I have been walking on eggshells around Blake. Considering that we live together in a small apartment, it's been really hard. I went to sleep last night with my back to him and this morning when I was getting ready for office, he didn't even get up from the bed.

He has already missed a couple of days of his classes when we were back in New Jersey, but when he snoozed his alarm this morning, I didn't push for him to go to class. It's been hard to actually back off because I hate, absolutely hate how he's just adapting unhealthy habits one after another but there isn't much I can do.

Because I didn't have time this morning, I didn't pack myself lunch. Instead, I went to grab brunch at this new place around the corner. It's a decision I've been regretting since the moment I've stepped back into the office.

"You don't look so good." Frank points out, sitting opposite to me in Ron's office.

We're going over a new project that needs to be approved by the department for quarterly budget. I clear my throat, sitting up straighter to hide the nausea that's taking over me.

"I'm fine." I smile to seem more convincing.

"Are you sure?" Ron also looks suspicious. "Don't you dare throw up on those files."

I roll my eyes which turns out to be a huge mistake with the nausea because I close the file and keep it on the desk, "It's good to know you're concerned more about the papers."

"What's wrong with you?" Frank asks, sounding more curious than worried.

"I think it's that terrible place you suggested." I glare at him. "I've been having terrible cramps since I came back."

"Do you mean that new Italian place?" Ron's eyes move between the two of us.

"Yeah." I nod, my hand going to my belly to ease out another cramp that takes over. "Fuck. This is too bad. Give me a minute, guys."

I notice the way Frank and Ron exchange looks amongst themselves before the latter turns to me, "You should go home. Sleep through this."

"Do you think I can sleep through this?" I arch a brow at him.

"Okay, then you should rest." Frank insists. "He's right. You wouldn't be able to work like this anyways."

I take their words into account. Normally, I would be delighted to head back home early but today, even with these horrible cramps and nausea, I don't know if I want to go back home.

"I'm giving you half-day off, go!" Ron waves his hand. "No more vacations for the entire month though, you weren't here last week either."

"Why do you think I don't wanna go back home? I can't afford another leave." I close my eyes to breathe through the pain.

"I'm permitting it." Ron nods at me in understanding. "Did you drive today?"

"No."

"I'll book you a cab. Now, go! Collect your things."

After he gets my address, I move to my office and collect my bag. I thank Ron for giving me the half-day off before heading for the cab. When the car is in motion, I genuinely start feeling sick, like I would throw up any moment. There's nothing more I hate than that feeling.

But I breathe through it, keeping the window down to let the cold air bring me some calm. The driver does give me looks but I ignore him. He can suffer the cold for a while instead of having a passenger throw up in his car.

When I reach home, I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't to find Blake lounging on our couch, sipping what looks his third beer. Not only is he day-drinking, he's drinking alone in our trashed living room. I try to hide my disappointment when I shut the front door behind me.

He looks up, a little alarmed with a new presence but then he relaxes when he realises it's me. I don't even get a hello now because he goes back to watching the football game. Fucking great. What are we? A 50-something old married couple who live like strangers under the same roof?

"You're home early." He points out and I bite my tongue to prevent snapping at him.

"Yup." I seethe through my teeth, removing my coat before getting myself a cold glass of water.

It calms my inside slightly, helping with the nausea. I don't talk to him either, my chest practically hurting from the distance I feel between the two of us. If he doesn't even care to ask why I'm home early, I'm not going to bother telling him.

I go inside the bedroom, slamming the door behind myself as I move to get myself a change of clothes. I need my comfort clothes, sweatpants and one of his hoodies. Even though cramps hit me one after another, I manage to unbutton my blouse. But then the nausea overwhelms me, my insides churning.

I quickly rush to the bathroom when I feel myself gagging. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I empty out my stomach as I throw up horribly, my cramps subsiding for a moment.

"Emma?" I hear Blake's panicked voice behind me but I close my eyes when I feel it happening again. He's by my side in a second, holding back my hair as he rubs my back. "What the hell."

"Go away." I pull away from his touch, my body feeling too weak from all the throwing up.

I get up from the bathroom floor, flushing the toilet and moving to the sink. I feel slightly better from the nausea after throwing up but the cramps hit me again when I wash my face.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" Blake's voice is laced with both confusion and panic which sounds ironically hilarious to me right now.

"What do you care?" I scoff at him before pulling out the mouth wash to get rid of the horrible taste.

"Don't be like that. Talk to me." He holds my elbow to make me face him.

"Now you want to talk?" I scowl at him.

"Emma, please." He takes a step closer to me, pulling me to himself and I try not to break down just because I've been so worried about him. "Tell me, what's wrong? Are you pregnant?"

"No. God, no!" I stare at him in shock. "A girl can't throw up without being pregnant?"

That thought hadn't even crossed my mind but for someone who's assuming the worst, he looks awfully calm right now.

