Chapter 7 - Emma

Uncle Jack appears in the doorway, sunlight glinting off his medals. Max's arm tightens around me protectively, and I feel him straighten up – a soldier's reflex.

"Linda's made her famous apple pie," Uncle Jack says, but something in his eyes makes my stomach flip. And it's not morning sickness this time.

"Uncle Jack—" I start, but he cuts me off.

"You know," he says, his voice softer than usual, "I met your aunt at a USO dance. Knew right away she was the one. Sometimes, when you know, you know."

I feel Max tense beside me. My fingers clutch at his suit jacket, wondering if Uncle Jack somehow figured it out. He always could read me better than anyone else in the family.

"And sometimes," he continues, "family lunches aren't as important as taking care of what matters most."

My heart skips. He knows. He has to know.

"Sir—" Max starts.

"Take her home, son." Uncle Jack gestures toward the driveway where Max's truck sits. "I'll handle Linda."

"But the dessert—" I protest weakly, more out of habit than anything else.

"Will keep for another Sunday." His eyes meet mine, full of understanding. "When you're feeling better."

The way he emphasizes 'better' makes my breath catch. Tears threaten again – damn these hormones – but these are different. These are for the uncle who's always protected me, who's giving us an escape route now.

"Thank you," Max says beside me.

Uncle Jack turns to leave but stops at the door. "Thompson?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Take care of her."

I watch Max's throat work as he swallows. "Always, sir."

We watch Uncle Jack disappear inside, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Max's hand finds mine, tugging me toward his truck before Aunt Linda can chase us down.

I glance back at the house as we reach the driveway.

"Do you think he knows?"

"Maybe. Your uncle didn't make it through three tours without developing some serious instincts," Max says, opening my door.

My hand drifts to my stomach as I climb in. The morning feels like it's lasted a week, and it's barely 1 pm. The pregnancy test sits in my purse like a ticking bomb, but somehow it feels less scary now.

Max slides into the driver's seat, loosening his tie. "Sara's?"

I shake my head. "Can we just... go to your place?"

He starts the engine, throwing one last look at the house.

"You sure? Your aunt's probably now watching from the window, planning our wedding."

"Let her." The words slip out before I can stop them.

When he pulls back, there's something different in his eyes. Something that makes my heart race.

"My place it is," he says softly. "We've got some planning to do anyway."

"Have you told anyone else?" Max asks as we pull onto the highway.

I fidget with my seatbelt. "Just Autumn. Are you mad I told her first?"

He glances at me, surprise written across his face.

"Mad? Nah, that's like, best friend code or something." A pause. "She hasn't told Ashton, has she?"

"Not sure, why?"

"Because that man can't keep a secret to save his life. He'd have the whole station knowing before I got back for my next shift." He lets out a breath, leaning his head back against the seat. "I still can't wrap my head around it. Me, a dad."

I stare out the window, watching pine trees blur past. "I can't believe you're so okay with all of this."

"You should've expected better from me," he says softly.

"Maybe." I turn back to him. "But I've heard so many stories. Men who swear they're all in, then get cold feet when it gets real. I thought..."

"That I'd run for the hills?" His hand finds mine across the console. "Emma, this is it for me. This is the next chapter. Being with you, being a father, watching our kid grow up – that's everything I’ve always wanted."

My throat tightens. Damn, hormones are making me cry again.

"Besides," he adds, squeezing my fingers, "soldiers don't run. We march forward."

"I can't believe we got here in just a month," I say, watching his profile as he drives.

"Best month of my life." He glances at me quickly. "Knew you were special the second I saw you."

Heat creeps up my neck. "I felt it too, but..." I bite my lip, embarrassed. "I thought you'd be gone after that first night. You know, hit it and quit it."

"What?"

"I mean, I was shocked when you stayed the whole night. Even more shocked when you called after your shift."

His brow furrows. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" I gesture vaguely at him. "Hot firefighter who probably has women throwing themselves at him daily. Why would you stick around for the chubby blonde teacher?"

His knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. "Emma—"

"I'm just saying—"

"No," he cuts me off, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "You're perfect. Every curve, every inch. And our chemistry?" He shakes his head. "I couldn't walk away from that if I tried."

I stare at my hands in my lap. "Even when I'm as big as a house?"

"Especially then." His voice drops lower. "Because you'll be carrying our baby, and that's the sexiest thing I can imagine."

The way he says 'our baby' makes my heart skip.

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Every word."

My eyes can't help but trace Max's profile as he drives – the sharp line of his jaw catching the sunlight, the dark stubble I love running my fingers across, the way his muscles flex as he turns onto his street.

He's still wearing that suit, the one that made my aunt's eyes widen with approval, though the tie hangs loose now.

The truck hasn't even stopped in his driveway when that distinctive ringtone cuts through the quiet. After one month of dating a firefighter, I already know what that sound means. It's the same tone that's interrupted our dates, our movie nights, even that one time we were... well.

"I can stay," he says immediately, reaching for my hand. His green eyes are torn, caught between duty and desire. "They can handle it without me."

I run my fingers over his calloused palm, mapping the lines that tell stories of fires fought and lives saved. Each callus, each tiny scar, is part of who he is. "Go. I'll be fine here, waiting for you."

"Emma—"

"I'm not asking you to change your whole life. Not yet. Though someday, maybe we'll need to talk about those safer positions."

His smile lights up his whole face as he hands me his house keys. The keychain is a tiny silver axe – a gift from his crew after his first save.

"You're incredible, you know that? I'll hurry back. We'll order that pizza you love – extra cheese, extra everything. Celebrate properly."

I lean across the console, pressing my lips to his. He tastes like coffee, promises, and something uniquely Max that makes my head spin. Or maybe that's the pregnancy hormones.

The gravel crunches under my feet as I make my way to his front door. The house isn't huge – a firefighter's salary only goes so far – but it's home. More my home than my own apartment these days, if I'm honest.

I turn back, watching his truck disappear down the road. My firefighter. The father of my baby. The thought still feels surreal, like I might wake up any moment.

Will it be a girl with his green eyes? A boy with his brave heart? Will our daughter be as fearless as her daddy, running into danger to save others? Would our son have my love for teaching, for helping others learn and grow?

I press a hand to my stomach, smiling.

Seven years of teaching first graders suddenly feels like practice for this moment—for our moment. All those times dealing with scraped knees and hurt feelings, all the patience learned from explaining the same math problem fifteen different ways—it wasn't just a teaching experience. It was parenting boot camp.

The key slides into the lock, and Max's house welcomes me with familiar scents – his cologne, coffee, and that weird air freshener that Danny, one of his mates, bought him that's supposed to smell like "mountain rain" but really just smells like pine trees.

I kick off my heels and settle onto his couch, our couch really, since I'm here more often than not. My hand hasn't left my stomach. Somewhere in the city, Max is rushing toward danger, and being the hero, he can't help but be. But he'll come back. To me. To us.

And maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where we were always meant to end up.