Emma laid on her couch; the TV was playing, but she wasn't paying attention. She kept an eye on her phone. She had called him numerous times, left numerous voicemails and text messages. He hadn't returned one, so at this point she was betting that he was either deleting them or had blocked her number.
Her phone had rang very early Saturday morning. She had jerked awake, but by the time she got to the phone, it had gone to voicemail. Her heart had regained a small bit of hope, but it was soon dashed seeing that no one left a message, and the caller ID showed it was from a restricted number. It was just a wrong number.
It was now Sunday morning, and she was still wearing the same thing she had on when he left. The only difference was the empty wine bottles and tissues laying all over the place. She felt sluggish and...numb.
She couldn't get the look of absolute betrayal on his face out of her brain. She knew she should have told him, but she just wanted him to tell her when he felt like he could. She hadn't wanted to push him away, but she ended up doing that anyways.
A knock on her door startled her and she sprung to her feet. Maybe he...that thought immediately vanished at seeing Mary Margaret on the other side of the door.
Her sister-in-law immediately saw the look, and knew that the text Emma sent that she didn't feel well enough to go to Sunday dinner was a lie. Well, a lie in that she wasn't sick. The brunette quickly put the food she brought over on the kitchen counter and turned back to the blonde. "What happened?"
The tears started in again, and Mary Margaret just pulled Emma into a hug and led her to the couch, rubbing soothing circles into her back.
The whole argument just poured out of Emma as her friend hugged her, her tears soaking the other's shirt. When the story was done, she pulled away and looked at the woman in front of her. "I've messed everything up. I've lost him."
"No. I refuse to believe it."
"He won't answer me, or talk to me. I've tried calling him and texting him."
"I can see why he is angry, but once he calms down, he'll see that you weren't trying to hurt him."
"You didn't see the look on his face." Emma closed her eyes and she could see him standing there again. "I hurt him so bad. I should have trusted him when I met him, believed him. But I'm too screwed up to do that. I just had to go look it up on my own and then hide it from him."
Mary Margaret squeezed Emma's hands. "You have your own past, your own reasons for not trusting people. He knows about that, right?"
"Some of it. Not all of it." She sighed, "Okay, barely any of it." Emma could see her sister-in-law not like that answer. "We were really just starting to talk about the past. I'm not sure how much he gleaned about my past more than me being adopted."
"Emma, it will work out. Just give him some time."
"It's been two days. The only way this is going to work out...is me alone. As per usual." Mary Margaret pulled her into another hug.
===∞∞∞∞∞===
Emma went into work Monday morning to find that he wasn't there. She wasn't shocked. Part of her hoped he had more car tests or crew meetings or something else that was preventing him from coming in, but she knew the answer. He was avoiding her.
Tink tried to get her to talk, but Emma kept her door closed all day, effectively keeping her friend out. She spent time training the new counselor, Ingrid, for the position they finally got filled. She tried not to think that the only reason the shelter could afford it was because of the money Killian had donated. But training the counselor meant that she still had to finish her work for the day as well. Part of her was glad that it allowed her to work well into the night, only to then drag herself home long enough to crawl into bed and sleep...try to sleep, that is.
She contemplated changing the linens on her bed, she really should, but she couldn't bear to part with the smell of him on her sheets, on the pillows. She pulled one of the pillows to her, hugging it, pressing her face into the smell, finally falling into a fitful sleep.
Killian strode through the workshop, only this time, he didn't wave or say hello to anyone as he made his way back to the office. His beard was unkempt, his hair in disarray, his sunglasses hiding the dark circles under his eyes and keeping the light out, to try to stem the pain of the hangover. He didn't bother knocking and came into the office while Robin was on the phone and plopped into a chair, drinking from a Starbucks cup. He couldn't bear to use the one she had got him for Christmas.
