A/N: Sorry to say that this is the second-to-last chapter. But I think you all understand this story had to end one day or another anyway... ^^

16. Celebration

Emie was dumbfounded. Never had she wished any of this to ever happen, and yet here it was, staring at her straight in the face.

She was pregnant in an era where sleeping with someone off marriage was an affront. So she had to make it right by marrying someone.

No, she felt really really bad for another reason. She was painfully aware that Henry still loved her, and marrying him without reciprocating those feelings was like a treason.

But there again, she lied to herself.

She loved Henry. Just not quite in the same way.

The death of James had had her so completely dead inside that she knew the path to another love life would be the worst ever chosen.

"Emie!"

It was a month later. The wedding was scheduled for the following day, and Emie had been wearing her dress all morning for last rectifications. Her growing belly wasn't really easy to work with, especially when its bearer had cravings every ten minutes.

"Charlie!" She nearly jumped off the plot on which she had been standing and launched herself into the former Lieutenant's arms. "Oh, how happy I am to see you!"

He made her swirl in the air and then put her back down, eyeing her stomach with interested eyes. "So, is it giving you a hard time yet?"

She smiled. "No, he's not kicking or anything, it's too early I think. Or hope, in fact."

He chuckled lightly. "So, has Henry told you the big news?" She shook her head. "I'm going to be best man!"

Emie's eyes widened and then her smile followed. "Charlie, that's wonderful! I'm gonna kill Henry for not telling me!"

And it was true. She knew Henry had chosen Charlie, not because he was close to him, but because he was somehow a souvenir of what occurred and what might have been.

The two friends talked for hours, and the tailors were more than happy with Charlie's presence, since it kept Emie's attention focused onto something else than hunger.

After his shoulder wound, Charlie had been given his card, free to go back to the country and settle down for a bureau work. He was now working under the orders of a woman, and was very keen into being the most perfect at his task.

Said woman was his date for the wedding.

When Emie walked down the aisle gripping her boss' arm, she felt like a dream.

Her white fitting dress, all carved in lace and strapless, fell around her like a breath of wind, and her hair was tucked on her head, making her look like an angel.

Many whispered as she passed them, her swollen belly showing in her curves, and she smiled at them. Most were old ladies, come there to witness the wedding of strangers.

And then her blue eyes settled onto Henry.

He was wearing a grey tuxedo, a rose tucked at his pocket, an air of total happiness plastered onto his features, his grey eyes lighting with amazement when he saw his future wife approach.

Emie forgot most things when her hand found his. She forgot her state, forgot James, forgot the war. Anything but Henry's genuine happiness was clouded.

She allowed herself to smile.

A genuine smile.

They hadn't had time or money to host a big wedding party, but some people were still invited to a quick meal into Henry's and Emie's new home at the edge of town. If she walked ten minutes, Emie knew she'd find the sea, and she thought about her child running in the sand and writing its name into it.

Henry grabbed her hand and she focused back onto her guests. Charlie and Moira – his boss and date – were sitting in front of her and she found Moira really easy to talk to. Charlie had an air of innocence and gentleness on his face when he looked at her, and Emie thought that another wedding would be in order that way too.

Dr Fallon, Emie's boss in the hospital, was sitting next to Henry with his wife Annie and daughter Claire, who was finding her mother's fork most entertaining.

Next to Emie sat Nathalie, her fellow nurse, and that was it.

Emie smiled at the scene and at Henry's hand on hers, and then...

"The baby kicked! Seriously, Henry, it kicked! Put your hand on it, don't be a coward, I swear I felt it!"

Emie took her new husband's hand and pushed it onto her belly, and on cue, her offspring kicked his foster-father's hand twice.

Her blue eyes widened at the scene Henry offered.

He was totally and utterly happy.

She involuntarily frowned, but it passed unnoticed.

The evening finished soon, and Emie found herself in Henry's arms, passing their home's threshold.

When he settled her down onto their bedroom's floor, Emie felt her guts tighten.

But Henry didn't do anything to make her feel awkward. Instead, he just helped her with the laces in her back, and left her alone, when she could get out of her dress and into her silken white gown for the night.

When she settled into their bed's sheets, Emie waited and searched for an excuse not to do what was expected in a wedding night.

But minutes passed.

They turned to instants.

And then an hour had passed, and Henry still wasn't back.

Emie silently got up and opened the creaking door, peeking into the living-room.

Henry was entangled in sheets. On the couch.

His features relaxed, a smile plastered on his face.

Emie swore between her teeth.

How much of an idiot she was!

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