Bound

Prologue

"I love you, Riley! You know that!" Eleanor yelled out just as soon as the door closed shut and Riley was gone. She sunk down on the wall beside the door and pulled her knees up to her chest. Summer stood up and went over to comfort her best friend as her heart broke into millions of pieces.

"Eleanor, dear," she murmured softly. "Let's go check on the boys, shall we? They're crying their hearts out."

Eleanor nodded meekly and walked towards her sons' room. They were, indeed, on their little feet crying for their parents. She totally forgot about Peyton needing a diaper change. He was full-blown wailing and Luke's, the older son at a year old, lips were quivering on the verge of sobbing like his brother. Eleanor picked up Peyton and laid him down on the changing table, not in the mood to be changing nappies at a time like this. 

"Let me do it," Summer took over Eleanor's job as she just stared at the wall. She placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye. "Be strong, Elle. Your sons need you right now." 

Her words seemed to have gotten through Eleanor as she went over and picked the crying Luke up. He laid his head down on her shoulder and continued crying. She sat down on the rocking chair by the corner, needing support since she couldn't stay on her own two feet. 

"What am I going to do now?" Eleanor asked softly, her tears dried. Her cold worsened due to the crying, and her nose was running heavily. "Riley helped support most of our financial issues. I can't possibly support my two sons with my salary as a barista and a concierge. Who would watch over my sons when I'm at work anyways? Now I can't even afford the normal babysitter we always hired."  By now, Eleanor was full-blown babbling like she always does when she's in a nervous wreck. She held on tightly to a sleeping Luke in her arms. "What are you doing here anyways?" She asked Summer curiously when she finished changing Peyton's diaper.

Summer situated a wide awake Peyton in her arms before answering. "Riley came to my apartment asking me to watch over Peyton and Luke." Eleanor's eyes widen at the thought that her boyfriend, or ex boyfriend, left their kids unsupervised for a while. "He didn't give me any explanation on why. I didn't know he was going to... leave."

Eleanor sighed and stood up, gently laying her eldest son in his plain white crib. He stirred for a minute but continued sleeping peacefully. She faced her best friend motioning for her to give Peyton to her. He went willingly in her open arms and settled himself in her arms with his head tucked safely between her shoulder and neck.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Summer," she whispered hoarsely. A few tears managed to escape and roll down her dampened cheeks. "Riley's my everything. We loved each other. Well, at least I did. Is this what I get for getting pregnant out of marriage?"

"Eleanor, I know this has been tough for you," her best friend told her, "but all you have to do for now is be strong and be there for your sons. You're twenty-four. You're still young and can still find some other love but your kids Elle... They need their mother more than ever now. You even told me so yourself you had no regret in having them at a young age." Eleanor nodded smiling weakly. "You can do this, I know you can. I'll help out in anyway. Watching over the boys, food. You can count on me."

"Oh Summer," Eleanor hugged her friend as best as she could without crushing poor Peyton in her arms. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

--

"Mr. Jenkins, your father wants to see you now," the CEO and owner of British Airways' secretary called out to her boss' son in the waiting room.

Parker stood up and mumbled a "finally" before proceeding into his father's office that overlooked the Thames river in the distance. The head of the Jenkins family was sitting in his desk looking the uptight person he usually was.

"Hey pops," Parker grinned jokingly. "Missed your son already?" He went to the US in Las Vegas to celebrate his twenty-fifth birthday with a few friends the last week. 

"Sit down, Parker," Thomas Jenkins said sternly not giving any reaction to his sons' remark. Before sitting down, his rebellious son helped himself to some wine in the mini-bar inside his dad's office. "When do you ever get a break from drinking?"

"When I sleep," Parker remarked and sitting down in one of the two chairs in front of his father's desk. "So what's with the urgent meeting, Dad? I know you didn't call me up here just to wish me a happy birthday."

"You're quite right," Thomas said bluntly. "Parker, you know I have to retire soon, and I need my son to step in for me." He knew how much his son despised the job awaiting him.

"Dad," Parker gulped the rest of the wine in his glass. "I promised you I'd take over the company. You don't need to try and persuade me."

"I know, son, I know," his father took his glasses off his face and looked seriously at Parker. "I'm just not sure you're ready for this." Parker narrowed his eyes at his parent wanting him to explain why. "You're in the tabloids every weekend due to your reckless ways! You coming out of a club with a minx on your arms!"

"What are you trying to say?" Parker grinded his teeth, not one bit ashamed of his ideas on how to spend the weekend. 

"I want you to settle down. I need you to settle down before you take on this job. I'm retiring in two years. I'm giving you that time to find a decent bride and settle down and produce me heirs to the company after you. I can't trust you to run the company properly while still a bachelor. You need a woman to change you!"

Parker scoffed and stood up angry at his father. "You're bloody mad if you think I'm getting married! What is this, an arranged marriage of some sort?"

"It could be if you want it to be," Thomas Jenkins blinked, not one bit fazed at his son's outburst. "The darling Heidi Callum, daughter of the CBO, fancies you. I think she's a good pick. I'll make the arrangements."

"No way in bloody hell would I get married to that spoiled brat," Parker harshly said knowing full well that Heidi and him were similar in many ways. Then placing the glass on his father's table, he turned and headed for the door. "I'll pick my own bride, dearest father." And I'll make sure you'll disapprove her. He thought bitterly slamming the door on his way out.

--A/N

New story! Picture to the side is of Eleanor.