Chapter 3 - Emma

The tension in the truck is thick enough to cut with a knife. I steal glances at Max's profile as he drives, hating the worry lines creasing his forehead. He thinks I'm pulling away when all I want to do is lean in closer.

If only he knew. The pregnancy test in my purse feels like it's burning a hole through the leather.

I remember how wrong I was about him at first. The cocky firefighter who seemed to be winking at every woman at the Christmas Festival. Except he didn't. He only winked at me and hasn't looked at another woman since.

"Hey." His voice breaks through my spiral. "Anything I should know about your family before we get there?"

I shift in my seat, grateful for the distraction. "Well, Aunt Linda will definitely grill you about how we met."

A smile tugs at his lips, softening his features.

"That's easy. I'll tell her how I spotted the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen at the Christmas Festival. How time stopped when our eyes met. How convenient it was that our best friends were best friends and ended up dating, giving us an excuse for all those double dates."

My heart squeezes. It's not even a lie, really. Except for the double dates part – those never happened.

"There's something else," I say, picking at a loose thread on my dress. "My Uncle Jack... he was in the military too."

Max's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Afghanistan?"

"Yeah. He'll probably ask about your service."

"It's okay." His voice is steady, but I notice the muscle jumping in his jaw. "I can handle it. For you."

The words make my eyes sting. For you. He's willing to revisit his darkest memories for me, but am I about to ruin everything by dropping this baby bomb on him?

I press my hand against my still-flat stomach, hidden by my purse. Maybe I should tell him now, before we reach my family's house. Before he has to play the perfect boyfriend while I'm keeping this massive secret.

"You don't need to be so nervous," Max says, his hand finding mine across the console. "Whatever happens in there, you've got me. Plus, your students, Autumn, a whole life they can't touch."

I squeeze his fingers, wishing I could draw strength from his confidence.

"I know. It's just... family is everything to me. You know that."

"Yeah." His thumb traces circles on my palm. "Being an orphan, I never really got the whole family thing. Foster homes aren't exactly Hallmark movies." He pauses, and I catch a flash of old pain in his eyes. "But I'll do my best to support you through this."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Family. We could be his family. Me, him, and this tiny spark of life I'm carrying. But what if that's too much pressure? What if he's not ready to go from no family to instant family?

The familiar white house appears around the bend, and my stomach does another flip—Max parks in the driveway between Aunt Linda's Mercedes and Uncle Jack's pickup truck.

"Last chance to bail," he jokes, but I can hear the undertone of concern in his voice.

I shake my head, clutching my purse – and its life-changing contents – closer.

"No backing out now."

The walk to the front door feels like a march to execution. Max's hand settles on my lower back, warm and steady, guiding me forward. The touch that usually calms me now sends sparks of anxiety through my body.

I raise my hand to knock, but the door swings open before my knuckles can touch the wood. Aunt Linda stands there in her best clothes, with perfectly coiffed hair and shrewd eyes taking us in.

Max's smile doesn't waver as he steps forward, every inch the charming hero.

"Mrs. Rose? I'm Max Thompson. Thank you for having us."

Aunt Linda's eyes sweep over Max like she's appraising a piece of furniture. Her gaze lingers on his suit, military posture, and how his hand still rests protectively on my back.

"Well," she says, her red lips curving into what might be approval. "You must be the firefighter Emma's been hiding from us."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I haven't been hiding him, Aunt Linda."

"Come in, come in." She steps aside, waving us into the house I practically grew up in.

The familiar scent of her famous pot roast hits me, and my stomach lurches. Not now.

Max's hand tightens slightly on my back as we enter, steadying me. He notices everything. Of course, he does – it keeps him alive in burning buildings.

"Jack!" Aunt Linda calls up the stairs. "Emma's here with her young man!"

I hear heavy footsteps above, and my heart rate kicks up another notch. Uncle Jack appears at the top of the stairs, his military medals displayed prominently on his jacket. Because, of course, he'd wear them today.

"So," Uncle Jack's voice booms as he descends the stairs, "this is the man who's stolen our Emma's heart."

Max's hand drops from my back as he steps forward, extending his right hand.

"Max Thompson, sir. It's an honor to meet you."

"Afghanistan?" Uncle Jack asks, eyeing Max's posture.

"Yes, sir. Three tours. 75th Ranger Regiment."

Uncle Jack's eyebrows shoot up.

"Rangers lead the way. I was 82nd Airborne myself."

"The living room is this way," Aunt Linda interrupts, ushering us forward. "I want to hear all about how you two met."

I sink into the familiar floral couch, Max settling beside me. His warm and solid thigh presses against mine.

"Well," Max starts, his voice smooth as honey, “It was at the Christmas Festival. I was helping set up the fire department's booth when I saw Emma laughing with her friend Autumn. I couldn't take my eyes off her."

Aunt Linda leans forward in her armchair. "And?"

"And I made a complete fool of myself trying to get her attention," Max chuckles. "Knocked over an entire display of fire safety pamphlets."

I blink at him. That part never happened.

"Love at first sight, then?" Uncle Jack asks, studying Max with military precision.

"For me, absolutely." Max's hand finds mine. "Emma took some convincing."

"Because he was such a flirt," I add, playing along.

The irony of how wrong I'd been about that makes my chest tight.

"Only with you, sweetheart." Max winks at me, and for a moment, I forget we're pretending.

"And now you're a firefighter?" Aunt Linda asks. "That must be dangerous."

"No more dangerous than teaching first graders," Max jokes, but Uncle Jack isn't smiling.

"Different kind of dangerous," he says. "Must be hard, going from one battlefield to another."

The room goes quiet. I feel Max tense beside me.

"The nightmares are different," he admits after a moment. "But saving lives helps. Gives purpose to everything we saw over there."

Uncle Jack nods slowly. "And Emma? She understands about the job?"

"She's my anchor," Max says, and the sincerity in his voice makes my eyes burn. "After a bad call, just hearing her voice..."

"And your family?" Aunt Linda interjects. "What do they think of Emma?"

My stomach drops. Here it comes.

"I grew up in the system," Max says, "But Emma's shown me what family really means."

"Oh, you poor dear." Aunt Linda's expression softens. "No family at all?"

"The fire department is my family. And now Emma."

I must bite my lip to avoid blurting out that he's about to have more family than he bargained for.

"Well," Uncle Jack stands, "let's move this to the dining room. Linda's pot roast is getting cold."

The mere mention of food has my stomach rolling again. Max notices – of course he does – and squeezes my hand.

"Actually," I manage, "could I use the bathroom first?"

"Of course, dear," Aunt Linda waves toward the stairs. "You know where it is."

I practically bolt from the room, leaving Max to handle their curious stares. As I close the bathroom door, I hear Aunt Linda ask, "So, Max, what are your intentions with our Emma?"

Great. Just great.