You Were the First Mile

By Luna

Chapter 11: Where My Heart Broke a Sweat

Once Emma arrived at work, she choked. Whatever certainty she had felt in her kitchen was gone. She'd broken basically every traffic law on the drive over. She was in love and invincible; she could afford to be reckless. However, after she turned into the parking lot, she couldn't seem to get out of the car.

The interior of the car was completely silent as she turned off the ignition. Tiny snowflakes drifted down from a grey sky, and Emma watched them turn into water droplets on her windshield, her stomach churning with a growing sense of anxiety. Her palms were sweating against the steering wheel. She wiped them against her jeans, shaking her head. It had to be love; no man had ever made her palms sweat before. Emma took a deep breath. She was so nervous. She simultaneously wanted to run inside to Grant and stay in the safety of the car forever.

One urge won out. She waltzed into the daycare on a wave of sheer bravado, aglow with hope and love. Her eyes found Grant instantly, leaning against the back wall, quietly supervising the children's free time. Her pulse beat frantically; his eyes met hers from across the room, and…

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Emma instantly deflated and hung up her coat. Grant had nodded his head in acknowledgment of her presence, but that was it. He hadn't come over to say hello. He hadn't even cracked a smile for her, only that small nod.

She smoothed out her shirt, feeling extremely foolish. Before she'd left for the daycare, she'd changed into a shirt that she rarely wore. The shirt wasn't anything special, just a cream colored long sleeved shirt with a pattern of tiny blue flowers on it that she'd pulled it out of a bargain bin years earlier. It was soft with age, and the cuffs were starting to fray, but Grant had complimented it weeks earlier, saying it was his favorite, so Emma had dug it out of her dresser to wear. Grant hadn't taken any more notice of her than usual.

He was still leaning against the wall, shoulders pressed back, arms crossed lightly across his chest, the sleeves of his black sweater pushed up to the elbows. He hadn't even come over to ask her why she was at the daycare early.

Emma couldn't get the thought out of her head that he was probably thinking about Harriet and her pretty blue eyes and adorable smile.

Emma felt like a weird giant in comparison.

Grant probably liked short girls with dark hair.

Emma was sure he only saw her as a friend.

Grant probably didn't even think she was pretty.

He was made of rocks.

And he probably thought she was, too.

Emma came to the swift and painful conclusion that she had made everything up about him returning her love, running away with her feelings. He didn't care for her any more than he did for Heather or Henry, she was certain. Harriet had been right about everything.

She couldn't even manage a smile for the children. She was too busy mentally scolding herself. Grant had been in front of her the whole time, and she'd overlooked him. She'd lost her chance, and she had no one to blame but herself.

Grant was all the things that she wasn't. He was patient and understanding. She knew he didn't block out Heather's ramblings like she did. He listened to every damn word. He was smart and rational. He thought before he spoke. He was kind and generous. He brought out the best in everyone, especially her.

And she knew that she brought out good things in him too. Naturally reticent, he was prone to over-analyzing things, and Emma kept him from spending too much time in his own head. He laughed more with her than other people; Emma knew it. Harriet wasn't the girl for him, and the thought of them together made her feel like vomiting.

She realized she was neglecting the children, and she realized that she was staring intently at Grant from across the room, but she didn't care. The first times he'd caught her looking he gave her a smile, but she couldn't ever manage much more than an unsteady facial wobble. He was looking over more frequently and with more concern now, giving her a strange, worried look.

Emma sighed, biting her lip as he looked away again. Her nerves were frazzled. If this was what it felt like to actually feel something for someone, she was glad to have managed to avoid it for so much of her life. It was horrible and wonderful. She was sweating copiously.

Emma finally got a break when snack time allowed her to go to the back room to retrieve the beverages from the refrigerator. Grant stayed in the front room to round up the children. Emma basked in the cold air, holding a milk carton to the back of her neck. She knew she had to relax. She was too keyed up.

She plastered on a fake smile and walked around dispersing the drinks.

Henry tugged lightly on the hem of her shirt as she got to him. She knelt down, and he looked at her very seriously, his large brown eyes magnified by the lens of his glasses.

"Is it really true?" he asked quietly.

Emma smiled crookedly. "Is what really true, Henry?"

"That today is Grant's last day. He said he was going away for a while. Is he really?"

The smile slid off her face, and Emma had to look down. She couldn't look into Henry's imploring face. Her stomach had given a harsh twinge as soon as she'd realized what he was asking. She suddenly felt like crying.

She spoke quietly so her voice wouldn't wobble. "It's true, kiddo."

