The chandelier above our table sparkles like a frozen waterfall, casting diamonds of light across the white tablecloth where my fingers drum an anxious rhythm. Emily's thigh presses against mine under the table, warm and solid, the only anchor keeping me from floating away on a tide of panic.
"Stop fidgeting," Emily whispers, her lips brushing my ear. "You look like you're about to rob the place."
I force my hands to be still, but the nervous energy just redirects itself to my right leg, which starts bouncing under the table. Emily reaches over and intertwines her fingers with mine, her touch instantly calming the storm inside me.
"It's going to be fine, baby," she murmurs, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze.
I glance at my watch, 6:58 p.m. Jessica will be here any minute, punctual as always. The thought makes my throat tighten.
"What if she hates you?" I blurt out, immediately regretting the words.
Emily's eyebrows rise slightly, but her smile doesn't waver. "Then she hates me," she says with a casual shrug that somehow makes her look even more elegant in her midnight blue dress. "But that won't change how I feel about you."
The restaurant door swings open, and I don't need to look to know it's Jessica, I can feel her presence like a change in air pressure. My spine straightens automatically.
"There she is," I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.
Emily follows my gaze, her expression revealing nothing as she studies my aunt crossing the restaurant floor. Jessica looks exactly as I expected, charcoal pantsuit, hair pulled back in that severe bun, spine straight enough to make a drill sergeant proud. The hostess leads her toward our table with the careful deference of someone escorting royalty.
"Daniel," Jessica says as she approaches, her voice crisp as freshly ironed linen. Her eyes slide to Emily, narrowing slightly as she takes in the silver braid, the clear blue eyes, the undeniable beauty that somehow seems to intensify under scrutiny.
"Aunt Jessica," I manage, rising awkwardly from my chair. "This is Emily. Emily, this is my aunt Jessica."
Emily extends her hand, her smile warm and confident. "It's lovely to finally meet you. Daniel has told me so much about you."
Jessica's handshake is brief, professional. "Funny, he's told me almost nothing about you."
A flash of tension crosses Emily's face, her smile never faltering but something hardening behind her eyes.
"That's hardly surprising," Emily says, her voice carrying a hint of silk-wrapped steel. "Danny mentioned he hasn't spoken much with you in months. Hard to share details about someone's life when you're not regularly in touch."
The words hang in the air like smoke. Jessica's expression freezes, her mouth tightening at the corners as the subtle accusation lands precisely where Emily intended.
"Please, sit down," Emily continues smoothly, gesturing to the empty chair across from us. "We've ordered a bottle of Cabernet. I hope that's acceptable?"
Jessica sinks into the chair, her posture rigid as a granite statue. "I don't drink before eight p.m."
"How sensible," Emily replies, her smile never wavering. "Danny mentioned you're very disciplined."
I shift uncomfortably, acutely aware of how close Emily's thigh is pressing against mine and how Jessica's eyes keep darting to our joined hands on the table. I've never felt more like a prize being fought over by two apex predators.
"So," Jessica says, unfolding her napkin with surgical precision, "Daniel tells me you own your home. That's quite an accomplishment in this market."
The question sounds innocent enough, but I recognize the interrogation technique, start with a compliment before moving in for the kill.
"I've been fortunate with my investments," Emily answers smoothly. "Day trading has been very good to me, especially in volatile markets."
Jessica's eyebrow arches so slightly it's barely perceptible. "Day trading? Fascinating. Most traders lose money in the long run. You must have quite the system."
"I have excellent instincts for recognizing value where others miss it. Just like with Danny."
I nearly choke on the water I've just sipped. Jessica's eyes narrow to dangerous slits.
Jessica clears her throat, her eyes never leaving Emily as she redirects her attention to me. "Speaking of value, Daniel, when exactly are you planning to complete your high school education? I assume that's still on your agenda."
The question lands like a grenade at our table. I feel Emily tense beside me, her fingers tightening almost painfully around mine.
"I, uh..." My voice catches in my throat. I'm trapped between Jessica's expectations and Emily's reaction. "I've been thinking about getting my GED."
Emily's face instantly transforms, all emotion draining away like water down a sink. Her fingers, so warm and reassuring a moment ago, turn to ice against mine.
"Actually," she says, her voice flat and mechanical, completely devoid of the warmth it held seconds before, "Danny and I have discussed this thoroughly. We've decided together that it would be better for him to postpone pursuing his GED for at least a year."
The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. Jessica's eyes widen slightly, then narrow with dangerous precision.
