“Tell me more about yourself and your relationship.” Dr. Jameson looked between me and George expectantly.

I sighed deeply to try and calm myself down. I knew we needed this in order to rebuild at least our friendship and the trust I didn’t have any more in him, but it was hard. I had never ever sat down and told my problems to a psychologist before, hence my nervousness.

“We’ve known each other for as long as I can remember.” George intervened.

“We were married to each other. We have 2 children and live together.”

“Interesting.” Dr. Jameson said whilst writing everything down. “Are you here as a couple?” he stared at us calmly and observed attentively.

I shift my gaze to George who was nervous and anxious about my answer.

“No.” I stated. “We’re not a couple. I just want to repair our broken friendship.”

Chapter 1

After Emma was discharged from the hospital, I felt like I was walking on egg shelves. The situation was quite awkward at home, and I felt like a burden. Emilienne still wasn’t over the shock of her mom being in hospital, whereas Darcy was a bit calmer and less hostile towards me.

Emma was in her own world. She avoided me, and tried to talk to me only if it was strictly necessary. It was so bad that I found myself multiple times debating whether I should just move out and leave her on her own as it seemed that I wasn’t wanted anyway.

Emma didn’t trust me anymore, and she didn’t believe I loved her. My main goal was to restore that confidence in me and in my love for her; however, it was easier said than done.

I didn’t realise how badly I’d damaged Emma’s spirit until I saw how fragile she looked in that cold hospital room. I broke her heart, made her feel like she was being used and crushed her self esteem. Emma was just a shell of who she used to be and that pained me greatly.

Emma was broken and I could see that she was moving towards depression. And that is why I suggested that we went to therapy together, not only to rebuild her confidence but also to repair our broken friendship.

I didn’t expect the feeling of rejection I experienced when she said so in front of the therapist.

Sometimes I sat down and thought that I ruined everything and that I had no chance. However, I tried to be optimistic as possible. Maybe I was under the illusion that things would get as they used to be but I needed to reassure myself.

I needed to believe in what we had and could have. I had to show her that I believed in us.

“Emma?” I inquired cautiously. She was in the kitchen, staring at her cup of tea. She didn’t answer. She just was lost in her thoughts, sometimes dangerous. “Emma?” I called her again.

She looked up, shocked. “Yes, George?” she spoke timidly.

I stopped myself from sighing. Emma had never been timid before.

“I was thinking that we could go out with the kids this Saturday?”

“Sure.” She gave me a small smile. “What would we do?”

“I don’t know. We should ask the kids.” I answered her.

“Okay.” She stated simply before going back to her cup of tea for a few seconds. She turned and looked at me. “I have a few things to do for work. I’ll be in the studio.” And she left me there.

Seeing her like this tore me apart. I deserved the pain. However, she didn’t.

Chapter 2

“I want you to go back in time and think about your relationship. How did it start? How did you fall in love?” Dr Jameson told us.

I stopped myself from looking at George. Only seeing him made me feel pain.

“The only thing that counts is that it’s over.” I whispered.

“Emma...” George protested feebly.

“No George, I want to know why? You told me that it was because we changed, we grew up, but that cannot be the reason. You don’t want me and you don’t love me. Maybe you never did. There’s definitely something wrong with me.” I reasoned. I knew that whatever I said wasn’t logic, but I could feel myself slipping in the darkness.

“Emma, George doesn’t think those things. He claimed more than once that he loves you and wants to be with you if you give him another chance.”

I looked at my watch and noticed that we had still half an hour.

I sighed in frustration. “Okay. Let’s do this trip down memory lane....” I said unconvinced.

My first memory of George was when I was 3 and he was 6. He used to teach me things and tell me things. I was eager to learn stuff from him. He was my best friend.

And then we grew up. George was there when I hurt myself; he was there to help me with my homework and held me when I was sad.

At the age of 5 I knew that I wanted him forever. I wanted him to be my best friend and my husband.

I always loved him. Him and only him, and I trusted that he would never hurt me.

He was my first and only crush. I thought he was handsome when I was ten, but it was when we went through puberty, him before me, that I realised how hot and attractive he was. Once George started dating other girls, I felt betrayed, and jealous. He saw me as his friend, and nothing more.

And then he left me and went to University in Scotland. He was 18 and I was 15. That pissed me off to no end.

16 years previously...

He had a girlfriend. At least that’s what he told me.

It had never bothered me as much as it did now. Probably because I could see him every day, and then I could believe that it was a phase. But now, the distance between us just made things harder.

George was the love of my life and my best friend. He was 3 years older than me and I’d known him all my life. He was my constant until 3 years earlier he decided to go to the University of St. Andrews, in Scotland, leaving me alone here in the suburbs of London, alone. I did resent him for that.

I was afraid of losing him. Next Autumn I would be the one going to Durham, and I would stay there for the next three years of my life. And I was scared. Scared of us growing distant.

George was my life and I didn’t know what I would do without him. I just had to do something, something to make him notice me. At the end of the day I loved him and I wanted him to love me. I just didn’t know how I was supposed to do that.

“You have a date.” My friend Jennifer smiled at me.

“Pardon?” I frowned at her. “You know that I don’t date.” I reasoned.

“What’s wrong with you dating someone? You can’t wait for George, forever. You have a life and I don’t want you to waste it going after someone who might not return your feelings.” She tried to explain without hurting my feelings.

“I know. But I can’t see myself with anyone else.”

She sighed and hugged me briefly. “Everything will be okay, Emma. I promise you.” She smiled at me. “Now let’s go to our History class.”

I nodded. I pushed aside any thought of George aside, knowing well enough that they would resurface sooner or later.

“Emma, I miss you.” George told me on the phone. “When are you coming back?”

“Tomorrow. This is work, George, and if I could I would spend my time with the kids and...you.” I whispered the last word, my voice dripping with uncertainty.

“Can we talk to mommy?” I could hear Emilienne’s voice in the background.

“Sure.” George said his voice distant.

“Mommy, I miss you. Come back soon. I want you to read to me my bed time story.” She exclaimed excitedly.

“Mom, how are you?” Darcy inquired.

“I’m having a lovely time in New York. I just wished you guys could be here with me.” I grinned.

“Emma, it’s pretty late, there. Rest. I’ll call you tomorrow morning.” George said softly. “Guys, say goodnight to mom.”

“Night mom.”

“Night, babies. Sleep tight.” I hang up and smiled again. My adorable children. They were everything for me.

“How is the family doing?” Taylor asked me.

“They’re doing well. Thanks for asking.” I avoided his gaze, afraid of him noticing that I was embarrassed.

“Emma...” he told me as he came closer to me.

“Taylor...” I replied.

“I want you to have some fun. We deserve it after managing to solve the problem between our companies and giving the okay for the new contract. Don’t you think so?” he put his arms around my waist and brought me closer to him.

I hugged him and kissed his cheek tentatively. “You’re right. Let’s go have some fun.”

He took my hand in this and dragged me out of my hotel room. I knew I was going to have fun and for a few hours I could forget about the mess I was.

“That was incredibly fun. The movie was amazing. We have to do it again, Taylor.” I grinned at him, happy to spend time with my friend.

“I agree. We need to live our lives before it’s too late.” He looked me in the eyes and smiled at me strangely. There was something different about him. I couldn’t quite determine what it was but I was going to find out.

“What are you thinking Emma?” he asked me, curious.

“I don’t know if you want to know.” I looked at my hands and avoided his gaze.

He raised my chin and looked me in the eyes. “Emma, talk to me. Please.”

I sighed. “Why are you here with me? I know I’m boring and not great company. Why are you even my friend? There’s something wrong with me, Taylor. There has to be something wrong with me. You don’t need to spend time with me out of obligation, nor you have to be my friend. I don’t want to be a charity case.” I whispered to him.

“What happened to you, Emma?” he shook his head. “Were you hurt this badly that you don’t see anymore any good in yourself?” his words were like a stab. “You’re a great person. You’re great company and I love spending time with you. Never doubt that.” He caressed my cheek and I closed my eyes at the contact.

“I care for you Emma, and I want you to get better. I want you to be yourself. No camouflage, no façade. Just you, the amazing woman I can call my friend and one of the most important persons in my life.” He spoke softly, afraid to hurt me.

I opened my eyes and smiled at me.

“I’d love to say that I don’t know what I would do without you, but my therapist told me in my one to one session that I have to work on not depending on people.” I sighed. “I don’t want to get depression. And I don’t want to take pills. I want to be fine.” I could feel the tears falling. “I’m such a mess, and I hate that I cry all the time as if I don’t have any more control over my emotions. I’m fed up of being and emotional basket case.”

“Emma, you’ll be fine. You just have to trust yourself and love yourself again.” He reassured me. He left a kiss on my forehead and on the corner of my mouth. “Everything will be okay.”

Chapter 3

I stared at Dr. Jameson and sighed. “I don’t want to talk about that.” I avoided eye contact.

She wrote down some notes. “And why is that, George? Why don’t you want to talk about how you feel about your dealing with Emma and the divorce?”

“It’s painful.” I told her honestly. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Yes, sure. Talk to me about whatever you want.” She reassured me with a smile.

“I love Emma. I want her to have faith in me once again. How can I do that?”

“Stay close to her. She needs the emotional support right now. She’s going through a crisis, everything she believed in seem to crumble around her. You need to show her that you’re there for her, George.” She looked at the watch on her wrist. “And our time is up. I’ll see you next week with Emma.”

The first time I realized that I was in love with Emma I was dating someone else. I was at university, far away from home, and I was going out with Melanie, this amazing good looking blonde girl who adored me: my dream girl.

I remember coming back to London for Christmas, anxious to see my family and my dearest Emma.

Years previously

I was anticipating the time when I would be back home and I could spend some quality time with everyone. I missed them, and I missed Emma, my little ray of sunshine. She was just 15 when I left and every time I came back I could see her flourishing into an amazing young woman.

I needed to talk to her. In the last few months, I felt like something was going wrong between us. She was colder, more guarded. Of course, when I raised the issue she would just tell me that I was imagining things but I knew my Emma and she definitely was hiding something.

As soon as I got off the cab, I ran to the door and knocked.

And then my father, Sebastian, opened the door and grinned at me. “Welcome home, son.” He pulled me in one of his manly hugs. Yes, I was finally home.

I had to wait 4 whole days before I could meet Emma. She was gone skiing in France. After protests from her parents’ part, I convinced them that I wanted to be the one to pick her up at the airport.