He leaned back against the chair, his head pointed at the ceiling his eyes closed. The weekend had been miserable. As soon as he left her apartment, he drove home and opened a bottle of rum and had stayed at the bottom of one—actually, several—most of the weekend. He had only been home maybe twenty minutes when a call from her had come in, but he was still too hurt and already halfway through the first bottle when he threw his phone. It had hit the wall, shattered, and was still sitting where it landed.
Unable to sleep, and much too drunk for his own good, he had attempted to call her from his house phone very, very late Friday...or was that really Saturday? But when his call went to her voicemail and he heard her chipper message, her voice...the pain had closed up his throat and he hung up.
His heart felt absolutely crushed, his hopes battered. How had he been so wrong about her? He had saw a future with her and she was being untruthful with him. Was it all just a ruse, a plan? Worming her way in for his money? Had anything she told him been real? He should have known better. No one would ever want him for him...at least, not ever again.
He wanted to shake those thoughts away. He didn't want to believe them; his heart didn't want to. But his past made it hard to believe. After his heartbreak from Milah, there had been plenty of women interested in him. But he found they were really just after him for his money, or for them to become famous, to use his celebrity status for their own benefit. None of them really cared about him. That's when he decided the love'em and leave'em status was the best fit for him. He had hoped that all changed with Emma. He swallowed and tried to get the hurt to go away, but it wouldn't.
Robin ended the phone call and stared at his friend. While he was on the phone, he saw the disarray his friend was in and could tell there was something very wrong. "What happened, mate?" Killian didn't answer. "Is it Emma?" The ticking of the other's jaw told him the answer. "Did she not take the news of what you were going to tell her well?"
Killian chuckled. "Oh, she took it just fine. Wasn't shocked in the slightest."
The hurt in his driver's voice was palatable, but it didn't make sense. "What?"
Killian sat up in his chair and ran his hand through his hair. "She already knew." From Robin's shocked expression, he went on. "Yep. She had found out about my tragic childhood, about Milah's death, and the anonymous donation I made to the shelter. She knew all of that, and thought it was best if I didn't know she already knew."
Robin sat there dumbfounded. It didn't make sense with what he had gathered when he met Emma, not to mention what the man before him had told him prior. None of it added up. "Did she say why?"
"What?"
"Did she say why she didn't tell you? It just...she doesn't seem...it doesn't sound like the Emma I met on Friday."
Killian laughed. "Then she conned all of us. She is good." He shook his head, "She's smart. Unlike the others."
Robin had a hard time believing it. He could understand why his friend felt this way, but there just HAD to be more to it. "Killian, what did she say?"
"It doesn't matter; she never had the intention of ever telling me the truth."
"Okay, mate, calm down. Let's think about this rationally." Killian got out of his chair in a huff and Robin followed him, grabbing his arm. "Killian." He could smell the rum still on him. "Dear God, do not tell me you drove over her drunk."
Killian pulled away from him. "Of course not. I'm not an imbecile. I just haven't showered...or changed clothes."
"And you're hungover."
"Can we just get this meeting over with, so I can go back home?"
"So you can open another bottle of rum?"
"Why the hell not?" With that he walked out of the office with his crew chief right behind him. It's not like he had anything else to look forward to. His family was a bloody continent away, and racing didn't start up for another month. He had thought he had something else...but not anymore.
===∞∞∞∞∞===
The week went by with no return of her calls or her texts. When Friday morning got there, she decided she had to stop. By now, he had to have blocked her anyways, so it didn't do any good. She was exhausted, having barely slept all week. She stayed late every night, stopped eating lunch, but when noon got there, her closed door opened and Tink walked in. She stormed over and slammed a takeout box in front of her. Emma could smell the grilled cheese and onion rings and it brought tears to her eyes, remembering their take out left on her coffee table after he had left.
Tink sat down and pulled her chair close to the desk. "Emma, talk to me. What happened?"
"I ruined it." She looked up at her friend with tears streaming already down her face. She couldn't even open the box to look inside.
"What did you do?"
