A/N: Okay, here we go again. I'm having so much fun writing this story so I had to get this next chapter out. I know everyone's anxiously waiting for what's to come, but I think it's necessary for the plot to show how Killian and Emma get together first. Plus, I hate skipping over that stuff. We'll be moving along quicker in the chapters to come though.
"Tell Granny you need Sundays off. And Wednesday nights."
Emma furrows her brows, scowling at her father from across the table as he continues to eat his breakfast. "I can't make demands before I'm even hired."
He looks up at her chewing the rest of his scrambled eggs before he responds. "You can give her your availability, can't you?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then you can tell her you're not available Sundays," he says dismissively. "It's a day of rest. And besides, what will the church have to say if you're not there singing in the choir?"
Emma huffs and rolls her eyes, dropping her fork on the plate. She picks up her mug, mumbling something nonsensical into it before taking a sip of her Keurig brewed cappuccino.
Her brother Leo is sitting between them, not paying attention as he plays on his phone.
"Leopold Henry, what have we told you about being on your phone at the table while you're eating?" Mary Margeret scolds him from across the table.
"But I'm not eating," he says, never taking his eyes off his phone screen while his breakfast plate still holds most of his food.
David looks at Leo's plate and frowns, crossing his arms before reverting his eyes to him. "That's right, you're not. You've barely touched your breakfast. Now, listen to your mother and put the phone away so you can finish it before your food gets cold."
Leo sighs and sets his phone down to pick up his fork and poke at his eggs.
Emma smiles a little, relieved her brother found a way to distract their parents, even if it was unintentional.
"I still don't understand why you can't take the job that's closed on Sundays as you did in Phoenix," her father says before taking a sip of his coffee.
Darn. it didn't work.
Emma frowns. "Because I'd rather work at the diner where all my friends frequent."
"But Emma, you get paid to work, not socialize."
"Why don't we discuss this tonight after dinner?" Mary Margeret interjects in a kind tone.
Emma glances at the clock on the wall, quickly downs the last of her cappuccino and wipes off her mouth with her hand. "Great idea, Mom." After her parents chastise her for not using a napkin, she leaps up and grabs her school bag from the back of her chair.
"Emma, you haven't finished your breakfast. We don't waste food in this house," her mother reminds her. "There are poor—"
"Starving children in the world, I know," Emma finishes, nodding in agreement. "You're right, I shouldn't waste food." Laying on the floor under the table is their dog, Wilby, who is patiently waiting for any food scraps he can get. Emma picks up her plate and sets it on the floor in front of him, "Here you go, Wilby," she says, ruffling a hand through his fur. Wilby stands on all fours and wags his tail in appreciation as he starts gobbling up the bacon. "There, now it's not wasted."
Her mother tilts her head, glaring at her as Emma kisses her cheek. "Bye, Mommy." She goes over to her brother and then her father and does the same. "Bye Leo, bye Daddy."
Leo mumbles a "See ya later, sis," as he picks up his phone again and continues playing his game.
"What's the big rush? You still have plenty of time," her father points out as he takes a peek at his watch.
"I want to get some reading in before my classes begin."
Her parents furrow their brows in suspicion.
"Since when do you go to school early to catch up on your reading?" David asks.
Emma shrugs. "Since I'm a senior. This is my most important year, right?"
"Well, yes…" Mary Margeret replies, narrowing her eyes. "You're sure there's no other reason?"
"Yep." It's not a complete lie. She had hoped to do some reading, but now she probably won't have enough time since her parents had made her sit down and have breakfast with them and because she'd been arguing with her father about applying at the diner. She doesn't tell her parents that though. She spins around and heads for the door, but then stops and turns around. "Oh, by the way, I have someone coming over tonight to help me with Trig. Okay, bye!"
"Wait! hold on just a minute, young lady," Her father demands in his firm, Dad voice, causing Emma to stop in her tracks. She never argues with her father when he uses his Dad voice.
