"Emma, you're ridiculous."

She clenched her jaw, peering up from the surface she had been scrubbing at fiercely for the past hour. Slowly, cleaning, for her, was becoming less of a result of her phobia and more of a response to stress and frustration. A slow sigh escaped her lips and she continued, averting the intense gaze of her husband.

'Husband'. She never had quite gotten used to that word, even after a year's time. On the contrary, as the days progressed she regretted marriage more and more. Carl had been amazing at first. Taking her out to fancy restaurants, showering her in affection and adoration that, as far as Emma was concerned, couldn't be matched by anyone else. He loved her and she fell quite quickly for him, and after six months of dating, he proposed. Naturally, she said yes; who wouldn't? Financial security, trust, love, communication, respect. The foundation for a perfect marriage was there. She was under the apparently false impression that she had it all. Another six months after the proposal the ceremony was held, and it only took four months before the marriage began to crumble. Now, approaching their one year wedding anniversary, Emma was absolutely miserable. Apparently, Carl was, too.

Tension always ran high when both were in the same room together. They were lucky to exchange more than ten words a day to one another and they avoided each other like the plague. It was insane and yet neither of them were about to initiate a conversation about something like 'divorce', because no doubt it would end up in a severe argument.

Yet, somehow, they put on a show for the public. On the few occasions that they did go out together, they smiled and acted as though nothing had changed. As far as anyone was concerned, both were happy and head over heels in love. Carl never let his failing marriage affect him personally, but there was most certainly a change in Emma. Even though she was shy before, she spoke even less to her co-workers. She kept her head down a lot and the wall she built around herself was growing by the day, afraid that someone (more specifically, Will Schuester) might notice that she was breaking.

Will. She hadn't spoken to him in almost a year (the night prior to her wedding, to be exact), but she supposed that was because he was still trying to get over the heartbreak of her marriage. As far as Emma could see, he was still pretty torn up over it and had only given up on her after she said "I do". He had shown up on her door step while she was packing for her honeymoon, crying, begging for one last shot. One last chance at the romance he, according to him, craved so dearly. He urged that he loved her, took her hand, and threw away every ounce of dignity away in a final attempt to win her back. She tearfully turned away and, when she spoke her vows in front of Carl, she saw, in her peripheral vision, as all of Will's hopes were stolen from him and she watched him trudge out of the wedding hall, head bowed. Ever since then the most she saw of him was when he passed in the hallways, and he very rarely looked up at her.

It came as a shock when Carl came home, declaring that he needed to speak to her. Already stressed out, she had been in the middle of scrubbing down the house when he came home, and by no means was she about to stop. Finally, under the intensity of his glare, Emma sighed exasperatedly and pulled off her plastic gloves, clasping her hands in front of her as she straightened up.

"You said you wanted to talk?"

Carl looked unnerved, which was quite contradicting to his usual stubborn, confident demeanor. Guilt was evident in his eyes and, immediately, she softened. He placed a hand on her lower back and led her over to the couch. A frown playing along her lips, she took a seat and leaned back, looking at him curiously.

"Emma," he began, looking into her eyes, "I… I'm so sorry." Her brow furrowed in confusion, but she didn't speak, because soon enough Carl continued. "I… I've been having an a-affair." He dared to look up at her. Despite the fact that their marriage was already crumbling, despite the fact that she hardly loved him anymore, betrayal and hurt stabbed her right in the chest and she could do nothing more than stare at him, incredulously, hurt reflected in every inch of her expression. And just when she thought it could get no worse, he opened his mouth again. "Her name… Is Linda. And… Emma, she's… She's pregnant."

Emma gasped lightly, her eyes snapping closed. It was almost as though she were trying to erase his words, erase his actions. Erase him. She fought, tried to reason that she was dreaming, but when she opened her eyes, it was clear that nothing she could do would better the situation.

He breathed her name again, apologizing lightly, but she would have none of it. She couldn't. Slowly, cautiously, the fingers of her right hand rose to fumble with her wedding ring, sliding it off her finger and setting it on the coffee table. Tears were in both of their eyes and as Emma rose, quickly advancing towards the door, she found that the heartbreak was that much worse.

Carl wasn't coming after her.

So she got in her car and drove. She felt broken and, due to her lack of wedding ring and cleaning supplies, rather naked. Her mind was completely elsewhere, and she allowed her subconscious to carry her to an apartment complex across town. Emma wasn't even clear on where she was at (though deep down, she knew all too well where she was), and she parked, bursting into tears.