And there was I, waiting patiently for my amazing best friend to come out and hug me and never let me go.

Last time I’d seen her was in the September. I really missed her.

As soon as I saw her I waved frantically. At first I wasn’t successful into catching her attention but then she saw me. Surprise registered on her face, followed by an enormous grin. She ran up to me and jumped. I picked her up easily and hugged her close to me. I covered her face with kisses. To an outsider we might have looked like a couple in love.

“I missed you so much, my Emma.” I smiled at her as I looked her in the eyes.

She shyly put her head in the crook of my neck. I could feel her smile slightly. She then raised her eyes and spoke softly. “I missed you too, George.”

“I want to hear about everything you did when we were apart.” I put her back on her feet and took her hand in mine and squeezed. “You don’t know how seeing you has made me happy, Em. My little sunshine.” I pushed her bang away from her eyes and smiled happily.

My heart was beating so fast and it had never beaten so fast for her before. “You’re beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you, George.” She said. The smile on her face vanished. A veiled sadness and a bit of resentment in her eyes.

I looked at her in surprise but decided to comment on it later. “Let’s go home.”

Things after the meeting had been strained between Emma and me. She avoided me and that hurt me. I didn’t understand what her problem with me was, and I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her about it because she didn’t give me the chance to even be alone with her.

I was frustrated, confused, angry and hurt. Why couldn’t she give me the time of the day? I thought I was her best friend.

One day I turned up at her house to affront her. She was home alone and I took the chance to corner her.

“You owe me an explanation, Emma.” I said coldly.

“No, I don’t.” She replied with equal glacialty.

“Yes, you do!” I yelled exasperated. “Tell me what’s your problem. You don’t want to be my friend anymore?” I whispered the last few words, afraid that that was the case.

“You’re leaving me, George. You’ve abandoned me here in London to go to bloody Scotland and now that you have a girlfriend who knows if you’ll ever come back to me.”

I walked up to her and cupped her face. “Nothing will ever come between us, Emma. I won’t let that happen. My girlfriend is not my best friend. You are.” I caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead. She hugged me and cried. I didn’t understand why.

I just felt my heart swell, happy that now it was all sorted.

We looked at each other in the eyes and I felt the urge to kiss her. I leaned in as she looked at me innocently and I couldn’t stop myself. My lips touched hers for a fraction of a second, not even a taste I’d savoured from her lips. Did it even happen?

She stared at me in surprise and touched her lips.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re like my little sister.” Lies. All lies. Of course she wasn’t like a sister for me. I could feel the bitter taste in my mouth left by the lie I was feeding her with.

“Oh.” She said stoically. “Okay.”

“I got to go.” I said. I wanted more. I wanted a proper kiss.

I looked at her cautiously for a few seconds, taking in all her amazing curves and I felt the familiar stirring in my loins. I really needed to go.

As I closed the front door of her house behind me, I knew that I was in deep shit. I had just kissed my best friend and I wanted more, so much more. The coup de grace had been looking at her body. She was hot as hell even in a simple pair of jeans and a sweater. And I freaking wanted her to be mine, forever. I was to be the only one to touch her, kiss her and make love to her. I wanted her heart as she had mine. I wouldn’t let any other man take her away from me.

And it dawned on me. I was in love with her.

I sighed, smiling. I was going to work hard to get her to love me. The first step was to break up with my girlfriend Melanie.

We were all watching tv. Emilienne was on my lap, whereas Darcy’s head was on Emma’s. She would caress his hair softly and smile as a documentary on BBC 3 was on.

“How was your day, George?” Emma whispered. Knowing well enough  that our children were almost asleep.

“It was good.” I stood up, Emilienne in my arms. “I’m going to put her in bed.” She nodded.

She nudged Darcy. “Honey, you’re exhausted. You need to go to bed, Darcy.”

He nodded half asleep and followed me up the stairs.

A few minutes later I descended the stairs, and looked at Emma.

“Done?” she asked.

I nodded and sat down next to her.  She smiled slightly at me. I made rest her head on my lap and smiled as she closed her eyes. We talked about our day, about everything and nothing.

“You make me laugh, George.” She giggled.

“Good.” I chuckled in response. I kissed her forehead lovingly. “I love you.” I told her, wary of her answer.

She didn’t reply. Her eyes closed as she tried to relax.

“I love you, Emma.” I repeated, trying to get her to believe me. “I don’t expect you to say it back. I just wanted you to know that I do love you and I’m here for you. I know I haven’t been the best of friends in a long time, but I realise my mistake and I’ll do whatever it takes to gain your trust again.”

She sat up and looked at me emotionless. And she hugged me.

At first I didn’t respond as I was taken aback. But I soon hugged her back and breathed in her amazing scent.

I felt like we were moving forward. I hoped that we were moving forward.

Chapter 4

I was confused. What was wrong with me? Why did I hug George? I didn’t want to be with him anymore, remember? And then how could he seriously still want to be with me after what I’ve done to our unborn child?

Yes, it was all my fault if it had died. I wasn’t looking after myself properly and my behaviour had denied that innocent person the chance of living their lives to the fullest. I hated myself sometimes.

“Emma, what’s wrong?” Christine asked, worried as usual.

“Nothing, nothing really.” I reassured her but I knew she could see through the façade. I didn’t care, though.

I needed to stop with the negative thoughts, though. They were really dragging me down. But it was so hard. It was a vicious circle, a circle that I hated and enjoyed at the same time. I almost felt like I deserved the pain I was inflicting upon myself and felt like I was getting a just punishment. I felt like a penitent fustigating herself for her sins.

A part of me, deep down, tried to convince myself that it wasn’t my fault. That maybe that child was not destined to live, but it was my fault nonetheless. And that made me mad at myself, at George, at the world.

“Emma, do I need to ask Jennifer to prescribe you anti-depressants?” she threatened.

“No. The therapy is helping, I swear. And I don’t want to become suicidal thanks to the medicine.” I snorted at the end.

“I’ll try to believe.” She said uncertainly.

“Good.” I smiled at her genuinely.

That wasn’t a lie. The therapy was helping me deal with some of my issues with George. However, it didn’t solve the guilt I felt.

Maybe, I needed to turn myself back to religion. Maybe I needed to embrace the Church of England once again. However, my faith had never been strong, and my belief in God had always been uncertain.

We were at mine’s drinking a cup of tea whilst looking at Wedding magazines. Yes, in the end Christine finally put Karl out of his misery and agreed to marry him.

“I really like this dress.” I told her as I showed her the beautiful strapless ivory wedding dress that I found on one of the magazines.

“That is rather lovely, Emma.” She smiled big.

“I suggest that we go to one of those wedding dresses boutiques to see the potential dresses instead of just looking on magazines. That would mean that you could also try them on and we could find the perfect dress for you.”

“I agree. We should tell Jennifer so that she can tag along.” She clapped her hands in excitement.

“Totally.” I grinned. “This should be fun.”

“I want you to be my maids of honour.” She said out of the blue.

“Oh. I thought you were suppose to have only one.” I frowned, confused.

“Well, Jennifer was yours and I was Jennifer’s, so you still have to do it.”

“Oh.” I thought about it. Did I feel like doing that?

“You don’t have to do it, if you don’t feel like it, Emma.” She quickly said. “Sorry. I thought you felt up for it, but that was inconsiderate of me. I mean, your situation—“

“It was just a shock. I really am happy about this, Christine. I would be honoured to be your maid of honour.”  I put my tea cup down and hugged her.

As I hugged her, I felt like I just had an epiphany. This was just an occasion for me to have fun and pick myself up.

I knew I still loved George, and that a part of me would always love him, but the pain was going to be a little more bearable every day. No one dies of heartache. Although I felt guilty about the loss of our child, that didn’t mean that I had to be unhappy. And I was unhappy because I couldn’t seem to move on and get back to my former self.

Being the maid of honour at one of my best friend’s wedding would help me get back to my former self. I was tired of being depressed, of feeling like I wasn’t enough. I was going to turn my life around but I needed to do something in order to truly commit myself to bring the real Emma back.

I broke the embrace with my friend. “Thank you, Christine.” I told her, my eyes full of tears. “Thank you.” I hugged her again and cried tears of relief.

Emma was coming back. The Emma that stood up to George when he kissed her and didn’t talk about it for ages. The same Emma who broke up with George when he started to distance himself from her. The same Emma who could lead her team at work. The same Emma who didn’t let anyone decided for her. I had let George consume my entire existence, he was everything. Now I needed a new everything. My children, my friends but most of all myself.

“Dr. Jameson, I came to a decision. I will communicate it to you once I break the news to George.”

“You look different.” She noticed happily.

“I am different. I had a wake- up call.” I told her, my smile big.

“I’m glad that that is the case.” She smiled back at me. “You, Emma, are on the path of recovery.”

“I know.” I sighed in contentment.

“Do you want to talk to me about anything else?”

“I need you to help me deal with my guilt.” I was determined. I was going to be better.

Years previously.

“Jerk.” I muttered. “Can you believe that asshole?” I told myself. I hated him when he acted like that. Who did he think he was to raise my expectations and then treat me as if nothing happened between us?

He had been the one to kiss me, damn it! I should have been the one ignoring him, considering that he had kissed me and he had a girlfriend. At least he didn’t have one anymore now. I have to admit that that made me slightly better.

“Emma, are you okay?” my mother, Emanuela, asked me worriedly. “You can always talk to me, you know that.” She patted my back and smiled.

“I know, mom.” I told her.

“Is it about George?” she suggested, smiling.

“What about him?” I tried to act clueless, but I knew my mom could read me like a book.

She giggled. “You like him, don’t you?”she said to me happily.

“No. I love him.” I told her honestly. “And he’s just confusing me.” I told her. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I think the guy feels something for you.” She reassured me.

“I don’t know about that, mom.” I hung my head low.

“Trust me on this, Emma. Trust me on this.” She kissed my forehead. “Do you want a cup of tea, darling?” she asked.

“No, thank you.” I smiled at her.

My phone started ringing and I looked at the caller ID. I rolled my eyes and picked up. “Emma, speaking.”

“Emma, hi.” George said and I felt butterflies in my stomach. Traitor!

“Hello, George.” I say coolly.

“What’s wrong?”he asked. His voice sounded so worried.

“Nothing.” I told him without betraying any emotion.

“Emma, I miss you.” He said honestly.

