A/N: This chapter is rated M

-13-

"But what if I don't want it to be over," Emma whispered. Last night and today had been an eye opener for her; she realized what a bitch she had been to him and she really was truly sorry. She was also not ready for it to be over. She wanted him and her kids to just go back to the way things were; she didn't want to watch her children break down and cry because they were frustrated that mom and dad couldn't get along anymore.

Punk shrugged his shoulders. "Guess you should have thought that before you cheated on me, babe," he said shortly as he moved away from her and looked for his shoes. He didn't mean to be a prick to her right now when she asked what happened if she didn't want it to be over; he just had to be honest with her. He loved her, and was always going to love her, but he had to be real about what would happen if Jenna really did turn out to be Scott's. He quickly decided to change the subject. "Have you eaten anything today?" he asked as he put his shoes on and sat down next to her on the bed again. She shook her head. "Why not?" he asked.

"It never ceases to amaze me, Phil, that you can think about food no matter what's going on around you."

"I'm a guy. And I'm hungry. Do you wanna cook me something or should we go out?"

"Are you just assuming that I want to go somewhere with you or that I would make something for you?" she asked, curious that after everything that happened today, he could just act like everything was fine.

"Listen, I know that we've been through a lot of shit this weekend, but, come on. The kids are gone for the night, I'm hungry and you should eat something. Don't pick right now to difficult, Em. You've been tolerable all day long, I like this Emma, I like this agreeable Emma who doesn't turn into a bitch at the drop of a hat, please don't start now," he warned before he stood up and walked out of the room and headed downstairs, sure that she would follow him after a few minutes.

Emma went into the bathroom; she had to fix her hair and maybe put some make-up on before she even thought of leaving the house with him. She didn't like what she saw when she looked in the mirror; she looked tired,, she hadn't slept more than five hours this entire weekend; her normally bright blue eyes were bloodshot from all of the tears she had cried today. Her long brown hair was still pulled up into a messy ponytail. She was so engrossed in watching her own reflection, that she didn't notice that Punk had come back upstairs and had been watching her from the doorway of the bathroom. She didn't know that he had been watching her until she saw his reflection in the mirror as he stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her slender waist. He pulled her hair out of ponytail and let it hang down to her shoulders before he moved it away from her neck and started to leave soft kisses on the right side, while she watched him in the mirror.

His hands moved from her waist to the hem of the t-shirt she was wearing, lifting slowly, he slid his hands underneath the shirt and started rubbing her breasts through her bra, paying extra attention to her nipples, which were hardening under his touch. "Punk..." she whispered; he stopped kissing her neck long enough to meet her eyes in the mirror, before he smirked and continued his neck kissing. He stopped touching and teasing her breasts long enough to pull her t-shirt up over her had and discard it on the bathroom floor. He watched her eyes start to glaze over with desire for him as she watched him slowly slide the straps of her black bra off her shoulders, kissing the exposed skin as he went. He unhooked her bra and let her breasts free. Each of his thumbs started to play with her painfully erect nipples as she leaned back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Punk," she whispered again as his hands moved from her breasts and trailed down to her stomach, briefly resting on the waistband of her jeans before he slowly unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down at an excruciating pace. He stopped nibbling on her ear lobe long enough to glance in the mirror to see the look on her face as he started to move her jeans off of her hips and down her legs. She stepped out of them, leaving her in just her black panties.

She guided his hands down to the top of her panties and gave a gentle encouraging push for his hands to slip inside. He obliged and held onto her hand as his fingers started moving towards her center. Her breath caught as she felt his thumb slide over her clit, causing her to tremble against him. "Punk," she whispered again as she watched him in the mirror; kissing her neck while he slipped two fingers inside her. She let out a soft moan as he two fingers explored her inside and his thumb kept brushing over her clit. She kept his hand on top of his, encouraging him to continue to finger her. If he kept this up, she was going to lose it fast; he had always had that affect on her. His other hand started to slide her panties down her legs. She quickly stepped out of them. She watched herself in the mirror while he pleasured her with just his fingers. She wanted him; her body was on fire with desire for him right now. Very slowly he took his fingers out of her and rubbed her juices on her nipples as he turned around captured a wet nipple in his mouth and sucked her own juices off of it. He raised his head pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing slow and even compared to hers. Very gently, he pressed his lips to hers, while he held her in place by her hips; not that she was going to run away from him right now. She was so turned on by him. He broke the kiss and his hazel eyes met her blue eyes. Her hands moved down from his shoulders to the bottom of his sweatshirt, with shaky hands, she lifted it over his head and tossed it on the floor. She ran her hands down his smooth chest, mindlessly tracing her fingers over his tattoos until her hands ran down his stomach and started to unbutton his jeans while he watched her. No words had been spoken since she whispered he name a few minutes ago; there were no words for what was about to happen. He discarded his jeans, leaving him in just his boxer shorts, his erect member waiting to be freed from his boxers. She slid his shorts off of him and there they stood; both filled with desire and passion.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed down; she knew what he wanted. With a wicked smile she got down on her knees and stroked his cock a few times before she took it all in her mouth. He finally let out a groan as he felt his cock hit the back of her throat. He played with her hair while her warm mouth moved up and down his cock, taking him all in, filling him with pleasure. After a few minutes of the greatest pleasure ever known to man, he had to make her stop or he was going to blow right there. "Stand up," he whispered. She stood up and he leaned down to kiss her, his lip ring digging into her lip as his tongue wrestled with hers. Very abruptly he turned her around so she was facing the sink again. Their eyes met in the mirror and he smirked at her swollen lips and glazed over eyes. It was time.

