I've decided that I'll update on Wednesday and Sunday from now on, but you get this chapter early this time since I won't be able to upload tomorrow. This one takes us back to the past. Enjoy.

Chapter 6: Flashback

JTF-12 took a lot out of Emily. When she left to join the task force, she was still a young, somewhat naïve agent who hadn't yet been exposed to the life of a deep cover agent. She had assignments where she had to play a part to make a bust when she was called upon, but that never went beyond a day or two, maybe three. Mostly, she worked from an office and did translations or worked where she was needed.

The taskforce was a new world altogether, and it changed her. She wasn't the same Emily that left on that plane. How could she be? The things she saw, the things she did… It got to her, it affected her, and she couldn't say that it was for the better, and whether it was for the worse was yet to be determined. There was something to be said about undercover work that was good for soul searching, though maybe not in the traditional sense. She went in thinking she was one thing, completely lost herself in the role she was given, and came out having to face some truths about her as a person and her capabilities that went against all she once believed.

It was eye opening. It was terrifying. And she didn't think she could ever wash the dirty feelings away. Honestly, she came back lost, confused, and disconnected from her old life. Immersing herself back into it proved difficult. It had been around two and a half years since she had been back in Virginia, a little over a year since she had any contact with her friends or mother that went beyond a simple email between cases.

After everything that happened with the baby, she thought the distance would be good for her, a little escape, but she missed them. Hell, she even missed her mother and that, in itself, spoke volumes. Her last assignment with the task force did a number on her, and, now that she was heading home, she couldn't wait to catch up with everyone.

She didn't, however, realize how different things would be. She was off living a life that wasn't her own and, meanwhile, her real life didn't stop to wait for her. That was going to become blatantly obvious to her in no time at all.

The first thing she did after doing the mandatory debriefing at headquarters was head to her dust covered condo. The electricity was still off, there was no heat or airconditiong, and the fridge was empty, but it was home, and she was happy to be there. She had her accountant autopay her bills and all delivery services put on hold, and still, there was a massive collection of mail when she got there. Not wanting to deal with that right away, Emily detoured to her bedroom, rummaged through her closet, and picked out something to change into after she showered the travel smell off her.

It felt good to be home, but it still didn't feel real or right. She didn't know whether to throw herself back into her old life and old routine right away or try to take things slow and get used to being her again. It sounded stupid, she knew, but those were her options. Problem was that she didn't know how to be that Emily and she didn't feel at all like that Emily even if she did. That made her crazy because, if she wasn't the only version of her she ever knew and she wasn't any of the identities she assumed, then who was she? Was she some amalgamation of those people, stored in the same body she always had? She'd figure it out, she guessed, but it didn't feel good to be so… unsettled.

Emily was… well, confused. That last case, the Doyle case, it made her question herself. The feelings… They became real. It got to the point where she wasn't sure where Emily ended, and her cover began. Faking something for so long made it seem real which made everything complicated. Her life felt like a mess and things just seemed chaotic.

"Stop thinking about it Emily," she scolded herself. "It's done. There's no more Lauren. There's no more anyone but Emily Prentiss."

No matter how many times she repeated that like a mantra, the longer she stayed in the condo with no noise or power, or anything to distract her, the more she thought about things that needed to remain neatly packed in their compartments. The walls were beginning to feel too close, trapping her.

"The mail. I can go through the mail," she decided. There was nothing else to do and she wasn't ready to make contact with the outside world just yet.

She sorted through the pile. Junk, junk, junk… Invitation, junk… Invitation… Doctor reminders, dentist reminders… Clearly, she missed those checkups. Letter. Letter?

The letter definitely caught her attention. The envelope was a bit bigger and felt heavy. The handwriting looked a lot like James, though, it appeared more frenzied, she profiled. "Why send a letter?" she questioned as she ripped the seal. She pulled out a second envelope and some paper. Unfolding the papers, she read his handwritten letter:

Emily,

If you're reading this, you're finally home and I ask that you call me right after you read this. When you're ready. Please. The last time we talked, you wrote that you'd be home within a few months, and I said that I wanted to see you and talk in person. We still need to do that. It's important, but what I have to tell you can't wait. I don't want to blindside you, and though I'd rather have done it all in person, I know you enough to know that you'll be upset and need a moment to process this. Read the rest of this completely, and then take a deep breath.

