Chapter 11 - Sacrifice

Emma was woken up by a soft purr in the vicinity of her feet. She smiled with her eyes still closed, stretching her legs until her toes brushed against a solid object. The volume of the purring increased and she chuckled when she opened her eyes slowly to find the kitten curled up at the end of the bed.

"Good morning, Rocket."

Upon hearing her voice the kitten stood up and stalked towards her, planting his small butt right beside one of her hands. She knew what he wanted her to do, even before Rocket bend forward and pushed his nose repeatedly against her fingers. He was such a cuddler.

"Okay, okay."

She pushed herself up and scooped Rocket into her arms, stroking her hand over his back, smiling when he started to purr again. For a minute she just enjoyed threading her fingers through Rocket's soft fur, postponing getting up as long as possible.

The sound of cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen told her that her solitude would be interrupted any second now. Deciding to wait until Henry came into the room to tell her she needed to get up because he was hungry, she closed her eyes, letting herself relax. It took only a few minutes before she heard footsteps in the hallway and opened her eyes again.

Henry burst into her room with a cup in his hand, the dark liquid almost spilling over the rim as he rushed towards her. The scent of coffee reached her and she let out a contented sigh.

"Mom, I'm late."

"It's not Mother's Day, is it?" she asked when Henry put the mug down on the nightstand. Normally he only brought her coffee in bed on special occasions or when he'd been up to something. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, checking his body over for any obvious injuries. She didn't find any, though that didn't mean there weren't any hidden under his clothes. "What did you do?"

Henry rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. "Nothing. But you didn't wake up in time."

"Do we have to be somewhere?"

"No, you don't have to be anywhere. Hence the coffee in bed." She furrowed her brow, totally at a loss. Her brain just wasn't capable of following her son's thoughts without caffeine coursing through her system. Henry huffed out an annoyed breath and said, "It's Sunday."

It still took her a few seconds to realize what her son was trying to tell her. "Ah, chess day."

"Yep, and I'm late." He was already out of the door before she could say anything else.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" she yelled after him, already prepared to get up and make him some.

"Yes, sir," the muffled reply came from the kitchen and she opened her mouth to call him back to scold him for his sarcastic tone when the sound of the front door closing made it a moot point.

Leaning back against the pillow, she decided to take advantage of the fact that she didn't need to get up to have her first cup of coffee and spend a few more relaxed minutes in bed. Tightening her hand around Rocket's fur to keep him in place, she leaned sideways to reach for the mug.

She almost groaned when she took her first sip. Her son could make quite a good cup of coffee. She could definitely get used to that. Maybe she could convince Henry to make breakfast every Sunday from now on. She chortled as she imagined how that conversation would go. She could almost see the incredulous expression on Henry's face when she closed her eyes.

Taking another sip, she stretched again languidly, smiling broadly when her body ached in all the right places. God, the sex marathon last night at the station had been so worth not having enough sleep. She wondered if Killian looked as sleep-deprived as she probably did. She didn't envy him having to deal with her energetic son for a few hours, though she knew he wouldn't mind.

Putting the cup back on the nightstand, she lay back down, contemplating closing her eyes for another round of sleep. As she turned her head on the pillow she imagined Killian lying beside her. She would love to have him wake up beside her, seeing his sleep-rumpled self every morning. Or seeing him walking into the room with a cup of coffee for her in hand, clad in just his low-hanging sweatpants, the ones she could rid him off with just a tug. He would crawl into bed with her and disappear under the sheet, settling himself between her legs and giving her one of those toe-curling orgasms he was so good in delivering with only his fingers and mouth. And then he would lay down beside her, letting her wrap her hand around his hard cock and she would pump him until he couldn't take it any longer and roll on top of her and take her with deep, hard thrusts until she fell over the edge another time. Afterwards they would cuddle together, maybe catch a few more hours of sleep before they needed to get up. They would make breakfast together, teasing Henry when he joined them with his usual grumbly teenage morning self. They would sit down together, make plans for the day and…she jolted up from her slouched state against the pillow, ignoring Rocket's mad dash from the bed and his annoyed meow.

"Fuck," she whispered, dropping back against the headboard. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

She'd gone and done it. The unthinkable. Something she'd told herself over and over again not to do. She shouldn't have these kind of thoughts about Killian. Thoughts of him living with them. Having him by her side all the time.

God, she was such a fool.

She'd gone and fallen in love with him. She was in love with a priest.