"Really?" Jessica's gaze shifts to me, razor-sharp and expectant. "And why would that be a good idea, Daniel?"
I open my mouth, but Emily speaks before I can form words.
"Danny needs time to adjust to his new living situation," she continues in that same emotionless tone. "We believe rushing into educational commitments would be counterproductive to his emotional well-being."
Jessica's face contorts into something between disbelief and disgust. Her eyes dart between Emily and me, her mouth set in a hard line.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," she says, her voice cutting through the restaurant's ambient noise like a scalpel. "Are you his mother or his girlfriend? Because I'm getting a seriously twisted atmosphere from this relationship."
Emily's face breaks into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. Emily leans forward, placing her elbows delicately on the table.
"I'm whatever Daniel needs me to be. His girlfriend first and foremost, of course. But if he wants me to nurture him like a mother would..." She shrugs one elegant shoulder, the movement making the diamonds at her ears catch the light. "I don't mind fulfilling that role too. Some young men need that kind of care."
My face burns so hot I'm surprised the water in my glass doesn't start boiling. Jessica's mouth drops open slightly before snapping shut, her jaw clenched so tight I can almost hear her teeth grinding.
"That's not…" I start, but Emily's hand finds my thigh under the table, her fingers digging in with surprising strength.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby," Emily continues, her tone dripping with maternal affection that makes me want to slide under the table and disappear. "Many successful relationships have caretaking dynamics."
Jessica's eyes go wide with alarm. "You're isolating him," she says, her voice cutting through the restaurant noise like a chainsaw. "This whole setup, moving him in, making him postpone his education, controlling who he talks to, you're systematically making him completely dependent on you."
My stomach drops as her words seem to have some merit.
Emily leans forward, her face a perfect mask of concern. "I'm trying to make him happy," she says, her voice soft but firm. "Something his actual family never managed to do."
The jab lands with precision. Jessica flinches before her professional mask hardens again.
"Happy?" Jessica laughs, the sound brittle as breaking glass. "You're molding him into something you can control. And when you're done, when he's completely lost himself, you'll discard him. He'll be left with nothing. No education, no skills, no independence." She leans across the table, her eyes locked on Emily's. "He'll just be another loser you've created, a monster of your own making."
The word "monster" echoes in my head like a gunshot.
Emily goes perfectly still beside me, like a statue carved from ice. For a heartbeat, I think she might actually launch herself across the table at Jessica.
Instead, her face transforms, all that cold fury melting into something softer, almost vulnerable. She reaches for my hand again, her fingers trembling slightly as they find mine.
"What can I do?" Emily asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "What would prove to you that I'm committed to Danny's happiness and future?"
Jessica scoffs, crossing her arms. "Nothing. There's nothing you could…"
"I love him," Emily interrupts, her voice cracking with emotion that sounds too raw to be fabricated. "More than I've ever loved anyone. Tell me what would convince you."
The restaurant seems to fade away around us, the clink of silverware and murmur of conversation becoming distant background noise as these two women stare each other down across the pristine tablecloth.
Emily suddenly turns to face me, those clear blue eyes swimming with tears. My breath catches in my throat at the naked emotion I see there.
"Danny," she says, taking both my hands in hers, "would you be willing to marry me? This week?"
My heart stops, then restarts at double speed. The question hangs in the air between us, impossible and perfect all at once. I search her face for any sign of manipulation, any hint that this is just another move in her game with Jessica, but all I see is love, pure, terrified, hopeful love.
"Of course," I hear myself say, the words rushing out before I can even process them fully. "Yes. Absolutely yes."
Jessica's face contorts into an expression of pure horror. "For the love of God!" she exclaims, her hands flying up like she's warding off evil spirits. "Daniel, you can't be serious!"
"Think about it," Emily says, her voice steady as she addresses Jessica while keeping her eyes on me. "Danny has absolutely nothing to his name, no assets, no property. I don't benefit financially from this marriage in any way. The only thing I gain is making our love official."
The confidence in her voice makes my chest swell with emotion. She's right, she has everything, and I have nothing. Yet here she is, wanting me anyway.
Jessica leans across the table, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You could try to baby-trap him, extort child support when you inevitably divorce him."
The suggestion is so ridiculous I almost laugh, but Emily's expression remains perfectly composed.
"My tubes are tied," she states matter-of-factly. "And I already have a daughter."
The silence that follows is deafening. Jessica's mouth falls open, her eyes widening to an almost comical degree.
