support without suffocating.
“I’ll decide after tomorrow’s ultrasound,” she said. “If everything looks good at twelve weeks, maybe it’s time to share the news.”
“Blood pressure’s still elevated,” Dr. Winters noted, checking the monitor. “Not dangerous, but higher than I’d like.”
Emmay on the examination table, Alek beside her holding her hand as the doctor prepared the ultrasound.
“I’ve been taking it <b>easy</b>,” Emma insisted. “Mostly.”
“Mostly isn’tpletely,” Dr. Winters replied, applying gel to Emma’s abdomen. “And stress doesn’t help, which I suspect is unavoidable in your position.”
The room filled with a rapid whooshing sound–their baby’s heartbeat, strong and fast. Emma felt Alek’s hand tighten around hers, his eyes fixed on the monitor where a distinct shape appeared.
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“There we are,” Dr. Winters said, pointing. “Good size for twelve weeks. All structures. developing normally.”
Relief washed over Emma. After her previous loss, each milestone felt like a victory against impossible odds.
“So everything’s on track?” Alek asked, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion.
“The baby looks perfect,” Dr. Winters confirmed. “It’s mom I’m concerned about.” She turned to Emma. “The elevated blood pressure,bined with your history, puts you at higher risk forplicationster in pregnancy. I’m rmending continued bed rest and reduced stress exposure.”
“For how long?” Emma asked, already dreading the answer.
“Until delivery, ideally,” the doctor said firmly. “Though I recognize that’s unrealistic given your responsibilities. <b>At </b>minimum, through the end of the first trimester.”
Emma nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. Another two weeks of confinement
stretched before her.
“What about working remotely?” she asked. “Video conferences, document review?”
“Limited screen time,” Dr. Winterspromised. “And absolutely no stressful
confrontations.”
As they left the appointment with a new ultrasound image and stricter restrictions, Emma’s phone buzzed with a notification. She opened it to find a sports blog headline: “BLADES OWNER EMMA MITCHELL–VOLKOV SPOTTED AT OBSTETRICIAN’S OFFICE: BABY NEWS OR
HEALTH CRISIS?”
“Well,” she said, showing Alek the screen, “looks like the decision about an announcement has been made for us.”
His expression darkened. “How did they get this information?”
“Someone at the clinic, probably,” Emma said resignedly. “Or another patient who recognized
us.”
“We should get ahead of it,” Alek <b>said</b>, already texting Lisa. “Release a statement on our terms.”
Emma nodded, cing a protective hand over her stomach. The public nature of their positions meant privacy was always tenuous. Now, their growing family would develop under the same scrutiny that followed their professional lives.
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“The statement should be brief,” she decided. “Confirm the pregnancy, request privacy, emphasize that team operations continue unaffected.”
“And your health situation?” Alek asked carefully.
“Minimized,” Emma said firmly. “Thest thing I need is the entire hockey world treating me like I’m made of ss.”
By the time they arrived home, Lisa had drafted a statement for their approval. Emma reviewed it from her bed, making minor adjustments before sending it back with her blessing.
Franklin wheeled himself into her room–using the chair he imed to hate but secretly appreciated for longer distances.
“Heard you’re going public with the news,” he said, positioning beside her bed. “About time. I’m tired of pretending not to know why my granddaughter is confined to bed.”
“You could have just visited less,” Emma suggested dryly.
“And miss watching Aleksander run himself ragged trying to manage both of us?” Franklin’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Never.”
Emmaughed despite herself. For all theplications of their current living arrangement, having her grandfather close had been unexpectedlyforting.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, noting the slight gray tinge to hisplexion.
“Old,” Franklin admitted with unusual candor. “But determined to meet this great–grandchild. He or she will need someone to teach them how to properly intimidate board members.”
“I think Alek and I can manage that lesson,” Emma said with a smile.
“Perhaps,” Franklin conceded. “But some things require a Mitchell touch.”
As if summoned by his name, Alek appeared in the doorway. “Statement’s been released,” he reported. “Lisa says to expect media calls but she’ll handle everything.”
“Good, Emma sighed, suddenly exhausted from the day’s events. “One less thing to worry
about.”
“You should rest,” Franklin dered, signaling Walter to wheel him out. “Doctor’s orders.”
After they departed, Alek sat beside Emma on the bed. “How are you really feeling? About the news getting out?”
“Relieved, honestly,” Emma admitted. “Now we can stop hiding and start nning openly.”
< Book 2 Double Minor
Alek ced his hand gently on her stomach. “nning for three.”
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The simple statement carried such weight of hope and responsibility that Emma felt momentarily overwhelmed. Despite theplications–bed rest, health concerns, public scrutiny–they were creating something miraculous together.
Their family, growing against all odds. Like a double minor penalty in hockey–challenging but survivable with the right strategy and support.
And support, Emma reflected as she heard Franklin’s voice directing his staff in the hallway, was something they had in abundance–even if it came withplications of its own.
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