Emma looks at me for a long moment. Then she shifts, moving to straddle my lap, her hands framing my face. I feel my cock harden immediately.
Her thumbs stroke my jaw. "My father doesn't get to dictate my life. He doesn't get to tell me who I can love or when I'm allowed to start a family. I'm an adult. This is my choice."
The word "love" makes my heart stutter. "Is it? Your choice?"
"Am I choosing to hide the pregnancy from my controlling father until I'm emotionally ready to deal with his explosion? Yes." Her eyes hold mine. "Am I choosing to build a life with you, despite everyone's opinions? Yes to that too."
"Emma—"
"I'm still scared," she interrupts. "Of losing myself, of becoming too dependent on you, of everything Victoria said. But I'm also—" She stops, searching for words. "I'm starting to worry about it less and less, with each difficult conversation you and I have.”
All of a sudden, hope rushes in.
"I want to be your partner," I say. "Not your solution. Not the person who swoops in and fixes everything. Just—your partner. The person in your corner."
"Can you do that?" She asks it genuinely, without accusation. "Can you watch me struggle with something and not immediately try to solve it?"
It's a fair question. And the honest answer is: I don't know.
"I'm going to try. Really hard," I say. I pull her closer, needing the contact. "I’m going to fuck this up sometimes. But as long as we keep talking, keep being honest?—"
"We'll figure it out," she finishes.
She leans down and kisses me. Not the desperate, passionate kisses we've shared before. This is softer. Slower.
When she pulls back, some of the fear in her eyes has receded.
"Stay tonight?" she asks.
"Are you sure? I could go home, give you space?—"
"I don't want space." Her hands slide into my hair. "I want you here. With me. Is that okay?"
It's more than okay. It's everything.
"Yeah," I say. "I'd love to stay."
We move to her bedroom—barely bigger than a closet, with a double bed that's going to be a tight fit for both of us. But when we lie down together, Emma's back against my chest, my arm wrapped around her waist, my hand resting on her stomach where our children are growing, it feels perfect.
"Grant?" Her voice is quiet in the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For just... being here."
I press a kiss to her shoulder. "Thank you for letting me."
She's quiet for a moment, then: "I love you too, you know. I should have said it before. When you texted. But I was so overwhelmed by everything with Samantha and Victoria, and I just?—."
My arm tightens around her. "You don't have to?—"
"I love you," she says firmly. "It's terrifying and complicated and probably insane given how fast this is all happening. But I do. I love you."
The words settle in, so warm and real.
"I love you too," I say into her hair. "More than I knew was possible."
Emma leans toward me and kisses me and I instantly feel my cock harden. Her lips are soft against mine, her taste familiar yet still intoxicating. When she pulls back slightly, her eyes hold mine, and I'm overwhelmed by everything she means to me.