About a month or two after you left, Vince and I got to talking. Losing the baby was hard. We were trying to complete our family and then it was just gone, but we weren't ready to give up. You know us, always fighters. Right? So, we talked and talked some more and decided to try again. We didn't plan on doing it right away. It took Heather about three months to be up on her feet after the accident and another month after that before the doctor was completely comfortable with doing the in-vitro.

I wanted to tell you then, but with you so far away, I thought it was better to wait until we had real news. I don't think it can get any realer than it is now. The first round didn't take, but the second one did. Heather was pregnant again. She was having our baby. The pregnancy was easy. There were no complications, everything about it was healthy, and the birth itself was smooth.

It's a boy. He's our boy. We found out he was a boy as early as we could so we could paint the nursery. None of that yellow crap, we wanted to go all out. We picked funny named paint together and everything. You would have loved making fun of the names with us. We were going to put our girl in a room painted Devilish Diva. Tell me that wouldn't have been fitting for an offspring part Prentiss and part Hadley. You can't, can you? But, since he's a boy, we went with Crazy Eyes, a blue-green color. I'm sad that you missed out on all of this because you are my closest friend and I would have loved to share all of this with you, but I know you were away for your job. Anyway, we went all out for the nursery. It's probably the best decorated room in our place and perfect to welcome him home in.

We named him Nathaniel. Nathaniel Matthew Hadley. I remember you saying that Nathaniel means "Gift of God" and while none of us are very religious, he is our gift. Matthew I pushed for. I knew it was a name that meant something to you. He was born at 7:57 on June 3rd, a big boy: eight and a half pounds, 21 inches long, after a five-hour labor. I'm told that's quick, but not uncommon in a woman who has given birth multiple times. He was one week early and just so ready to be a part of this world. He can scream like a banshee and be as sweet as a teddy bear at the same time.

I've never been so happy, so out of my element, and so tired in my life. He is so… He's perfect and I couldn't imagine my life without him. I know you'll love him too.

Here's the part I know is going to kill you. Nate is about thirteen months now. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner. Please don't be mad. I love you and we've been through a lot. Call me when you're ready. We can talk and you can meet Nate. He's gorgeous, he's happy, and he even looks a little like you. He's an amazing gift.

I love you, Em. Look through the pictures. I put a bunch of them in the envelope and there are plenty more of them that I have waiting in a book for you. Let's meet. Call me and I'll come over or we can go out, but let's talk. I'm sure you have a lot to say and I want to hear it. The good, that bad, and the angry.

James

Emily held the letter in her hand and just sat there, no movement. She wasn't even sure she was breathing at that point. She was surprised, to say the least, and a million different thoughts were racing in her head. She couldn't make sense of any of them. What the hell was she supposed to do with this?

They had a baby who was more toddler than baby at that point. And she had no idea it was even happening. Why hadn't he just told her? They emailed. They even had phone calls on occasion. So how could he not mention it? God, she was happy for them. This was what they wanted and the reason she helped them, but she was angry too. There was no reason to keep it from her…

Her hands balled into fists before she took a deep breath and released. She touched her cheek, realizing it was wet. She was crying. Nathaniel… There was a little boy in the world who she was the mother of, biologically speaking. That thought made her happy. It brought her joy, and when she finally got around to opening the other envelope and looking at all the pictures, it gave her a feeling of warmth.

He was magnificent. He was born bald, adorable as can be, and a little chubster. She looked at all the pictures, seeing him grow from tiny baby to teetering toddler. She swore that, even though biology said it was impossible, that she saw a little of both James and Vince in him. He definitely had her hair: thick and dark. He had Vince's skin tone, just a little tanner than James, and eyes, a gorgeous amber-brown color.