Her stomach revolted, a wave of nausea washing over her. She gulped hard, pressing her hand against her stomach in the hopes of keeping the coffee down. A few more gulps and her stomach settled again, but her mind was still reeling.

This couldn't happen. It was just supposed to be about sex, about getting the insane physical attraction they felt out of their systems. They should have known better. That might have worked at the beginning, but not after they'd actually become good friends. Why had she let it get that far?

Taking in a shuddering breath, she tried to calm herself down. But her thoughts just kept on spinning. Was it really that bad? Maybe they could have a future together. For a few seconds she let herself hope for a good outcome, but then reality intruded and smacked her right in the face.

He was a priest. He wasn't allowed to be with a woman. She had known that from the start, knew they could never have more than an affair. An affair that had run its course. Her hands started to tremble when she realized what she had to do. She wouldn't make him choose. It wasn't fair. So she would make the choice for him.

She would end it. For good.

She pressed her eyes closed as her determination wavered for a moment and tears sprang into her eyes. She gulped hard once. Twice. Until she had herself under control.

If she ignored her heart breaking into a million pieces inside her chest.

The church was unusually quiet for this time of the day, but not that unexpected considering that Christmas was only a week away. Everything got more hectic in those last days. People didn't have time to sit down and just breathe. Killian remembered the times he'd been the same before he'd taken the cloth. Now he used the time before Christmas to quiet down the noise, deliberately swim against the tide, so to speak. The first Christmas as a priest he'd still been a mess, and forcing himself to sit down and just be had helped a lot. This time of the year he always felt the closest to God and the Savior, remembered why he became a priest in the first place.

But of course this year was a little different. Because of Emma. The last weeks had been a whirlwind ever since they'd started sleeping together again. He hadn't come up for air since then. He didn't want to. Now that he actually had time to think, though, he couldn't keep his mind from looking at what they were doing very closely. Leaning back and really listening into himself, hearing what his heart was telling him.

He loved her. Really, truly loved her. He didn't know when exactly it had happened. But it did. His heart belonged to her. The question now was what he was supposed to do about it.

Faith had saved his life when he was close to giving up on everything, to let himself just waste away. Becoming a priest had given him a new purpose. He wasn't sure if turning his back on it now wouldn't push him back into the darkness he'd pulled himself out of. On the other hand, ever since he'd met Emma she'd been a new beacon of light in his life. Making his life shine bright with promise. Especially after he'd given up fighting his feelings for her.

But could he give it all up for her? For love? Fully risk his heart again without knowing what the future held for him? For them?

He thought he could. Their love might be strong enough. But he was getting ahead of himself here. He didn't really know if she felt the same way. It was time to have a real conversation. It was time for them to talk.

As if his mind had conjured her up the door of the church creaked open and Emma stepped in. He couldn't help grinning like a loon as she walked towards him, but when the lights fell on her face and he could see her clearly the grin dropped from his face in the blink of an eye.

"We need to talk," she told him in a determined voice, her whole posture stiff with tension.

Killian couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a serious expression on her face, and his stomach tightened with dread. Something was wrong.

"Aye, we do," he replied softly, closing his hand around her forearm and pulling her gently down the aisle. "Let's take this to my office."

With every step his heart grew heavier, his brain telling him something his heart didn't want to hear. This was bad, definitely not the talk he'd imagined having with her just a few minutes ago. When the door to his office fell shut behind them, the sound made him almost jump out of his skin. He wasn't prepared for this. He didn't think...

"This isn't working for me anymore," her harsh voice whipped through the office, and he cringed. He took in a deep breath and straightened his shoulders before he faced her. He didn't know what he expected to see, but he definitely wasn't expecting the cold blazing out of her eyes. Only a few hours ago he'd come deep inside of her as she cried out his name, her walls clamping tight around him. What had happened in between? He didn't have a clue. He opened his mouth to ask her, but she didn't let him get a word in, her voice ice cold as she said, "Don't get me wrong. It was awesome while it lasted. But all good things have to come to an end. And this is it."

"I see," he pressed out past the lump in his throat. He wanted to say more but he could see she'd made up her mind, and he wouldn't profess his love to her now after she'd just kicked him to the curb without even a hint of regret. Maybe he should have been relieved that he didn't need to make the hard decision after all, but instead the loss of all the things they could have had together was a blow that left him reeling. His heart hurt in his chest as he tried to not let her see how deep her words had devastated him. He managed to force his mouth into a smile that hopefully looked real, his voice thankfully not wavering as he said, "You're right. We both knew it had to end eventually."

