I unceremoniously dropped my rugby cleats by the door and peeled off my sweat-soaked shirt. It had been over a month since I'd played and my body felt it. I meant to dive straight into the shower, but I froze a the sight of Emma working at the kitchen table.

She was typing on her laptop and—for a brief moment—I had a hope she was writing again.

It'd been nearly a month since she'd come home, and while things still weren't exactly "normal" they were better. Emma got out of bed with me in the mornings and ate regular meals. She'd even started going to grief counseling twice a week and started calling her mum regularly again.

It was all good—definitively better than it had been by any measure—but I still couldn't shake the feeling that it was Emma simply going through the motions of life rather than living it.

My chest deflated slightly as I noticed it wasn't her notebook sitting on the table beside her but a stack of financial documents.

She glanced up at me and smiled. It was a good attempt, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"I was about to call the solicitor," she said as way of greeting. "To check that I don't have to make any special adjustments because our contract.

"I know its expiration doesn't matter to us," she added somewhat cheekily. "But it might to the government."

The solicitor.

The contract.

"Tax filings were due two weeks ago," I mumbled as the implications of her words slowly sunk in.

A wave of panic flooded my system. I'd only just gotten her back—Not even fully yet.

Emma nodded at her computer. "Yeah, I... I'm still having a hard time keeping track of dates and... time. There's a penalty, but I can still file. But I think I need to do it soon or the penalty will just get worse, so I-I was going to call the solicitor to ask—"

"No."

Emma blinked several times and then glanced up at me. Her eyes scanned me up and down, apparently taking in my tensed muscles because she lifted her fingers from the keyboard and leaned back into her chair. "Tom?"

"You can't—" I closed my eyes and tried to focus the dizzying whir of thoughts pummeling my brain. "I need to tell you something."

"Tom?" I heard her ask again, this time barely above a whisper. "You're scaring me."

My chest rattled as I released the breath I'd been holding. I nodded once, opened my eyes, and then forced myself to walk over to her.

She was still sitting in her chair, one knee raised to her chest, her eyes wide and on me.

I kneeled in front of her, trying to find the right words to explain to her to make her understand what I'd done and why I'd done it.

"It's about the contract," I said finally.

Emma merely waited for me to go on.

I cleared my throat and looked down. "Well, you and I—we said six months, but the contract itself never specified..."

A sharp intake of breath caused my eyes flick back to search hers.

"Y-You mean the contract—It's..."

"Indefinite," I nodded solemnly. "Yeah."

Her brow furrowed as her eyes shifted between mine as if studying my face could somehow make the situation make more sense.

Suddenly a bark of laughter burst from her chest. I watched mutely as her chest racked with the convulsions.

It took her a full minute to settle her breathing enough to choke out: "It wasn't a prenup at all, was it?"

I shook my head no.

The laughter dissipated from her eyes as she suddenly put the pieces together.

"It's a—" she started but stopped. "That's how I was allowed at family dinners. It's a marriage contract."

My eyes scanned her face for any hint of a reaction, but her expression was utterly blank. "Civil union, technically."

"So we're... we're married then?"

I swallowed. "Well technically... the term would be domestic partnership."

Emma's eyes widened as she began to shake her head in what I now recognized to be disbelief.

"Emma, I'm so sorry," I pleaded as I covered her hands in mine. "I-I should've told you. I never should have done it without your—"

"Consent," she breathed still unblinking.

At the word, I immediately dropped her hands and fell back on to my heels.

"Yeah," I whispered.

She shifted her gaze to the window and sucked her lips between her teeth. I was too afraid to say anything more. Besides, I had held on to this secret for near on eight months. I could damn well give Emma however much time she needed to process it.

So we sat there. Silently.

I have no idea how much time had passed when Emma suddenly shook her head.

When she spoke her voice was so soft, I had to lean forward to hear it.

"I know I should feel mad at you, but..."

She bit her lip as her gaze fell down to meet mine. She shrugged.

I hesitated, unsure if she needed or even wanted prompting. "So... how do you feel?"

She stared at me for a moment and then nodded, as if she had been sorting through various descriptors and finally settled on the correct one.

"Relieved."

My chest nearly burst as my shaking hands reached out for hers once more. "R-really?"

She squeezed my hands in hers and nodded once more. "Yeah."

Then of all things—she giggled.

"And that Alice would get a real kick out of this if she were here."

And just like that she began blinking madly to try and bat away the glisten of tears.

I squeezed her hand back. "Yeah, she would."

I hesitated. Alice was a subject Emma typically avoided. It was easier, I think, for her to compartmentalize her grief to her counseling sessions and focus the remainder of her time on moving through her routines.

"You think she'd have given me her blessing?"

Emma let out a throaty laugh as she wiped away a fallen tear. "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

She sniffed and then arched her brow expectantly. "Can you juggle?"

I shook my head, no. "Unfortunately my ability to catch projectiles is limited to the rugby pitch."

"How about magic tricks?"

"I have been told on occasion that I am a wizard with spreadsheets."

Emma simply tsk-ed at that.

"Sorry," I couldn't help but grin. "I seem to be distinctly unqualified to marry you."

She lifted and then dropped her shoulder. "I guess it's a good thing it's technically a civil union then."

I bloody lost it then.

I practically fell into her lap laughing so hard my sides ached with sharp pains. I only noticed I'd started crying when Emma cupped my face in her hands and used her thumbs to brush them away.

I closed my eyes and shuttered at her gentle touches. When I opened them again, she was a blurry figure through the sea of my tears.

"I really missed you, Love."

Emma nodded as her own face dampened.

"Me too..." She sniffed. "Thank you for waiting for me."

I shook my head. I would've waited forever for her.

"I love you, Emma Henderson."

She smiled with her eyes. "I love you, too."

"So... does all this mean you forgive me?"

She bit her lip as she considered me. Those were the longest seconds of my life.

Her jaw set in a determination I hadn't seen since Alice—since the summer even, when she slipped the ring from the chain around her neck...

"I have conditions."

"Anything."

❤️