Author's Note: So it's Sunday and I'm back to my regular updating schedule, yay! I didn't get nearly as many reviews as usual on the last chapter, but I'm hoping that will change with this chapter - any type of feedback is better than no feedback, guys! Please do leave me a review and let me know what you thought. It makes it much easier for me to write, as knowing your reaction to the last chapter really is a great help.

As usual, I don't own or have anything to do with Skins.

Chapter 8: Believer

July 5th, 2013

"Who wants to PARTY?" Cook yelled as he let himself into our apartment. Libby barked her head off and ran towards him, jumping all over his legs. Cook laughed and ran around the apartment while Libby chased him with her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth, occasionally biting at his ankles excitedly. Libby loved Cook. Emily and I were considerably low-key, so Libby loved anybody who was crazy and loud and exciting.

Emily walked out of the bedroom, looking absolutely stunning in black jeans, pumps, and a loose coral sleeveless shirt. Underneath she wore a black crop top, which you could only see when the light would hit it a certain way. Her engagement ring and wedding band accented her hand perfectly, and were the only jewelry Emily had decided to wear that night.

"I just want everybody to know I'm married and that you're mine," Emily had said as she slid her engagement ring on her finger while we were getting ready. She grabbed my engagement ring and slipped it onto my finger as well. Normally, we only wore our wedding bands for day-to-day things and saved our engagement rings for special occasions only. "We should really start wearing these every day, don't you think, darling?"

I looked down at the rings on our fingers. Mine was a simple thin gold band, with a two carat diamond. Emily's was a white gold band with diamonds around the outside, a sapphire centre with diamonds around that as well. The rings suited both of us so well – simple and timeless and yet uniquely our own.

"I think we should, too," I replied, moving my hand to let the diamond catch the light. "They're both such gorgeous rings it's a shame not to wear them all the time."

Emily smiled and nodded and put her hand around my stomach. "Hopefully your fingers won't swell up too much when you're pregnant, so you can still wear your rings."

"Ready to go?" Emily asked, waking me from my day dream and reminding me that Cook was in the room. She walked over to me and dropped a loving kiss on my bare shoulder, revealed by my strapless top.

"Come on, lezzers, the Cookie Monster doesn't want to wait all day," Cook said as Libby ran around him in circles. Emily grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the door.

I crouched down in front of Libby, who was now stoic and whining since she realized that we were going out. "Libby, be a good girl and don't let any burglars in," I said as I pulled her over to me and kissed the top of her head.

"And don't set the house on fire," Emily added jokingly as she grabbed the keys and ushered me out of the door.

We hailed a taxi to take us to the club, and when we arrived the place was absolutely packed. There wasn't a single inch of free space within the entire club. The room was consumed with drinkers and dancers. Loud house music filled the room and vibrated the floors. Cook smiled as soon as we got in, breathing the scent of alcohol and sweat in as though it was his favourite smell in the world. Emily scrunched up her face and buried her head into my neck so she wouldn't have to breathe it in. I smiled a bit at that – we'd both turned into such homebodies since we got married. Being out in a club was very different for the both of us, and I have to admit, reluctantly, that I sort of missed being at home.

Normally Emily and I would spend our Friday nights ordering a take away, watching a movie, and making love. It was how we liked to unwind from our work week. Before I met Emily, I used to unwind from my work week by going out with Cook and getting absolutely trashed. But Emily changed me, probably for the better, and I wasn't sure that I belonged in this place anymore. It was a bit like visiting the home you grew up in – you realize that everything about the house is the same, but you no longer belong there, you don't fit there. And the even scarier thought is not that the house has changed, but that you have changed enough to feel as though you don't belong in a place that you once felt comfortable in. You changed without even realizing it.

It was a scary and unusual feeling for me to be experiencing in the middle of the club, but as I looked at Emily who was wearily glancing around us at the throbbing mass of dancing bodies in the middle of the club, I knew she was experiencing the same feeling. Emily looked up at me with her big brown eyes, looking scared and overwhelmed.

"I miss home," She whispered in my ear, placing a kiss on my neck gently. I nodded at her and shrugged.

"We're here now," I said as we walked slowly over to the bar. "Might as well make the most of it."

Emily got pushed away from me on our way to the bar, so she grabbed onto the belt loop of my jeans and followed me. Cook was tugging me along towards the bar, much like Libby did when I would take her for a walk.

"First round's on me, ladies!" Cook said as we finally got to the bar. He tried to get the bartenders attention, but the big muscly man was far too busy impressing lots of hot women.

"Cook, get out the way," Emily whispered as she pushed Cook away from the bar. She grabbed my ass and pushed us both forward so we were standing right against the countertop. Emily looked down at her breasts and pushed them up, making her cleavage quite impressive (not that it wasn't already). Emily looked at me and quirked her eyebrow before looking down at my own breasts. I got the hint and did the same. Emily cleared her throat to try to get the bartender's attention, and I dutifully played my part by wrapping my arms around Emily's waist and basically draping myself all over her.

"Excuse me," Emily called, making her voice sound more husky than usual. The bartender practically dropped the bottle of vodka he was pouring shots from and he hastily made his way over to us.

"What can I get for you ladies?" He replied, eying us up and down suggestively. I had to hold back a gag.

