32. Emma
32
EMMA
The shrill ring of my phone pierces the dawn silence, dragging me from a restless sleep. I squint at the bedside clock—5:12 AM. Who on earth could be calling at this ungodly hour?
Groggy and confused, I fumble for the phone, peering at the screen. Damon's face fills the display, the “video call” button pulsating insistently. With a sigh, I swipe to answer, the artificial glow casting an eerie light on my face.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Damon's voice booms through the speaker, punctuated by the muffled sounds of crashing waves in the background. “June wanted to see your pretty face.”
I manage a weak smile. “June? Isn't it a little early for a beauty routine?” I rasp, my voice thick with sleep.
A chuckle escapes his lips. “Apparently not. She's been worried sick about you. Are you alright, Em?”
The concern in his voice sends a pang through my chest. “Yeah, I'm fine,” I lie, forcing a lightness into my voice. “I’m sleeping like a normal person should.” I glance around the unfamiliar hotel room, a stark contrast to the cozy familiarity of my bedroom back home.
“Uh-huh,” June's voice chimes in, her face replacing Damon's. “Why are you awake to answer a call at 5 A.M then?”
“You called?”
“It was a test, Em,” June sighs. “ You put your phone in the silent mode every time before you sleep. Answering this call proves that you haven’t slept.”
“Or I just forgot the silent mode?”
“Sounds suspiciously like you’re avoiding something.” Damon adds with a sigh.
I roll my eyes, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Maybe I'm just a morning person now. Sunrise and all that jazz.”
“Uh-huh,” June mimics, her tone dripping with skepticism. “So, spill the beans. What's going on?”
Before I can formulate a response, a small figure toddles into view. Ethan, his brown hair sticking out in all directions, clutches a well-worn stuffed animal in his little hand. He holds it up to the screen, his face beaming.
“Aunt Emma! Look what Mr. Snuggles wants! He wants to know what I should bring you!”
My heart melts. “Hey there, champ!” I coo, directing my attention to my nephew. “Mr. Snuggles looks like he needs a good vacation. How about he joins you guys on your adventures?”
“Yay!” Ethan squeals, bouncing in place. “Mr. Snuggles is coming!”
I watch them for a moment, a bittersweet ache settling in my chest. Ethan's innocent joy is a balm to my soul, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me.
“So,” Damon's voice cuts in, bringing my focus back to the conversation. “When did you last speak to Liam?”
The question sends a jolt through me. Lying to Damon feels like a betrayal, yet the truth—or at least, my version of the truth—feels too raw to share.
“Oh, uh…” I stammer, searching for an evasion. “A few days ago, maybe?”
Damon's eyebrows shoot up. “A few days ago? Em, this morning, he called me at three fifteen, practically frantic looking for you. He said you disappeared from the hospital and wouldn't answer your phone.”
My eyes widen in surprise. Three fifteen? That was… Liam hadn't even tried to reach out to me before talking to Damon? A surge of hurt mingles with a flicker of anger.
“He did?” I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” Damon confirms. “He's going nuts trying to find you. Em, what's going on?”
Taking a deep breath, I force a nonchalant shrug. “We just…had a fight,” I explain, hoping to downplay the situation. “Big wedding jitters, you know the drill.”
“Wedding jitters?” June scoffs. “You sounded about ready to walk down the aisle the last time we spoke.”
I wince at her words, a reminder of my own shattered dreams. “Things changed, June. Sometimes things don't work out the way you plan.”
“Well, whatever happened,” Damon interjects, his voice serious, “you two need to talk. He's worried sick about you, Em.”
“He'll be alright,” I mumble, more to myself than to them. “He just…needs some time to cool off.” A blatant lie, I know, but all I can manage at the moment.
“And what about you?” June asks, her voice laced with concern. “Are you going to be okay?”
I force a smile, the image of the positive pregnancy test flashing through my mind. “Yeah, June, I'll be fine. Just need some space to clear my head. I'll… I'll talk to Liam tomorrow, alright?”
“Promise?” Damon presses, his tone firm but laced with concern.
“Promise,” I echo, the word a bitter pill to swallow. The truth is, I have no intention of seeing Liam. Not until I figure out what I am going to do, how I am going to navigate this new reality.
