Chapter 5 - Emma

I study Max's face, searching for any sign that he's about to bolt. His jaw is set, shoulders tense – the same way he looks before running into a fire.

"Are you sure?" I whisper, gripping his hand tighter. "Because if you're not..."

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

But I feel the slight tremor in his fingers, see the way his other hand keeps fidgeting with his tie. He's trying so hard to be strong, but I know him better than that.

"Max." I step closer, laying my free hand on his chest. His heart races under my palm. "I need you to know something. You're not going to be like your parents."

He runs a hand through his hair, messing up its perfect style. A harsh breath escapes him.

"I would never— They left me at the hospital, Emma. Just... left. I couldn't—" He stops and swallows hard. "I just never thought I'd be a father this soon."

I force my lips into what I hope is a reassuring smile.

"You're thirty-five. Some might say it's perfect timing." The words taste bitter in my mouth. "Though I wish we'd talked about this before it just... happened."

"Emma?" Aunt Linda's voice floats up again. "The roast is getting cold!"

Max's eyes meet mine, and I see everything he's trying to hide – the fear, the doubt, the overwhelming uncertainty. But there's something else too, something that makes my heart skip.

Hope.

"We should go down," he says, straightening his tie again. "Before they send a search party.”

We make our way down the stairs, Max's hand steady at my lower back. The pregnancy test is safely tucked back in my purse, but its presence feels like a flashing neon sign above our heads.

"There you are!" Aunt Linda stands at the bottom of the stairs, eyeing us suspiciously. "Everything alright?"

"Just feeling a bit queasy," I say, which isn't exactly a lie. "Must be nerves."

Uncle Jack appears from the dining room, his military medals catching the light.

"Well, come on then. Linda's pot roast will settle your stomach."

I catch Max's slight wince at the mention of food. He knows as well as I do that the smell alone might send me running back upstairs.

The dining room looks exactly as it has for every Sunday lunch of my life—the good plates gleaming on the white tablecloth, crystal glasses catching the sunlight. But everything feels different now as if the world has changed in the past hour.

"So," Aunt Linda begins as soon as we're seated, "where were we? Ah yes, Max was telling us about his intentions."

I nearly choke on my water. Max's hand finds my knee under the table, squeezing gently.

"Right," he says, his voice steadier than I expected. "As I was saying, I care deeply for Emma."

Uncle Jack passes the pot roast, and the smell hits me like a wave. I struggle to keep my expression neutral.

"And what about the future?" Aunt Linda persists. "Surely you've discussed it?"

Max and I exchange a quick glance. Oh, if she only knew what we'd just discussed upstairs.

"Actually," Max says, and my heart stops. He wouldn't. Would he? "We're taking things one day at a time."

"At your age?" Aunt Linda scoffs. "Emma's not getting any younger, you know. And those teacher's benefits are excellent for starting a family."

I set my fork down with a clatter. "Aunt Linda—"

"I'm just saying, dear. You're thirty, and—"

"Linda," Uncle Jack interrupts, "let them eat. The boy's probably starving after that long drive."

But Aunt Linda isn't finished.

"I just want to make sure he's serious about our Emma. My sister – God rest her soul – would want to know her daughter's being taken care of."

The mention of my mother makes my throat tight. What would she think about all this?

"Mrs. Rose," Max's voice cuts through my thoughts, "I promise you, Emma's happiness is my top priority."

"And children?" she presses. "Do you want children, Max?"

I stare at my plate, willing the nausea to subside. Max's hand tightens on my knee.

"Yes," he says simply. "When the time is right."

Uncle Jack leans forward. "And your dangerous job? How does that factor into family planning?"

"I've been thinking about taking a more administrative route," Max says, surprising me. This is the first I've heard about it, and I’m not even sure if it’s the truth or a lie: "Less time in burning buildings, you know?"

"Since when?" I turn to him, forgetting our audience.

He meets my eyes. "Since about twenty minutes ago."

The room goes quiet. I can feel Aunt Linda and Uncle Jack watching us, probably noting how Max hasn't looked away from me, how his hand hasn't left my knee.

"Well," Aunt Linda says after a moment, "at least you're thinking ahead. Now, Emma, dear, you've barely touched your food."

"I'm not very hungry," I manage, pushing my plate away slightly.

"Are you on a diet? You're a bit too curvy."

I blink back tears, my aunt's words hitting harder than usual. My hands drift unconsciously to my stomach. In a few months, I'll be more than just curvy. I'll be huge.

"Actually," Max's voice cuts through my spiral, sharp and firm, "I think Emma's curves are perfect."

I glance up at him, surprised by the edge in his tone.

"Oh, I didn't mean—" Aunt Linda starts, but Max isn't finished.

"Emma is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he continues, turning to face me fully. "And she'll be beautiful at any size."

The intensity in his green eyes makes my breath catch. It's like he knows exactly what I'm thinking and worried about.

But doubt creeps in anyway. Sure, he says that now, but what about when I'm waddling around with swollen ankles? When none of my clothes fit? When I look nothing like the women who stop by the fire station to flirt with him?

"Emma?" Uncle Jack's voice breaks through my thoughts. "You've gone pale."

"I need some air," I mumble, pushing back from the table.

The chair scrapes loudly against the floor as I stand.

"But we haven't even had dessert!" Aunt Linda protests.

I barely hear her. I'm already heading for the back door, desperate to escape before I completely fall apart. Behind me, I hear Max making some excuse about checking on me, but all I can think about is how everything is changing – including my body – and how terrified I am that he'll realize he's made a mistake.