-12-

Punk was gone on his run for half an hour before he finally worked up enough nerve to go in the house. His head was swimming with all of the awful and horrible things that Emma had told him this afternoon. He was conflicted; on one hand he still loved her and was never going to stop, on the other hand she had betrayed him and he knew the right thing to do would be to finalize the divorce with her. He didn't know what to do. It's not that he only wanted to stay with her because of the kids; he wanted to stay because he'd been in love with her for ten years and didn't want to lose that. Even after everything, he still loved her, still cared for her, still wanted the best for her.

He walked up the front steps and opened the door. He didn't see Emma in the living room when he closed the door behind him. Wandering into the kitchen he heard her talking to someone on the phone. Strange, because when he looked down, he saw her cell phone shattered into a million pieces. He sighed as he thought about her famous temper tantrums; most days she was a walking bundle of emotions, today was no different. He walked towards the kitchen and paused in the doorway, listening to her side of the conversation.

"I don't care. I don't want you to call me anymore; it was a mistake and it should have never happened."

"Tough shit, Scott. You haven't done anything for the past three years, what makes you think that I'm going to let you start now? She has no idea about any of this; and I don't think right now is the time to tell her. She knows Phil as her dad, let's just leave it at that. She's three years old, she won't understand."

"Don't you fucking dare. I swear I will have you murdered if you even think about doing that!"

Punk had heard enough. He walked into the kitchen and took the phone from Emma; surprisingly enough, she didn't protest.

"Who the fuck is this?" he growled into the phone, even though he knew it was Scott.

"Shit. Punk, I was just trying to talk to Emma."

"Leave my wife alone. I am not fucking around anymore, Colton."

"Whatever. She'll eventually come crawling back to me once you go-"

"Shut the fuck up! You were supposed to be my best friend? How could you fucking do this me?"

"Punk, you don't understand-"

"No, Scott. What I don't understand is how that even though I came to you, upset as hell when Emma said she wanted a divorce, you just sat there and agreed with me, even though you wanted her for yourself. You were probably just waiting for our divorce to be finalized so you could move it on her. You selfish prick! Stay the hell away from my wife and stay the hell away from my kids," Punk threatened his former best friend.

Scott chuckled; Punk wanted to play like this, huh? "How about you stay away from my daughter?" he said before he hung up leaving Punk to stare at the phone. He considered whipping it across the room, but Emma piped up softly.

"Please don't throw that, I won't have a phone otherwise. I already broke my cell..." she said in a quiet voice while she looked down at her hands.

Punk sighed, set the phone down gently and sat down next to her. "So now what? Do I have the whole story about what's been going on?" Emma shook her head no. "What am I missing? Oh yeah. I need to know when you had Jenna tested. Do you want to tell me now, or can I take a shower? I kind of smell..." he said as he poked her in the arm, hoping to get a smile out of her. Even after everything that had happened this weekend, the horrible words they had said to each other, the fighting, the bickering, and Punk finally learning the truth, he still just wanted to see that pretty smile.

"Go shower," she said.

"Do I have any clothes here yet?" he asked as he started toward the stairs. She nodded and followed him up to their bedroom. He grabbed a towel from the linen closet and headed into the bathroom to get washed up. They might have talked about a lot today, but there was still more to say. He wasn't done with her yet.

Emma wandered into the bedroom that up until about seven months ago, she had shared with Punk. Even though she had been crying all day and she thought that she didn't have anything left, her eyes still clouded up with tears as she thought about everything that her and Phil had been through during the past ten years. She went over to the closet and pulled out the box that she had packed all of his clothes in; she hadn't had the courage to give it to him months ago. That would make this all seem to final. It scared her now that he knew the truth, that she didn't want to let him go. She had no reason to pretend to be mad at him anymore; she had only filed for divorce and acted like a total bitch just so she would push him away so it wouldn't hurt so bad when he eventually found everything out. It was true that she did want to do more with her life than just be a mommy and a housewife; she wanted a career of her own, but she wanted her husband there with her when she made that decision.