“Good for you.” I told him.

“Emma, why the attitude?” he was now irritated.

“You ignore me for weeks and then suddenly decides that it is time to talk to me? Fuck off, George.” I said aggressively.

“Listen, Emma. I have responsibility here at university. I don’t expect you to understand, but homework and a loads of other things have kept me busy.” He snapped.

“You know what? I don’t have to deal with this. You kissed me and then ran away without giving me a chance to say anything. You enjoy playing with people’s feelings? Fine. You will not play with mine!” I snapped back and hung up.

I sighed annoyed. This guy was driving me crazy.

A few days later, it was Friday. I was at my school. I stayed behind because I really wanted to get some work done in the library. I was tired and annoyed and that made it harder for me to concentrate on my philosophy homework. I sighed in frustration as George invaded my thoughts.

I gave up and decided to call it a day. I was in desperate need of a cup of tea and I wanted to go home. I packed my bag and checked that my keys and my oyster were there.

After saying bye to my friends, I found myself getting out of school getting ready to walk to the tube station not far from there.

And then I saw him leaning on his mini cooper.

I felt my heart jump. What the heck was he doing here? He was supposed to be in Scotland!

“Hello, Emma.” He said sheepishly.

“Hello, George.” I replied with civility.

“You don’t mind me accompanying you home, right? I think we have a few things to discuss.” He told me as he opened the door for me.

He went to the driver side and got in.

The ride was silent for the first 20 minutes. It wasn’t a comfortable silence. Far from it.

I sighed deeply.

“Emma. I’m sorry for the other day. I missed your voice and I really wanted to call you. I thought you were going to be happy to hear from me, but I was wrong. I’m sorry for not calling you. I wanted to give you space after what happened in December.”

“Well, you thought wrong. What kind of friend are you, George?” I said, pissed off beyond measure.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Em.” His voice was full of remorse. “I was embarrassed. And I was working out a plan to make you fall in love with me.” he admitted.

“What? Why?” I frowned confused.

“Because I love you.” He stated simply. “And I want to be with you.”

“Oh.” I replied, surprised. Well, my mother had warned me about his feelings.

“Oh?” he asked incredulously. “That is all you’re going to say?” his voice betrayed the hurt he was feeling.

“Well, I’m shocked. You had a girlfriend when you came to London for the holidays. How can you have feelings for me?” I told him what I felt.

“I love you, Emma. I realised that I loved you when I came. Now, do you love me or not?”he was growing impatient.

He parked in front of my house and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Fine. I love you too.” I said sincerely.

He grinned at me and caressed my cheek. He tentatively leaned in and stopped just a mere inch from my lips. “Do you want to be with me?”

I merely nodded, a big smile on my face before I closed the distance between our mouths and kissed him.

He kissed me back immediately. His tongue seeking mine as I opened my mouth to grant him permission.

I felt like I was on cloud nine. Yes, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy with us living in two different places, but I knew that if we kept loving each other, we were going to be fine.

We interrupted the kiss in need of air. “Thank you for making me happy, Emma.” George whispered.

“You’re welcome.” I smiled back.

He kissed me again.

“Mom?!” Darcy said worried as he looked at me.

“Hey, Darcy.” I greeted him.

He sat next to me on the sofa and I kissed the top of his head.

“How was school?” I asked him.

“It was really good. We started looking at poems in French.” He smiled at me.

“Did you do your homework?” I inquired.

“No. I will do so in a few minutes, mom.” He reassured me. “Dad left me here and went to pick up Emilienne from tennis.” He informed me.

“Good.” I nodded. “It’s almost 5 o’clock. What do you want to eat for snack?”

“Tea and biscuits will do, mom. Unless you made a cake...” he looked at me, his eyes full with hope.

“You’re lucky, kid. I made a chocolate cake today.” I grinned. “Let’s go and get the kettle on. Meanwhile you can tell me all the fantastic things that you did at school.” I stood up and so did he. We went hand in hand in the kitchen.

I smiled at Darcy. Gosh, he looked so much like his father.

“Mommy, I wish you came to watch me play tennis. Daddy said that I’m improving.”

“Of course you’re improving. Emilia.” George said, smiling proudly.

We were finished playing our game of scramble and it was 8.30. Bed time was approaching.

“Come on guys, it’s time to go to bed.” George picked a tired Emilienne up.

She yawned. “I don’t want to go to bed.” She said as she put her head on George’s shoulder.

He sighed and rolled his eyes in my direction.

Darcy helped me put everything in order and then he went upstairs. I followed shortly after.

I went to Emilienne’s room as soon as she was changed and ready for bed. Her hair was in a pony tail and I could tell that George had brushed it properly.

“Mommy and daddy, I love you lots.” She said as she was falling asleep. We both kissed her forehead and waited for her to get completely out of it.

Then it was Darcy’s turn.

“Night, baby.” I told him as I kissed his cheek. “Sleep tight.”

“Goodnight, Darcy. Sweet dreams.” George said as he kissed his forehead.

We both exited the room and I closed the door quietly behind us.

“You look much better, Emma.” George commented as he hugged me to me.

I just smiled.

We went to our respective rooms and got into our pyjamas.

We met each other again downstairs and got each a glass of red wine.

We talked about many things. Work, friends, Karl and Christine’s wedding and etc.

I tried to work out the gut to tell him.

“Emma, what’s wrong?” he asked curiously and apprehensively as I frowned.

“I need to make a step towards my full recovery, George.” I told him, my voice calm and relaxed.

“You’re scaring me, Emma.”

“I don’t need to be living under the same roof as you, George.” I said with honesty. “One of us need to move out.”

He gaped at me, unable to say anything. “Would this move be temporary?” he asked, his voice trembling, almost cracking.

I stared at him in the eyes. I could see the tears collecting in his.

“I don’t know. One step at a time. I need space, George. I need to become fully independent from what we had. I’m sorry if this upsets you.” I looked at him and I felt bad for hurting him. However, I wasn’t going to take a step back.”

He put his glass of wine down. “If this is what you want, okay. I am going to move out.”

“I still want you to be present as much as you can.”

“You mean I could come here every evening for the kids?”

“Yes. I don’t want them to feel alienated from you.” I reassured him.

“I guess I’ll have to move in back with my parents, at least for a while.” A tear spilled from his eye. He quickly dried it and put on a stoic face.

Chapter 5

I sighed as I opened the front door to my parents’ house. 5 months had passed since the day Emma told me that she needed me to move out. I thought it would have been easier not living with her after a while, but it really wasn’t. I saw the kids everyday but it just wasn’t the same. I missed them, I missed our family, I missed Emma.

I entered quietly. It was well over midnight and my parents were probably already in bed. I didn’t want to wake them up.

I took off my coat and put it on the hanger at the entrance of the house. I took a shaky breath and shook my head trying to stop the tears from falling. Emma did not want to give me a second chance, at least not yet.

After putting the kids to bed that night, I stayed behind and talked to her about moving forward. The therapy sessions we were going to were doing us good. We were back to being friends, and Emma was returning to be her true-self. She was again the confident, smart, strong woman I fell in love with all those years before. But unlike the pre-divorce Emma, it seemed that she didn’t need me anymore.

It broke my heart to know that she could move on if she wanted. It broke my heart to know that she spent a lot of time with Taylor, who clearly had feelings for her. She promised me that there was nothing going on between them, but I could tell that something was bound to happen sooner or later. I could see her eyes shine when she talked about him...maybe it was just friendship on her part. I hoped so. I didn’t know what I would do if she fell in love with him.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to move on. She was the only one for me. I just wished that I’d remember that before asking for a divorce.

 I could feel her slipping away from my grasp. Yes, she was still in love with me, and probably a part of her would always be. However, I was afraid. And the fact that she rejected me that night was making me feel hopeless.

How could she be against a simple dinner, just the two of us, at her favourite restaurant? Why couldn’t she give us a second chance? We could date again and see where it was going to lead us....

I really needed to pick myself up and try to do my best to convince her that she could trust me with her heart. Hard task, if you asked me, but I never backed down. I wasn’t a loser. I was a winner, and I was going to win her back.

---------------------------------------

“Come on, man. I think that’s all you should be drinking tonight.” Karl, my friend, tried to reason with me.

I nodded. “You’re right. I should come down.” I told him, my speech a bit slurred. It was Friday night with the boys.  Matt, Jennifer’s husband was there as well.

“I guess it didn’t go down well with her when you asked her.” Matt said sadly.

“Nope. It was a disaster.” I whispered. I looked at my empty glass.

“Keep trying, man. We all know that she still loves you. She’s just afraid? Can you blame her?” Karl patted me on the back.

“Of course not.” I snapped. Gosh, I was a wreck.

“Do something, man! Pursue her, court her before that Taylor gets her heart. You should start by organising a outing with her and the kids. Go to the park and have a picnic or something....take them to the cinema, whatever. Just wake up and plan something.” Matt encouraged me.

“That’s actually a good idea.”Karl agreed.

“You can win her back. Just work hard for it.” He grinned. “Everything will be fine.”

---------------------------------------------------------

“Daddy, see how good I am at playing tennis!” Emilienne said enthusiastically.

Darcy and Emilienne were playing at our local tennis centre. Emma and I were assisting as they were playing for fun.

“You’re amazing, baby!” I encouraged her and she grinned at me.

Darcy rolled his eyes at his sister’s antics.

“They are really growing up fast.” I sighed. “I wish they could stay children a bit longer.”

She touched my hand tentatively. “I know. Darcy is going to be a teenager soon. I can’t believe he’ll be 10 in a few months. My babies are growing up.” She grinned. “I can’t imagine how you’re going to take the fact that our daughter will want to date when she gets older.”

I frowned. “I’m not going to take it well or bad because she’s not going to date anyone until she’s twenty if I have any say so.”

“Do I have to remind you that we got married when I was 20?” she laughed.

“Yes, but that was different.” I answered back.

“Of course it is, because it was you.” She grinned at me.

I huffed. “Fine. I don’t want her to marry young though. I want her to go around and see the world, like you wanted.” I smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I tied you up as soon as I could....”

“You really are something else, George. You kept pestering me to marry you. And you kept asking even when I said that we were too young. I said yes in the end only to shut you up!” she smiled.

“Yeah, I couldn’t accept no as an answer. I love you too much to get a no from you.” I said and she looked at me in surprise.

