Page 68 of Emma
You have my email address now and I want you to know you can reach out to me whenever the time is right for you, Freya.
Emma.
Emma stared at the words for a while, the weight of them pressing against her chest. It wasn’t Shakespeare, but it was honest. And it sounded like her, which mattered more than anything. Whatever was building between her and Freya, Emma wanted…needed…to be authentic throughout it all.
She read it through twice, then a third time. Her hand hovered over the trackpad, hesitating on the send button. She was sure it was appropriate and nobody would accuse her of ‘turning Freya’s head’, but the anxiety she’d felt surrounding everything was preventing her from doing the simplest of tasks and clicking the mouse.
Then her mind cast back to Freya’s smile in the corridor, to the way she’d softened when she’d told Emma she could use a ‘sister voice.’ God, she’d wanted to bottle that moment up as it happened. Emma had been so scared that it could take months—potentially longer—to reach even that small piece of common ground, but it had happened right away.
“You look like you’re trying to decide whether to send an email or diffuse a bomb,” Vanessa said as she slid into the chair beside Emma. “Would you like me to call ITV and tell them you’d be great in the next series of Trigger Point?”
Emma laughed under her breath. “Honestly, I think both situations would feel the same right now.”
Vanessa skimmed over the message without touching the laptop. “It’s perfect. It’s not overwhelming, it’s not distant, it’s just…you.”
Emma swallowed down the stubborn lump rising in her throat. “I just want her to feel safe with me. Even in an email.” She slumped back and side-glanced at her wife. “Because if shehad an upbringing even remotely similar to mine, she’s probably never felt safe with our birth family. I know I never did.”
“She will feel safe with you,” Vanessa said softly as she lowered a hand to Emma’s knee. “Because you’re not asking her foranythingshe’s not ready to give.”
Emma exhaled a calming breath and clicked the send button. The little whoosh sound made her heart skip a beat. “That’s it. It’s out there now.”
Vanessa reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Now you get to let her come to you. And when she does, you’ll be ready.”
Emma nodded, but inside she was already imagining the moment Freya’s reply landed in her inbox. How she’d probably over-analyse every word, looking for signs of warmth, curiosity, maybe even a little excitement.
For now, though, she closed the laptop and wrapped her hands around her mug. Her coffee had gone lukewarm, but she didn’t care. She leaned into Vanessa’s side, allowing herself to believe that even just for this morning, this was the start of something real.
The lunchtime rushat school was its usual blend of chaos, noise, and movement. The scrape of chairs, the constant yelling of ‘no running’ from teachers, and that ever-present background hum of teenagers chattering amongst themselves. Emma weaved her way through it all, coffee in her ‘world’s best teacher’ mug in one hand, her folder for the day tucked away under her arm. She didn’t know how she’d made it into work this morning, nor could she recall how she’d got there, her mind replaying theconstant whoosh of her sent email…wonderingobsessivelyif Freya had opened it yet.
By the time the first lot of lessons had rolled around, she’d convinced herself it was too soon to expect anything. Kids had lives, homework…friends. Twelve-year-olds weren’t exactly glued to their inbox. Well, some of them weren’t. Freya fell into that list for Emma. While some kids around the school chatted about the latest TikTok trend, Freya was busy reading books and brushing up on her netball skills.
As Emma rounded the corner and pushed her way through the double doors that would take her to the P.E. office, she saw her.
Freya was leaning against the wall outside the changing rooms, talking to a friend from practice. She was in her PE kit, this time for a regular lesson with a different teacher, her braids swinging as she nodded at something her friend said. Then her gaze lifted, caught Emma’s, and her face lit up in a way that made Emma’s stomach do a ridiculous flip.
“Miss!” Freya called out as she broke away from her friend. She trotted the few steps over, her eyes bright. “I got your email.”
“You did?” Emma’s fingers tightened around her coffee, her voice steadier than she felt. “Was it okay?”
Freya’s smile widened. “It wasreallygood. I liked it.”
“Oh, good.” Relief washed over Emma, her shoulders lowering ever so slightly. “I’m glad.”
Freya glanced around. The corridor was busy, but nobody was close enough to hear. She leaned in just a fraction. “I’m gonna email you back tonight. I already know what I want to say.”
Emma’s mouth twitched into a grin before she could stop it. But then again, why should she? She wasn’t doing anything wrong here, and Nia had said just as much. Right now, they weresimply acknowledging the receipt of an email. “I’ll look forward to reading it.
Freya blushed, but she didn’t look away. “’Kay, well, I’d better go before I’m late for my lesson.”
“Have a good afternoon, Freya.”
She nodded and turned, catching up with another friend who had just stepped out of the changing room, but not before throwing Emma one last smile over her shoulder. “Bye, miss.”
Emma stood there, appreciating the noise of the corridor as it heightened around her. It hadn’t been much, just a few sentences in passing, but it was enough. Enough to know Freya had read her words, liked them, and was eager to send her own back.
And it was certainly enough to make the rest of her day feel lighter.
Still smiling, Emma ducked into the PE office and closed the door. The smell of someone’s microwaved lunch almost had her gagging, but she pushed it from her mind and focused on what had just happened. She had to call Vanessa.