"I am so fucked up in the head," she mumbled to herself as she opened one of the boxes and pulled out a pair of his blue jeans and dug further into the box until she found what she had been looking for; this had been the hardest article of clothing to put away, but she had too. It was an old, really old, Misfits hooded sweatshirt. He had had it for years and she used to steal it from him every chance she got. She lifted the sweatshirt to her nose; it still smelled like him. She found a small smile appear on her face when a memory flashed through her mind of her wearing this sweatshirt.

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"Punk, it's raining out. Why can't we just call a cab or stay here until it stops?" Emma whined at her boyfriend. They were at a friend's house and were set to head home, but a sudden downpour changed their minds.

"Quit whining. You're not going to melt," Punk mumbled as he was about to pull his Misfits sweatshirt on over his head when he stopped and noticed that his girl was only wearing a t-shirt and was going to freeze in the rain. He threw it at her, "Here, wear this before you get sick and start whining," he said to her as he started towards the door. He knew he was acting like an ass tonight; but that was only because he was nervous as hell. He had been dating Emma for two years and he had finally worked up enough nerve and enough cash to buy her something. He loved this girl. She loved him. They had each other, and that's all they really needed. They didn't need her mother's approval. Oh how Evelyn despised him; she let it be known every chance she got that he wasn't good enough for her Emma. Too bad for Evelyn, Emma thought Punk was perfect for her. They made quite the pair—his growing collection of tattoos, piercings and long hair complimented her long brown hair with pink streaks and lip ring. They were two of a kind, destined to be together for the long haul.

She rolled her pretty blue eyes as she pulled the sweatshirt on and started to follow him. Outside, he pulled his Chicago Cubs hat on and she pulled the hood of the sweatshirt up and they started the five block walk to their apartment together in silence in the pouring rain. He kept one hand in his pocket, fingering the velvet box in his right pocket with his fingers while he held her hand in his left. Earlier this week he had planned tonight all out, but he was impulsive and changed his mind a lot. As the couple passed by a playground, he stopped walking. "Punk, what the hell are you doing? It's pouring out!" she said to him as she watched in amazement as he got down on his knees in a puddle and pulled something out of his pocket. 'What the fuck is he doing?' she thought to herself until she realized that he had a little black box in his hand.

"Emmy Sue, I love you. A lot. I don't want to go through life without you by my side. You wanna get married?" he asked as the nervous words rushed out of his mouth.

For a few seconds, Emma stood there in the rain and stared at her boyfriend like he was crazy before she let out a squeal and thew herself into his arms, knocking him down onto the wet grass in the process. "I take that as a 'yes' then?" he asked before she covered his mouth with hers in a passionate kiss....

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"Did you find something for me to wear?" Punk said as he interrupted Emma's thoughts. She found herself blushing as she saw him with just a towel wrapped around his waist, his short hair still damp from the shower. She nodded and held out the pair of jeans, boxers and sweatshirt she had found for him. "Thanks," he mumbled as he started to get dressed. She laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling wondering, not for the first time that day, what the hell she was doing. He finished dressing and laid down next to her on the bed. "What are you doing," he whispered.

"Thinking," she whispered back.

"About what?"

"Us," she said simply as she turned her head to look at him.

"Is there still an us, Emmy?" he asked as he pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

"I don't know; I mean, there's always going to be an us, but not like it used to be. Know what I mean?" she asked with a confused and conflicted look on her face.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I know you're probably real tired of this, but I need to hear the rest or it will seriously drive me insane. So...start talking," he said as he sat up on the bed and sat cross legged as he faced her.

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The months during Emma's pregnancy were much like her first two—Punk was on the road most of the week and was only able to come home two or three days, which meant that there were a lot of opportunities for Scott to come over and 'visit'. Punk was able to convince WWE management to give him a month off a week before Emma's due date. She argued with Scott about him having to stay away while Punk was home.

"I don't understand why, Emma," he said in a frustrated voice.

She rolled her eyes, "Really? You don't understand? What is there not to understand, Scott. I'm married. To Punk. He's going to be home. We can't see each other anymore. Not that we should be seeing each other in the first place."

"It just sucks, that's all," he said softly as he crossed the room and placed his hands on her huge pregnant belly. The baby immediately started kicking, which brought a smile to Scott's face. "Do you really think she's mine?" he whispered hopefully.

"No idea. Punk came home and we made love-"

"Why is called 'making love' when you talk about Punk, but you call it 'just fucking' when it comes down to me and you?"