She couldn't stop staring. The pictures laid scattered on the table in her estimated chronological order as she took it in, took all that was him, in. Then the anger set in. She didn't get to be a part of any of it. She didn't get to experience anything. She didn't even know it was happening. How was that fair? Was that what they wanted? To erase her? She wasn't his mom, but she was something, wasn't she? Emily honestly didn't have an answer to that. She wanted to say yes, that she was something, but evidence would prove otherwise.

All she could do was memorize the images, looking for things in Nathaniel that she recognized in herself as well. But, after a long while just sitting there, staring, Emily picked up the phone and called James.

"Hello?"

"Saying you're thinking about trying again and actually having a baby are not the same thing," she said forcibly, not bothering with any actual greeting.

"Emily?"

"What the hell, James? You had a baby. Thirteen months ago!"

"I know…"

"You didn't say anything."

"Yes I did. I said we were talking about it."

"That's not even in the same realm." Her voice was laden with anger. "I'm supposed to be your friend, James. I gave you…" She tried to control herself. "I had a right to know."

"I know, Emily. I know. I didn't want to tell you through email. I wanted to tell you in person. When you left, you didn't say you'd be gone for three years!" He could hear her sigh and swore that there was the hint of recent crying there too.

Sad, she quietly responded, "I didn't know then. I didn't know." And if she did, if she knew all that would happen both in her work and, apparently, in her home, then she wasn't sure she would have gone. She missed too much. That didn't excuse anything though. He still should have told her.

"When did you get home?" he asked, his voice even as he tried to keep her calm.

Still attempting to breath deeply and relax, Emily responded, "Today. This morning."

"Let's meet. Tomorrow."

"Tonight," she demanded.

"Your place?"

"Antonio's."

"The bar?"

"Yes. That used to be where we went. Seems… fitting. And I need a drink." Or four.

"I'll be there in an hour."

"I'm so mad, James… I…" She didn't have the right words to verbalize the extent of her feelings. They were all over the place and couldn't be described in just one way.

"I know," he said dejectedly. He knew that she would be upset. He kept something big from her, but it wasn't just his decision. Not only could he not reach her to talk but Vince didn't want her to know. He didn't really want her involved this time. With her gone, James didn't see the harm in that. They didn't know when or even if she'd come back, so he listened to Vince to avoid an argument. As long as Emily wasn't there, it was a nonissue, but now that she was, he would have to see what happened. "I'm going to leave in ten minutes, Emily. We'll talk in person."

"Fine."

Hanging up, Emily didn't even bother to change. Instead, she just threw her wallet back into her bag and slipped on a pair of shoes before leaving for the bar. As soon as she arrived, she found a booth and ordered. "I'll take a Vodka tonic, light on the tonic."

"Sure thing," the bartender said, fetching her drink.

Once she got it, she went back to her booth and waited for James. She was early, but she couldn't stay home any longer. The short walk to the bar, she hoped, would help calm her. It didn't, and now she was hoping the alcohol would do it.

By the time James arrived, she was already working her way to the bottom of her second glass and nothing felt any better. The only thing it did was take the edge off her paranoia, making her a little less vigilant and not notice when James arrived.

He looked around the bar searching for her, finding her in the spot they often frequented. He had to squint to make out if it was really her, but it was. He barely recognized her as he put his hand on her shoulder. She flinched away, jumping before turning around to see him.

Emily stood, forcing a tiny smile to her face. "James. It's good to see you," she said. Even if she wanted to punch him at the same time, it was nice to see a friendly face.

"Emily. You look… different."

"You mean the hair?" She spoke pointedly. She wasn't in the mood to have her appearance criticized.

"It's lighter. Shorter."

"Yeah."

"And you're… You look…"

"I don't think you're in a position to say anything but good at the end of that unless you want to make me more upset."

"You look good," he told her. She looked good, she just didn't look like she used to. She was a little skinnier, a little tanner, and her hair was styled differently. But he wouldn't say any more about that. He noticed the drink in her hand and decided he needed one too. "Refill?" he asked.

"Definitely." Emily pushed her glass toward him and watched as he sauntered over to the bar. He needed a moment after seeing her and so did she.