As the call ends, a heavy silence descends upon the room. The weight of my lie presses down on me, suffocating. I toss the phone onto the bed, the artificial light from the screen flickering eerily.
Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision. With a choked sob, I collapse back onto the bed, clutching the positive pregnancy test to my chest. It is a stark reminder of the life growing inside me, a constant echo of the future Liam and I were supposed to have.
But according to him, a future he doesn't want.
The image of his face, the way it had hardened with anger during our fight, replays in my mind on a loop. His words, laced with hurt and betrayal, echo in my ears. There is no room for a child in the picture he paints, no acceptance of the life that blossoms within me.
My heart aches with a fresh wave of grief. Leaving Liam is the hardest thing I've ever done, but staying feels like a slow, agonizing death. I can't face the possibility of his rejection, the confirmation that all his affection has been a sham.
I have to get out. Start over. New York City, with its bustling energy and anonymity, suddenly feels like a beacon of hope. There, I can face motherhood head-on, away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers.
This weekend, I will pack my bags and leave. Leave behind the shattered remnants of my relationship, the life I thought I would have, and embrace the unknown. Liam Miller has changed me, yes. He's opened my eyes to love, to the possibility of a future. But he's also shattered that future, leaving me with a broken heart and a life growing inside me.
This baby, my baby, is all I have left. And for this tiny spark of life, I will be strong. I will navigate the challenges of prenatal care, build a new life for myself, and learn to love being a mother. It won't be easy, but it will be mine.
As the first rays of dawn peek through the window, casting a soft glow across the room, a steely resolve settles in my heart. Tears have dried, replaced by a quiet determination. I will face whatever life throws my way, for myself and for the tiny miracle growing inside me.
Clutching the test tighter, I close my eyes, and for the first time since leaving, allow myself to imagine a future, not with Liam, but with the child that is a part of me. A future filled with uncertainty, yes, but also with the promise of a love unlike any other.
The insistent buzz of the doorbell pierces the silence of the room, shattering the fragile cocoon of my resolve. I frown, wiping away a stray tear that clings stubbornly to my lashes. Room service? Unlikely at this hour.
Pushing myself off the bed, I straighten my rumpled clothes and head towards the door. Taking a deep breath, I swing it open, expecting to see a harried waiter with a breakfast tray.
Instead, a pair of familiar grey eyes stare back at me, their intensity stealing the breath from my lungs. Liam stands there on the doorstep, looking like a man haunted by ghosts.
My heart hammers against my ribs, a chaotic drumbeat echoing the turmoil within me. Before I can react, the words tumble out in a furious rush.
“What are you doing here, Liam? I told you I need some space.”
He doesn't move, his gaze locked on mine with an urgency that makes my stomach clench. “Emma, please,” he pleads, his voice rough with emotion.
“No,” I counter, my voice firm despite the tremor running through me. “Just leave. Now.”
I start to close the door, but his foot shoots out, wedging itself into the gap. Panic flares in my chest, a primal urge to flee.
“Liam,” I hiss, my voice barely above a whisper. “Get out, or I'm calling the sheriff's office.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment, then sighs, a sound that speaks volumes. “You've got to listen to me, Emma,” he says, his voice low and urgent.
“I heard enough the last time we talked,” I spat, anger mixing with the cocktail of emotions swirling within me.
“No,” he counters, taking a step forward. “Forget everything I said. This time, it's different. This time, I'm here to tell you the truth.”
I stop short, my breath catching in my throat. Truth? What truth could possibly change anything at this point?
I swallow hard, the words leaving my lips in a hoarse whisper. “Why are you here, Liam?”
He uses the opportunity to push the door open a fraction more, slipping into the room before I can stop him. The familiar scent of his cologne fills my senses, a potent reminder of everything I am trying to forget.
“Emma,” he begins, his voice laced with a raw honesty I've never heard before, “I was a fool. Scared. A coward for the things I said.”
My heart hammers against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. “What… What do you mean?” I stammer, my voice barely a whisper.
He takes another step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch sends a jolt through me, a spark igniting in the ashes of my resolve.