Years previously

It had been a few months since Emma and I were officially together. I was now back in Scotland  and I was missing her like crazy. I heard from her every day, but that just wasn’t enough. I loved being at my university, but the idea of staying one more year there without seeing her all the time really made me feel awful. I was grateful that the next fall she was going to move to Durham, which wasn’t so far from the Scottish border. However, I couldn’t wait to move to Durham as soon as I was finished with my degree. We could move to London once she finished studying. I did need to study for a law conversion course anyway, and I could do so at Durham.

I wanted to be closer to her, especially now that she was sitting her A2 exams. Thank Lord we were in June and I could leave as soon as I sit my finals.

I couldn’t wait for the holidays. We planned to go to Paris, Florence, Barcelona and Mykonos. Then we would part ways as she would go to Amsterdam with her friends to celebrate the end of sixth form, and I would return to London as an intern in a law firm.

Gosh, I missed my Emma. I missed her so much. I was glad that we hadn’t sealed the deal yet, otherwise I would be dead by now. A sample of her was going to hook me up forever. We hadn’t approached the subject of sex yet. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to do it. I wanted her to tell me when she was ready. However, I still hoped that we would make love soon, because I was dying here. I’d been sexually active since I was 15, and I was going through withdrawal. I would never cheat on Emma, so my only source of relief was my own hand, but that didn’t help much. I was horny as hell. Hearing her voice had the power to make me hard as a brick. And I felt dirty masturbating at the memory of the sound of her voice after our long phone calls.

Two weeks later I found myself hugging Emma from behind in front of the balcony of our apartment for a few days in Paris. The weather was nice and we had spent a lot of time sightseeing. Paris was truly an amazing city, and I knew Emma was going to love it. After all she was going to study history of art. We’ve been in so many churches I lost count. Notre Dame, Le Pantheon, La Saint-Chapel. She loved them all. I didn’t see the beauty in them, but I didn’t complain. I was happy as long as I was spending time with her.

I kissed her neck as she looked down on the streets.

“I love Paris.” She sighed in contentment.

“I love you.” I whispered in her ear.

“I know.” She said arrogantly.

I gently bit her ear. She turned around and glared at me.

I felt the familiar stirring in my loins. I smiled at her sheepishly, the desire in my eyes obvious.

She was now facing me. I hugged her close and I knew she could feel my erection in my jeans.

She smiled uncertainly at me, her irritation towards me gone in a second.

I kissed her tentatively at first, and then when I felt her respond, my kisses grew of intensity. I held her close, my arms around her waist as her hands were in my hair. I could feel her chest pressed against mine and I moaned in her mouth.

I picked her up, her legs now around my waist. I went back to our room and closed the balcony doors, my lips never leaving hers.

I laid her on the bed and looked at her in the eyes. They were full of innocence, nervousness and lust.

I took my shirt off. She took off hers. I was on top of her soon after, our kisses more and more intense.

I took my time undressing her, leaving butterflies kisses on her new exposed flesh. She wasn’t so patient. Her hands fumbled with my belt-buckle, her hands trembling at the same time, clearly showing how nervous she was.

I stopped her a second. “Emma, you know that we don’t have to make love, right? We can stop whenever you want.” I reassured her, even though I hoped she wasn’t going to.

“I really want you, George.” She told me, her voice low. She rubbed her legs together to alleviate her urges. “I really want to do this.” She licked her lips as she gave me the once-over.

I kissed her passionately once again before taking off my jeans and boxers at the same time.

Her eyes were perusing my body and she had this look of apprehension when she stared down south.

“I promise you that I will take it slow.” I told her, my voice dripping with emotion.

“I know. I trust you, George.” She relaxed a bit.

I did the best I knew how to please her. I prolonged foreplay as long as I could in order to make sure that she was wet and ready for me.

“Will you do something for me?” I asked her as I positioned myself at her entrance.

“What?” she moaned, breathlessly. She was still on a high after her orgasm.

“Will you do me the favour of marrying me, Emma?” I asked, serious.

“What?!” she asked incredulously.

I didn’t give her the chance to say anything else as I slowly entered her. I repressed the instinct to thrust into her roughly. I pushed slowly until the barrier broke. She cried out and held her breath. Her innocence a thing of the past. She tensed considerably.

“I love you, Emma. I do, I really do.” I told her as a single tear fell on her cheek. I kissed it, as I gave her time to adjust.

After a few minutes she nodded. That was the sign I needed before slowly and tenderly making love to her.

No words were spoken as we made love. I’d never felt like this before. If I had any doubt of Emma being the one, which I never had by the way, after making her fully mine I knew she was the one who was destined to be with me.

We both climaxed together, and I felt truly satisfied. Not only our bodies had connected but our souls as well.

She smiled at me as we faced each other in bed, her eyes never leaving mine as she caressed my cheek.

“Marry me.” I whispered.

“Yes, in the future, but not now.” She told me sincerely.

“Why not?” I asked, hurt by her rejection. “Don’t you love me?”

“Of course I love you, but we’re still young. I’m 17, George. And although it is legal for us to get married, that does not mean that we are responsible enough to do so.” She reasoned.

I knew she was right, but I didn’t care. I wanted to be her husband and I wanted her to be my wife. 

My eyes were full of determination.

“Oh no, Mister. Don’t look at me like that.”

“We’re going to get married. I won’t rest until you say yes, Emma.”

More than a year had passed since we made love for the first time. She was at Durham and I had just finished my fourth year at St. Andrews. Finally, I was free, and I was soon going to move with Emma at Durham. I would work part-time at a law firm, and study.

Emma and I were house-hunting in Durham. We had seen a few one bedroom flats and we were having trouble deciding which one we were going to rent. We wanted it to be close to the campus and to the city centre.

“Emma, just choose one. I don’t care at this point.” I told her.

She glared at me. “Thanks for nothing, George.”

“Sorry.” I told her. “Which one you can see us in?”

“The one with the nice view of the city.” She said after thinking for a while.

“Done. Chosen, love.” I grinned at her and kissed her deeply. My hands travelling under her t-shirt to her bra.

We were in her dorm room. She shivered under my touch. I quickly unhooked her bra.

“I can’t believe that we’re moving in together.” I told her. “The only things that are missing are an engagement ring and a wedding band.”

She froze before looking at me, frustrated. “I was hoping you wouldn’t talk about this, George. I guess that was wishful thinking on my part.” She sighed.

“What’s wrong with me wanting to make a honest woman out of you? Do you want to live in sin?” I inquired, half-jokingly.

“Oh shush. You don’t give a damn about us living in sin. We’ve been swimming in ‘sin’ the day we had sex for the first time.” She glared at me.

“That is all your fault. I asked you to marry me that day before we even had sex, Emma.” I reminded her.

She huffed. “Can’t you see I’m too young to be married? I’m 18, now. Girls that get married so young are pregnant. I’m not pregnant and I really do not want to marry you now.”

Her last words hurt me more than she could imagine. I stopped touching her and distanced myself from her.

“George...I didn’t mean it that way. One day we will get married, but not now. Let me at least obtain my degree.”

“But that means two more years.” I whined.

“You just have to be patient.” She shrugged.

“You know me well enough to know that I’m not a patient man.” I warned her.

“I know, however, I really want us to wait.” She pleaded with me.

“I will wait...”

I hear a but somewhere.” She said cautiously.

“But we need to make it official. You will wear the engagement ring I bought for you. If you do not want to, I’ll stress you out so much that you will say yes to marry me straight away to shut me up.”

“But!” she protested.

“Marry me, marry me, marry me, marry me...” I kept chanting.

“Fuck off, George. Okay, okay, I will wear your ring. Happy?!” she glared at me.

“I am, for now.” I smirked at her before taking her t-shirt off.

“Will you allow me to go out with you on a date?” I inquired as we looked at our kids still playing.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that, George. It’s not like I don’t want to, but I really want us to wait before trying to date.”

“I want to court you, Emma. I’m not asking you to allow me back into your bed. Just a date. And if you hate it, I’ll...” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Don’t make promises you cannot keep.” She smiled at me and kissed my cheek.

“I love you.” I told her honestly.

She smiled and said nothing in response. She opened her mouth to say something but she quickly closed it.

“One friendly date.” She sighed in defeat.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I exclaimed excited before kissing her full on the lips.

She froze in my arms before tentatively responding to my kiss. I hugged her to me as my teeth bit her lower lip. She gasped and I took the chance to sneak my tongue into her mouth.

She pulled away embarrassed after she moaned.

“I’m sorry.” I apologised. “I didn’t....I was just...” I said hopelessly, afraid that she would now refuse to go out with me.

“It’s not like I didn’t respond. It takes two to tango, George.” She said, still embarrassed.

“Yeah, but I initiated the kiss. I’m so sorry, Emma.” I was sincere.

“I guess we’re going out next Friday.” She told me with a sheepish smile.

“I guess we are.” I grinned. “I love you.”

“I know.” She whispered.

I looked at her in surprise. She said she knew! That meant that she didn’t doubt my feelings for her anymore.

“I love you.” I repeated.

“I know, George. However, I still doubt that it’s enough in our case.” She sighed sincerely.

“One step at a time.” I said to her. “One step at a time.” I took her hand in mine and intertwined our fingers.

Chapter 6

“So why did you ask me to babysit your kids?” Taylor asked as he drank his cup of tea in my kitchen.

“I have to go out.” I told him.

“A date?” he smiled at me. Something was wrong in the way he smiled at me. It didn’t look sincere.

“A friendly date.” I précised. I scrutinised him and saw that he seemed almost relieved?

“Who is taking you out on a friendly date?” he inquired curiously.

“George.” I answered by looking at my hands. I avoided his eyes, afraid that he would judge me.

“Oh...” he paused. “Have fun, I suppose.” He gave me a forced smile.

I sighed. “I don’t know if I should go. I mean it’s just a friendly date. Do you think I should cancel?” I asked him, my voice uneasy.

“That, I cannot tell you, Emma. It is your life, and I can’t take decisions for you, even though I think you have an idea of what I would do if I were you.” He touched my hand and squeezed it before pulling away.

The little comfort that he had give me gone.

“You are the voice of reason, Taylor.” I grinned at him.

“I know.” He smirked. “The kids are unusually quiet. I guess the cartoon is that good?” He shrugged, changing the subject.

“I think you’re right. They are more active when watching TV. Let’s go and check on them.” I said as I stood down from the kitchen stool.