Seeing him felt good, but there were these overwhelming feelings of hurt, anger, and anticipation bubbling within. As much as she wanted to hear what he had to say, she wanted to yell at him just as much. And more than that, there was this dread. If he and Vince didn't want her to know about Nathaniel, it was possible they didn't want her to know him, and it wasn't like she could claim parental rights and force them to let her meet him. She did though, want to meet him… So badly. If they didn't let her… She didn't know what she would do.

"Here," James said, breaking her thoughts before they could go any further.

"Thanks," Emily said, accepting the drink.

The two sat in silence, James looking over Emily, trying to understand the changes that seemed to go beyond physical and Emily trying to make sense of everything. It wasn't working out well for either of them, and instead of talking like they should be, it stayed relatively quiet, the ambient bar noise the only thing between them.

"It shouldn't be this awkward," James said, breaking the tension.

"No," Emily agreed. "It shouldn't. Just like you shouldn't have kept things, important things, to yourself for years."

"Emily…"

"No James. I have to say this and you need to listen."

He nodded.

"I don't care what your intentions were. Whether you and Vince decided you wanted nothing to do with me or just didn't want me to be a part of his life, I still deserved to know. I deserved to know that somewhere out there was a little boy with my DNA. I went into this with your word that I'd be in the loop." Her voice was firm and raised, but not to a point that would draw attention. "What was the plan? Run away from me? Ignore my calls? Pretend I didn't exist? Hope I died out on assignment?"

"Emily, of course not! No, absolutely not."

"Then I don't get it. How hard is it to say that Heather was pregnant? That you had a son."

"Things are… Things are complicated."

"How?"

"I wanted to tell you right away, I did," he promised. Emily didn't quite believe him.

"Then what stopped you?"

"Vince did."

"What?" She and Vince hadn't had any problems. Why? Why would he want to keep her in the dark? What did she do? "What do you mean?"

"Look, Em, it's nothing against you."

"Really? Sure seems that way." She was miffed.

"Really," he stated. "He just wanted it to be us for a while. You were gone, so he wanted to wait until you came home. It wasn't like we were going to keep you out of his life forever. We just wanted the time that you were away to be just us."

"That's a cop out," she told him. "Even if you told me, I wasn't there and it wasn't like I could just quit and come back here, so it would have been just you, Vince, and Nathaniel either way. What's the real reason?"

"Emily."

"Tell me," she demanded.

"I don't know Emily. I don't know."

"That's not good enough."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me the truth. Why did you really keep this from me?"

"Because…" he was getting squirrelly, reluctant to tell her the truth. "Vince doesn't want you involved… at all."

"Meaning?"

"Emily, you know what it means… He doesn't want you around."

Eyes squinted and burrowing into his, Emily asked, "And what do you want?"

"I don't know, Emily. I love you and I want you to know Nate, but I love Vince and we have a family. I don't want to ruin that. He's my partner… I can't just ignore what he wants."

"He's not even giving me a chance, James. I don't want to be Nate's mom." Lie. "I'm not his mom, but I'm not nothing. That was what we talked about. It was part of the deal. You guys raise him, but I still get to be a part of his life." Her voice was pleading with him.

From the moment she learned about Nate, once the blow wore off, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time. Love. She felt love for this little boy whom she never met and the threat of never being able to meet him was breaking her heart.

Honestly, James' heart was breaking in that moment, too. He could see the pain on her face.

"Do you want to meet him?" he asked.

Her eyes lit up. "Yes. Yes, I really would."

He returned the genuine smile that finally found its way to her face. "Vince has to work tomorrow, and since the weather is so great, I thought I'd take Nate to the park down the road from us. The one we used to go to all the time in high school. Why don't you meet us there?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Vince might take some convincing, but you're right. You're as much a part of the reason he's here as we are, and you should know him. It's what we always told you, and I want that."

"Me too."

"Good," he said. "So, then no more of this." He pulled away her glass. "Go get yourself some coffee, get some rest, and we'll be there at ten tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good… Sounds perfect."

It made her heart beat faster and her mind speed. She was going to meet the boy who she, in some sense, mothered. That was an odd thought for her but one that made her giddy inside. She wanted to know so much, to ask so many questions, but she also wanted to learn who Nate was on her own.