"But he'll be back soon, right?"

Emma chewed at her lip. She didn't want to lie to the child, but she didn't know what to say. She cleared her throat slightly and moved to stand. With her jerky, uncoordinated movements she accidentally knocked over his carton of orange juice. The sticky liquid immediately spread all across the table.

"Shit," Emma murmured. She flinched when she remembered that she was surrounded by impressionable children. Grant was staring at her now, but she purposely ignored him and ran to grab a roll of paper towels, trying to clean up her mess. It was difficult; her hands were suddenly shaking. Rambling off a string of curse words in her head, she dumped her sodden paper towels in the trash.

She wished she could just go home. It was a terrible day. She'd spent half the day staring at Grant and the other half trying to distract herself so she wouldn't stare. She wasn't doing the children any good. She was too distracted to care about helping them. She knew it was just another example of why Grant was such a good man. He was never too anything to help the children.

She sincerely hoped that Harriet would appreciate that fact more than she had. She hoped Harriet would appreciate everything more than she had.

That thought really made her feel like crying. A tear actually managed to sneak down her cheek before Emma abandoned the children, deciding that it was a good time to go hide in the coat room.

She leaned against the wall, trying to take deep breaths. The coat room was musty and dim, full to the bursting with coats, scarves, and tiny boots. She closed her eyes, resting against the soft down coats. She felt slightly better in the dim light and the quiet until Grant stepped in.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. He was right in front of her, his head tilted to the side and his brow furrowed. His voice was quiet and low, and he was too close to her. Emma couldn't help watching his mouth. It was right in her line of vision. Right now his mouth was serious, the corners drawn in, but she knew normally it showed humor and kindness.

God, Emma wanted to kiss him. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him until she couldn't breathe. It was an actual, physical urge, and she had to restrain herself from doing it. She dug her nails into her palm.

Part of her wondered why it was such a bad idea. Sure, maybe he did like Harriet, but if she kissed him, she wouldn't have to actually tell him anything about her feelings. He was smart enough to figure it out, and then everything would be cleared up between them. It would be awkward afterward, but she thought it seemed like an okay idea, especially when he was looking so damn good. The worried, concerned look brought out everything she liked in his face. His eyes, his mouth…

"Emma," he said, sounding very worried, and she snapped back to attention, her gaze moving up to his eyes. She realized she hadn't responded to his question. He was looking at her intently, eyes wide with concern.

"I'm fine." Her throat was constricted so it came out mostly as squeak, and she tried to say it again but couldn't. He gave her an extremely dubious look.

"You're sure?"

Emma nodded, figuring that was a better idea than trying to speak again. Grant raised an eyebrow, waiting for her response. When she said nothing, he cautiously continued.

"I can watch the kids until it's time to go if you need to take a break. You don't have to stand in the coat room. Unless you want to, that is."

Emma nodded, her eyes moving back to his mouth again. She couldn't help herself.

"I don't mind if it'll make you feel better," he said.

Emma nodded again. Grant paused and simply looked at her, and she couldn't look away. She didn't know what to do. Her thoughts were full of all the things she couldn't act upon.

"Emma," he said softly, leaning to place his palm on the wall next to her head, cutting away the rest of the daycare. He was looking at her intently, trying to discern what was wrong, obviously unconvinced by her answers, and Emma realized she was going to have to start pretending to be normal otherwise he would never leave, and she really would try to make out with him in the coat room.

She cleared her throat and ducked under his arm, moving to the other side of the coat room. She even managed a fake smile. "Really, I'm okay. I'll be out in a minute, I promise."

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her for another long minute, but he left her alone. Emma sagged back against the wall. Since she'd entered the daycare, her heart had never stopped pounding, and after those last few minutes she wouldn't have been surprised if her heartbeat was visible through her shirt.

After ten minutes of silent pep talks to herself in the coat room, she felt that she could reenter the main room. Grant's eyes instantly found hers. He looked very relieved. Emma couldn't blame him. She knew her behavior made her seem insane. He was probably glad that he had feelings for Harriet; she never hid in coat rooms.

Emma forced herself to stop thinking about Grant and Harriet. She knew she was just going to have to accept the fact that she'd missed her chance and be happy for her friends.

She'd been too much of a coward to realize her feelings, and now she was too much of a coward to admit them to him. She knew she didn't really deserve Grant. He was too nice and good. Maybe Harriet would be more worthy of him.

She was gathering the children to go get their coats, and he walked over to help. He must have felt it was odd that they hadn't talked the whole day, except for the brief exchange in the coat closet, because he awkwardly started up a conversation.