Emma looked down. "Remember when he first got here and was being all nice." She saw her friend nod. "I was mean, and I told him I wasn't interested and that he was only here because he had to be…Anyways he told me I was wrong and I didn't know him." She swallowed. "Well, being me, I didn't just ask him or try to get to know him. I did what I do, and I researched him. Found out about his past, his past relationships, figured everything out." She paused, "And I never told him."
"Oh, Emma."
"I wanted him to be ready to tell me, when he felt it was right. I didn't want to push it. I know how I would feel if someone knew about my past without me being ready to tell them. I didn't want it to end before it began. I was hoping that he would then tell me, and I wouldn't need to worry…" She felt guilty, she knew that wasn't a good answer. "But now I've lost him. He won't talk to me. He won't answer calls or texts, it's been a week."
Tink got out of her seat and came over to her friend and hugged her. "I'm sorry." She looked at her friend and could see the the circles under her eyes, her frame looking a little thin. "You haven't been eating or sleeping well, have you?" Emma looked down. "Well, that answers that. After work, we are heading out to dinner, and then we will go out to the bar and try to have some fun."
"Tink, I don't feel up to it."
"Emma, you need to have some fun. You need to relax. I'm not taking no for an answer." She looked down at the phone that Emma kept looking at. "You can take the phone with you, just in case."
They both smiled at each other, and Emma relented and agreed to go.
===∞∞∞∞∞===
Killian sat in front of his computer, waiting for his brother to answer his Skype. A moment later, Liam, Elsa, and the boys' smiling faces were all looking back at him and all saying hello at once. The boys were laughing and waving. But with one look at his face, Elsa gave a concerned looked to her husband and had the boys quickly follow her to get ready for bed.
"Okay, little brother, what is wrong?"
"Younger brother."
"Killian…"
He knew that tone of his brother's voice; it was a warning and he wasn't going to let this go. "I don't want to talk about it, Liam. Just tell me how the boys are. How Elsa and you are. Just, take my mind off of...everything."
His brother took a hesitant look at him, and then sighed. He told Killian about Thomas's new tooth, and the snowman family they built all together in the front lawn. Relayed how much the boys were growing and needing to get them new shoes and pants almost every few months. He let the stories go on for a little while, seeing a soft smile finally start to show up on his younger brother's face. But the stories ran out, and Liam knew he needed to talk, whether he wanted to or not.
"Now, your turn."
"I've had a couple crew meetings and car tests. My service hours are over." He stopped before he said that he had his heart crushed, though he wasn't hiding it too well.
"Well, since you didn't mention Emma in that, I have an inclination as to what the problem is." Killian looked to the side, not saying anything. The ticking in his jaw was a dead giveaway. "What did you do?"
That got him angry, "Me? Oh no, this wasn't me."
"So are you going to tell me, or do I have to drag it out of you bit by bit?"
Killian ran his hands through his hair and then with a huff started to explain the story of what had happened. "And I couldn't listen anymore to the excuses, and I left."
Liam swallowed, he could see the hurt in his brothers eyes, could see the betrayal. But he refused to believe the same Emma he had met at Christmas would do what his brother was thinking. There just had to be an explanation, but Killian was just too angry...really, just too hurt to see it. He knew all about his brother's past, part of which he shared, the other part he had tried to be there for him. Killian wore his heart on his sleeve, and when he felt, he felt deeply. Unfortunately, it cut both ways. "I don't think the reason Emma kept that knowledge from you is for the reason you think. I just don't see her doing that."
"She played us all really well."
"Killian. No, I don't believe for a second she was playing with you, with any of us." Liam still remembered the conversation he had with Emma, just the two of them in the kitchen back at Christmas. Her eyes, her expression was just too honest. "What reason did she give."
"She said she wanted me to tell her my past when I was ready." He shook his head no, "But really she was never going to tell me. She found out everything and wasn't ever going to admit she already knew."
"If she had come to you when you first met, or just after you started dating, and she told you. What would you have done?"