Being undercover, meeting and bonding with Declan, made her realize that she loved kids. She loved Declan and she could already feel her love for Nathaniel. With Declan, she was so close to going against every oath she made, getting Doyle out of that life and raising Declan in some far away land. She loved that boy, and a part of her felt like she was getting her chance here. If logic was completely in play, she'd realize that wasn't what was happening. Nathaniel wasn't Declan, and James wasn't asking her to raise his son. But her mind was singularly focused on the chance that was there and on the fact that she was going to meet him.

"Hey, you with me? Where'd you go?" James asked her after she began starting into space.

"Nowhere. I'm just thinking about something."

"Ok. I guess I should get home. Vince is waiting on me."

His name put a sour taste in her mouth, but she shook it off and when he stood, she asked, "Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"That you're here with me? That I'm back?"

"That you're back, yes. That I'm with you and have told you about Nate? No."

"Going to tell him about tomorrow?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Ever?"

"One day at a time, Em. One day at a time." James squeezed her shoulder and said goodbye, leaving her there to pull her thoughts together.

She was suddenly feeling very sober and very conflicted. Thoughts racing again, she sat there a minute to try and sort them to no avail. Paying her bill, she left hoping that the cool night air would give her some clarity.

It was late, but not so late that stores were closed and all the creeps were out, so she took her time walking home. She missed being home, missed Virginia, and wasn't even ashamed to admit that she missed her mom. The familiarity of their stupid arguments would be a comfort to her.

"I'll have to call her soon," Emily spoke to herself. But she had other things to take care of before that.

Walking, Emily stumbled upon a baby store that seemed to be just about ready to close, and felt an urge to go in and look around. When she found out about the first baby, she went out and bought a blanket that she planned to give to the baby once he or she was born. It didn't feel right to give that to Nathaniel. It wasn't meant for him and, though it wasn't truly her baby to lose, she felt the loss. That blanket would forever remain in her possession. But it would be nice to have something special to bring to the park the next day; an icebreaker gift and something for the little boy to have and to be connected to her by, even if he didn't know who she was to him.

She went into the store, not paying much attention to anyone around her, and just tried to find something that she thought Nate might like. The fact that she knew next to nothing about him wasn't lost on her, but she had to hope that, whatever she picked, he'd like it. When she was looking through some of the different items, she recalled her own childhood and something that gave her joy and comfort no matter what mood she was in. For her, it was a plush doll with yarn hair that her grandmother made for her shortly before her death. She carried it with her everywhere and it made her feel safe and loved. She wanted that for him, and, though a doll might not be the right choice, there had to be something that would call to her.

She found it in the next aisle. A hoard of stuffed animals had their eyes trained on her, really creeping her out. So many of them were adorable, but their eyes really put her off, until she saw it. In the sea of white fluff and bright plush was a brown dog with floppy ears and cream colored patches all over it.

"It's perfect," she said, pulling it from the pile.

Emily rubbed the soft material against her cheek and smiled. Yeah, boy or girl, chances were a kid would love it. No hesitation, no thinking she might find something better, she brought it to the register, paid, and went straight home. It had been an incredibly long day and she wasn't sure she was processing any of it. Being home didn't feel like being home. It was like the familiar things suddenly felt so foreign as everything was uprooted yet again.

All she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep sounded good. But even when she was home and relaxing, she felt restless. It was like the last few years constantly on guard topped by the sudden and unexpected news was all catching up to her. She didn't know how to be normal, but man was she tired. The constant tossing and turning wasn't helping.

"Ugh," she groaned, frustrated. She needed a good night's rest before meeting them in the park the next morning, so she was praying for sleep to come, but it didn't.

Emily reached to turn on the bedside lamp, her hand grazing the fuzzy object on the nightstand. The dog, she realized, grabbing it. She hugged the toy tightly against her chest and thought about giving it to Nathaniel the next day. She ended up curling up with it, cuddling the dog until she fell asleep.