"I just thought—"

"No." I cut him off before he can continue that statement. I wince from the stomach cramp that pushes through. "I ate something bad, it's probably food poisoning."

Well, now he looks worried. I don't do the mistake of rolling my eyes again but I really want to. His hand reaches out to brush my hair aside before the back of he puts his palm on my forehead.

"You're burning up." He points out and then moves me aside to pull out the medication box from the cupboard. "What did you eat?"

"What are you, a doctor now?" I frown at him, only to earn narrowed eyes in return. "Italian brunch."

"C'mon, go change and lie down."

"I can take care of myself." I snap at him, not sure if I wanna bawl my eyes out or scream at him. "Go away, Blake. I don't need you."

"Ouch." He mocks my words. "Aren't we all about confessing our love today?"

"Don't use that smart mouth with me, not right now." I warn him, but then I lean against the bathroom counter to breathe through another cramp.

"I know you're pissed about the beer and everything else. But you can fight with me when you're healthy, it wouldn't be a fair fight otherwise. Right now, let me just look after you, please." He begs, his tone desperate.

Without responding to him, I go back inside the bedroom and finish changing into the clothes. I lie down on the bed, my sulking mood only going deeper as tears sting my eyes. I've been trying so hard to keep myself together for him but with my health in a pothole right now, I don't know how good of a job I can do.

When tears soak my pillow, I let out a low frustrated groan with the nausea hitting me all over again. I haven't fallen sick in so long, I almost forgot how terrible it feels.

"Emma?" Blake's voice hits me from behind since I'm facing the opposite side.

I don't respond to him. As much as I love him, I really don't want to talk to him right now. Hopefully, he'll leave me alone if he thinks I'm asleep. But then I hear him moving around and he comes to stand in front of me. I wipe away the tears hastily, trying to hide from his gaze.

He kneels down on my bedside, a worried look etched clear as a day on his face, "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." I sniff back the tears and he gives me a deadpan look. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You're upset with me," He whispers, stating the obvious, the pad of his thumb wiping away the tears from my face.

"You reek of beer." I retort, trying to avoid this conversation.

"Do you want me to go away?" He asks sounding sincere and I nod. "Sure?"

"I don't know, Blake. I don't know anything. I don't want to say or do the wrong thing that will make you snap at me again. I hate how awkward things are between us because we aren't like this, and fuck—ow!" I let out a painful groan, closing my eyes.

I was just starting to sit up to have a conversation with him but my head hits the pillow, so I lie back. As if monthly period pain isn't enough, now I have to go through this.

"Cramps?" He asks and I nod with my eyes closed but a tear rolls down the side of my face.

I feel his thumb grazing my skin which makes me flutter open my eyes. His expression is filled with what looks like guilt. He doesn't respond to a word I said which only makes me feel worse. My shoulders slump from the tired groan that escapes me. He takes my hand in his, bringing it near his lips as he presses a longing kiss on my palm.

He gets up from his kneeling position and disappears from the room which only makes me cry harder. My choked sob is interrupted when he enters the room again but this time, he has a heating pad in his hand.

"Fuck, Emma. What's wrong? Is the pain too much?" He sounds panicked as he rushes to my side in a second.

"No." I shake my head, sitting up a little.

"Then what is it?" He looks at me with wide-eyes.

"I—" I feel pathetic even saying it out aloud. "I thought you left me alone."

"Baby, I just left for a minute to get you this. Oh god, come here." He immediately moves on the bed to wrap his arms around me, to hold me in his embrace.

The familiar comfort of his touch only makes my tears appear quicker. I didn't even realise how much I had missed being held by him until this moment. He has been so distant from me ever since we've come back from New Jersey, it's been aching slowly.

"Shh." He whispers, kissing my hair and running his hand on my back at the same time. "I'm right here, not leaving. Not going anywhere."

"I'm so mad at you. I don't want to be, I understand how much pain you are in but—" I shake my head, letting the tears from last two days spill away.

"Right now isn't about me," he tells me, his voice awfully slow.

"It's always been about you, Blake. That's how much I'm in love with you." I wipe away my tears, pulling back from him a little which only earns me a scowl but I shake my head when he reaches for me again. "I don't want to push you so don't worry about this, okay? I'm just a little sick and I'll be fine."

He blinks at me, as if I've lost my mind before he gives me a look of disappointment, "Emma, I didn't mean that. What I said yesterday, about asking you to step back, I want the opposite of that. I love you, I love that you love me and I would do anything to stop hurting you except each time I want to say the right thing, I end up in a worse pit-hole."

It takes me a second to process his words, to let the realisation sink in that the disappointment etched on his face isn't for me, it's for himself. He's disappointed in himself.