She sighs and turns around again. "Yes, Daddy?"
"Who's coming to our home to help you with Trig?"
"It's only Killian, the boy who's been showing me around."
"The boy we still haven't met yet?" her mother is quick to point out.
"Relax, he's a nice boy, he introduced me to his friends and they're all really nice."
"Do they go to church?"
"Daaa-aaaddd, not all nice people go to church."
"I know that, Emma, I just want to know the people you're hanging around with."
"I thought you wanted me to make friends. You wanted me to meet different people so I could prepare for the real world," Emma says, finding the use of air quotes considerably satisfying. Her father is the one who enrolled her in public school rather than a private Christian school and didn't want her to be isolated from people who were different than her. Not that she's complaining. She just doesn't understand what the big deal is to have a boy over. She's seventeen and will be on her way out the door in less than a year anyway.
"Well, yes, but as long as you're living under this roof, we have a right to know who's coming over to help you with your homework."
"Then you'll meet him tonight. I have to go." Emma practically sprints out the door before her parents can respond. She jumps in her yellow bug and peels out of the driveway, heading to school as fast as she can without getting pulled over.
She's rolling her eyes again as the conversation with her father about applying at the diner roves through her mind.
Her life rotates around church and evangelism—youth group, prayer circles, supper clubs and bible studies. For once in her life, she wants to do something that doesn't involve church. For once she'd like to not be held to impossible standards and forced to meet her father's expected pristine behavior befitting a pastor's kid She wanted to do something just for her. Maybe it's selfish, but she is just a kid after all. She's the pastor's kid and she's sick of it.
When she was little, Emma had loved and worshipped God with ravenous adoration.
She'd get excited about going to church on Sundays and had been happy to wear a dress and a pair of tights, sitting in the front row beside her mom while her dad preached about heaven, love and obedience. It was so much easier back then though. It was easier when she looked at the world through rose-colored glasses and smiled all the time. Everywhere she went, she smiled. She smiled because she thought there was nothing wrong in the world and that everything gave her a reason to smile. God, her family, perfect strangers, the animals, the trees and the sky. Everything was so beautiful and perfect, so why wouldn't she smile?
She saw the world as black and white, like her parents were one of those couples from an old television show where the perfect little family had breakfast every morning at the kitchen table. The siblings always got along and the parents kissed each other goodbye before the dad left for work with his briefcase and the mom did the dishes and cleaned the house with a smile on her face.
She always had this warped illusion of her parents and thought they were like the ones portrayed on t.v. She thought they were the ideal couple who had this epic fairytale love story. Like Snow White and Prince Charming. But ever since she'd learned the secret they'd hidden from her for most of her childhood, she has seen them differently. Like she was under a sleeping curse that had been lifted, and now she's fully awake to the reality of her existence. She now sees her parents as normal, flawed adults, not fairytale characters living happily ever after.
She looks at her whole world a little differently now. A little more openly. The leaves on the trees are greener, the sky is bluer and the world is much uglier than what she remembered as a kid. Or maybe it's the same, but now she's seeing everything clearly. The real world isn't black and white after all.
Once Emma's inside the high school, she finds the nearest restroom, where Ruby is waiting for her.
"It's about time," the brunette complains as she looks at her phone. "School's about to start."
"Sorry, I was being interrogated by my parents for leaving early."
"No problem. Did they suspect anything?"
"I don't think so. I just told them I wanted to catch up on reading for some of my classes."
"Okay, cool." Ruby pushes open the door to the ladies' room and enters with Emma following behind her as some other girls are filtering out.
Emma feels a little naughty, like they're involved in some sort of drug-deal transaction. Ruby pulls some clothes out of her school bag and hands them over to Emma, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
Emma's mouth falls open as she studies the outfit in her hands and holds up the skirt. "Does this skirt follow the fingertip rule?" She's pretty sure her fingertips would fall below the hem.