She woke up the next morning with it still in her grasp and a smile of anticipation on her face. Two more hours and she'd get to meet him. Just two more hours, she told herself, not hesitating to get out of bed. She gave the little dog another squeeze and put it back on the table. She didn't want to forget it later.

Excitingly getting ready, Emily rushed through her old routine and she was so nervous, she didn't even want to think about breakfast.

"Coffee, coffee, coffee…" she said, searching her apartment for some to brew.

There was still another hour before she had to leave, and she needed something to pass the time. So, since she couldn't find anything suitable to pass for coffee around her apartment, she grabbed all she'd need for the day, carefully placing the dog into the bag, and got to her car. Hanging out at a coffee shop, she tried to imagine how the day would go.

Would Nathaniel like her? Would he want to play with her? Kids didn't seem too picky, so that one was probably a given, but who knew? She just wanted him to like her and have fun with her. That was all. And she was going to do everything in her power to make that happen. Though, it would seem, the clock wasn't moving fast enough for her liking. It wasn't until ten of ten that she finally breathed, grabbed another cup of coffee to-go for her and one for James, and left for the park.

It was warm out, the August air lacked the high humidity and overbearing heat, making it a nice day for the park. She got there before James and waited in the same spot they used to hang out in as kids. She knew James would look for her there. Her nails took a bit of a beating as she waited. Her vigilance was on high as she surveyed the area.

"You're here," she heard James say as he approached from behind her.

Emily jumped up, smile on and looked toward them. "Hi James." Her eyes looked down to Nathaniel. He was even more handsome in person. "And hello little man," Emily kneeled to his height. "I'm Emily."

"Say hi, Nate," James instructed.

The little boy waved his hand and quietly said, "Hi."

James gave his son a little nudge in Emily's direction and he happily walked over to her. His eyes were drawn to the bench.

"What's got your attention?" she asked, like he understood that. "What do you see?"

Nate pointed to her purse. "Ah, you have a good eye. Come here." Emily held out her hand for him and instead of taking it, he held up both his arms and motioned for her to pick him up. She was more than happy to oblige, stealing him into her arms and giving him a hug as she stood up and brought him over to the bench where her purse was resting.

"I have something for you Nate," she told him and pulled the dog out to give to him.

His eyes went wide, his mouth formed an "o," his hands grabbed for it, and they both heard that childish gasp of awe as Emily give it to him."

"Me?"

"Yes, for you."

"Dada, my toy. My toy." Nate chanted as he squeezed it the same way Emily was squeezing him.

It felt good to have him in her arms, so good and natural. James couldn't argue that either. Her nose found its way into his hair, inhaling that clean smell. She wanted to remember everything about that moment, about meeting him. The way he smelled, the feel of his weight on her lap, his languid smile, the way the wind blew his hair into his eyes and he swatted it away… She wanted to memorize everything.

The feelings were, they were amazing. He was beyond what she imagined, and she could already feel herself getting attached.

She told herself from the beginning, before there was ever a real baby, that she wouldn't get attached, that her role was minimal, but all that went out the window the moment she heard the first baby's heartbeat and now seeing his cherubic little face. How could she ever walk away?

The answer: she wouldn't. That day, she ran around the park with him, pushing him on the swings and riding down the slide until he passed out in her arms, so tired from the play. Then, over the next few weeks, Emily spent as much time with Nate as James would allow. She loved that little boy so much that it hurt when she was away from him. And she knew, she knew that her feelings went beyond what they should. She wasn't his mother, but, god help her, she sure felt like she was and, in some respects, so did Nate, which became a problem for the men.

Vince found out that she and James were not only talking, but spending a lot of time together and including Nate in their get togethers. He wasn't thrilled. In fact, he voiced how unhappy he was about it to James. They fought and fought until James said that this was the way it had to be and left for the night, crashing at Emily's so that they could have some space to cool down.

After that, Vince and James made up. It took a few days, but Vince said that he'd give her a chance, though, it quickly became obvious that he didn't like what he was seeing. Nate gravitated toward Emily when she was around. He liked the "mother's" touch, and that did nothing but unsettle Vince further.

"This isn't ok," he told James, planting the initial seeds of doubt in his partner's head. "She's not his mom or his family. We are, and the more she's here, the more she becomes involved."

