35. Emma
35
EMMA
I gave myself one day to cry over the loss of the summer course and the shocking news of being pregnant. One day to get out all the pain and the fear, and then it was time to fix things.
At least fix the things I was in control of fixing. My recent pregnancy discovery prompts me to head to my parents' house in the hope of making amends with them. Part of me just wants to talk to my mom and tell her how scared and unprepared I am to have a baby. The other part of me wants to give them a chance—one chance for them to show me that they care for me, as their daughter, above all else.
I’m falling in love with three men and I have a baby in my belly that could belong to any one of them.
I want my mom.
Much like when I was younger, my yearning for parental affection and support goes unanswered. Instead, when Mom opens the door, I’m met with a cold stare and a grimace.
“Emma,” she says tartly. “What are you doing here?” She looks me up and down. While her lips purse, she keeps her opinion to herself for once and eyes me sharply.
“It…Well, usually we would be having our monthly dinner today and I miss you and Dad. So I thought I would come and see how you are.”
A cold look of disbelief crosses Mom’s face, then she turns away and stalks inside. She leaves the door open, which serves as my invitation to come inside. Maybe there’s still hope.
I follow her through to the lounge where my father sits with his nose buried in the paper. He curls one side and eyes me, then snaps the paper back up to hide his face.
“Do you need more money?” Dad barks before I’m even fully in the room.
“No,” I reply as a pulse of heat trickles down my arms. “I’m not here for that—or for anything. I just want to talk.”
“So talk.” Mom perches next to Dad, her lips pursed so tightly that all the color from her lipstick vanishes.
My hope of being welcomed with warm, open arms quickly crumbles. If they can’t accept me and the life I am building, then maybe they do not deserve to learn about my baby.
A baby that I’m so painfully unprepared for. I have no idea what to do, and standing before my mom just makes the ache in my chest even worse. I want her to hold me and tell me it will be okay. I want her to advise me, to tell me what I’m supposed to do. Do I keep the baby? Get rid of it? If I keep it, how on earth do I raise it?
The silence drags on between us. I wet my lips and take a deep breath.
“You’re my parents and I?—”
“Are you here to ask for forgiveness?” Dad speaks sharply, lowering his paper again. “Because the next words from you better be I’m sorry .”
I hesitate, words catching in my throat. He wants an apology? For what?
Hesitation quickly gives way to frustration and a heated anger sweeps up my chest. Like long, caressing fingers, it works into my muscles and neck. I tense immediately.
“No,” I say. “I’m not here to apologize. I’m here to give you both a chance to apologize.”
“Excuse me?” Mom gasps sharply.
“I’m in love. I’m in love with three wonderful men who have treated me better than I could ever imagine. Maybe even better than I deserve. They see me. The real me. They support me in my work, in my passions, and they have been doing everything they can to care for me.”
I know that if I texted any one of them right now, they would come. That kind of trust is something I will never get again, and I don’t ever want to lose it.
And yet…this surprise baby might risk all of that.
“I love them. That’s…a revelation for me, really, but it’s true. I love them and they are the most important people in the world to me. They’ve also given me more support toward my future than either of you have. I will graduate in a few weeks but only because I’ve come this far. I won’t throw it away. Then I’m going to pursue what I’m good at, what I’m passionate about.”
“Which is?” Mom asks, her voice tight.
“Photography. You’ve seen some of my work. I have a small client list already and I plan on expanding. I’m good at it, and I hope you can find it within yourselves to be happy for me.”
My father’s face is unreadable. He stares hard at me while my mother clutches at her neck.
“Don’t be so ridiculous Emma, you have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“I do. I know how I feel and I know what I want to do. And you—” My words catch in my throat, sitting heavy behind my tongue as emotion wells. “You’re my parents. You’re supposed to care for me and support me. Please.”
“All of our money going to waste,” Dad snaps suddenly. “Do you think we paid for your tuition just so you could throw it away and not even do anything with your degree when it’s over?”