“The truth,” he continues, her voice low and intense, “is that I love you, Emma. More than words can say.”
He pauses, his gaze searching mine. “I was scared, you see. Scared that good things are fleeting, that happiness wouldn't last. I thought… I thought that if I dared to love you, it would all end in bitterness. But then you left, and the thought of living without you… It dawned on me that it would be a far worse hell.”
A tear escapes, tracing a warm path down my cheek. “Liam,” I whisper, her words washing over me like a tidal wave.
He cups my face in his calloused hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tear. “Look at me, Emma,” he pleads. “I may have been scared about wanting a family, but living with you… It's made me realize that everything I was afraid of before… It all seems possible now.”
His gaze drops to stomach, a flicker of something akin to awe crossing his features. “And Emma,” he continues, his voice softer now, “I think you'll make a great mom. You're strong, compassionate, and you have a heart of gold. And maybe…maybe you can teach me how to be a good dad.”
My breath hitches. His words are a direct hit to the heart of the secret I’ve been desperately trying to keep.
“Why are you saying that, Liam?” I manage to choke out, the words thick with emotion.
He looks into my eyes, a flicker of understanding dawning in his gaze. “Because I know, Emma,” his voice is barely above a whisper. “I know you're pregnant.”
The revelation hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating. The air whooshes out of my lungs, leaving me breathless. My carefully constructed walls crumble around me, exposing the raw vulnerability beneath.
“You know?” I whisper, my voice barely a sound. Shock mingles with a flicker of…hope? Is it possible?
“Your dad told you?”
He nods, his gaze unwavering. “No he didn’t…not in words. I stormed into his office this morning and he asked me how I felt about being a parent. That’s how I knew and I rushed here,” he explains. “Around 4:00 AM. I’ve been here since 4:40, I couldn’t figure out your room until Derek from the fishery asks if I was coming to see you in 403..”
He looks excited, barely catching his breath as he speaks. Different emotions wash over me, hot and prickly. The one person I tried to protect from the truth now knows the full story.
“Why… Why aren't you mad?” I ask, the question tumbling out before I can stop it. Doesn't he understand what this means? Doesn't he see this baby as a complication, a constant reminder of a future that wasn't meant to be?
He shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Mad? Emma, in a way, I'm…excited. Excited to start this crazy journey of parenthood with you.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, the warmth of his hand lingering on my cheek. “Excited?” I echo, my voice barely above a whisper. “But… But what about everything you said before?”
“The stupid things I said out of fear?” He counters, his eyes filled with a newfound determination. “I take them all back, Emma. Because the truth is, I can't imagine facing this without you by my side. You're strong, Emma. Stronger than you give yourself credit for. And I believe that together, we can do anything. Even something as crazy as being good parents.”
His words resonate deep within me, echoing the turmoil in my own heart. Fear, yes, there is still fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of this sudden shift in our relationship. But intertwined with the fear is a flicker of something else… Something hopeful. Something that feels suspiciously like assurance.
Before I can overthink it, my body moves on its own accord. I reach out, my fingers tentatively brushing against his cheek. His gaze softens, and he leans into my touch. The warmth of his body immediately gives me a familiar comfort.
“Liam,” I whisper, his name a hesitant murmur on my lips.
He cups my face in his hands once more, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. “Emma,” he echoes, his voice husky with emotion.
And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, our lips meet. The kiss is hesitant at first, a tentative exploration of uncharted territory. But then, something shifts. The dam holding back my emotions breaks, and I pour everything—the hurt, the fear, the overwhelming love—into that kiss.
He responds with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me close. The world around us melts away, leaving only the heat of his touch and the desperate rhythm of our hearts.
When we finally break apart, gasping for breath, our foreheads rest against each other. Tears stream down my cheeks, a mixture of relief and joy.
“I love you, Emma,” he confesses, the words tumbling out in a rush.
I smile, a genuine, heartfelt smile that lights up my entire soul. “I love you too, Liam. More than words can say.”
He holds me close for what feels like an eternity, the silence filled with the unspoken promises that hang heavy in the air.
Now a future is possible. A future built on love, trust, and the promise of a tiny miracle growing inside me.