Title: The Pact
Blurb: Emma Woodhouse and George Knightley have known each other since childhood. When Emma was twenty-eight and George thirty-three, they made a pact that if they were both still single on Emma's thirtieth birthday they would marry each other. But Emma's on-again, off-again relationship with Paul Churchill continually complicates things…even after it ends.
Disclaimer: I don't own what you recognize. And yes, I am dramatically twisting the traditional Emma story. I hope you enjoy.
Prologue
I don't remember when or how I met George. I don't remember not knowing George. He's just always been there, the same as my parents or my sister. Sure, he lived on the other side of the ocean, and I didn't see him as much as I saw my biological family, but that doesn't matter. George and his family have always been there.
My mother grew up with George's mother. They were childhood best friends who did everything together-until Madeline Clancy moved to England and married Henry Knightley. But they stayed friends and made sure that they saw each other as much as possible. And so, my sisters and I saw George and his siblings as much as we could-usually two or three times a year.
But George and I really grew close when I was twenty-seven and he was thirty-two. I had just finished my PhD in literature and had accepted my first teaching position at the University of Michigan. That same year, George left his position at the University of Virginia for Ann Arbor, and we decided to room together as friends.
It was a good arrangement for both of us. He didn't care (too much) about my personal life, and I didn't care about his. George, for some strange reason, didn't really date. And when I dated Paul Churchill, a chemistry professor, on and off for most of my first two years in Ann Arbor, George kept his opinions on Paul to himself. I knew they didn't like each other very much, but they remained civil when I was around.
All of this remained constant until the spring of 2012. Seven things happened between January and May. Firstly, Paul's older brother, Weston Churchill, married my best friend, Hannah Taylor on New Year's. I was the maid of honor; Paul was the best man.
Three weeks later, Hattie Smith and Blake Elton went on the first of three dates. I thought this was an amazing idea; George thought it was a nightmare.
Thirdly, at the beginning of February, George left to spend a semester as the faculty advisor for a study-abroad group in London. He was still paying rent on the apartment, but I was staying there alone. When George left, Paul told me that this would be "heaven for us."
Fourthly, Valentine's Day happened. On Valentine's Day, Paul took me out for dinner, wooed me in the most romantic way possible, took me back to my apartment for more of his so-called heaven, and then left around one in the morning after finding an old shirt of George's in my bedroom and declaring our relationship to be "too constraining."
Next, Blake terminated his relationship with Hattie because she was "too juvenile" and started dating the "more mature" Gus Hawkins. And yes, Gus was a woman. Her full name was Augusta Georgia Hawkins. Apparently, her parents were big golf fans. Apparently.
On St. Patrick's Day, I spent most of the day throwing up. I never touched a sip of alcohol all day. I just had the flu. I swear.
And the seventh event was my discovery on April Fool's Day that I was pregnant. Paul immediately informed me that I should just "do the sensible thing and take care of everything quickly. Neither of us needs any complications in our life right now. Our careers are far too successful for children at the moment."
But I exerted what George called "the infamous Emma Woodhouse stupid-stubborn pride" and told Paul that I didn't need him. I would raise the baby without him. He laughed at me and told me that I was ruining my own career. "And don't think that Knightley will help you," he replied. "He might be head over heels in love with you, but even he isn't dumb enough to raise another man's baby. Just because you two have that dumb marriage pact, even that isn't enough to keep the noble Knightley around."
"Oh go blow it out your ear," was my parting comment.
And on June 21, 2012, George Knightley came back to Ann Arbor. And I had to tell him everything that had happened while he was gone.
A/N: Please read and review!