Ruby's smile widens as she shakes her head. "Nope. But that's the point. If you want to impress a guy, you have to be bold."
Emma gulps thickly. "But what about Killian? Will this impress Killian?"
"It will make his eyes pop out of his head. That's what you wanted, right?"
Emma nods and bites her bottom lip. She's never worn an outfit like this, but if it makes Killian's eyes pop out of his head, then she's willing to give it a try. She goes into the stall and changes out of her blue jeans and grey tee. Her stomach is full of knots once she pulls on the black skirt and finds out her fingertips fall well below the bottom hem. She's sure she will never get away with wearing this. The red blouse covers everything, but the sleeves are made of see-through lace and the bottom hem of her shirt would show off her midriff if she reaches for anything above her head.
Emma takes a deep breath and pulls open the stall door, cautiously stepping out.
Ruby's jaw drops, her big green eyes bulging out of her skull.
Emma feels a flash of anxiety about this whole situation. "This was a bad idea, I should just change." She starts to turn around, but Ruby grabs her shoulders to stop her. "Why? You look hot! Holy crap, Killian is going to lose his mind when he sees you."
"Really?" Emma asks, still doubtful as she looks up at Ruby again.
She's still grinning from ear to ear. "Oh yeah."
When they leave the restroom and part ways, Emma heads to her locker, looking around for Killian as everyone's eyes are on her. She feels naked in these clothes, even though she's covering everything. But she's not used to wearing red; she's not used to wearing short skirts and her skirt is extremely short. She tugs at the skin-tight fabric, pulling it down as far as it will go, which is not very far. She hopes her parents don't find out about this. They'd be so disappointed in her. She's a little disappointed in herself, to be honest. Then it occurs to her—if she gets called to the principal's office for this, she'll have to confront the principal. The principal. As in Mr. Jones. As in Killian's father!
Crap.
How is she going to explain this to him? Her parents have instilled honesty in her, and for the most part, she tries her best to be honest, but she's guessing honesty will bode ill for her in this situation.
Oh, I just wanted to dress like a slut to impress your son. No big deal.
No, she definitely can't say that.
This was a bad idea. Why did she let Ruby talk her into this?
Emma's pretty sure her face is as red as her shirt by the time she reaches her locker and hangs her bag on the hook, contemplating whether or not she should just dart back to the restroom and change. She pushes herself up on her tiptoes to reach her books, a little self-conscious that she's showing off her bare stomach and her back. Maybe no one's watching. As she grabs her things, she hears books tumbling to the floor behind her.
"Bloody hell."
The sound of his voice makes her heart flutter. She loves his accent and the way the deep timbre of his voice tugs at her belly.
She tucks her textbooks under her left arm, clutching onto them tightly, and shuts her locker door before turning around. Ruby was right. Killian's jaw is on the floor and his eyes are popped out of his skull. Maybe this was not a bad idea after all.
"Hey, what's up?" she asks casually, trying to ignore the way he's gaping at her. Trying to ignore the way her heart skips when she gazes into those smoldering, sea-blue eyes. He's wearing a pair of blue jeans and a plaid shirt, with the first few buttons undone, showing off a white shirt underneath and his bare chest where a skull and crossbones and other pirate charms dangle on a chain. The sight of him always does something to her she's never felt before she'd met him.
He bends down to pick up his things, and that's when she remembers his books had fallen to the floor, along with his notebooks, papers and his jaw. Not wanting to moon everyone, she kneels on the floor, rather than bend over, and sets her books down to help him gather his things.
"You really don't have to…"
"I want to," she says, handing him some papers that had fallen out of his notebooks. Her eyes meet his and their close proximity takes her breath away. Her heart is racing and it's impossible to breathe with him looking at her the way he is. She has to rip her eyes away from his hypnotizing stare to pick up her books.
"Thanks, love," he says with an embarrassed smirk as he rises.