"Exactly," she replied in a clipped tone, but then her features suddenly softened, a glimpse of an emotion Killian couldn't decipher flashing over her eyes. "Take care of yourself, Killian."

She leaned up and pressed a brief kiss against his cheek, the chaste touch of her lips nearly breaking him. He balled his hand into a fist to keep himself from grabbing her and hauling her into his arms, from spilling out what he was feeling for her.

"You, too."

A moment later she was gone. Truly gone. And all he could do was fall into the chair behind his desk and bury his face in his hand, giving up the fight to hold back the tears and just let them stream down his face as he cried for a love that never got the chance to bloom.

Emma left the church through the side entrance, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. Her body started to shake uncontrollably, the iron control she had on her emotions cracking apart like the ice on a frozen lake in spring. But she needed to hold it together for a little longer, just for a few more minutes. Miraculously, she managed to stay strong all the way to her car and across town. She didn't let herself even shed one tear until she could stop at the side of the road. Jumping out, she practically ran towards the cabin, asking herself on the way why she'd come here of all places. It was a mystery to her. Apparently she really had a huge masochistic side.

Her hands were damp with perspiration as she fumbled with the keys, cursing loudly when it took her seemingly forever to fit the key in the lock and open the door. The moment the door closed behind her she just slid to the ground, her feet giving out under her. Pulling her legs towards her, she buried her face against her knees and let herself fall apart. She cried until she didn't have any tears left, until her nose was clogged, her throat raw and her eyes almost swollen shut.

Her breaths were still uneven as she tried to pull herself together again, knowing that she only had about an hour before she needed to go back and face her new reality. A reality without Killian. She pressed her hand against her chest, her fingers curling around the locket he had given her, the metal digging hard into her skin. She didn't know how long it would take for the hurt to fade. The way she'd decided to end it with Killian assured that she destroyed their friendship, too. It seemed to be the right decision. The only decision she could make. But now all she could feel was bone-deep anguish about the loss.

A sob started deep in her throat but she gulped it down again, tightening her fingers around the locket, holding onto the only thing she had left of him. It shouldn't hurt this much. She'd told herself over and over again that she couldn't let herself fall for the priest. She knew from the beginning that they couldn't have a relationship. That an affair was all they could have. Even if calling what they had together an affair felt so, so wrong. It was good that she ended it. He was a priest, and he wanted to stay a priest. And if she was honest with herself, she didn't really want him to choose her. She was too afraid of him resenting her later if he gave up the priesthood for her. Maybe not in a month or even a year, but sometime down the road he would have questioned his choice. It was better to put an end to it before the feelings ran too deep.

Even if her brain told her she'd made the right decision, her heart was bleeding. The time with him had been perfect. Amazing sex paired with hours-long conversations about everything and nothing. And there'd been a lot of laughter. She'd been so happy with him, despite the dark shadow the illicitness of their affair always cast lingering somewhere in the deepest recesses of her mind.

But it was over now. And she had to live with that. Even if right now the thought of never being in his arms again, of never talking to him for hours again, of never laughing with him again threatened to tear her apart. But life had to go on, it always did. It didn't stop just because she didn't know how to get up and put on a brave face. But she had to. She needed to hide all her feelings behind an impenetrable mask. No one could know why she felt so utterly devastated.

Maybe that was for the best. Maybe if she looked at everything she'd had with Killian as just a dream, a fantasy she'd been living in for a few weeks, the healing process would start sooner.

Emma was totally exhausted when she finally made her way back to town an hour later. The hurt seemed to be a physical thing, weighing her whole body down. As she walked up to their apartment complex she saw someone sitting on the steps. She didn't pay them much attention first, but then they stood up and walked towards her. It took her only a few seconds to recognize who it was and she stumbled, just catching herself before she face-planted.

It couldn't be. He couldn't be here. It wasn't possible. Hadn't her day been hard enough already? Maybe there was really a God, one who was punishing her for having the audacity to seduce a priest.

Her thoughts spiraled out of control as she watched the man come closer until he stopped a few feet in front of her. He hadn't changed much since the last time she saw him. Even the smile that curled his mouth upwards was as crooked and boyish.

"Hello, Emma."

She blinked once, twice, and even a third time just to make sure she didn't imagine the man standing in front of her. But no, he was real.

After almost thirteen years Neal Cassidy had stepped back into her life.