Steam rises from Emily's homemade lasagna like a fog, the scent of garlic and basil filling the dining room. I'm painfully aware of Holly's knee occasionally brushing mine under the table, deliberate touches that make me tense each time. Three days ago, she screamed that I was "broken" for enjoying Emily's video. Now she acts like nothing happened.
"This is incredible," I say, savoring another bite of Emily's cooking.
My body responds to both women's presence with embarrassing predictability. It's like my dick has developed its own consciousness, constantly ready regardless of which one of them is near me.
Emily beams at the compliment, her blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "I'm so glad you like it, baby. I wanted tonight to be special."
"Special?" I ask, glancing between them. Holly's expression remains neutral behind those wire-rimmed glasses, but there's something calculating in her gaze.
Emily dabs her mouth with her napkin, a gesture so elegant it reminds me again of the vast differences in our backgrounds. "Yes," she begins, her voice taking on that tone that means she's been planning this conversation. "Holly and I were talking, and we both think it's a good idea for you to get your GED."
I pause mid-chew, genuinely surprised. "Yeah?"
Holly adjusts her glasses with that precise gesture I've come to recognize. "You were in two AP classes with me, Daniel," she says, her voice carrying that academic authority she slips into when discussing intellectual matters. "You're clearly too smart to be a high school dropout forever."
The compliment catches me off guard, especially coming from her. I laugh, setting down my fork. "Yeah, I guess so."
Emily's smile widens, excitement evident in her expression. "So that made me think, maybe you don't need classes at all." She glances at Holly, something passing between them that I can't quite interpret. "Maybe you could just study with Holly."
My fork freezes halfway to my mouth as I process her words. Study with Holly. Alone.
"Holly's brilliant," Emily continues, oblivious to my internal panic. "Top of her class, and she knows exactly what you need to pass the tests."
Holly's lips curve into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "I'd be happy to help, Daniel. We could start tomorrow, if you'd like."
I swallow hard, looking between them. Emily's face shines with such genuine hope and pride that it makes my chest ache. She has no idea what she's suggesting, what she's pushing me toward.
"That sounds..." I struggle to find words that won't betray the turmoil inside me. "That sounds really kind."
Holly picks at her lasagna with her fork, then looks at me with those calculating eyes. "Plus, if you never got your GED, you'd basically be bumming off my mom for the rest of your life."
The sound of metal hitting porcelain cuts through the dining room as Emily's fork slips from her fingers, clattering onto her plate. I glance over to find her face frozen in an expression I can't quite place, something like shock mixed with... disappointment? Her eyes dart between Holly and me, and for a split second, I catch a glimpse of something that looks unsettlingly like regret.
It's as though Holly just pointed out an angle Emily hadn't considered.
Emily takes a deep breath, setting her napkin down beside her plate with deliberate care. "Actually, you know what..." she says, her voice suddenly uncertain. "Maybe we're rushing this, Danny."
I glance up from my plate, caught off guard by her change in tone. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Emily continues, smoothing her hand over the tablecloth, "perhaps we should give it some time. A year, maybe? Let you settle into things here first before adding more pressure."
"A year?" I repeat, genuinely confused by this sudden reversal.
Holly's knee presses harder against mine under the table, a warning touch that makes me tense. "Mom, that's ridiculous," she says, her voice sharp with irritation. "Daniel should really try to get his GED as soon as possible."
"I just think…" Emily begins, but Holly cuts her off.
"The longer he waits, the harder it will be," Holly insists, adjusting her glasses. "Statistics show that educational momentum is critical. The success rate drops dramatically with each year of delay."
Emily's fingers tighten around her water glass. "Not everything is about statistics, Holly."
I watch their back-and-forth like a tennis match, feeling increasingly like a pawn being moved across a chessboard I can't fully see.
"Daniel," Emily says, turning to me with an intensity that makes my breath catch, "don't you think it might be nice to just... enjoy where we are right now? Without the pressure of tests and studying?"
There's something desperate in her eyes that reminds me of our conversation about not getting a driver's license. Her hand reaches across the table for mine, fingers trembling slightly.
"If I want a better job than Quick Mart, I'll need that GED eventually," I say carefully, watching Emily's expression fall slightly. "It's not like I can stock energy drinks forever."
Emily's fingers dance nervously on the tablecloth. "Well, you could just... quit," she offers, her voice soft but eager. "We've talked about this before, remember? You don't actually need to work at all."