"It's my pleasure."
When he takes her hand and helps her up, his touch sends a surge of warmth through her body.
She pulls her hand away, only to straighten her skirt as his gaze scrolls down her body and then up again until their eyes lock. "Emma, you look…" he begins as he sweeps his free hand through the air between them, motioning toward her body.
Emma's cheeks burn under his gaze. She hadn't expected this much of a reaction from him.
"You look… different," he finally finishes.
"Different?" she asks, lifting a brow, not sure if he means different in a good or bad way.
"Good different," he assures, managing a small grin.
"Thanks." She flashes a sheepish smile, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear.
They make their way toward their first class as Killian starts scratching behind his ear. He's so adorable when he does that. But really, he's adorable when he does anything.
She looks down, trying to hide the blush from her cheeks.
He gives her another once over as they walk and then he leans in and whispers in her ear. "You're trying to kill me, love, aren't you?"
She lifts her head and smirks at him. "What if I am?"
He shrugs. "I'd let you."
Emma shudders at his words and she purposely brushes her hand against his as they walk. She'd also purposely tucked her books in her left arm, on the side opposite Killian for this particular purpose. He's also holding his books in his other arm, so perhaps he had the same idea, considering he's touching her knuckles and thumb with his.
She feels the loss when he moves his hand away, but she's definitely not complaining when he slips his palm into hers. Her skin tingles and her heart flutters as he entwines his fingers with hers. She bites her bottom lip and smiles at him. He smiles back at her, tightening his hand around hers.
They continue to class like that, holding hands and walking slowly, not looking forward to separating. Before they enter the room though, Killian's still holding onto her hand as he pulls her aside, his features etched with concern. Emma gives him a questioning look, her brow raised in confusion.
"Emma, you should change."
She frowns at him, a little irritated and offended. One minute she's floating on a cloud, thinking he liked the way she looked, and now he's telling her to change? "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" she asks defensively.
"Believe me, love, there is nothing wrong about the way you look in those clothes, but you'll get in trouble for not following the dress code, and I don't want Mrs. Squires to send you to the principal's office. I don't want my dad to tell your parents or for you to get in trouble with them."
"Well, maybe I don't need you to protect me. I look out for me."
"Emma… I know I don't need to protect you, but you don't need to dress like that to look good. You're already the prettiest girl in school. All the girls are already jealous of you," he says with a small smirk.
Emma narrows her eyes at him. She's not sure whether she should slap him or kiss him. The latter sounds rather tempting though. She sighs and hangs her head. "I just wanted to… I see how all the other girls act around you and I was afraid you'd think I was too much of a good girl," she mumbles as she stares at the ground and toys with the hem of her shirt. "I just wanted to impress you."
Killian lifts his hand, gently lifting her chin so she'll look him in the eye as he flashes her a smile. "Emma, it's okay to be a good girl. You don't need to change who you are, especially not for me. Besides, in case you haven't noticed," he says leaning in until his lips are only an inch away from hers, "I happen to like who you are. I was impressed with you the second I laid eyes on you."
Emma manages a small smile under his heavy gaze, her geeks heating with blush. "Yeah, I did kinda notice. You're right, I shouldn't have wanted to change my look for some guy."
"Oi, I'm not some guy, I'm your future husband, remember?" he teases, pretending to be offended.
Emma laughs and nods. "That's true." She looks around, scoping out the hallway to find it mostly empty; students and teachers are already in the classrooms, and the bell is about to ring, so she takes advantage of the opportunity to do something she's wanted to do all morning, without having an audience. She grabs the charms of his necklace and gently pulls him to her, capturing his lips. Killian emits a little groan and moves his lips delicately against hers, curling his free hand around her hip. There are no tongues involved, but she can taste a hint of mint on his breath and sighs pleasantly, indulging in the softness of his lips.