"So you're done with finals then?"

Emma nodded, all false cheer and spirit. "I finished this morning and am now History free until next semester. What about you?"

"Me too." He broke out in a real smile. "Hey, Harriet got an A on her final." He laughed. "She ran in here and gave me this huge hug. I was really happy for her." He obviously thought Emma was interested in this information, although he couldn't have been more wrong. "She left before you came in," he finished, and Emma tried to keep from bursting into tears. Grant really was lost to her. He'd just given her irrefutable proof.

She could picture how it had happened perfectly. Harriet had rushed in on a burst of cold air, with rosy cheeks and bright eyes, looking beautiful and excited beyond belief. She'd thrown herself into Grant's arms, and he'd looked surprised and very pleased. Harriet had raised her head up, and after gazing at each other for a few moments, he'd leaned down to kiss her…

Emma thought she really was going to throw up. She could almost taste the bile in the back of her throat. Without a word of explanation or response to Grant she bolted to the coat room, her new sanctuary, and began dressing the children in their coats like a woman possessed. She buttoned, she zipped, she slipped gloves on fingers and she tied shoe laces. She did not think about Grant, and she did not think about Harriet, and she did not, under any circumstances, think about them together.

Emma felt wretched. No wonder Harriet had moped and eaten so much ice cream after all her bad dates; thwarted love was horrible! Emma didn't know what to do with herself.

She stalled for as long as she could. She sent the children out to Grant as fast as she could so that he wouldn't have to come back to help her. She couldn't handle seeing him at the moment.

She finished zipping up the last child's coat, and slowly walked with her outside to where Grant was waiting. She couldn't pretend any longer that something wasn't wrong, but as long as there was still a child around, he couldn't ask her any questions. When the van finally pulled into the parking lot, Emma sighed heavily, shoving her hands into her pockets. Her buffer was about to be taken away, and Emma still had no idea how to explain her behavior to Grant.

She couldn't tell him now that she loved him; he had feelings for Harriet. She was afraid if she told him her real feelings, he would pity her, and that was the one thing she couldn't stand. It would be much better that he never knew. But how was she to explain her strange behavior? He would never let her brush the issue aside.

The exhaust from the last mother's van hung in the air, and Emma concentrated on it fiercely, unwilling to look to the side at Grant. Everything was wrong, and all Emma wanted to do was curl up in the deepest part of the coat closet for a good cry.

As soon as the last car had pulled away, Grant walked over, invading the space she'd put between them. He looked as serious as she'd ever seen him. His eyes seemed sad, and he began without preamble.

"I heard about you and Frank. Emma, I know it's not really my business, but you seem so upset." Grant shrugged. "He's just a—a jerk. I know he hurt you, and you deserve better." The corners of his mouth turned down.

Emma's mouth dropped open the minute Grant said his first sentence, and she had just enough time to register the fact that they were talking about the end of her relationship with Frank, and then Grant stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her, offering comfort.

She wasn't thinking about anything except how nice it felt. She didn't quite get it, but if he wanted to hold her like that, she wasn't going to complain. She brought her arms up, gripping the fabric of his jacket.

She felt their breathing sync, and she moved her chin from his shoulder, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She didn't want to move, but she felt compelled to tell him that he'd gotten things wrong. She didn't want Grant feeling worse about it than she did. Moreover, if he had feelings for Harriet, it wasn't fair for her to take advantage of him this way.

After one deep breath, she managed to disentangle herself from him.

"Knightley, I'm not upset about Frank," she said seriously, and she watched his eyebrows rise in surprise and hurried to continue. "I don't care about him at all actually. We ended on good terms."

Grant looked horribly confused, and he took a step back.

"At tutoring—I heard—" He trailed off. His mouth was working like he wanted to say more, but no sounds were coming out. Emma looked down at her feet and reluctantly continued. It was the very last thing that she wanted to talk about with Grant, but she felt she owed him an explanation. She didn't want him thinking she was wounded when she wasn't.

"I don't know what it seemed like, but we weren't ever dating. We're not even friends really." She sighed, not knowing what to say or how to say it. "I don't even know what that was with Frank, to tell you the truth. He gave me a lot of compliments and paid for drinks and dinners and so I went with it, which is stupid and shallow, I know." She cringed. Every sentence was making her realize how unworthy she was of Grant, but she had to say it all. She still couldn't look at him, so she continued talking to her shoes. "He doesn't mean anything to me, and I'm not upset."