Holly makes a strangled noise, setting her fork down with a clatter. "Mom, are you seriously trying to turn Dan into some kind of house-husband who does absolutely nothing all day?" Her voice drips with judgment.
Emily's face flushes a deep crimson, spreading from her cheeks down her elegant neck. Her eyes widen as she fixates on the word Holly just used.
"Husband?" she repeats, the word hanging in the air between us like a tangible thing. Her gaze shifts to meet mine, something vulnerable and hopeful flickering in those blue depths. "Well... It's not like I haven't considered it, Danny."
Heat rushes to my face so fast I feel light-headed. The dining room suddenly seems too small, too hot, the lasagna on my plate forgotten as Emily's implication sinks in. Marriage. She's thought about marrying me.
"Emily, I..." My voice catches, throat suddenly dry. "I'm not sure I'm good enough for you to marry."
The words escape before I can filter them, raw and honest in a way that makes me want to sink through the floor. But Emily's expression softens, her embarrassment transforming into something tender and fierce.
"Don't say that," she whispers, reaching across the table to take my hand. Her fingers are cool against my burning skin. "Don't ever say that."
"Absolutely not!" Holly's voice cuts through the moment like a knife, sharp with panic. "You two can absolutely not get married."
I turn to her, startled by the raw desperation in her tone. Her face has drained of color, those wire-rimmed glasses slightly askew as she stares at us with wide eyes.
Emily's hand tightens around mine. "Why not?" she asks, her voice deceptively calm, but I can feel the tension radiating from her.
Holly's mouth opens and closes, like she's searching for words that won't come. Her eyes dart frantically between us as she adjusts her glasses with trembling fingers. I've never seen her so rattled, so stripped of her usual calculating confidence.
"Because... Uhhh," she starts, then stops. Swallows hard. "Because I don't want a younger sibling I'd have to help raise."
The words hang in the air, bizarre and unexpected. My face burns even hotter, the implication of her statement hitting me like a physical blow. Children. With Emily. The thought has never even crossed my mind.
"A baby?" I manage to stammer, my voice coming out higher than intended.
Emily sighs softly, turning those clear blue eyes to me. There's something sad in her expression, a quiet resignation that makes my chest ache.
"My tubes are tied, Danny," she says gently, her thumb stroking across my knuckles. "If you want kids, it might be... difficult."
The weight of her confession settles between us. I can see vulnerability in her eyes, fear that this revelation might change something between us. As if the possibility of not having biological children could somehow diminish what we have.
"I just want you," I tell her, the words flowing from somewhere deep and honest inside me. "That's all I've ever wanted."
Relief washes over Emily's face, her eyes brightening with unshed tears. She brings my hand to her lips, pressing a kiss against my palm.
"This is fucking disgusting."
Holly slams her fork down so hard that lasagna sauce splatters across the pristine tablecloth. She shoves her chair back with a screech that sets my teeth on edge and stands up, trembling with rage. Her finger jabs toward me like a weapon.
"Tomorrow," she announces, her voice vibrating with barely controlled fury. "We are starting your GED prep. No more excuses."
Her accusatory finger swivels to Emily, who shrinks back slightly in her chair.
"And NO marriage." Each word lands like a hammer blow. "Absolutely not. Never."
Before either of us can respond, Holly storms out of the dining room. Her footsteps echo down the hallway like gunshots until her bedroom door slams with enough force to rattle the dishes on the table.
Silence falls between Emily and me, thick and uncomfortable. The steam from the lasagna has stopped rising, the food cooling and forgotten.
Emily sighs, her shoulders slumping. "This must be very difficult for her," she says softly, pushing a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear. "Having her mother date someone her own age."
I nod, reaching for my water glass. "Yeah," I agree, but the words taste like a lie on my tongue.
In my head, I know the truth is much simpler and much darker. Holly doesn't care about the age gap. She doesn't care about my education or Emily's happiness. She just wants control over me. The GED is just another leash, another way to keep me exactly where she wants me.
I take a long drink, gathering my thoughts before setting the glass down carefully.
"Hey, Emily?"
She looks up, her blue eyes tired but attentive. "Yeah?"
The question I've been turning over in my mind for days now feels suddenly urgent.
"Did you take Tylenol while you were pregnant with Holly?"
"What do you mean?"