"We have been over this probably a million times. I'm married; what we did together, should have never happened in the first place."

"Whatever, Emma. You wanted it just as bad as I did. Just admit it."

"I am not admitting shit. In fact, I think you should leave. Punk's going to be home soon."

"So."

"Really? So? Oh my, God. Get out Scott," she practically screamed at him.

"I want a paternity test as soon as you have that baby; make sure I know when she's born," he spat at her before he took off, slamming the door behind him.

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Two weeks later, Punk dropped the two boys off at his mother in law's house in a hurry and drove as fast as he could to get Emma to the hospital. Her water had broke a few hours earlier and her contractions were getting closer together. She wasn't going to be able to last much longer without a hospital.

Three hours later and a whole lot of screaming and cursing from Emma, a perfect seven pound two ounce baby girl was born. Punk smiled widely for the nurse holding a camera as she took a picture of him holding his newest child. Very gently he laid the baby girl onto Emma's chest who started crying. "What should we name her?" she whispered as she couldn't stop gazing at this beautiful little miracle.

"Jenna," he said softly as he watched his wife bond with their new baby.

"Jenna what?"

"Hmm...Jenna Sue sounds good..."

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"You know, the day Jenna was born was one of the happiest days of my pathetic life, Emmy. It was right up there with when Jack and Josh were born. And when I married you..." Punk trailed off.

"Phil, you know when I say that I'm sorry, I really do mean it, right?" she whispered as she moved closer to him on the bed. He was still sitting cross legged across from her. He nodded.

"I know, baby. But you have to see it from my point of view. I just found out that my wife cheated on me and that my daughter isn't mine. I know you don't want to talk about Scott anymore and you probably just want me to leave, but I need to hear the rest of it. Tell me when you and Scott had the paternity test done."

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Jenna was six months old when Scott started bothering Emma about taking a paternity test. She had been putting it off, but finally agreed to bring the baby in to the clinic to get the testing done. The tricky part was how they were going to hide the results from Punk. Scott offered to pay for the test and to have the results sent to his apartment, that way Punk would have no idea what was going on. They both agreed that it would be easier on everyone if Jenna turned out to be Punk's; except that Scott was secretly wishing that the baby girl would turn out to be his. He was a little disappointed when her eyes weren't brown like his, that would have been a dead giveaway to Punk that something wasn't right. The little girl had ended up with bright blue eyes and brown hair like her mother.

The test was relatively painless and they would have the results in less than two weeks. For those two weeks, Emma was on pins and needles. Punk noticed her nervousness when he was home for a few days, but she brushed it off saying that she was just tired.

Two weeks later Scott received the test results in the mail at his apartment. Beth was there when he read them. "So, what do they say?" she asked disinterestedly. She could really care less about what Emma and Scott had done together; she was more concerned about how her friend Punk was going to react when he found out that his perfect little wife wasn't so perfect.

"Look," was all he said as he tossed the envelope with the results in them. This didn't work out to his advantage at all.

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Later that evening, after Scott was sure that Punk had headed back on the road, he stopped over at Emma's after the boys had gone to bed. He didn't bring the actual results with him, he was just going to tell her and he knew that she would just believe him.

"Tell me," she demanded as they sat down at the kitchen table.

"She's mine," he said quietly.

"Shit."

"Is it such a bad thing?" he asked.

She looked at him like he was on crack, "Of course it's a bad thing," she said before she started bawling. "I'm going upstairs, lock the door behind you," she said quietly as she picked up Jenna from her bouncing chair and brought the baby upstairs with her. She needed some time away from Scott to figure out what the hell she was going to do now that her life was completely fucked.

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"So, he never actually showed you the test results?" Punk asked in shock. How could his wife be so trusting?

She shook her head. "No, I just took it for what it was and didn't question it."

They sat in silence, side by side on the bed, for a few minutes before he spoke up. "Let's get her tested again."

"Why?"

"Because I have a funny feeling that Scotty lied to you."

"I don't understand."

Punk sighed; her she went, starting to be difficult again. "I need to know, Emma. I need to know for sure if that little girl is mine or not."

"What if she isn't?" she whispered as she finally forced herself to look at him.

"I guess it's over then."