"Excuse me?" Jessica finally manages, her voice rising an octave. "A daughter? You have a daughter?" Her gaze swivels to me. "Did you know about this?"
I nod, swallowing hard. "Yes, of course I know about Holly."
"Holly," Jessica repeats, the name sounding foreign on her tongue. She stares at Emily with renewed scrutiny. "How old is this daughter of yours?"
Emily takes a slow sip of her wine before answering. "Nineteen."
The color drains from Jessica's face so rapidly I'm worried she might faint. Her hand grips the edge of the table, knuckles whitening.
"Nineteen," she echoes, her voice hollow. "The same age as Daniel."
"Yes," Emily confirms, setting down her glass with a delicate clink. "They actually went to high school together."
"Daniel Anderson," she says, each syllable sharp as broken glass, "you are being exactly as stubborn as your mother. Exactly the same blind, self-destructive stubbornness that ruined her life."
Something inside me snaps. The comparison to my mother hits a raw nerve that's been exposed for too long.
"I'm nothing like Mom," I say, my voice low but vibrating with intensity. "Nothing. Mom destroyed herself with drugs and refused to get help with her cancer when she still had the chance. I'm trying to build something real with Emily."
Jessica leans across the table, her perfectly manicured finger pointing straight at my heart. "This is exactly how your mother talked when she claimed she was in love with your father. 'I'm building something real with him,'" she mimics, her voice taking on a mocking, desperate quality. "'He understands me like no one else does.' And look how that turned out!"
I exhale heavily, feeling like my entire body is collapsing under the weight of this confrontation. It's all too much.
"Aunty, I'm done." My voice comes out steady despite the exhaustion seeping through every part of me. "You wanted to meet Emily. You've met her. But I'm not breaking up with her, no matter what you say."
Jessica's face hardens, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Daniel, please. I just don't want to see you get hurt. This whole situation…"
"I won't let him get hurt," Emily interjects, her voice soft but firm as steel. Her hand finds mine under the table, warm and steady. "I love your nephew more than I've ever loved anyone."
I straighten my shoulders, finding strength in Emily's touch. "I'm old enough to make my own decisions now. You can't stop us."
Jessica's eyes flash with a sudden, volcanic rage I've never seen before. Her professional mask shatters completely, revealing something primal and wounded beneath.
"Fine!" she shouts, slamming both palms on the table hard enough to make the silverware jump and nearby diners turn their heads. "You want to throw your life away? Be my fucking guest, Daniel!"
She stands so abruptly her chair nearly topples backward, trembling with fury as she glares down at us. The restaurant has gone eerily quiet, dozens of eyes watching our family drama unfold like some twisted dinner theater.
"Your mother was exactly the same," Jessica continues, her voice cracking with emotion. "Stubborn, self-destructive, completely blind to the damage she was doing to herself." Her finger stabs the air between us. "Your whole bloodline is unsalvageable. I tried with your mother. I tried with you. I'm done."
She snatches her purse from the back of her chair, knuckles white around the strap. Without another word, Jessica turns and storms toward the exit, her heels striking the floor like gunshots in the hushed restaurant.
I stare after her, a strange emptiness spreading through my chest where panic had been moments before. The last connection to my past, to my family, just walked out of my life. I should feel devastated. Instead, I feel... nothing.
"Danny?" Emily's voice pulls me back to the present, her hand squeezing mine gently. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, but the words feel hollow, like I'm speaking from the bottom of a well. I stare at the restaurant door where Jessica disappeared, trying to process what just happened.
Emily's eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my skin tingle. There's something hungry in her gaze, something possessive and triumphant.
"Let's eat fast and then go home," she says, her voice dropping to that honey-sweet register that makes my pulse quicken. Her fingers trace patterns on my wrist, featherlight and deliberate. "Mommy will make you feel better."
The words hang between us, pregnant with promise. I should be embarrassed, we're in public, surrounded by people who could easily overhear, but all I feel is a strange, floating sensation, like I'm untethered from everything except Emily.
I look at her, really look at her, and wonder if Jessica might be right about one thing. Am I giving Emily too much control? Too much of my independence? The thought flickers briefly before dissolving like sugar in hot coffee.
Because the truth is, something about Emily just fills my heart with pure bliss. When I'm with her, the constant anxiety that's been my lifelong companion quiets to a manageable whisper. She makes me feel safe in a way I never have before.
I smile warmly at her, reaching across the table to touch her cheek. "That sounds fun," I say, meaning it completely.