I went in the living room and saw Emilienne and Yeoshua sleeping in front of the TV. A peaceful expression on both their faces.

“Aww.” I cooed. “They are so cute.” I whispered.

Yeoshua was the spitting image of his father. Since I met him, the similarity with Taylor was becoming more and more evident. He had the same beautiful eyes and black jet hair. He was such a lovely child and he was quite a close friend of Emi.

“Should we wake them up?” he whispered smiling.

“Let’s give them 10 more minutes and then they can go to bed.” I grinned back.

We went back to the kitchen.

“Let me know how the date goes, Emma.”

“Of course, Taylor. You’re one of my closest friends.”

He frowned and he assumed this pained expression.

“What’s wrong?” I asked worried.

“Do not worry, Emma. Something distressing related to work came up to my mind.”

I knew he was lying. However, I decided against pressing him for the truth. I knew him well, and he hated being pressured into something. He would just clamp up and avoid saying anything.

“Okay.” I said unconvinced.

Taylor was an introvert and shy person. He was never one to speak too much. But he always knew the right thing to say. He loved what was known and stable. He loved his tranquillity. I was always pushing him into trying something new. In other words we were exact opposite. I talked too much, and I was always up for a challenge. I guess our friendship was a good thing.

Since the day we met, we always kept in contact. He had been there for me when I needed someone who would not judge me. Although I loved Christine and Jennifer to bits, there were certain things I was afraid to tell them as I knew them. They would not judge me, nor look down on me, but I would see the disapproval right in their eyes. Taylor was judgement free. He listened carefully, weighted the pros and cons and then expressed his opinion on a matter. He thought about things, I spoke before thinking. I was impulsive, he was not.

I knew I had a crush on me, but I would never act upon it. If he fell in love with me, I would hate to hurt him. My heart still belonged to George, as much as I hated the fact that he had still such a strong hold on my heart and my feelings. However, the pain was becoming less and less stronger. Time was healing my wounds.

George loved me, and a part of him would always love me as I him. However, I was aware of the fact that getting back together would only complicate things. I needed to become independent, and although I missed not living with him, I admit that it had done me good. I had to time to reflect truly about myself and my behaviour in the last two years, since George had asked me for a divorce.

I did not want to move on in the past. I remember telling George that we needed to leave together because I did not want to traumatise our children. That was just one of the reasons. Yes, I wanted my kids to live with their father, but I did want him to continue living with me to delude myself that everything was still the same. I gave myself to him because I deluded myself that by offering him my body I would bring him back to me. By letting him do as he pleased with me, he would come back to me. How wrong I had been! My behaviour had only brought about more sufferance not only for me but for George and the children.

Sometimes I asked myself how things would have been if I had asked George to leave the house sooner. He would have not been there when I was suppose to go clubbing that night to stop me, and we wouldn’t have had sex. We wouldn’t have been friends with benefits, I wouldn’t have felt dirty afterwards, I wouldn’t have felt the need to still believe in the illusions that things could go back to how they used to be. That would have never happened.

And maybe I would have found myself with a broken heart healing faster. George would have never realised that he was still in love with me- if that is truly the case- and I would have moved on with my life. My need to hold on to the past kind of ruined everything. And here we were now, a broken family trying to heal itself. Another statistic. Another divorced couple with the two kids, and the broken picket fence. We didn’t even get the chance to get the dog. Damn.

I needed to stop with the what-ifs. But they always brought me to the possibility of no problems emerging between me and George and a third baby when he wanted it or a less painful divorce and me maybe moving on with Taylor?

Gosh, why was he always in my mind? Was it for gratitude, was it because I loved him as a friend? Why did I always think about him recently? That was not good. I did not need another man invading my thoughts to make things worse. I needed to straighten my life around without having to rely on a man.

George was my universe in the past. He wasn’t anymore. However, I did not need to put another man in my universe. I just needed to put myself and my children as my main priority.

“Thank you for accepting to go out with me, Emma.” George smiled sheepishly.

“It’s okay.” I told him.  I looked back at the menu in front of me.

We were at Skylon, a restaurant in the Royal Festival Hall.

“Do you know what you plan to order?” he asked me.

“The scallops as starter and the beetroot risotto.” I answered and closed the menu and put it back on the table. “You?”

“The roast chicken salad and the pea and shallot tortelloni.”

He looked at me in the eyes and smiled. “How was your day?” he inquired.

“It was quite good actually. Work is fine. I got to spend time with Emilienne as I had an early day, and Taylor kept me company before you came over to pick me up.”

He frowned as I mentioned Taylor. Nothing new there. He disliked him, probably because he realised that I had a crush on him or something.

“So...how is Taylor?”

“Good.” I grinned.

He clenched his jaw.

I rolled my eyes in response. “Do you want to say something?”

“Yes. But I don’t know how you will take it.” He told me by staring me right in the eyes.

“Try me.” I knew I was playing with fire. George looked pissed.

“You like him.” He stated.

“Of course I do. He’s my friend.” I replied, annoyed already.

“No. You like him more than a friend.” He said, angry.

“I do. However, I do not wish to act upon these new found feelings. At least not now that I still have feelings for you, even though I should not.” I told him calmly. “You just have to accept that Taylor is important for me. I did not wish to develop any kind of feelings for him. At the moment I just have a crush on him. So, do not worry yourself, George. I don’t feel ready for a relationship with any one, to be honest.”

“Oh. Not even with me.”

“Especially not with you.” I emphasised, my voice cold.

He looked at me hurt. His face a mask of pain. “Wow, that really made me feel better.” He spat sarcastically.

“I need to become emotionally independent from you, George. I’m getting there.” I told him. “I’m sorry if my words have hurt you in any way, but I’m simply stating the truth.” I put a hand on his. “Anyway, this is supposed to be a friendly date. Let’s talk about something else.” I told him.

He intertwined our fingers and kissed the top of my hand.

“As you wish, love.” He smiled at me, a determined glimpse in his eyes.

Oh Shit. That was not a good sign.

“How was your outing with Darcy today?” I asked him.

“It went quite well. We had a good father-son bonding moment.” He grinned happily, his eyes full of love as he talked about our son.

“So what did you do?” I was curious. When Darcy came over with George he was happy, something that he hadn’t been when he spent time with his father for the last two years.

“Well we talked about you, a lot. And we played videogames. He totally kicked my ass, but next time I will be the one winning.” He blushed a bit at admitting defeat.

“You talked about me?” I frowned. What the heck did those two say?

“Yes, we did. He said that I’m getting back in his good graces, but another faux pas and he’ll give me the cold shoulder.” He said. “I asked him if he loved you more than me.” he stated simply.

“And?”

“He affirmed that that was not the case. And if the situation was reversed and you had been the one hurting me he would have treated you as he treated me. However, he admitted that he normally feel much closer to you as he is a mummy’s boy after all.” He smiled sweetly. “I’m glad that Darcy’s hate days are over. I just need to keep on the right track.”

“This news make me happy.” I told him.

He moved closer to me and kissed my cheek. “I love you.”

“Please, stop.”

“Why?” he inquired as he left small kisses on my hand. He started caressing it slightly. His touch so faint that I thought I was imagining it.

“You’re playing dirty, George.” I said, my voice trembling. I did not want to feel this way. However, his touch was igniting fire in me.

“All is fair in love and war.” He whispered.

“No, it isn’t. You played dirty too many times George. If you really love me as you claim, you should try and be fair with me. Do not try to seduce me. Do not make me hate myself for giving into you.” I said. “Just don’t...” I whispered. My voice trembling.

“I love you, you love me. We can work on our issues, Emma. We can get back together. Slowly, I know...but...”

“I’m not ready. I’m not ready for what you’re asking of me, George. Just don’t screw this up. Be my friend, not my lover.” I tried to get through him.

He looked at me intently and leaned in. He kissed me softly, his lips lingering a few moments on mine. And then he pulled away.

“Sorry, Emma.” He looked down, ashamed of his behaviour. “It’s just that I love you so much and the idea of us never getting back together literally breaks my heart. I love you. I really do and we can do this your way, I promise. Just tell me how.”

“Be my friend, George. That is all I ask of you. I hope that if we are meant to get back together, then everything will follow from there.” I blinked, trying to stop the tears that welling up in my eyes.

Dr. Jameson looked at me in the eyes. “You did the right thing, Emma. Giving into George could have brought you a few steps back. You need to be strong and think about you, now. Later on, you can rebuild your relationship with George, but only after you’ve rebuilt yourself and your self-confidence.

I sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“I also think that you should try and seek clearly to identify your feelings for Taylor. Do not necessarily act on them, but at least try to see if you are simply infatuated with him, if you’re only feeling gratitude for him other than friendly love, or if you’re projecting your fears of being on your own by trying to seek out a new man to put at the centre of your universe. There is always the possibility that you like him for no other reason and that you are simply falling in love with him.”

I looked at her surprised. I guess she noticed that I had feelings for Taylor when I spoke to her about how he is always there for me.

“Do you by any chance dream of him, Emma?”

“Yes, I do.”

“What kind of dreams, Emma?”

“I depends.” I looked down. “Sometimes they are simply of us hanging out as friends. Sometimes it is us...kissing and....you know?”

“No I don’t know, Emma.” She smiled at me. “I need you to tell me, if you feel like it.” She reassured me.

“Well...it only happened once. It never happened before. And I don’t know how I feel about this. I kind of am avoiding Taylor as a result. It was a really really hot dream, and it made me feel a bit guilty afterwards, as if I should not be dreaming him but George instead.” I sighed. “We were having sex. Not love, sex. Hot steamy sex in his house’s kitchen table. And it was amazing. It was pure and animalistic, and it felt so real.” I looked down, embarrassed. “I know it’s wrong. I should be dreaming about George and me in steamy situations, and those dreams still occur, but...I just feel attraction towards Taylor, and I did feel like this since the day I met him.”

“I think that now that George is not anymore all you see, you are simply allowing yourself to see Taylor as you always wanted to see him. I remember you telling me once that if you weren’t in love with George you would pursue a relationship with Taylor. Maybe you are not in love with Taylor. The fact that you dreamt to have sex with him instead of making love to him kind of tells you about your feelings.”

I avoided looking at her in the eyes.

“Emma, do not be ashamed. You are a single healthy woman. I know it’s hard, as it is the first time in your life that you are thinking about another man other than your husband. Take your time, and think about what you want. Maybe you want to give George another chance or explore your feelings for Taylor, or maybe none of the above. Just don’t rush, take your time and evaluate your life. Do you really need a man now?”