The kiss is tender and sweet and she never wants to break free from his lips or from him. The scent of his musky cologne is intoxicating and the way he grips onto her hip and gently nips on her bottom lip sends pleasurable sparks all over her skin. Knowing she has to stop before someone sees them, she slowly breaks the kiss, their lips clinging to one another as she pulls away. "Thank you," she whispers and licks her lips, resting her forehead against his.
"Of course, Emma," he breathes, his voice completely wrecked. "If you want to change, I'll cover for you with the teacher."
"Okay." She kisses him once again on the lips before pulling away, offering a flirty smile. "I'll see you in class."
"Okay." His grin is lopsided as he backs away.
As soon as he disappears into the classroom, the bell rings.
Emma retrieves her bag from her locker and changes before entering the classroom. She instantly feels better in her normal clothes. Killian seems to agree as he smirks at her and wags his eyebrows when she takes a seat next to him.
The teacher barely acknowledges her and continues with her lesson plan. Emma sighs in relief and turns her head to see Killian typing something on his phone and then she sees her silenced phone light up on her desk with a message.
Future husband of mine: 🔥🔥🔥
Future husband of mine: Yep, still smokin' hot
Emma muffles a laugh with the palm of her hand, her cheeks flooding with blush. He had started texting her the other day and she'd quickly plugged him into her contacts as her future husband. She still can't believe the cutest boy she's ever met wants her as his future life. But she's not about to question it.
Emma: Shut up
Future husband of mine: Emma, love, you're more than welcome to make me shut up after school 😉
Emma: Don't tempt me. I might take you up on that challenge 😉
Future husband of mine: I can't wait :)
Emma: What did you tell Squires?
Future husband of mine: That you had to use the restroom for a feminine emergency. She didn't question it.
Emma: *snorts* Nice. Thanks again :)
Future husband of mine: No problem.
Future husband of mine: Your parents are okay with me coming over, right?
Emma: Yeah of course. They can't wait to meet you.
Future husband of mine: Should I be worried? Or terrified? Or both?
Emma: No. Just be yourself and you'll be fine.
She looks over to see him blushing profusely as he stares at his phone screen.
Future husband of mine: Thanks, love.
Emma: YW
Future husband of mine: 💋💋💋
Emma: 💋💋💋
They share kisses through text as the day goes on and then they share an actual long kiss in the parking lot before they leave for her house. He did challenge her to shut him up, after all, and she never backs down on a challenge.
Emma's a little nervous about Killian meeting her parents, to be honest, but when she arrives at her house with him, he doesn't appear to share her anxiety. If he does, he doesn't show it.
"You're Emma's father, right? What was your name?" Killian greets David at the front door.
Emma smiles to herself. She can't believe he'd remembered the conversation they had the day they met when she'd told him she wished someone would greet David as Emma's father instead of greeting her as the pastor's kid.
"Yes, I am. David Nolan."
Killian holds her father's gaze and firmly shakes his hand. "Killian Jones. Nice to meet you, sir."
Her mother greets him with her usual cheerful energy and vibrant smile as she pulls him into a hug. "It's so nice to meet you, Killian."
"You too, Mrs, Nolan," he says politely.
"Please, call me Mary Margeret."
"Will do."
Emma sighs in relief when her father pats Killian on the shoulder and invites him in. He offers to take Killian's jacket and stores it in the closet before they head to the kitchen. Though Emma's nerves start to dwindle, she's more worried about the inevitable interrogation process delivered by her father.
What's your GPA? What are your plans when you graduate high school? Do you have a job?—these questions would make Emma's palms sweat if she were the one being grilled like she's being interviewed for a job, but Killian retaliates quickly, firing back his answers smoothly and confidently, like he's been preparing for this his whole life. It's a good thing he has his future all planned out, and Emma knows her father is impressed by him. But still, it's hard to listen to. She and Killian aren't even dating and his father is already down his throat.
Are they dating? Do they have to go out on an actual date to be considered dating? Emma doesn't even know.
