-8-
"Really? This isn't one of your stupid mind games, Em?" Punk asked warily. He was nervous that she had actually said that she would like him to stay the night. He wondered if she had something else up her sleeve. He was actually glad that she said he could stay; he still hadn't been to bed yet and wasn't sure if he would be able to make the drive across town to his shitty apartment.
"No games. Just stay," she whispered as she looked down at her hands. She wasn't sure what was possessing her to ask him to stay; maybe the lonely nights alone without him were finally catching up with her, maybe she just wanted to feel his strong arms around her one more time before they finalized everything. Maybe she just didn't really know what she wanted. He was right; she was difficult.
Punk moved closer to her on the couch. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong? I think I deserve to know why we're doing this instead of me just blindly accepting the fact you don't love me anymore." Emma hung her head down and wiped some fallen tears from her face. "You do still love me, don't you, Em?" he asked softly as he pulled her closer to him and she rested her head on his chest.
"I don't want to talk about it right now. I want to sleep," she whispered as she untangled herself from Punk's arms and the comforter and started to head upstairs.
"Emma. I need to hear it. I need to hear that you still love me."
She sighed and stopped on the second step. "Phil, it's late and we're both tired. Can't you just take this for what it's worth right now? Come to bed," she said as she started back up the stairs.
Phil locked the front and back doors and shut the lights off downstairs before he headed upstairs. He wondered if she had thrown all his clothes out? Hopefully she left something in his dresser for him to sleep in tonight or to wear tomorrow morning.
He peeked into each of the kids' rooms before heading down the hall to the one he used to share with Emma. He smiled a little as he saw Jenna snuggled up with her penguin; she loved that damn thing. Uncle Scott had bought it for her when she turned one and she never lets it out of her sight. His boys were sound asleep too. He silently walked into Josh's room and covered the boy back up with his Cars blanket. He felt horrible for having to witness Josh's meltdown in the kitchen today. What him and Emma were putting the kids through wasn't right and he intended to try everything he could to make it right with Emma before she gave up for good.
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Emma had just changed into a pair of shorts, that left little to the imagination, and a black tank top when Punk came into the bedroom. A smile broke out onto his face when he saw that she had laid a pair of his pajama pants and a t-shirt of his on the bed. He was mildly surprised that she hadn't thrown all of his clothes out. She gave him a little smile and mumbled 'hey' when he came into the bedroom before she crawled into bed and pulled the blanket over her. She watched her estranged husband change out of his jeans and t-shirt into his pajamas. It amazed her that even after ten years together, three kids, and a pending divorce, that she still wanted him—meaning she still lusted after him. Maybe she should give this another try. Would he still want her though, if he knew the truth?
He crawled into bed with her, bending down to kiss her gently on the lips before he leaned over her and turned off the bedside lamp. In the dark, he smiled when he felt her hands on the small of his back, pulling him down for another kiss. He gladly obliged as he covered her mouth with his and fingered the strap of her tank top absentmindedly. He broke the kiss and whispered in her ear, "Emmy...My Emmy Sue..." before he started nibbling on her ear lobe, which made her let out a contented sigh and she started running her fingers through his short hair.
As the impromptu make-out session started to heat up as Punk's hands started to wander to the hem of her tank top. He paused long enough to give Emma the chance to put a stop to this. He was a little surprised when she actually did just that. "Phil, we should stop..." she mumbled into his neck.
"I don't wanna..." he mumbled back into her ear before moving his mouth down her neck.
She started to push him away. For a split second he was frustrated and was about to lay into her about being a tease, but then he saw the look on her face. He knew that look. "What's wrong," he asked as he moved away from her, taking her hand with him. "Talk to me, Em."
"Phil..." she started, but then stopped. "Why are we doing this?" she finally whispered.
"Why are we do what? Getting divorced?"
She nodded. "Do you know why I want a divorce?" she whispered.
He shook his head. "No, I've been trying to get you to tell me the reason reason for a long time, Em, and all I get from you is that 'you're done'. Whatever the hell that means. So tell me, Em. Enlighten me as to why you want to throw away ten years together, eight years of marriage, and three kids. Tell me," he said quietly, bracing himself to hear something horrible—like she had been cheating on him and one the kids wasn't his. That would kill him.
"I lost me," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. He just stared at her. What the hell did that mean?
"I don't understand. Please elaborate," he said as he moved around on the bed until he was sitting cross legged facing her. "How did you lose yourself?"
"Phil...I was only 19 when we got married; barely 19 mind you. And then Jack came along so quickly. I never had time to find...me," she finally said. "I've spent the last ten years supporting you in your dream anyway that I can; I've had three babies and stayed home with all of them. I kept that crappy apartment we had when we were first married spotless, then when we bought this house, I made it a home. I've spent at least five nights out of the week without you laying next to me. It just felt like...like all I was was just Punk's wife and that's all I was ever going to be," she finished as the words that she had been holding for so long finally came rushing out all at once. She was still looking down at the comforter, refusing to let her eyes meet his.
"What's wrong with being my wife?" he whispered. "Is it something I did?"
"No...It's just that I thought my life would have more meaning at 27 than it does right now...but that's not..." she stopped. She couldn't tell him the next part. There was more to Emma's drama than she wanted to let on; he was going to be pissed as hell when and if she told him the other reason she wanted to break up. He would threaten to take the kids from her and leave her with nothing.