I shook my head.

“Don’t let anyone rush you. You will be fine, Emma.”

I smiled at her, feeling so much better.

That night I dreamt Taylor again. Sex, again. I woke up drenched in sweat and horny as ever. I felt embarrassed as I sought to relieve myself.

I replayed the dream in my head.

“Emma, fuck.” Taylor exclaimed as he looked at my naked body as I joined him in the shower.

“Yes, fuck is the right word, Taylor.” I smirked at him. “I want you to fuck me.” I told him as I licked my lips at the sight of his package.

He pulled me closer to him and picked me up, the water running down our bodies. His lips crushed mine as he entered me easily. I was already wet for him.

He pounded into me like a mad man. We came together and I felt my body tremble as I yelled his name and he yelled mine.

We looked at each other in the eyes and smiled satisfied as I gave him a hungry kiss.

“That was hot.” He told me.

I nodded unable to say anything.

After that dream the only two things that I wanted to know about Taylor were: a) whether he was packing as he did in the dream; b) whether he was so passionate in bed.

Fuck, I was in trouble.

My life was already complicated. Why the heck did these dreams start now?! 

Chapter 7

“Emma has already told me her version of events. I want to know yours.” Dr. Jameson looked at me seriously. Not an ounce of judgement in her eyes.

I sighed in frustration. “I can’t control myself around her. I keep promising her that she has all the time in the world, but I just want to be with her. I don’t want to lose her.”

“Don’t you feel like you’re pushing her boundaries?” she asked me, curiously.

“A bit.” I said, smiling sheepishly. “But I want her and I feel like I have to convince her and persuade her that it is the right thing to do.”

“George....” she gave me a look that seemed to penetrate my soul. “How do you know that it is the right thing?”

“I—“ I interrupted myself, unable to give her an answer.

“There seems to be a pattern in your relationship with Emma when you are the one really in charge of the whole relationship, and Emma is merely abiding to your decisions.” She observed.

I frowned. I didn’t like where this was going.

“George, you were the one who pushed for a relationship with Emma, the one who nagged her to push her to accept to move in with you and become your wife. You were the one who wanted a child straight away, and told her that you wouldn’t wait more than three years to have a child. You wanted another child. She didn’t. And the first time she decides to go against what you feel is the right thing to do, you distance yourself from her and think that you are not in love with her anymore. And now, you want her back and thus, you believe that it is the right thing for her to do to get back with you.”

“Maybe, it is not the right thing for her to get back with you, George. Have you thought about that?” Dr. Jameson asked.

I shamefully shook my head.

“You have to give her the freedom to choose. Do try not to restrain her actions. If you persuade her or try to force her to give into your demands, then she will feel like she is in chain and is not able to do things on her own. Remember that she is trying to become emotionally independent from you, at least to an extent. By getting back together with you not because she truly wants to, she will only go back to her old ways.”

“Thank you Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. Just remember that you should make sure that you do not think that what you think is exactly what Emma thinks.” She smiled at me encouragingly. “George, you’re making progress.” She reassured me.

She looked at her watch. “I believe our time is up, George.”

“Daddy?” Emilienne looked at me annoyed.

“Yes, Emi?” I gave her my attention. “Sorry. Dad is a bit distracted.”

“Why? Is it something the head doctor has told you?” she inquired.

“Yes, Emi.” I smiled at her. “Do not worry your head around it, baby.”

“Okay...” she frowned at me, trying to make me break the silence and tell her something. When I stare back at her with the same expression she laughed.

I joined her soon enough.

We were at her favourite frozen yogurt store.

“So...when are you and mommy getting back together?” she grinned at me, happily.

“I have no clue, love. You should ask your mother.” I  said feebly. “I’m not so sure that your mom wants to...”

“Why? You’re handsome and generous and you’re the best dad in the world.” She said convinced.

“Aww, thank you Emilienne. But I think mom questions whether I was a good husband or not.”

Why?” Oh no. Here we go again. Never let Emilienne asks you a why question. Ever.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Anyway, how is second grade?” I asked her.

“I love it. I really like school. And all my friends from la ‘maternelle’ are in my same class. That’s so cool.” She grinned at me.

“So you’re happy about doing half of your school work in French?” I asked cautiously.

I remember endless discussions about sending our children to French school. I thought it was a bit unpatriotic. Emma wanted our children to speak more than one language. She didn’t want them to be like me, only able to speak English.

“I prefer my French lessons, to tell you the truth.” She said excitedly. “And now I get to speak a lot of French home too.”

“Wait, so now you speak French home? Just French?”

“We can choose, but Darcy and I prefer speaking French most of the time. It’s so fun.”

That news did not make me happy. I had to talk to Emma about this.

“What’s the subject you think you’re best at?”

She thought about it for a while. Her brown curls bounced on her forehead as she moved her head once side.

I moved them back in place and she smiled at me.

“The teachers say that I’m pretty good at everything. I don’t get anything lower than 15.” She said proudly.

“You’re so good, Emi.”

“Do you miss school, Daddy?”

“Me?” I looked at her incredulously. “Maybe a little bit. I miss not having to worry about so many things, and playing with my friends all the time. I was such a disaster at school. Always playing pranks.”

“Did you have bad grades?”

“Nope. My parents wouldn’t have been happy if I did.” I chuckled at the image of my mother scolding me and telling me she would not allow me to go play football.

“Why are you a lawyer?”

“I like arguing a lot. And I love arguing my case.”

“Why?” she asked again.

“I don’t have an explanation for it. It’s just a way for me to have a play in someone’s case being right or wrong.”

“What’s the point in arguing and arguing and arguing and arguing—“

I interrupted her. “I get your point, Emilienne.” I said sternly.”I’m arguing something different all the time.”

“The right side?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“It sounds boring.” She said sincerely. “Why do you do it?”

“Because I do not find it boring.” I shrugged. “Gosh, you’re worse than the Spanish Inquisition.” I rolled my eyes.

“What is the Spanish Inquisition?”

I smiled. My child was curious all the time. “It was a sort of religious court and they tried people centuries ago.”

“You won’t oblige me to be a lawyer right?”

“Of course not, baby. You can do whatever you want as long as it is legal and reasonable.” I kissed her cheek.

“Good, because I want to be a scientist!”

“Emi, Daddy loves you so much.” I told her. “Never forget that.”

“Mom, I’m home.” I yelled and closed the door behind me.

“Your mom is at her book club meeting, tonight.” My father reminded me from the living room.

“Oh.” I said. I went in the living room and saw him watching a James Bond film. “How are you, Dad?”

“I’m fine. You, son?”

“I’m okay.” I shrugged.

“No more panic attacks?” he ignored the TV and focused his attention on me.

“Some, but rarely now. Thanks for the meds.”

“It’s my job.” He smiled at me.

“Gold Finger, huh?” I asked as I sat next to him on the sofa.

“Yes.”

“How is the family?”

“They are all doing fine. I spent time with Emilienne today. We went to the frozen yogurt shop that she loves and we talked.”

“Good.” He said. “Did you have a chance to speak to Emma and apologise?”

I groaned. “No.” She was a bit distant and I did not want to push her.

He sighed, exasperated. “Oh George.”

“I know, Dad...”

“Do you, really?” he frowned at me.

“Please...” I whispered, my voice broken. “Don’t.”

“I hate to see you like this, George. I hate that you’ve become a statistic, a 30 something man, divorced, two children. What about the promises you made when you got married? What about the promises you made to yourself?”

“Don’t you know that I know all this? Not only I’ve hurt myself but my family and Emma too! I don’t need you to judge me, Dad. I can do that on my own, Emma can do that all she wants. Why can’t you just comfort me and help me get through this?” I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I did not need to break down in front of my father.

“George, I...”

“You know what, forget it!” I stood up and left the room quickly. I stomped my feet on my way up the stairs and to my room down the corridor.

I opened the door and slammed it behind me.

I paced the floor, my eyes full with tears I did not think I would be able to control. I couldn’t fucking get along with my father even if I was 35. He was so judgmental, always arguing with me with what was best for me.

He questioned me when I expressed my desire to become a lawyer, and my decision to date people when he told me that it was obvious I was in love with Emma when I was a teenager.

I loved the old man, but, I wished that he could be the shoulder I could cry on, sometimes.

I looked around the room that did once belong to the George who left it when he left to go to University more than 15 years before. The walls were still covered in photos I had taken so long ago. Some were taken at concerts, others were simply of the view, others were of Emma, my Emma, who wasn’t mine anymore.

I touched with my finger one of Emma and I when she was 15 and I was 18. Time had passed fast. A part of me was still that smiley George of that photograph. But that young man was also a thing of the past.

Only now I could see Emma’s eyes full with love as she stared at me right in the eyes.

I wanted her to look at me like that again.

How was I suppose to give her space when I was such a control freak?

I plopped myself on the single bed and closed my eyes. Life was not easy.

“Emma, we need to talk.” I told her.

She was surprised to see me, at her office. I hadn’t been there in ages, but I did not care. I needed to speak to her.

“Ehm...okay. Make yourself comfortable. Do you want to go somewhere or...”

“I have no preference. You choose.”

She looked at me confused and shook her head. “Well, we could stay here and later on go to lunch.” She sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Many things.” I told her with a sheepish smile on my face. “The first is that I’m sorry for being a selfish jerk unable to see your needs. I just assumed that you truly agreed with me with everything, and I can see now that I pushed you to do things that maybe you did not want to do, at least not straight away. Could you ever forgive me for misinterpreting your feelings and emotions and for almost obliging you to do certain things?”

She gaped at me, completely taken aback by my confession.

“Emma...?” I asked, a bit worried.

“Yes? Oh...I guess I could forgive you if you show me that you can try and change for the better...”

“Does that mean that—“ I hopefully said, my heart swelling with happiness.

“No. We are not back together, George. Forgive me for not fully trusting you with my heart.”

“Oh.” My voice dropped.

“But your apology was maybe a step in the right direction. I do not know. You just have back your words with facts, George.” She tried to reassure me.

“Do not worry about me.” I smiled sadly at her.

“What else did you want to talk to me about?”

“What is this thing I hear that the house has become some sort of francophone centre?” I frowned at her, a bit irritated.

“I’m not forcing it on them. It’s just that they feel like they speak English all the time and want to practice more their French.” She tried to explain.

I looked at her suspiciously.