She and Killian finally get to their math homework, and they sit at the kitchen table while Wilby begs for Killian's attention, which he gladly gives, petting him and rubbing his belly. Wilby loves strangers, but she imagines Killian has a one-of-a-kind touch and she wishes to be on the other end of his hands, instead of the dog. Emma berates herself for thinking like that. She's wearing a purity ring and she's not supposed to have impure thoughts. Emma stares at the ring, twisting it around her finger as Killian explains a complicated math equation to her.
A year ago, she attended a purity ball where she and her father dressed up in ball gown attire and spent a night of dinner and dancing together. At the end of the evening, she was given a red rose and a purity ring her father had provided her with. On the inside of the band, there's an inscription that reads True love waits. Emma had scoffed to herself upon receiving it. Her parents surely didn't wait. But that's a whole different story. During the purity ceremony, Emma's youth pastor had explained that the flower in her hands represented her purity. Each time she gave someone a piece of her heart, she was tearing off a petal from her flower. This meant that if she gives and gives and gives her heart away, there will soon be nothing left to give.
As she sits with Killian and watches him, watches the way he smiles at her and the way his eyes dance when he jokes around with her, as she stares at his lips and holds his hand, threading her fingers with his, whenever her parents aren't in the kitchen, she wants to give Killian her flower. And she wants to throw her purity vow out the window. Why should she wait for true love anyway? Her parents didn't.
"Your parents seem young," Killian comments when it's just the two of them in the kitchen.
"They had me when they were young," Emma replies, not wanting to expand on her answer.
He looks at her, arching a brow. "How old are they?"
Emma averts her eyes, staring at the math problem in front of her while she chews on the end of her pencil. "Forty," she mumbles. But forty is rounding up. A lot. She immediately regrets lying to Killian. She hates being dishonest in general, but with Killian, she feels really guilty.
"Really? I would've guessed thirty-five or thirty-six."
Her father enters the kitchen, she assumes to check on them, and they immediately release each other's hand before David catches them.
Emma's surprised when her father asks Killian if he would like to stay for dinner. He answers with, "Aye, as long as Emma doesn't mind. And of course, she doesn't.
Dinner goes smoothly, except she's a little bummed Killian has to sit across from her and not beside her. On second thought, she likes having him in front of her so she can stare at him and gaze into those ocean blue eyes.
After dinner, she and her parents see Killian to the front door.
"Do you ever go to church with your father?" David asks him once they reach the foyer.
Emma groans inwardly. Please don't, Dad. She prays her father doesn't scare Killian off.
Thankfully he doesn't seem to mind the question. "I used to go all the time, but not so much anymore."
Emma narrows her eyes at him. She doesn't believe him. One, because he never mentioned he used to go and two, because she can tell he's lying by the way he scratches behind his ear. He's nervous and has every right to be. Her father is kind, but he can be quite intimidating at times.
"Well, Killian, it was nice meeting you and I would love to see you at church sometime if you're ever interested in returning."
Killian blushes and scratches behind his ear. "Um… actually I was planning on going this Sunday."
Emma's not sure who's more surprised—she or her parents. "Oh that's wonderful," her mother comments. "You'll get to see Emma sing in the choir. She's a very talented singer."
"Mo-ooom," Emma whines, rolling her eyes.
Killian lifts a brow, intrigued. "You sing? You've been holding out me, Emma."
"She doesn't like to brag," her mother says, wrapping her arm around Emma and kissing her temple. Emma forces a smile, her cheeks burning red.
"Well, I'll have to hear for myself then," he says, winking at Emma, making her heart flutter. "I'll definitely be there this Sunday."
"Alright, see you then," Mary Margeret says with a beaming smile.
"Bye, Killian," Emma bids him with a wave.
"Goodnight, Emma." They exchange longing looks, but neither of them can show any affection toward each other. The look he gives her says it all though.
