All Chapters of My Other Half: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

The jet landed in their small family airstrip under a late afternoon sky, the Smoky Mountains welcoming them back. Elle and Jack drove to their house *their* house, now Jack’s jeep filled with their bags, their hands linked. When they pulled up, the porch lights glowed, the cream curtains Elle had picked swaying in the windows. Jack parked, turning to her, his smile big. “Ready to start our life, Mrs. Carter?”Elle nodded, her cheeks pink, her heart racing. “Ready, Mr. Carter.”He carried her over the threshold, her laughter loud as he spun her, her arms around his neck. The house smelled of fresh flowers,probably Claire who came and restocked stuff and flowers for them. The beige house walls warm, the blue bedroom waiting upstairs. They unpacked slowly, Elle hanging her clothes next to his, her heart swelling at the sight of their things together. “It’s real,” she said, her voice soft, standing in the bedroom. “Our home.”Jack pulled her close, kissing her forehead. “Our home, Elle

The November air was crisp in the Smoky Mountains, the leaves a vibrant mix of red and gold, but Elle’s heart felt heavy as she woke in their bedroom, the quilt cold without Jack’s warmth beside her. It was the third day of his three day work trip, a client meeting out of state he had put it off for months, not wanting to leave her alone. With his cousin Nate staying in their guest room, Jack had felt okay going, and Elle had sent him off with a brave smile, her lips lingering on his at the door. Now, alone in their house, she missed him fiercely his laugh, his gentle kisses, the way he called her “wife” like it was a prayer.Elle sat up, her ring catching the morning light, her heart aching but steady. She trusted Jack, knew he’d be home today, but the quiet of the house without him felt strange, the bed too big, the coffee pot too empty. She prayed softly, *God, keep Jack safe. Bring him home to me.* Her cheeks flushed, thinking of their last night together, his arms around her, t

The hospital’s fluorescent lights buzzed softly, casting a sterile glow over the waiting room where Elle sat, her hands clasped tightly, her heart a tangled knot of hope and fear. Five days had passed since Jack woke from his coma, his grey eyes open but clouded, seeing her as a friend, not his wife. The doctor’s words echoed in her mind:*Retrograde amnesia. Don’t push him. Let him remember on his own.* Each day felt like a tightrope walk, balancing her love for Jack with the need to protect his healing brain. She prayed constantly, her whispers a lifeline: *God, please, bring him back to me. Help him remember our love.*Elle’s family surrounded her Luca with his steady presence, Claire with her gentle hugs, Linda with tearful prayers, Her dad with quiet strength. Max and Lila, newly engaged, brought warmth, their hands linked, their eyes soft with worry. The town had rallied too, their small Smoky Mountains community sending cards, meals, and prayers to the hospital. Pastor Mark h

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and oats, a warm, familiar scent that clung to the air like a memory. Elle stirred the oatmeal with a wooden spoon, her movements slow and deliberate, as if each circle in the pot could anchor her to this moment and keep her heart from breaking. Two weeks had passed since Jack came home from the hospital, his body patched together with stitches and bandages, but his mind trapped in 2017 a time before their love, before their wedding, before the dreams they’d whispered under the stars about a family of their own. Dr. Patel’s warning echoed in her mind, sharp and unyielding: *Don’t push him. Don’t tell him about your marriage. His brain needs time to heal, or the stress could make things worse.* So, Elle played the part of “friend,” sleeping in the guest room, hiding her wedding ring on a chain beneath her sweater, and swallowing the truth every time she looked into Jack’s grey eyes.She glanced at him now, sitting at the small breakfast table in their

Inside the kitchen, Elle stood at the counter, her hands shaking as she chopped carrots, the knife moving in a jerky rhythm against the cutting board. The soup on the stove filled the room with the cozy smell of thyme and onions, but it couldn’t calm the storm in her heart.She was pregnant. Six weeks along, Dr Lee had told her at the hospital yesterday, A dream she and Jack had shared in their blue bedroom, snuggled under the sheets, talking about nursery colors and the sound of little feet running across the floor. They’d laughed about names Emma for a girl, Liam for a boy planning a future that felt so real, so close. But that was before the accident, before Jack’s grey eyes stopped recognizing her, before his mind slipped back to 2017.Now, Jack didn’t know he was her husband. Didn’t know this baby was his. So Elle will be keeping this secret to herself, her heart torn between joy and fear, lifted by the thought of their baby and crushed by Jack’s confused, boyish smile. She to