She raised her hands in sign of surrender. “I promise, George.”

“Please, don’t turn my kids into little French kids. They’re British, English to be exact.” I implored her.

She rolled her eyes. “You and your British pride.”

“Of course I’m proud of being British. Have you seen all the great things we did?”

“I just would like to remind you that I’m half French and I have both citizenships...so don’t go there.”

“I don’t even know how you can be loyal to both countries. The French are our arch-enemies.” I joked.

She glared at me. “Non plus.” She said in French.

“You don’t know how sexy you are when you speak French, Emma.” I commented.

She avoided my eyes and smiled at my compliment.

This was a step. A step towards the right direction.

Oh. A step towards what I felt was the right direction for me: me and Emma, back together.

Chapter 8

I was stunned. A few weeks had passed since George apologised to me for being a controlling jerk, and he had took my advice and backed his words with actions.

I still couldn’t believe that George finally did understand that this wasn’t a one person relationship and that my role was not to appease him all the time.

I guess it was my fault too, for letting him make all the nig decisions in our relationship. I had allowed him too many times to get his way, for instance, when we entered a friends with benefits relationship that had led me to an almost complete loss of my self esteem, and to distrust him. Thank Lord, those days were over.

I was still confused. I did not understand why he wanted me back. He claimed that he was still in love with me, and although a part of me believed him, it was hard for me to do so completely when I had clear in my mind, as if it had been yesterday, the day when he told me that he did not love me anymore.

And then again, I had to think about Taylor too. Nothing had happened between us, and although I thought I wanted to explore those feelings, I felt that it was unfair because I knew I will always love George, and I would never love anyone the way I love him.

Yes, I was more independent. And yes, I really liked Taylor. However, George would always be the man my heart beats for. And even if we would never get together, and maybe my heart would be able to love someone else, a part of me would always belong to George. My first love. The man I married 12 years previously. The father of my children.

Although he had been a bit controlling when it came to us being a couple, he had always been there when I needed him, and he had been my best friend, and for that I was grateful.

I just hoped that we could be friends as we were in the past again. I would be perfectly content with just a friendship between us.

Years previously...

Shit! This couldn’t be. It couldn’t have happened this fast.

I was only 23, for God’s sake, and I felt like I had no control over my life anymore.

When all my girlfriends spent their time getting wasted, clubbing, and living the true life experience, I was married. Yes, with a man I loved, who wasn’t fond of me going clubbing.

Of course I could go out with my girlfriends as much as I wanted, but George was such a baby and always jealous of other men looking at me.  We’re talking about a man who crushed my hen’s night just to make sure that no one took advantage of his drunken fiancée.

I sometimes missed the independence and freedom, especially since George had been pestering me about having a kid as soon as we were married.

Thank Lord I’d been able to postpone the whole thing for 3 years. I didn’t want to be one of those pregnant uni students. Ridiculous. I wanted a well established career before having babies. When we got married, the ideas of babies crossed my mind as something in the distant future. Something we would have thought about in my late 20s, but of course George did not agree with me.

I still remember our conversation the day after our wedding, in our bed, after a marathon of sex.

He was lying on his stomach between my legs. He kept looking at me in fascination as if that was the first time he’d truly seen me naked. He started giving little kisses to my belly and looked at me strangely. His eyes, shining brightly.

“I guess we’ll have a baby in the next nine months.” His voice full of emotion.

“Nope. We’re not.” I told him a bit harshly.

He stopped caressing me and looked me in the eyes. “Why not?”

“You remember that I’m still a student, right? I want to finish my degree and attempt to establish my career before we even think about kids, George.” I told him the truth.

“But I thought you wanted kids as well. Why else would you stop taking the pill?”

“Because I’m getting a shot, now. I was always afraid I’ll forget the pill, and after the pregnancy scare of the last time, I would try to avoid.”

“Emma...I want a kid. Now. I don’t want to wait. That’s the only thing that is missing in our life. A baby, all ours, created out of our love for each other.” He said, his voice emotional.

I sighed in frustration. “Not now, George. Please....give me at least.....3 years! Yep, three years.”

He looked at me suspiciously. “But....” he protested.

“Three years.”

He sighed in resignation. “You always make me wait, Emma.” He left a butterfly kiss on my navel. “Okay. Three years, not a day more, nor a day less. But that’s as long as I’m willing to wait, Emma. I love you, and I want to have children with you.” He smiled at me, his eyes full of love.

“Children?” I looked at him worried. “Wait...how many do you want?”

“At least 5.” He grinned at me.

“What?! Are you mental?!” I said in fear. “I’m not having 5 kids.”

“Okay, I can be fine with 4.” He moved up so that his lips were a few millimetres from mine. “Deal?”

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Maybe, we’ll see.”

“Three years time.” He whispered before his lips met mine in a passionate kiss that made me want him all over again.

And now three years later I was going to panic big time. I was late, incredibly late. Almost a month late. And I could not understand how I could already be pregnant when we discussed the ‘having a baby’ issue just last week.

Of course I’d tried to tell him that I did not feel ready, and of course George was furious. He did not want to hear it.  He went all cave man on me trying to convince me by seducing me and fucking me like his life depended on it. I knew my husband well enough. Before we started dating, he’d found other ways to get his way, but since we’d become sexually active as a couple, his idea of persuading me was no more with words but by fucking me into submission.

That, for once, didn’t work, and he changed tactic. He pleaded and almost cried, talking about how a baby would make our life together even better.

I told him that I wanted babies but I just felt that it was not the right time, at least not now. I’d finished my master a year previously, and I’d been working only for a year.

He had the audacity to say that it did not matter if I worked or not, because he would take care of me, until the end of time.

I was pissed as I reminded him that I was not going to be one of those housewives letting their men taking care of them. My career was important to me, and I did want to fulfil all my dreams.

That bloody liar. That bloody bastard knew beforehand that that was going to be my reaction. He trapped me!

I stopped getting a shot under his insistence that the three years were always up. So we switched to the pill and later on to condoms.

I hated condoms and so did he. But he had promised me that he would always be careful and wear the cap. And if he didn’t he promised that he was going to take it out just in time. Jerk. He tricked me.

I started shaking with sobs.

I loved kids, but I did not want to have one now. What if I was a horrible mother? What if my kid turned out to be a delinquent because I was crap at parenting?

George found me later on in bed hugging my knees to my chest.

“Em, baby, what’s wrong?” he looked at me worriedly.

“As if you don’t know.” I muttered, sadly.

He sat down next to me and looked at me confused. “Emma, what’s wrong?” his voice full of fear.

“Don’t lie to me, George. You know that I’m late. You know that I’m pregnant and it’s all your fault, you and your fucking games!” I yelled at me and started crying.

He avoided my eyes and smiled happily, sure that I could not see him. How wrong he was.

“Emma...”

“You did it on purpose. You convinced me to change birth controls methods....why don’t you ever listen to what I want, George?” I kept crying.

“Emma, love. I’m sorry. I...I did not think you would feel this way. I thought you would really be happy if you were pregnant.” His voice was full of regret.

“Since when do you think, George? You think only about what you want! What about me?”

“Emma, please, calm down. I’m sorry. I really am, believe me.” he took my chin in his hand and looked me in the eyes. “I love you, I love you so much.”I could see his eyes shining with unshed tears. “Please, Emma...I beg of you, do not kill our baby.” His tears now staining his cheeks. “It was wrong of me to force you like this, but please do not kill our innocent...”

“I would never have an abortion, George. I love you, despite your faults, and although this baby was not planned, at least not on my part, we will keep it. I am just upset at how you tricked me. That’s all.” I told him before kissing him with all I had in me.

Almost 8 months later Darcy Sebastian was born.

“Emma...” I heard George call me.

“Yes?” I answered, my voice hoarse. I turned around and looked at him. He was hotter than ever. His hair a bit longer than usual. I loved it. I just wished I could touch it.

“I trust that you received my text?” he asked, looking at me confused.

“I did. I just forgot to reply.” I smiled sheepishly at him. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, love.” He grinned. “I would send you flowers, but I know that you are not a flower’s girl.”

“Never have been and never will be.” I blushed and avoided his eyes.

“Emma, look at me.” he told me. His voice firm. “I don’t want it to be awkward between us. Please...” he pleaded. “If it makes you feel better I’ll try to stop saying that I love you—“

“No! It’s fine. You can say it if you want to.” I almost yelled.

“Oh. Okay.” He stared at me strangely. “So...have you decided what you’re going to do with Taylor?” his voice took a severe tone. His face flashed with pain and hurt.

We were back to being friends. So I told him what I might feel for Taylor.

“Nope. I will do so soon, though. I mean, we don’t speak openly about it, but...something is...there.”

“If you feel like exploring your feelings for him is the right thing to do, go for it.” He whispered the last part.

“Are you serious?” I asked incredulously.

“Of course, Emma. I want your happiness, and if you’ll be happy with him, who am I to stop you from being happy?” he shrugged with non-chalance.

This was the ultimate test. He let me go. He gave me the ultimate freedom to choose what I wanted, who I wanted.

This was new George. Old George would have preferred dying than saying those words. But this George was showing me as he had done in the past few weeks how much he cared about me. And if he could give me his friendship but at the same time step aside to let another man have me, then maybe, then maybe...

I felt my heart beating fast. So fast that I could feel my breath becoming more and more erratic.

But I was scared shitless. Did I really want to take the risk and be with him, again?

“Merci, George.” I whispered. I gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Taylor...” I held his hands in mine.

“I know why you wanted to see me.” he said, his eyes sad.

“I’m sorry.” I told him. “Don’t think that your feelings are not returned, Taylor. I love you.”

“But you love him more.” He stated simply.

I nodded. Unable to say anything more that would hurt him.

“So will you go back to him?” he inquired, his eyes full of pain.

“I don’t know. Not now, at least. We have to keep consolidating our friendship.....but let’s talk about you...”

“What’s there to say? If you want me out of your life---“

I put a finger in front of his lips. “No. I want you in my life. You’re my friend, Taylor. I don’t want to lose you. I know it sounds incredibly selfish, but...please, do not get out of my life.” I pleaded.

He kissed the finger in front of his mouth. He looked me in the eyes, emotions were running through them.

And then it happened. My arms went around his neck, and his around my waist. And we kissed. A profound, bittersweet kiss. A kiss that expressed the end of something which never really stood a chance.

The kiss lost its intensity. And it ended in little pecks.