She took a deep breath of the cold air and sneaked a look over at Grant, who was several feet away from her and deep in thought.

She made a lame attempt to change the subject. She didn't know why Grant was suddenly so quiet or what he was thinking about. It made her nervous.

"So finals…are finished."

"Yeah," Grant said distractedly, and then he was right in front of her. His eyes were bright, and he gave her an odd smile.

"You're not going to ask me this time if I was jealous?" He laughed, shaking his head. "No, of course not," he mumbled to himself, and Emma furrowed her brow. Was he saying he wasn't jealous because he had Harriet now? She felt a sharp pain in her chest. He opened his mouth to speak again, and this time Emma knew it was going to be about his new love. He had a tender look about his mouth that she'd never seen before.

"This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done, but I think I'm going to do it anyway. I think I have to. Emma—"

"Don't. Don't say it," Emma interrupted in a bumbling rush. She panicked, breathing raggedly. She'd thought she could do it. She thought she could be a good sport and listen to him confess his feelings for Harriet, but she couldn't. Every cell in her body screamed against it, and the pain in her chest was already making it difficult to breathe. They were at the edge of something, and as long as he didn't go any further, they could still go back.

Grant froze, and he looked stricken, the expression of expectant hopes fading from his face. Pain was obvious in his eyes. He scuffed the ground lightly with his toe, no longer looking at her. "Right…no, you're right," he said quietly, almost to himself. After a moment he turned and went inside.

Emma was left standing alone in the cold, and she put her head in her hands, her palms pressed against her eyes. Everything was suddenly so wrong. One thing was for sure; this was not how she had expected his last day to pan out. She knew she'd hurt him. His crestfallen face wouldn't leave her mind. He had tried to share something meaningful with her, and she'd shut him down mercilessly and without explanation.

After all, he had absolutely no way to know how much she felt for him when she'd never said anything to prove it. He couldn't be blamed for wanting to share his happiness with another with her.

She simply had to bottle up her feelings and listen to what he had to say. She would feel bad for herself about it later. She might die once she got home, but she was going to put herself through it all anyway. She cared for him that much. She was going to do something for someone other than herself, for once. Her only motive was to make him happy.

Emma took a deep breath of the cold evening air and opened the door to the daycare. She went inside and hung up her coat. Grant was rather noisily stacking chairs, and his back was turned to her. She saw him tense at the sound of the door, but he didn't stop. She chewed at her lip anxiously, watching him for a few moments. He obviously was no longer inclined to talk. She would have to force him.

She moved to stand in front of him, but he doggedly continued with the chairs, never once looking at her. Emma scowled and finally grabbed his arms to get him to stop. He took a step back from her, looking annoyed. He avoided her eyes.

She was feeling worse with every moment that passed. There was so much distance between them. She didn't know how to amend it.

"Listen--I'm sorry. I shouldn't have cut you off like that. This isn't the way your last day should end. I just…" she trailed off. Everything she said was inadequate. He was staring into the distance over her left shoulder, his mouth set. It was the moment to tell him how she felt. She opened her mouth, trying to find the words. What could she say? 'I love you' seemed so trite, and he wasn't even receptive. Emma let the moment pass. He'd made his choice, and it was not her.

She looked down, shaking her head. Even if she couldn't have him, she still wanted to fix their friendship. "I'm a terrible friend. I know it. Just say what you were going to say. Please." She tried to not sound as desperate as she felt.

Grant let out an exasperated breath of air, muttering the word 'friend' bitterly as he looked heavenward, still avoiding her eyes.

The reaction was slow. She saw his face go blank first, the expression sliding away. She watched the slight drop of his mouth. His eyes were fixed on something in the distance. He blinked slowly and shut his mouth, looking resolved. Emma didn't understand. She had to follow his gaze.

Her heart lurched because Grant was looking at the mistletoe hanging ten feet away. She knew he was remembering their kiss from the day before. She'd forgotten to take it down after the Christmas party.

His eyes traveled down and met hers for the first time since they'd come inside, and she didn't have time to think anything. She only knew a second before he did it that he was going to.

"What the hell," he muttered under his breath, abandoning all reason. He stepped forward and pulled her up against him, the length of her body to his, hips and chests pressed together, his mouth hard on hers. It wasn't a gentle kiss. Emma was too shocked to do much, but after a moment she closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss.

When he released her, her mouth felt numb. They were both breathing hard, and his eyes were on her mouth. She could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His mouth looked slightly swollen. She thought hers probably did, as well.

He took a small step back and cleared his throat.

