Alex was in the middle of lecturing the latest batch of freshman linguistics students and, for whatever reason, Emily found herself standing in the back of the lecture hall. It was almost like deju vu harkening back to a few months ago when she'd found herself in the front row of this very same class watching with silent panic as the woman she'd had a one night stand with entered the lecture hall...

She hoped Alex hadn't spotted her because she was still furious and had no interest in having any kind of civil conversation...but she also wanted to make sure she was okay because she still loved her and wanted her to be happy and healthy, even if it wasn't with her. Which is why she'd skipped the lecture she was supposed to be attending to spy.

She couldn't help but think Alex looked decidedly worse for wear. Her skin had a sickly green tinge to it and she looked like she hadn't slept in about a week (the former easily attributable to nausea, the latter, though, Emily couldn't help but hope was because she was having as much trouble sleeping without her as she was without Alex).

But as long as she was teaching a class, surely she felt alright. At least, that was what Emily told herself.

Unfortunately, her theory was almost immediately blown apart when Alex paused mid-sentence, visibly blanching. Waving for her TA to take over for her, she dashed out the door, visibly struggling to keep her stomach in check.


There was a knock on the door to the staff bathroom in which Alex had locked herself. She'd stopped vomiting, but wasn't sure that if she tried to stand, her stomach wouldn't attempt to reassert its dominance. She groaned faintly – partly from the churning of her stomach, partly because she feared anyone knowing she was pregnant.

"Alex?" Emily's voice came through the door. "Are you okay?" She sounded genuinely concerned, maybe even worried and, if anything, that made everything worse.

"I'm fine," she lied, voice shaky. All she wanted was for Emily to hold her and tell her everything would be okay, but if she couldn't have that, she at least wouldn't subject her to seeing her in this state, knowing it would only hammer home the betrayal...

"Are you sure?" Clearly, Emily still knew the nuances of her voice well enough to see through the lie.

A beat.

A weak, "No..." Then, the lock clicked open, the door cracking open slightly. Alex could admit – if only to herself – that she was weak, as evidenced by just how easily she gave in to Emily's gentle persistence.

With a sigh, Emily joined her in the bathroom, settling next to her on the floor. She said nothing, but her gaze said everything all the same.

Several moments of awkward silence passed between them and Alex could barely breathe...though that could've just been the heartburn.

Then, Emily surprised her by passing her a bottle of ginger ale.

Alex stared at it like she couldn't quite understand what to make of the gesture, straightforward though it may have been.

"For the nausea," Emily offered as explanation, shrugging slightly. Then, "Not that I care."

Though the response and the icy note with which she'd said it cut deep, Alex smiled gratefully. "Thanks," she murmured, accepting the bottle with shaky hands, then drinking greedily.

Emily surprised her again by reaching for her free hand, squeezing it gently to stop its trembling. "How... How have you been doing?" she asked in a mumble. It was clear that she was trying very hard to act like she didn't care...and wasn't all that successful.

With a shaky exhale, she confessed, "Not great."

"You've been sick?" she asked, though the answer was obvious.

She nodded. "It's worse than last time," she added quietly.

Sympathy flickered in her eyes. "There... There weren't saltines or anything in the vending machines," she said, "But you seem like you need something in your stomach..."

"I'm supposed to be lecturing right now..."

Emily shrugged. "Your TA is already filling in, he might as well finish. That's what he's for," she replied.

Alex raised a brow. "Were you spying on me?" She tried not to smile at the knowledge that Emily was checking in on her, even in secret.

"Call it...auditing the lecture," she replied, almost embarrassed. Then, quickly changing the subject, she said, "Let's get you cleaned up." With a wet paper towel, she cleaned up the streaks of mascara trailing down her cheeks and it was almost tender.

Alex could feel her cheeks pinking at the contact and she had to force herself to look away from Emily's eyes lest she drown in their depths.

"I doubt the campus cafeteria has anything healthy enough to sustain a growing fetus," Emily said. She stood, extend a hand to help Alex off the floor. Once she was standing, though, Emily didn't release her hand.

They were both silent until Alex could stand it no longer. "Why did you come back for me?" she asked faintly. "You could have just walked away, you didn't have to check on me..."

"I know." Several long moments passed. "Unfortunately, though, I can't just turn off my feelings. I still care about you, even if I don't want to."

In a small meek voice, Alex repeated, "Unfortunately?"

"Alex, you really hurt me," she said, "I trusted you and you..." She trailed off, shook her head. "I don't want to love you anymore, but I do."

"I still love you, Emily," Alex murmured. "And I want to earn your trust back. I want you to come home."

"Home?" she repeated. "Alex..."

She shook her head. "No, I know... But please, just give me a chance."

Emily's eyes fell shut, just momentarily, but long enough for Alex to understand.

"If you can never trust me again, I'll understand..."

Instead of responding, though, Emily said, "Have you told your husband he's going to be a father?"

"Emily..." A beat. "No. And I'm not sure I'm going to."

Emily raised a brow. "Why not?"

With several shaky breaths, Alex tried to form a response, but couldn't.

"Alex?"

Her tongue flicked out over her bottom lip and she shook her head, then confessed, "I don't know if I'm keeping it..."