"Twelve shots of tequila please," Emily said with a sly smile as she started playing with the hem of my top, lifting it up slightly and revealing a bit of my stomach and my hip. The bartender poured our shots and charged us half price for them.

Emily walked away from the bar triumphantly, carrying the tray of shots towards the table that Cook had found. "It's nice to know I can still get cheap drinks," Emily said as she handed out four shots to each of us. "And it's also nice to know that Cook can still manage to get out of paying for drinks at all."

Cook humphed and said that he'd get the next round. Emily shook her head as she took her first shot, closely followed by her second, third, and final shot.

"Jeez, Em, take it easy," I said, my shot glass still sat in front of me on the table. Emily shrugged and handed me a salt shaker and lime slices. She grabbed my wrist and licked it, sending goosebumps up my arm and all over my chest. She grabbed the salt shaker and coated the area she licked with salt.

"Bottoms up, sexy," she whispered seductively in my ear.

I licked the salt off my wrist, took my shot of tequila, and quickly bit into the lime Emily put between my teeth. I shivered as she leaned into my neck and started kissing and licking the sensitive skin there. The shots she'd done had obviously already taken effect – Drunk Emily was also known as Horny-As-Fuck Emily.

I finished off the rest of my shots, which was quite miraculous considering Emily had continued to kiss my neck the whole time. As soon as I put my last shot glass down, Emily grabbed my hand and dragged me to the dance floor. For somebody who didn't want to be here 30 minutes ago, it seemed as though she certainly wanted to be here now.

Cook was already off dancing with a girl who looked as though she rolled around in a bag of doritos and forgot to put any proper clothes on. Emily pulled me straight into the centre of the dance floor where the beat was surging right through us. I pulled her into me, her back against my chest, and we danced together for what seemed like hours while our buzz lasted. Cook came over to dance with us a few times, claiming he had to get away from all the women who wanted to shag him so he could stay STD-free for our inseminations. Needless to say, that thought sobered all of us up pretty quickly and we ended up leaving the club after only two hours.

We hailed another cab and went back to our apartment and were home by 12:15.

"What a waste of a night," Cook said as we unlocked the front door. Libby ran over to us and barked and yapped and bit Cook's toes in her excitement.

"I feel old," Emily said as she took her shoes off and placed them in the closet. "My back aches from all that dancing and I have a headache from those tequila shots."

"I fucking hate tequila," I mumbled as I walked over to the couch with Cook. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we sat down next to each other, both putting our feet up on the coffee table and sighing in relief.

"It's no fun going out if you can't shag anyone," Cook pouted. Emily went into the kitchen to make us some tea and Cook turned on the TV to watch crappy late-night shows. Libby jumped on me and winded me, a tennis ball in her mouth as she panted with excitement. I half-heartedly threw the ball for her and apparently did such a bad job that Libby just gave me a displeased look before completely ignoring the tennis ball and walking into the kitchen to bother Emily.

"You've really got it sorted out, haven't you, Naoms?" Cook whispered. I hadn't noticed that he'd been staring at me while I absentmindedly played with my wedding band and engagement ring. "Like, a proper family and that."

I smiled and shrugged. "You're part of my family, Cookie," I said as I snuggled into his side and kissed his cheek. He sighed heavily and drew patterns on my shoulder as we watched crappy TV. Emily brought over our cups of tea and sat down next to me. She leaned into me gently, and kissed the top of my arm before sighing.

"I'm going to go and get ready for bed," she said quietly, kissing me on the lips before wandering into our bedroom and shutting the door. I stared after her, wondering what had changed so suddenly, wondering why she seemed to be so sad.

I felt helpless. Something about Emily was off and out of place and I wondered what had happened to the free and spontaneous woman that was kissing me and dancing with me in the club. As soon as we came home, she completely shifted and turned into the Emily that didn't talk to me about things, didn't want to make love to me anymore and only touched me when she had to. I knew she was stressed out about a lot of things and I knew her life was changing right before her eyes, but I felt the same way she felt. I just wanted to go into that bedroom and ask her what was wrong and talk things through, but something held me back. Something was telling me that this was bigger than a fear about having children, or stress at work, or even stress within our own relationship. Emily was slowly retreating back to the woman who kept secrets from me, and didn't tell me about her rape or her fears about being a good parent after she'd been forced to have an abortion.

I was too scared to speak to my own wife because I was too afraid of what she could be hiding this time.

So I slept next to Cook on the couch and cried into his shirt. Cook woke up and comforted me and didn't ask any questions. Cook was easy. He knew me, inside and out. He didn't try to keep secrets from me. He was willing to give up his lifestyle to give Emily and I the family we so desperately wanted. He had always been there for me, even when Effy and Freddie were in their mess of a relationship and my best friend had deserted me for a while. Cook was there. Cook would always love me. Cook would never leave me.

So when Cook kissed me while he was comforting me in a completely natural reflex reaction, I didn't feel nervous or worried about what that meant. I knew it was just Cook doing what he felt was natural in that situation, the same way you would kiss a child's scrape after they'd fallen down. He didn't say a word after it happened, and he didn't tense up and I didn't either.

It didn't mean anything.

Check out my tumblr page: keeping-schtum (dot) tumblr (dot) com

And please, please, don't forget to leave a review!