"I know that wasn't—you probably—sorry," he mumbled, looking down. He was beginning to look chagrined. Emma stared, eyes wide. It was the last thing she had expected him to do, but a strange new hope was burgeoning in her chest.

It was the first time she'd ever seen him rashly act on an impulse, and it had been for her. She didn't know what to say, but she did know what she wanted. And she wasn't about to let anyone apologize for a kiss like that.

She stepped forward and reached her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth the short distance down to hers. She felt him inhale in surprise and then the warm feeling spreading through her chest because he was kissing her back.

His hands cupped her face and then tangled in her long hair, and then they were kissing and kissing, getting rid of all the hurt and misunderstanding and repressed longing. Emma couldn't believe it was really happening. She didn't know how long they stood that way. The way their mouths moved together was completely addicting. When they finally broke apart, Emma felt like cooked noodles as he kissed her forehead, her jaw.

His eyes were bright. "I think I'm going to continue with what I tried to say outside earlier. Something tells me that it might get a better reception this time around."

Emma closed her eyes and laughed in self-deprecation. She deserved a medal for her ability to deceive herself. Of course Grant hadn't been talking about Harriet, but her instead.

"Emma, I'm in love with you. I have been for years." He let out a breath of air after he said it, like he'd finally dropped a heavy weight he'd been carrying. Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. She wanted a tape recorder so that she could play it over and over, again and again. Everything felt surreal.

She gave him a huge smile. "And I—I… me too." It was too new and too scary. She couldn't articulate it yet, but as always, he understood her.

Grant shook his head slightly, and Emma loved the slow smile that broke across his face. "I didn't think I'd ever hear that from you. I had literally no hope. If you'd told me ten minutes ago…" He leaned in to kiss her again, as though proving to himself that he actually could. Emma smiled against his mouth. Without the frenzied desperation of the last one, the kiss was simply intense. Emma knew she was flushing.

After a small eternity, he pulled away, his eyes taking in her features. "You were so set on being completely independent. I was always happy that you never dated anyone for more than a week, but I thought I would never have a chance. It was hopeless. I really thought you were never going to come around, and that I was just wasting my time waiting. You never seemed to see me."

Emma knew it was true. She'd willfully ignored her feelings. She wasn't even certain of when she'd started to like him. There had always been the attraction, but she didn't know when it'd blossomed into something more. Maybe she hadn't loved him for as long, but her feelings were all the more intense for their novelty.

"I see you now," she said, and he smiled before looking at her warily.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but it was hell coming to work sometimes."

Emma closed her eyes briefly. After her experience today, she didn't doubt it. "I'm just surprised you lasted as long as you did."

He gave her a sad smile. "That's why I quit. I'd decided to stop liking you, and I had to keep away from you in order do that." Emma looked shocked, and he shrugged. "If it makes you feel better, it was useless. The feelings don't go away."

"What you're saying is that I'm like some kind of disease that you can't get away from?"

Grant huffed, shaking his head. "No. Of course not—I"

Emma smiled to show she was teasing. "So, what you're really saying is that you're not quitting the daycare." She stood on her toes and kissed him before he could answer and then broke away. "Because there's obviously no need for you to leave now." She kissed him again. "The kids don't want you to leave, and I don't want to have to break in the new guy." When she kissed him this time, she felt him smile against her mouth.

"I'll call Mrs. Goddard on Monday and fix everything." He paused to look at her for a moment. "So what was going on with you today? I really thought you were having some kind of nervous break down."

Emma couldn't help laughing at herself. "Well, I was. I've been so stupid and blind. I thought I'd ruined everything, and that I'd waited too long. That's what was wrong with me all day, not Frank. I thought I'd lost my chance with you. I finally realized what I felt, but I was too scared to tell you."

Grant laughed helplessly. She didn't think she'd ever seen him look so happy.

They both seemed to realize at the same time that they were still standing in the daycare. Emma looked around, bemused.

"We should probably get out of here," she said, stepping away from him reluctantly. He nodded, and they quickly finished with the last of the cleaning for the day. It felt odd to be doing the same routine as always after such an extraordinary day.

"Do you want to come over for dinner?" Grant asked suddenly as they slipped on their coats.

"Sure," Emma replied, without a second thought, lifting her hair to wrap her scarf around her neck. "What are you making?"

Grant ran a hand through his hair and looked down, grinning, which was as close to bashful as she'd ever seen him. "I hadn't really thought it out that far."

Emma laughed, lacing her fingers with his as they stepped outside. "Look who's Mr. Impulsive now." She smiled up at him. "I guess we'll figure it out when we get there."