Killian ran a hand over his forehead, "I don't know. I wasn't ever given the option." He saw his brother's hard look. "I'd be angry she looked, angry that she felt that she had to go find it out without just asking. But...If she had told me when we first started dating...I don't think it would...hurt like this." His fingered rubbed his temples. "I mean, why did she have to hide it from me? Why couldn't she tell me? If she really cared about me, why keep that a secret?"
"Maybe she was worried you would react exactly how you are now."
"But we would have been building a life based on lies."
"Omission."
"Bloody hell, Liam, don't bring in your love for legal dramas into this. And why the hell are you siding with her?"
"I'm not on anyone's side but yours brother."
"Doesn't sound like it."
"Being on the side of your best interest is being on your side, brother. But I do have a question for you."
"What now?"
"Why are you so angry at Emma for keeping this secret from you, when you forgave Milah for keeping from you that she was married for months?"
"This is different," he snapped.
"How exactly?"
"Because I wasn't in love yet with Milah when she told me!" he yelled back and then immediately stopped talking and looked away from the screen.
Liam gave him a soft smile, but he wasn't shocked; he wasn't surprised at the admission at all. It was one more time that Killian had let himself open up to love and then lost it. Their father, their mother, Milah. Luckily, he hadn't lost them or he wasn't sure what would have happened to his brother. "Killian…you need to work this out."
"Fine, then what the hell am I supposed to do?"
"This might seem like a far-fetched idea, but maybe...talk to her?" Killian groaned at the thought as his brother continued. "That brings up another topic. Don't get me wrong, we like Skyping with you, but you usually just call. Something about the 'bloody cell phone gets a great rate for England and sounds better than bloody Skype'." The last part was said in a mocking quote of his little brother.
"I busted my phone." A raised eyebrow was his only response. "I was angry, and drunk…"
"Ahhh, that explains that. So how about this? You give the lass a call on your home phone, setup a time to calmly talk about this, and perhaps tomorrow you head out and get a new phone." He could see his brother ready to object. But before he could chime in, his wife did it for him.
"Oh, no you don't, Killian! You are going to go and listen to her. You are going to talk and figure this out, otherwise you will regret it!"
He felt like ducking away from the screen when Elsa came into view and by the tone of her voice. "Bloody...were you listening this whole time?"
"I came back in when my husband stopped talking about the family. I tried not to listen, but...I can't help it. Killian...she made you so happy."
He looked down, knowing how true that statement was, but it felt lost now, unreal. Was it? Was it all an act? Did she just see an opportunity and that is all? Or was he wrong, did she really care and had thought she was trying not to hurt him. "I doubt she will be willing to talk to me anyway."
"You don't know that. You have to at least try." Elsa gave him a sad smile, "She could be hurting just as bad as you are right now."
That cracked his heart even more, the thought of her in pain. Part of him, the part still hurt from the past couldn't believe she cared at all. But the other part of him, the part that had come back to life with her couldn't bare that she could possibly be hurting. He swallowed, hardening his conviction. "Okay, I'll call her."
They both smiled at him. "Good, give us a call...on your new cell phone...tomorrow. Let us know how it goes." His brother commanded, and his sister-in-law smiled at him with a nod.
"I will. Good night you two. Love you both." They both signed off with their love and he sighed as the screen went blank. He looked at the clock; she should be on the way home from work soon. He would give her a little time to get home, and then he would call. Hopefully, she would still be willing to talk.
===∞∞∞∞∞===
Emma sat in the pub. The live music was peppy, her greasy dinner was basically finished, and she was already three drinks in, forming a good buzz in her brain. Tink was right, she needed this. Her friend was already out on the small dance floor and waved her over. She took one more look at her phone, and sighed, realizing it wasn't going to ring anytime soon...or ever. She swallowed the lump in her throat, straightened her shoulders, threw her phone into her purse, and headed out to dance with her friend.
A few moments later his call came in, but she was already dancing to the loud music, and no one was around to hear the ring.