"Emmy, what else happened," he asked cautiously. He knew her well enough to know that something else had happened. It wasn't just that she was feeling like her life had no meaning; there had to be something else.
She shook her head as tears fell down her cheeks. "Emma Sue. Tell me," he said with a little force in his voice as he lifted her chin up to look at him. "Tell me."
"I can't. You're going to hate me," she whispered. "I broke your trust. I broke our vows. Punk, I'm so sorry..." she whispered as she let out the sob that she was holding in. She called him Punk. She hasn't called him Punk in over a year.
"You called me Punk...Emmy, you do still love me, don't you?" he murmured as he tried to pull her closer to him, but stopped when it finally registered that she had said that she had broken his trust. "Emma Sue, tell me what happened? What do you mean you broke my trust?"
With tears running down her face, she took a deep breath and finally let out the secret that she had been holding in for the past three years."Jenna's not yours..." she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Then she waited. She waited for him to start screaming at her and throwing things. But instead he just moved away from her and sat down on the floor.
"Who," was all he said. Emma started crying harder when she thought about who Jenna's real father was. "Emma. Tell me who it was. Now."
Emma shook her head; she didn't want to tell him like this. She had wished a million times that it had never happened but it did. She tried so hard to push Phil away from her and the kids so that the break up and eventually the truth would be easier on him.
Suddenly he stood up and grabbed her by the wrist pushing her against the wall. Remembering to keep his temper in check, he leaned down by her ear and growled once more, "Who? Look me in the eyes and tell me who the fuck it was, Emma!"
Holding back a sob, she whispered. "Scott."
The look on Punk's face was a mixture of confusion, anger and shock. "Scott who?" he asked as he loosened the grip on her wrists. Surely, she couldn't mean-
"Colton."
Punk was silent for a few seconds while the name sank in. "You fucking bitch," he spat at her before he pushed her against the wall and started looking for his jeans. "I can't fucking believe you! How could you do this, Emma? He's my best friend! " he shouted.
"Phil, please. Keep your voice down, your going to wake the kids," Emma pleaded with him as she stayed against the wall; she knew it was the safest place right now.
"I don't give a fuck if I wake them up, Emma. They're eventually going to find out that their mom is a fucking whore! Why not tell them now?" he shouted at her as he pulled his shoes on and started towards her again.
"Tell me how it happened. I need to know," he said softly as he lifted her chin up so she was looking at him."
"Phil, I'm so sorry-"
He stopped her. "I don't want to hear how sorry you are right now. I need to hear how it happened and I need to know why it happened. If you want to have any chance of salvaging our relationship, you'll start talking. Now."
Emma slumped to the floor and sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest. This was her worst nightmare coming true. All of the thoughts of 'I should have said no' weren't going to change what her and Scott did.
"You know what. I changed my mind. Let's have lover boy come over here and tell the story. Scotty's always good for a story," he spat at her as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed his friend's number. It was close to one in the morning, but knowing Scott, Punk knew that his friend was still awake.
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"Yeah?" Scott said as his eyes were still glued to the movie that was playing. Beth looked at him, annoyed that he was actually answering his phone at one in the morning when he was supposed to be spending time with her.
"Scott. It's Punk. Hey, I need you to come over to the house."
Scott was confused. "The house? I thought you had the kids at your place this weekend."
Punk let out a chuckle. "Plans changed. I'm with Emma right now. And your daughter."
Scott felt his stomach drop to the floor. Punk knew. "Shit," he mumbled, trying to quickly figure out a way to cover his tracks.
"Yeah, oh shit is right. You better get over here now and explain to me why you were sleeping with my wife, before I come over there and beat the holy hell out of you." And with that, Punk hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed. He turned his attention to Emma, who was still on the floor silently crying, and just glared at her.
"My best friend. My fucking best friend. How could you fucking do this?" he said quietly as he looked at the floor.
"Phil, I'm so sorry..." she mumbled.
"Yeah, you are sorry," he said as he grabbed his phone and walked out of the room.
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"Who was that?" Beth asked, "And why are you freaking out?"
"That was Punk."
"Oh. Did him and the bitch have another fight?" She had never cared too much for Emma; she always thought that Punk could do better than her. But she had him trapped with three kids and she also had him wrapped around her little finger.
"No...Well, yeah I guess. Um. Punk found out about Jenna."
Beth's mouth dropped in shock; no one but Beth, Emma and Scott knew that Jenna was Scott's kid and not Punk's. "Holy shit."
"Yeah, holy shit is right. He wants me to come over there and explain why it happened," Scott said as he started pacing around his small living room. "He's gonna beat the shit out of me."
Beth nodded. "Yep, he sure is; what the hell are you going to do?"
"I don't know. I guess go over there and try to blame it all on Emma."
"But it wasn't all Emma's fault."
"I know that. You know that. She knows that. But Punk doesn't know that. She broke his trust; she had a baby with another man and didn't tell him until the kid was three years old. I think Emma is going to look worse than I am in this whole mess."
"I told you you were playing with fire when you started banging her," Beth said as she turned her attention back to the movie. "Maybe next time you'll listen to me."
Scott shot her a death glare before he grabbed his car keys and headed out the door. It was time to face the music.
