Emily had never been big on football – assuming she was in a country that even had American football...at least, until she started dating Derek. Then, she had to learn to enjoy it (or at least pretend to).

That didn't mean she understood it, of course, but she came to his games and cheered when everyone else did. (Derek had tried to explain it to her a few times, but she was – at best – foggy on the rules in spite of his attempts.)

She'd kind of avoided going to his games that year once the rumours of her pregnancy had spread, not wanting to have people gawking and whispering or to take any attention away from Derek and the team. But the season was winding down and Derek had really wanted her there, so she'd given in and agreed to come.

That didn't mean she felt at all comfortable as she took her seat on the bleachers, certain everyone's eyes were on her and her enormous belly.

"How's it going?" Fran asked, taking a seat next to her on the bleachers. It was the rare occasion when her work schedule allowed her to actually see a game.

"Hard to tell," Emily said, pushing her sunglasses to sit up on her forehead. "I don't think they're losing, so there's that..."

Fran laughed. "And how are you?" she asked.

Emily sighed, shrugged. "As long as no one decides to make a comment, I'll be great."

"You shouldn't worry about what anyone else says," Fran said gently.

"I know," she agreed, "I just want Derek to have his moment without people focusing on me."

Fran patted Emily on the shoulder. "What matters is that you're here to support him." Emily nodded slowly and Fran could immediately tell she had something on her mind. "Something the matter?" she asked.

"I feel guilty," she admitted quietly. "I feel like I'm making him give up something he loves..."

She shook her head. "He's not giving up anything he's not willing to sacrifice," she reassured.

"But...he could be going to a big name college and playing football with a real chance at going pro," she said, "But he's had to give it all up for me and Simba."

Fran reached over to squeeze her hand. "Maybe your lives aren't going to go the way you planned, but just because it's different doesn't mean it's bad. Derek may be going to community college, but he can still get a good education and play football."

Emily's smile was a little shaky, but it was genuine.

"Besides," Fran said, "Derek already loves his son so much – I know that if you asked him, he wouldn't think he's sacrificing anything."

Her smile was a little brighter this time.

By the time the buzzer sounded for halftime, Emily felt like she'd been sitting for about a week and she was more than ready to stretch her legs. So, she decided to go to the sidelines to see Derek. By the time she got down to the field, though, Derek was a little preoccupied...

She found him chatting animatedly with a gorgeous brunette cheerleader. The cheerleader kept putting her hand on his chest, laughing too hard at his jokes, and flirting none too subtly. And Derek was doing nothing to stop her...

For a few moments, Emily just stood there, frozen, as she watched the two. Then, she was overtaken by a powerful rage and before she knew what she was doing, she was stomping towards them.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she snapped.

"Princess!" Derek said, slinging an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. "Enjoying the game?" He leaned in to kiss her cheek, only to have her duck away at the last minute.

Instead of answering, she said snidely, "Not as much as you seem to be enjoying the halftime..."

He frowned. "Something wrong?"

"I don't know, is there?" she retorted with a pointed look at the cheerleader.

He was clearly confused, but sensing that he was in trouble, he said to the cheerleader, "Sorry, Savannah, give us a minute?" When she flounced off, he turned to Emily and asked, "Em, what is going on with you?"

"What's going on with you?" she said. "I mean, aside from the fact that I'm clearly so awful to look at that you need to ogle cheerleaders..."

He blinked a few times, too stunned to speak. When he finally managed to speak, it was with a stammered, "You... You're...not serious, right?"

Judging by her expression, though, she was.

"Come on, Em," he said gently, "Savannah is just a friend and you know I'm committed to you: we're having a freaking kid together."

"That doesn't mean your eyes don't wander..."

He groaned dramatically. "Are we really having this fight?" he asked.

Apparently, they were.

"Come on, Em. I love you. Tell me you know that!"

She shrugged. "I know you love me..."

He raised a brow. "But?"

She sighed. "But you can love someone and still cheat."

"Emily, I am not now nor will I ever cheat on you, okay?" He waited for some sign that she believed him, but none seemed forthcoming. "How can I prove this to you?"

"You don't have to prove anything," she said meekly, not sounding at all convincing.

For a few moments, he considered the situation. Then, he leaned in so his lips brushed her ear to whisper, "Marry me."

"What?" she said flatly.

"Marry me," he repeated. "Be my wife."

She pulled back to fix him with a pointed look. "You can't be serious."

"I'm serious about you and my son, so if you want a ring, I will get you a ring," he insisted.

In spite of her best attempts to remain serious, her bottom lip began to wobble.

He raised a brow. "Is that a yes?"

She shook her head. "You don't need to do that," she whispered.

"Are you sure?" he asked, brow still quirked.

She nodded. "I believe you. You proved your point."

He smiled his million watt smile. "You're so cute when you're being insecure," he teased. "But maybe I have been slacking a little on showing you how much I love and appreciate you. I'll try to do better."