Page 17 of Love Unexpected

Surprise flickers across Emma’s face, quickly replaced by anger and hurt. “Marcus, don’t stoop to his level,” she continues to plead.

“Emma, we’re not going to just ignore this," he counters. The way Marcus instinctively protects her sets my teeth on edge. He turns back to me, “you know my relationship with Emma isn’t what you’re trying to make it out to be. Someone had to step up and take care of her; we all know you weren't going to do it.”

His words cut deeper than I expect.

“Oh, and by the way, it’s a boy. Congrats on your son and for turning out to be just like our father. A deadbeat.”

“Son?!” Emma’s eyes are as wide as saucers again, shock written all over her face. “Marcus, did you think the baby was Noah’s?”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I didn’t knock her up!” I snap with irritation. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Emma flinch at my tone and it unsettles me. My mind races as I replay the conversation I overheard in the break room. The suspiciously guilty look on Emma’s face.

“Wait. It’s not his?" Marcus frowns, processing the information. "That day in the break room you said you were about to tell him about the baby. I thought—“

Emma’s eyes dart from me to Marcus and back again. “Wait. Is that what you both assumed? Is that why you've been so hateful towards me?" she questions me. "I can’t believe this. You thought I was passing this baby off as yours? How could you just assume that? Marcus, I was on my way to tell him because he needed to know. I thought our relationship was going somewhere and he needed to know what he was getting into.I can’t believe this,” she laughs bitterly as tears mix with her frustration.

A heavy silence falls around us as her words sink in. I stare at the floor, hands on my hips. I have no words. So many thoughts are swirling through my head. How did we get here? I feel a deep wave of regret wash over me. “Emma, I am so s—“ I begin. The hurt and betrayal on her face stops me dead in my tracks. “Emma,” I whisper, “I can’t believe I assumed… I just thought...”

Emma wipes her tears angrily. “You thought what?" she snaps. "That I was trying to tie myself to you? That I’d force you to take care of a child that wasn’t yours? How could you think so little of me?” The hurt in her eyes pierces me like a dagger to my heart, taking my breath away. Shame fills me, making it impossible to look her in the eyes.

“I feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world right now," I confess. "I shouldn’t have interrupted you that day. The second I thought you were taking advantage of me, I let my temper take over and I couldn’t think straight. I’m truly sorry.” The weight of the past few weeks settles heavily on me, suffocating, and gnawing at my conscience. I can’t believe how harsh I’ve been to her.

Marcus finally seems to come out of his daze. He clears his throat, breaking the tension. "You know what? We shouldn’t be fighting like this and stressing them both out." He turns to Emma, his voice softening. "Em, let me take you home for the day. I think you've had enough stress.” With those words, he puts an arm around her shoulder and walks her out.

Rather than feeling jealous, a strong sense of despair weighs on my chest as I watch them walk away. Regret and guilt threaten to suffocate me. I have never fucked up this bad.

———

Later that night, I find myself wide awake again. I'm desperately trying to chase away the guilt and shame swirling inside me with another glass of whiskey. The amber liquid momentarily soothes the pain. But that comfort doesn’t last long.

My phone suddenly vibrates on the coffee table in front of me with an incoming text. I glance at the screen and see Marcus’s nickname flashing at me. I roll my eyes. The way my own brother swooped in after Emma to be her hero leaves me feeling bitter towards him. Deciding to ignore the text, I get up to pour another glass. But before I grab the bottle, my phone buzzes again.

“What the fuck do you want, Marcus?” I mutter under my breath, frustration bubbling up to the surface again. I pick up my phone and swipe over the text message.

Marco: I thought you should know, I just brought Emma to the ER. She's been uncontrollably sick since we got home earlier. They're running tests now.

Marco: I’ll keep you updated.

“Like hell you will,” I spit. I snatch my keys off the kitchen counter and run out to my car. The cold March air slaps me in the face, reminding me I didn’t even stop to think about what I was doing. I ignore the chills, desperately needing to be by her side.

Chapter 17

Emma

Marcus sits cross-legged on the bed in front of me. Leaning forward with a mischievous grin on his face, he slams a ‘draw 4’ card down on the pile.

“Uno!”

“Really? You’re supposed to go easy on the sick lady!” I huff, swatting at him playfully.

“I could never let you win! Where’s the fun in that?” he laughs and dodges my hand like a pro. Our little rivalry lightens the air and lifts my spirits.

The door creaks open and we both instinctively turn toward the sound, our game completely forgotten.

“Noah,” I say surprised. He’s the last person I would expect to walk through the door, and a sudden rush of emotion floods my heart.

“Are you two really playing Uno at one in the morning?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “Emma, you should be resting.” The concern in his voice makes my heart swell. He still cares.

“I’ll give you two some privacy. I’m going to look for a vending machine,” Marcus says with a playful smirk to mask his discomfort. He stands and kisses me on top of the head before slipping out of the room and bumping into Noah’s shoulder on the way out.

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