James wasn't seeing it the way Vince was at that point, but the time would come. By Christmas, there'd be a blow out. Emily was overstepping her bounds in Vince's eyes. She was playing too much of a role and spending too much time with them. Hell, sometimes he found James asking Emily about her opinion on parenting decisions the two of them should have been making without her. It bothered him, and it was time to make that known.

James invited her over for Christmas Eve. She came over with a bundle of gifts, mostly for Nate, and joined them for the evening. She helped the eighteen-month-old bake cookies for Santa and read to him. All the while, Vince was shooting daggers at her. He didn't want her there. She was monopolizing their son's time and impeding their own time. It wasn't fair, nor was it right. She was never part of his plan.

Things started moving toward the worst, or best, depending on who was asked and at what moment, when Emily took sleepy Nate upstairs to tuck him in for naptime. With Nate half asleep in her arms, she took him into his room, sat in the rocking chair, and sang him a lullaby.

"Again mama. Again," he said, stunning Emily.

"Did he call me mama?" she asked herself. Then he said it again and she knew it wasn't imagined. He called her mama and, wow, did it feel so new and incredible. But it wasn't right. She knew that. As right as it felt to her, despite the tingling of warmth throughout her body, she knew she was getting way too attached. How good it felt proved that.

"Not mama," she whispered to him. "Come on, Nate. Nap time."

She both sadly and happily put him into his bad, kissing his forehead, and when she came down from Nate's room and to the living room, Vince snapped. Vince, downstairs overheard Nate let the "m" word slip as he listened to the baby monitor. His son called Emily mama as he was being put to bed. While it delighted Emily to no end, it did the opposite to Vince.

He was irate, pacing at the bottom of the steps waiting for Emily to come down. Mama… How could she let his son call her mama? No. No, no, no, no, no. That wasn't allowed.

Hearing her come did nothing to quell the anger. "What are you doing Emily?"

"Coming down the stairs?" she responded innocently.

"Here. What are you doing here? He's not your kid," Vince told her once again. "Stop acting like he is. Stop taking over our lives. Stop always being here. I don't want you here."

"All I did was bring presents to a little boy I care about and spend time with my friends who invited me. What's so bad about that?" she asked.

"What's so bad is that this isn't your life. I don't want you as the mother of my son. If I wanted a wife, I would have married a woman. This is supposed to be our family: mine and James'. You're not a part of it. I heard him call you mama. You are not his mother. Damn it!" he yelled to himself. "I knew we shouldn't have used you. I knew it."

"Calm down Vince, please. You're going to wake him."

"No! I won't calm down, and if he does wake up, I'll put him back down. Me! His father! Not you. You. Are. Nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing."

Angered by that, though she could on some level at some other time and place see where he was coming from, Emily fought back. "I'm nothing? Then what does that make you? You don't even know if he's yours. James could be his father. Then you'd be nothing!" She didn't mean it. She knew it wasn't all biology. Love and nurturing counted too, but in that moment, she knew where to hit and went for it.

A cesspool of anger, resentment, fear, and utter excitement swirled within her.

"Emily," James stepped in. "I think it's time you go."

"James," she tried to plead.

"Emily, I love you, but go."

She solemnly nodded and left.

That was the last time she saw Nathaniel and Vince. James came by her apartment a week later, told her that he loved her, that Vince wasn't all right, but he wasn't all wrong either. There needed to be some space between them. They were moving. James and Vince wanted to travel a little before relocating for Vince's job. Emily wanted to fight it, wanted to say something, but nothing ever came from her mouth. There was no argument she would win.

James walked out of her apartment and never came back. He wrote to her about a month later and so began their arrangement. Emily would get letters with updates and that would be that.

With them gone, Emily felt a void she didn't understand before that moment. Wherever they were, she hoped that Nate still had the dog with him and every time he hugged the soft stuffed toy, that he would somehow know that she was out there, wishing she could return that hug too.

She didn't know heartbreak until she held something she was never sure she wanted and watched as it was stolen away taking with it a portion of her heart she didn't think would ever heal.