“It sounds heavenly,” Grace told her. She paused. “You’re still going to watch Sammy for us every once in a while, though? He loves you.”
“Of course I’ll watch Sammy,” Emma assured her. “Nothing’s changed.”
“Okay,” Grace said, sounding relieved. “I just don’t know what we’d do without you. I don’t want you getting all fancy and forgetting about us.”
“Never,” Emma promised.
The waitress came to take their order and the conversation moved to Emma describing how seasick she had gotten sailing, and how sweet and normal Jackson was. She wanted Grace to know that Jackson wasn’t some immortal god summoned from on high. He was just a normal man, even if he was a god in the sack.
The two enjoyed breakfast before Grace got a call that Sammy needed her. Grace gave Emma a hug.
“Okay, make sure you call me this week,” Grace reminded her with an extra long hug. “Your mom would be so happy for you.”
The comment nearly knocked Emma over. “What?”
“Do you remember when we were kids? We’d play dress-up and you always wanted to be the knight instead of the princess,” Grace said, her eyes going distant as she went back in time. “Your mom always said that was good, that you should be your own hero. You didn’t want anything to do with princes. She said that you should fall in love with the man and not because he was the knight in shining armor. Love matters, not who is the prince.”
As Grace said the words, Emma could hear her mother’s voice. The soft scent of freshly washed linen that her mother always smelled like hit her hard.
Emma’s throat tightened.
“And now, you picked a prince because he likes you, not because he’s a prince. Your mom would be happy for you,” she repeated.
Shame hit Emma square in the stomach and sh
e felt like she might throw up. But, she had to keep up the appearance. It was critical that she maintain that she and Jackson were in love and that’s why they were dating.
“Thank you, Grace,” Emma whispered, struggling to keep herself under control. “I’ll see you soon.”
Grace gave her one more hug before hurrying off to care for her young son. Emma stared after her, her heart aching in her chest. She quickly left the restaurant, her thoughts flying in all directions.
Emma didn’t go home. She didn’t go up to Jackson’s and she didn’t go to her new place. Instead, she went to the cemetery to see her mom and dad. For the first time since signing the contract, she was starting to regret her decision.
The cemetery was peaceful and quiet. Big, tall oak tress dotted the edges and the white tombstones stood at attention as she walked in. Guilt pulled at her feet as she made her way along the paths to where her parents rested. She hadn’t come in far too long.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” Emma stood before two gravestones. They were simple and small, but they were a mark on the world that her parents had been here.
She sat down on the green grass between them and sighed.
“So, it’s been a while, and I’m sorry about that,” she started. She took a deep breath. “I need to know that you’re okay with this. I’m going to marry him. I’m going to have his baby. I know it’s a terrible plan, especially given his reputation, but I agreed to it.”
Her parents said nothing.
“What I’m really worried about is that I’m developing feelings for him.” Emma’s throat tightened. “I really, really like him. Possibly even love him, though it’s been so fast and it’s not part of the deal. What if he humiliates me? What if he doesn’t love me back? What if he leaves me and I have to watch him break my heart because it’s in the contract?”
Tears trickled down Emma’s face. She didn’t know what her mother would say here. Her mother had died when she was ten. It was old enough to have wonderful memories, but young enough to have missed out on all the parts of growing past childhood.
She never had a discussion with her mother about boys, other than to say that Bobby Neelson had cooties. Jackson probably had cooties too, but it was a different kind of conversation.
Emma looked over at her dad’s tombstone. After Mom died, he’d shut down. He had made sure that Emma had the physical necessities and did well in school, but his heart was gone. He’d died of a heart attack her sophomore year of college.
If he had anything to say, it would be to have safe sex. Which she wasn’t, and that was kind of the point and the problem.
“I could use a sign,” she whispered. She wasn’t sure what her parents would think of this. She was sure if they knew the whole story that they wouldn’t approve. But what about the story they told the public? Would her mom be pleased she was marrying a billionaire? That Emma had chosen a prince after all?
She sighed and waited. The wind ruffled the grass, but there was no wise answer. Her mother’s ghost didn’t appear and tell her that everything was going to be okay. There was no message from beyond the grave that she was doing the right thing or that she should run away as fast as possible.
It made Emma’s heart hurt that much more.