My heart sinks. Is that all he really cares about?
“Perhaps I wasn’t clear .” Dad closes the newspaper and slowly sets it aside. “I paid for your schooling. That diploma is mine and you will be applying for the job I have set up for you. Whatever this disgusting, rebellious nonsense is, it’s over. Do you understand me? No more games. No more bullshit .”
It’s jarring to hear him swear so openly. I take a half step backward.
“I will not let you throw your life away or waste my money like this.”
“I will pay it back,” I reply shakily, curling my hands into fists as if that will keep my voice under control. “I will pay you back every cent.”
“Oh Emma, stop being so ridiculous,” Mom snaps.
“I’m not!”
“You are!” Dad yells. “It’s quite simple. I have a plan laid out for you, and you will follow it, or Asher will find himself out of a job and out of a career.”
Asher .
Unfortunately, even the thought of him doesn’t warm me in this moment but as I recall his earlier words, I manage to keep my strength to not allow myself to be bullied.
“Asher is his own man and he has made it clear that he is in charge of his own decisions. He chooses me, Dad. Your threats are meaningless. I came here, hoping that we could?—”
“Hoping what?” Dad interrupts. “You think you can take advantage of our generosity? Shame my name like this and then come back and I’ll welcome you with open arms?”
My heart breaks, and with that pain comes a small rise of shame. Honestly, what else did I expect? Time and time again, they have shown me what they really think of me and what I do. Did I really expect anything different this time?
My dream of their support helping me with this baby and what to do next crumbles into dust.
They’re so focused on themselves, on what I owe them and on what they think I should do that they haven’t stopped once to even ask me how I am.
The realization comes like a cold sliver of ice sliding into my heart. They don’t care about me, not really. And they definitely wouldn’t care about my baby.
They’re too cold to care about anyone other than each other.
I’m not sure how I make it out of the house in one piece, but I manage to hold it together until I’m in my car. Then, the tears come. They’re familiar tears that have been triggered by my parents countless times over the years, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I need a distraction otherwise I’ll shake apart at the seams. I think about calling Finn and the others, but they mentioned they had something to deal with today so instead, I call my best friends.
“Emma?” Meghan sounds like she’s outside by how the wind seems to steal her voice as she speaks. “Are you alright?”
“What’s wrong babe?” Ana asks.
I focus on the road and grip the steering wheel, doing everything I can to stop the upset from taking over.
“I went to see my parents,” I say, fighting the sobs.
“Oh, honey.” Ana’s understanding is immediate.
“I went to tell them that I’m pregnant. I had this stupid hope that maybe it would suddenly fix everything between us and they would remember that I’m their daughter. That they’re supposed to love me but instead, my dad is yelling about me wasting his money and my future. Somehow I’m going to have to pay back the tuition they paid for. And my mom. She looked at me like she couldn’t believe we were related.”
“Hold up!” Meghan yells. “I’m sorry, I know you’re upset but did you just say you’re pregnant?!”
“You took the test!” Ana squeals. “Oh my God!”
Their warm reaction makes me smile amidst the slow falling tears. “Yeah, I uh…yeah. I am. I haven’t told anyone though. I wanted to tell my mom because I—fuck, I don’t know. I wanted my mom’s love or something and instead I got her hatred.”
“Congratulations!” Ana and Meghan yell at the same time.
“Wait,” Meghan adds. “Are you happy about the baby? Is this a good thing?”
“I don’t know,” I weep. “I never told them, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
“Fuck your parents,” Ana remarks. “You don’t need that kind of bullshit in your life and honestly, your baby doesn’t either. Your guys, on the other hand, I bet they’ll be over the moon!”
“You think so?” I ask through my tears.
“We know so,” Meghan says.
“I don’t know. Babies are big. They’re huge . And each of them has lived their lives, right? Do you really think they want to be changing diapers at their age? We’ve never even mentioned something like this before. It’s all been about fun.”