David hands Killian his jacket that he'd retrieved from the closet and Killian slips it on, reaching into his pockets. "Oh, I think I left my phone on the table. Can I check?"
"Oh sure, go right ahead," Mary Margeret answers.
"I'll help him find it," Emm says.
They head to the kitchen in search of the phone, with her father tagging along, but it's nowhere to be seen.
"You know what, I must've left it in the truck."
"Well, if it happens to turn up here, I'll make sure Emma gives it to you at school," her father tells him as they return to the foyer.
Killian offers a warm smile. "Thank you, I appreciate that. And thanks again for having me over for dinner."
"It was our pleasure," Mary Margeret assures him.
David holds the door for him, and he steps outside. To Emma's horror, her father joins Killian on the porch and closes the door. Her mouth suddenly goes dry as she watches her father talk to Killian. About what, she doesn't know.
"Mom, what do you think Dad's talking to him about?"
"I don't know, sweetie. But you know your father; he's probably just asking Killian what his intentions are with you."
Emma gulps, her eyes widening at the realization. Her father is going to scare off the only boy she's ever liked.
She panics and can no longer watch, so she tells her mom she's going to bed. Emma brushes her teeth, changes into her nightgown and paces around her room, wondering how Killian responded to her father. She has to find out, lest she goes crazy. She's clutching onto her phone so tightly in her hand, her knuckles are white. She loosens her grip to type a message.
Emma: Hey, sorry about my dad.
Future husband of mine: No need to apologize. He's a good man.
Emma: Oh good, you found your phone.
Future husband of mine: Aye, it was in the truck. I'd lose my head if it weren't attached lol.
Emma laughs and types a response.
Emma: Can I ask what my dad said to you outside? I'm dying of suspense here lol.
Killian doesn't answer for what feels like forever. So she texts him again.
Emma: Killian, you there?
Finally, he responds a minute later.
Future husband of mine: Love, he doesn't want me to see you anymore.
Future husband of mine: He threatened to tell my father that I've corrupted you if I continue to pursue you, and he'll persuade him to send me off to boot camp. He claims to be very persuasive, which I guess is why he's good at his job, right?
Emma: Oh come on, my father's all preach. He would never do that.
Future husband of mine: He was pretty serious about it and I'm not willing to find out whether he'll make good on his promise or not. I'm sorry Emma. I hope you understand.
Emma's throat closes up and her vision clouds with tears. The phone slips from her hands, and her entire teenage world crumbles around her. This was so much worse than she'd imagined. She'd hoped her father only gave him a mild warning, but threatening to have Killian shipped off to boot camp? And she hadn't expected Killian to heed his warning. After all that talk of promises and the jokes about being future husband and wife and Killian telling her she didn't have to change for anyone, that she's perfect the way she is. After all that, he's willing to give up everything he could've had with Emma before it even began.
To think, she was willing to go against her father's wishes so she could be with Killian! She even thought about giving her whole flower to him! She can't believe she trusted him.
Emma is filled with sadness and anger as she picks up her phone and rereads his last text. She types something with trembling fingers and holds her breath as she sends it off to Killian.
Emma: Yeah, I understand perfectly.
She immediately pulls up his number to delete him from her contacts, but as her thumb hovers over the delete option, she can't do it. She wants a reminder of what a jerk he is when she needs it. Instead, she changes his contact name to Arsehole, as he would say in his stupid British accent. She plugs her phone into its charger and says her evening prayers before slipping into bed. She curls up, tears streaming down her cheeks as she twists the gold band around her finger. Perhaps this is the real reason why purity rings exist. To prevent young girls from giving away their virtue to some undeserving jerk just to get her heart stomped on.
Emma sniffles, wipes her tears with her hands and turns to her other side, trying to fall asleep. Her feelings are hurt, but it's not as bad as it could've been. It's better to get her feelings hurt now than to have her heart get broken later on.
True love waits after all...