Running his hands down her smooth back, he traced the butterfly tattoo on the small of her back before he ran his hands over her ass. Without warning, he pushed himself in, receiving a moan of instant pleasure from his wife as he started moving in and out with perfect rhythm. He held on to her hips and made her move with him...

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"Damn it, Emmy Sue," he growled in his ear as he pulled back on her hair, making her look at herself in the mirror while he fucked her. He was so close, he was going to lose it. With a hard bite to her shoulder, he thrust into her one last time before he shuddered against her back. He placed soft kisses on her damp skin; he had given her quite the workout. He could hear her breathing hard as she tightened around him, finally getting her release as well. "I love you so fucking much," he murmured into her back. He finally pulled out and spun her around, pulling her close to his chest while he picked her up and set her on the vanity; she immediately snuggled up to his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist while he rested his chin on top of her head. Time seemed to stand still while Emma and Punk held onto each other for dear life.

A few minutes went by before Emma felt the need for a shower. She gently pushed Punk away and hopped off the vanity only to take his hand and lead him over to the shower. He wasn't getting away from her anytime soon...

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An hour later, they were sitting in a pizza place near their house. The placed was packed for a Sunday night so all that was available was a small booth towards the back of the restaurant. It was actually perfect for them. For the time being it seemed that the couple had forgotten about all of their problems and were focusing on enjoying each others company like they used to. Punk was listening with his full attention as Emma recapped the parent teacher conference she recently had with Jack's third grade teacher. According to his teacher, he was a smart boy who was quiet at times, but wasn't afraid to stick up for other kids who might be getting picked on. He really seemed like he enjoyed all of his classes and was 'a joy to have in the classroom'. "Sounds like we raised a good kid, huh, Em?" Punk said with a smile as he took a drink of his Pepsi.

She nodded and softly said, "Yeah, we did. All of our kids are good," she looked down at her hands. She wasn't sure how he felt about Jenna right now knowing there was a good possibility that she wasn't his biological child.

"That they are. What's the matter?" he asked as he noticed her avoiding eye contact with him again.

"I...I don't know. I don't know how many times I can apologize for what happened with Jenna-"

"Em, let's just get her tested again or at least ask Scott to see the test results. I'm sure he kept them."

"What if he did keep them and he was right? What if he really is Jenna's dad?" she asked as her voice broke as she tried to hold back the sob that was rising in her throat.

"Let's get something straight," he said sternly. "He might be Jenna's biological father, but I am her daddy. I'm the one that was there with you when she was born. I was there staying up all night with you and her when she was sick. I watched her take her first steps. I'm the one she calls daddy. She's my little girl, not Scott's. Nothing is going to change that, Emma."

"What about us?" she whispered.

"I love you," he said simply as his hazel eyes took her all in; she was still the girl he had fallen in love with ten years ago. She was still the girl who tried like hell to learn how to cook during their first year of marriage and failed miserably. She was still the girl who believed in his dream and pushed him to be the greatest in the world. "I know what you're asking though; and all I can really say is that we're going to have to cross that road when we get there," he said as he covered her hand with his and gave her a small smile.

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The walk back to the house was quiet. Punk was surprised when Emma actually took his hand and held it for the six block walk home. It was getting late, almost ten o'clock, when they finally stood on the front steps, staring awkwardly at each other. "Do you want to come in?" she finally whispered as she bit her bottom lip and made herself look at him.

"Maybe. Are you just going to kick me out after about a half an hour or so? That's what happened the last time you asked me to spend the night."

"Who said I was asking you to spend the night?" she teased as she winked at him.

"Your eyes did, baby," he whispered as he leaned down to capture her mouth in a kiss. He kept wondering when he was going to wake up from this dream; because right now, his wife was acting like the girl he had married eight years ago instead of the raging bitch she had been for the past seven months.

"Well...Ok," she mumbled as she unlocked the front door and he followed her inside. He smiled as he watched her from behind; maybe this weekend was their turning point. Things couldn't get much worse; they had to start looking up at some point.