“Honey, men who only care about fun wouldn’t have stuck with you through all the bullshit. I mean, Caspian’s studio? You sleepwalking into the woods? Finn getting attacked in your apartment?” Ana scoffs goodheartedly. “Girl, they’re in it for the long run if that didn’t send them fleeing with their tails between their legs.”
“You think so?” I laugh wetly, pulling to a stop at a red light.
“I know so,” Ana continues. “I mean, you still have to talk to them about it but I guarantee, men that are willing to give up their jobs for you are not the kind of men that run away at the thought of babies.”
“Exactly,” Meghan agreed. “Didn’t they have a whole speech about being men and not boys?”
“Something like that,” I sniffle, already starting to feel calmer.
“Besides, if they do fuck you over and you want to keep the baby, we’ll help you,” Ana declares. “I’ve always wanted to be a cool aunt.”
“Me too,” Meghan says loudly.
“Are you sure?” Ana scoffs. “No speeches about Emma having a baby out of wedlock?”
“I’m working on it,” Meghan laughs.
“Where are you guys anyway?” I ask, contemplating detouring to them for a real pep talk and hug.
“I’m on a train,” Ana says. “I have my last exam that doesn’t even matter but there’s something about extra credit.”
“And I’m at a church festival, you wanna come by?” Meghan asks.
Ah. Explains the wind. Somehow being around a church right now doesn’t match my mood.
“Nah, it’s okay. I’m just gonna head home.”
“Okay,” Ana says softly. “But keep your chin up, babe. Okay? Your parents? Fuck ‘em. Focus on your future, and know that whatever you decide to do, we will support you.”
I intend to go home, but instead, I drive around until the sun sinks low over the horizon and darkness creeps into the sky. Part of me was wasting time, hoping that by the time I got back to Finn’s place, he would be there. Unfortunately, I didn’t time that right, and when I walk through the door, the apartment is empty.
Maybe for the best. I need to wash up and hide the fact I’ve been bawling all day while also coming up with a plan about the baby.
The more I think about it, the scarier it becomes. There’s a life inside me. A life that’s going to arrive in my fucked-up life and make everything so much more intense.
“Fuck,” I murmur, trudging toward the bathroom. Before I get there, a notification pings up on my phone. A courier is on their way to deliver a parcel to my apartment.
A parcel?
I didn’t order anything recently, did I?
I almost ignore the text until a thought pops into my mind. The cops might be sending some stuff back to me, or it might be related to graduation. I do have a gown on order, but I thought I had to pick that up.
Shit. The last thing I need is the cost of replacing a rented graduation gown.
Abandoning my thoughts of a bath, I hurry out of Finn’s apartment and head back to my car. If I drive quickly enough, I should be able to intercept the courier and pick up the parcel before any wandering eyes find a reason to steal it.
The drive back to my apartment is quick, but as I pull up to my apartment, my heart sinks down like a rock to my gut.
The front door is open.
Did I do that? No, no, I haven’t been here in days.
Sliding from my car, I glance around but the street is empty. According to my phone, the courier is still en route. Waiting here for the parcel shouldn’t take too long. My mind runs with a hundred weird reasons as to why the door would be open before I settle on the fact that my landlord could be here checking on things.
Or the police.
Approaching the door, I knock twice and lean in slightly. “Hello?”
Silence.
This is weird. This is really fucking weird.
As I step back from the door, I scramble for my phone. I need to call someone. The police or Asher or something.
Just as I get my phone into my hands, something large snags in my hair and pulls sharply. I let out a scream that’s short lived, as fabric slams over my mouth and smothers all sounds.
My heart pounds, my arms flail, and my hands scrabble at anything I can reach as I’m dragged backward into my apartment. My nails catch on the doorframe, my heels trip on the step, and the pressure against my face prevents me from breathing.
My mind screams in alarm, and then something solid collides with the base of my skull.
My world flashes hot and pained.
Then there’s only darkness.