Callum's anger vanished, a gamut of emotions flickered across his face, finally settling on stunned horrified disbelief. "You're not serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a hurt whisper. His stomach turned, sickeningly.
"I am serious," Emma was determined. "I've had one marriage based on secrets, I won't have another. I learned that lesson the hard way."
"This is nothing like Matt!" Callum, said desperately. "I know you're upset…"
"Don't dare put all this down to hormones, Callum!" Emma was furious.
Callum shook his head, his expression wrenching at Emma's heart. "Just trust me, Emma!" his voice cracked, slightly. "After what you went through with Matt, I can understand that's a lot to ask, but I'm not him," his throat clicked dryly.
Emma shook her head, regretfully. "I'll always be wondering if you're telling me everything, or keeping something back. That's no basis for a marriage."
Callum bent his head, desperately trying to keep his composure. He looked up, his expression revealing his hurt. He shook his head. "I can't tell you, Emma," he whispered sombrely. "I wish I could…"
Tears spilled down her cheeks, hating having to put both of them through this. She shook her head. "Then I can't marry you," she whispered with broken finality, her heart breaking.
"The Skipper hasn't looked too happy, the last week or so," Ben commented, at afternoon refs, a week later.
Will glanced over at the table, where Callum was sitting alone, his untouched coffee before him.
"He certainly doesn't look like someone whose getting married in six weeks, does he?" was Will's opinion.
Emma walked in, heading straight for the service counter, without looking around.
"Emma's not been too happy lately, either," Will added, watching her. "Has Emma said anything to you, Sally?" Will added, turning to look at Sally.
Sally watched Emma as she was being served and shook her head. "I haven't had chance to talk to her, with the overtime and shift patterns lately," Sally admitted, sounding a little worried.
Emma turned and approached the table where Sally and the others were sitting, walking past Callum's table as she did so.
They exchanged a few words, and then Callum abruptly rose to his feet, and left the canteen.
"So, what's up with you and Stone?" Will wanted to know, as Emma sat down at the table. She puffed out her cheeks, and rubbed at her swollen stomach, wincing slightly. The baby kicked.
Emma's face was pale, as she bent over the table "Nothing we can't sort out, Will," she insisted. "You don't have to sound so smug."
"I'm not being smug, Emma," he insisted. "I'm worried about you. You're almost seven months pregnant, and the last thing you need is stress."
"I'm fine. And Callum and I are fine. We've just had a difference of opinion, that's all."
"Well if you need to talk, I'm here for you, yeah?" he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, as he rose to his feet.
Sally hung back. "Are you alright?" she asked, watching Emma closely. "You've both seemed a little off, for a few days now. Why don't you come to mine after shift, and we can talk. I'm worried about you Em."
Emma stared down at the tabletop, and nodded. "I'm fine, really Sally. But a catch up would be nice." Emma smiled, unconvincingly.
"We'll sort it out, Em," Sally promised, as she followed Will and Ben back out on patrol.
"I don't think we can," Emma muttered forlornly, as Sally disappeared through the doors.
Callum sat in his office, his hands covering his face, his mind a myriad of tumbling thoughts. Since Emma had announced she was calling off the wedding, things had slowly started to deteriorate over the past week.
The last week or so, Emma had looked exhausted; neither of them were sleeping very well, as the tension between them began to grow.
He'd tried several small gestures, to show her he still loved her despite his reluctance to talk about his family, but nothing made any difference. He could feel them drifting further and further apart.
He tried explaining, again that some things weren't easy to drop into conversation, and that it was better left alone. It certainly didn't change how he felt about her.
No matter what he said, the cracks that were starting to appear in their relationship, were getting wider and wider.
"All I'm saying, Callum, is that if you won't talk about your parents, then surely, you can answer a simple question of if you have brothers or sisters," Emma huffed, as she followed Callum into the house, who was laden down with shopping.
Emma had arranged with Sally to go to Sally's a little bit later, explaining that she wanted to try again, in talking to Callum.
"For God's sake, Emma!" Callum exploded, infuriated, as he put the bags down on the breakfast bar. "Will you just drop it? I'm sick of hearing about this! The subject of my family is off limits!"
Callum started packing the shopping away, slamming and banging cupboards, more forcefully than needed, in his anger.
He caught Emma's pout, as she retreated to the sofa, knowing that she had pushed him too far.
"Don't sulk!" he snapped, still furious with her, as he continued the unpacking, refusing to give into her.
It wasn't until he heard her quiet sob, that he had second thoughts and started to feel a little guilty. He rested his hands on the sink and leaned forward slightly, head bowed. He hated arguing with her; neither of them were prepared to back down on this, and he wished he could turn the clock back, and somehow manage to stop Frank ever bringing up the subject of his family, and avoid this unpleasantness altogether. If only it could be that easy.
"You're not the only one with secrets," Emma's tearful voice, broke into his thoughts, and he turned to face her, tensing.
"Meaning what?" he asked, glaring at her.
"Exactly what I said," said Emma, defiantly despite her tears. "So you can keep your secrets, Callum. I'm going out, don't wait up," she announced as she went out the door, giving him no time to answer.