“Love you.” He said.

“Love you too, friend.” I smiled, my heart aching at the same time for causing us both pain.

“Goodbye potential girlfriend.” He smiled.

“Goodbye potential boyfriend.” I smiled back.

“Emma, be happy. I want you to be happy. Do it for me because I always knew I could not make you as happy as you could be. Live your life so that I know that the heartache was a good enough sacrifice.”

“I promise I will. In my time.” I took his hand in mine and kissed it. “I’ll see you next week when you come over with Yeoshua.” I told him trying to smile as genuinely as possible.

He accompanied me to the door and let me out.

I sighed, feeling contrasting emotions. I was relieved that I still had my friend, and happy that I now could really see where life could lead me. However, I felt guilty for causing pain to Taylor and pain because a part of me was breaking.

I would get over it in the future. I would be fine. Emma is strong now. Emma can make it through anything.

Chapter 9

I stared at Emma as she was looking at the rabbi celebrating the wedding. Oh Lord, she was so beautiful in her light blue dress, her eyes shining brightly. I could tell she was happy. I was happy. Life was amazing.

The rabbi asked for the rings and Emma passed them to Taylor who was grinning like an idiot. He turned around quickly and focused his eyes on his wife to be: Rachel.

Rachel and Taylor met a few months after Emma and him established that there would never be something more than friendship between them. The guy was still depressed over her, when he met Rachel at a music store. The rest as they say is history.

A year later they were already engaged, and now they were getting married.

Emma was the ‘best man’. She grinned happily as her close friend was getting married, a few tears escaping her eyes when the rabbi pronounced them husband and wife, and the glass was broken.

I wish that was our wedding. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t even close to marrying Emma again. We weren’t even dating.

Yes, it had been almost two years since I’d let Emma go, and she still hadn’t come back to me. I decided not to approach the subject, afraid that I would push her away from me. It was Emma’s call for once. I just hoped I did not have to wait all my life to know whether there was a chance that we would get back together.

“That was an amazing ceremony.” I told her happily.

“Yes, it certainly was. My Taylor got married.” She said proudly.

I rolled my eyes. Now that Taylor was no longer a threat, I had to admit that the guy was okay, but I would always be suspicious of him.

Emma looked at our kids playing with other children in the garden of the wedding venue.

Emilienne was almost 8. And she was beautiful. I was afraid I would need to get a weapon to defend her for stupid guys when she would get older.

Yeoshua, Taylor’s son was her best friend. At least, that’s what I was trying to define it as. Emilienne kept referring to him as her boyfriend. The idea made me cringe.

Darcy was already popular with the ladies in his French school. At the age of 12, he did not care about girls at the moment. He looked exactly like me. The only differences were his hazel eyes, his dark brown hair and his golden skin.

I was glad that his relationship with me was now to its former glory. I was glad to have my son back.

A few hours later I found myself driving my family home. Yes, Emma and I were back to living under the same roof, but unfortunately we were still not sleeping in the same bed.

I was slowly losing hope. Maybe we would never get back together. I had to admit that I was partially happy with how things were between us. We were back to being best friends and although the sexual tension between us was always there, we knew not to go over the invisible boundary that separated us from truly becoming again a couple.

I was happy with Emma being happy, and if this was how she wanted things to be for the rest of our days: fine! I’d have tried to be okay with it. I didn’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past by pushing her. I wanted her to come back to me in her own terms, and because she wanted me to be hers and only hers.

I let her go and she occasionally went on dates with men who were probably better than men. Nothing serious, she always told me. It was just her way of having fun and doing what she could not do in her early 20s because of me.

I’d learned patience. And I hoped that my patience would give her the reassurance she needed.

“Emma?” I asked as I saw her descending the stairs.

“The kids are getting ready for bed.” She smiled at me and plopped down on the living room sofa next to me.

She was now dressed in her pjs. She put her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes.

“What’s wrong, love? Are you tired?”

“A bit. And my feet are killing me.” she sighed, her eyes still closed.

“Do you want me to rub them for you?” I inquired chuckling at her relaxed expression.

“Only if you feel like it.” She whispered.

“I do.”  I took her legs and put them on my lap. I quickly took off her socks and started gently rubbing her feet.

She moaned. “Yep. This is exactly what I need.”

“I’m glad I can be of service, love.” I joked as I kept rubbing her feet.

“Are you ready for our therapy session tomorrow? Probably our last one for a while.”

“I’m always ready for our therapy sessions.” I said, and it was the truth. Dr. Jameson had helped me realise my mistakes and become a better person. I would always be grateful to her.

She yawned. “I guess it’s time for me to go to bed. I’m so glad the wedding drama is over. I don’t want to organise a stag do ever again in my life. And I thought that being the maid of honour was hard.”

“You never told me how the stag weekend in Amsterdam went.”

“I’ve never been that irresponsible in my life. We didn’t even sleep. We started as soon as we arrived in the evening and drank so much we thought we would all have alcohol poisoning. We took some pictures when we were conscious. Taylor was dressed as SpongeBob square pants and I was Patrick the star. We went to a strip club. Can’t really remember much of it other than probably making out with a girl, maybe. Not too sure of that either.” She laughed like crazy at that point. “It was...hilarious.”

I laughed with her. “Now, you making out with a girl. Would have loved to see that.”

She frowned. “You should have come. I don’t know why you didn’t want to.”

“I did not want to spoil the night. I would have probably nagged you about the drinking and all. I wanted to you truly enjoy yourself and be free to do as you wished.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, George.” She yawned again. “Carry me upstairs?”

“Sure.” I grinned.

I picked her up and brought her to the master bedroom which was hers now. I laid her on the bed and covered her with the duvet.

“Stay with me tonight?” she asked half asleep.

I got under the covers and hugged her to me before closing my eyes and feeling content.

“I want you to listen to this song.” I told Emma and Dr. Jameson. “It’s an expression of what I feel for you, Emma. I think that in the last two years I’ve tried to show you every day that my heart beats only for you.”

“So I say oh darling
Please baby love this man
Put your arms around and
We can love together
Stay, let’s be in love
One more time”

“I said it
Now regret it
The crazy, crazy
Goodbye.” I whispered as the singer of Graffiti6 sang.

I looked at Emma and I could see her eyes welling up with tears. Were they happy or sad tears?

As soon as the song was over I asked her worriedly. “Emma, why are you crying? Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m sorry, love.”

She wiped the corner of her eyes. “I’m fine, George. Do not worry. I just...the song is great and I loved it and I’m just surprised by it all.”

I frowned, confused. “Why? I thought I’d made it clear that I would love for you to want me back, I would love to call myself yours once again.” I sighed deeply and looked her in the eyes before making probably the most important speech of my life, more important than all those I did in court. “Emma, I deluded myself for so long. I deluded myself that you wanted to get married when I wanted or that you wanted children when I wanted them. I deluded myself that it was okay for me to push your boundaries and make you do what I felt was the right thing. I deluded myself that I was having it easy and that everything was great. I deluded myself that I did not love you anymore, and that I just wanted sex after we broke up. I was living in a world made of illusions. Not anymore. Since I saw the light, I now know how utterly selfish and discussing I’ve been since we started going out, and in our 10 years of marriage. And after I realised my mistakes, I finally understood that I had to let you go and make you freely come back to me, if that is what you feel is best for yourself, by showing you that I love you and that I could change. I love you Emma Armstrong, I love you so much that I would endure the pain of seeing you with someone else if that someone could make you happy...I just want to know if you would go out on a date with me, if you want. No obligation whatsoever.”  

“Count me in.” She grinned. “A date.”

“Guys....I’m so proud of you.” Dr. Jameson said. I could see her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Thanks.” Emma smiled big. “But remember, we are taking it slow, George. No rush.”

“As you wish, love.” I smiled at her and left a small smile on her cheek.

Epilogue

It was early afternoon in Kensington, London. The house wasn’t quiet as it was supposed to be when their children weren’t present, running around and filling their home with joy and laughter. There was no silence whilst watching television together, or just enjoying the company of each other. Those days were long gone. The silence had been replaced by the endless arguments with a teenage Darcy who was getting rebellious. Now 16, the guy was a force to reckon with. He was still doing great at school, but boy, the guy loved partying and enjoyed chasing after girls.

Emilienne was 13 and although she was still Daddy’s little girl, she argued a lot with George especially when it came to Yeoshua, her boyfriend since they didn’t even know what being a couple entailed.

But beside all the drama, they were a happy family. The drama of the ‘dark years’ as the kids called them was now over, and Emma and George were stronger than ever.

The only sounds you could hear in the house could be heard from the master bedroom where Emma and George were enjoying an afternoon of well deserved sex, where Emma was doing the riding, and George was trying so hard to let her have control.

Things had changed significantly. They were now a real couple after dating for a year and a half. They made the decisions together, and George did not manipulate her most of the time. He still tried sometimes to fuck her into submission, but that never worked. In fact, most of the time he was the one breaking and agreeing with her.

“Shit...” George groaned as he so desperately wanted to control the pace of their love making, but his hands could not moved as they were bonded to the headboard of the bed. “Fuck me for letting you try something new.”

“I’m fucking you, George.” She smirked as she slowed down just to tease him.

George hissed in frustration and met his wife’s movement with his hips as hard as he could. Why couldn’t she understand that he wanted her to go faster.

“Faster, Emma.”

“Magic word?” she moaned.

“Please, please, please, Emma. Faster!” he asked exasperatedly.

She stopped completely. “Just because you asked so nicely.” She moved down on him and kissed his lips.” She untied his hands and that was the beginning of the end of their session.

A few minutes later a out of breath George looked at his exhausted Emma and grinned. “I thought about what you said.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I did. And you’re right. We should go on a weekend trip. Just the two of us.”

“See? I’m always right.”

“But I don’t want Emilienne to stay with the Scott’s when we are gone.”

“Okay.” She grinned excitedly. “By the way, I have to tell you something.”

“Go on.” He told her as he was now on top of her and opened her legs for another round.

“I love you, George.”

“I love you too, Emma-bear.” He smiled back at her. “And I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“And that is exactly why I’m late. I guess we will be responsible for the overpopulation of the globe, after all.”

He grinned broadly and kissed her deeply. “And you’re okay with it?”

She thought about it for a moment. “I guess I am. At least this time it was both our faults. I’m glad you did not trick me.”

“Of course I did not, Mrs. Ferguson.” And they went at it again.