From whatever I've gathered till now, Blake doesn't handle difficult situations in life smoothly. He's the happy-go-lucky kinda guy, with a smile constant on his face to uplift those around him. But when things go haywire in his life, he shuts everyone out, including himself.

"You said the right thing," I tell him.

"I did?" He looks confused but I nod, crawling into his lap to hold onto him. "Hurting you is the last thing I want to do. I hate it when you cry, Emma. I feel so helpless, especially with you being sick. Why didn't you take lunch with you?"

"I was running late." I mumble, sniffing a little from all the crying.

"And you couldn't have asked me to make it for you? We're better than that." He pushes my hair away.

"You've been acting so distant, I didn't want to bother you." I answer truthfully.

He sighs, his eyes searching mine, "I'm sorry. Will you please take your meds and lie down?"

I don't argue because my stomach is still hurting like a bitch. He offers me two pills which I swallow down. I don't know whether to cater to my physical health or emotional one. But I lie down nonetheless. Blake moves around to plug in the heating pad before offering it to me.

"Will help with the cramps." He sets it down on my belly before putting the comforter on me. "We'll talk, alright? After you're feeling better."

I nod at him. Even when I close my eyes, I feel his gaze on me constantly, but not in an unnerving manner. The warmth of the heating pad really does provide me with comfort and eases out the cramp knots.

I know there's a lot both of us need to talk about but I need physical energy to carry out that conversation. I let the sleep take over my body instead of resisting it.

There's a loud pounding on the door that I wake up to. This apartment really could use some sound proofing but we're not financially in a position to complain. Blake must've opened the door because the sound stops.

My eyes move to the table clock and I realise that I've slept for couple of hours. The heating pad is lying by the side but it's turned off. My nausea feels better and cramps seem to have subsided. My mouth feels a little dry so I reach to the night stand for water to hydrate myself.

A frown takes place naturally when I hear another person's voice in the living room. I'm about to get up to check who it is when I realise that the reason sound is travelling so easily from in and out of the room is because the door is ajar.

It takes me a minute to recognise Connor's voice as I sit up a little in the bed. There's a constant mumbling around but I can figure out most of it.

"Emily's not home?" Connor asks.

"She's sleeping." I can imagine the look of distress on Blake's face in his father's presence.

"At this hour?"

"She's sick." Blake's voice is a little offended. "Never mind, what are you doing here?"

"No, hold on. Is she okay?" Connor traces back to his words.

"Yeah, just a little stomach bug, that's all. She'll be good," Blake tells him, giving my extremely fatigued body hope along with it.

"I just came here to check on you, to see how you're doing." Connor sounds tired.

"Oh." Blake seems surprised with that tone. "I'm okay. How's Mom?"

"Trying to be okay, I guess."

My heart hurts for Ella. I spoke to her yesterday to check up on her and she sounded better but tired nonetheless.

"And you?" Blake asks, surprising me with his question as well. I know he cares for his father, but he doesn't show it often.

"I'm okay, kid." Connor pauses a little and I wonder what he must be doing. "This is a nice place you've got here."

"Thanks." He sounds awkward and I can imagine him standing in front of his father with his hands shoved into his pocket. "Take a seat, please. Emma would kill me for not being hospitable enough if she was awake. Would you like to eat or drink something?"

His words make me smile because he's right. I didn't know until now that Connor hadn't even taken a seat, that would've earned Blake a nice glare.

Connor chuckles a little. "You two are really doing this, aren't you?"

"What?" His question makes me frown too.

"Living together, being serious about each other and building a life together." Connor states it out like our goals but it causes me to smile.

"Yeah, yeah. We are." Blake responds, taking a beat before speaking again. "You don't approve, do you?"

"It's less about approval and more about concern." Connor defends himself quickly. "For both of you."

"You don't have to worry. We've got it handled." Blake doesn't even try to hide his annoyance which makes me sigh.

"I know that. I'm proud of the life you're building for yourself."

I am about to get up and go out there, not feeling nice about eavesdropping when Blake speaks up again, "Are you though? Proud?"

Shit. Is he really going to do this right now? I can't even imagine Connor's reaction to Blake's question. I don't move now that I know where the conversation's going to go.

"What does that even mean?" Connor sounds baffled. "Of course, I am proud of you."

"Then why do you continue to taunt me every chance you get? Is it because I didn't get into Harvard?"

Fuck. He's really doing it. I want to stop listening but it isn't like I can close the door without making my presence obvious so I stay seated in my place.

"Not gonna lie, son. That did bother me for a while but I got over it. Columbia is a great school, you're doing well there," Connor tells him.

"Then what is it? I chose HR instead of sales like you wanted? I have an older girlfriend? I'm not at the top of the class, what is it that makes you question me, Dad?" Blake sounds desperate, his voice is on the edge and my heart hurts for him.

I can't even imagine the strength it must be taking him to carry out this conversation. He has been putting it off for so long for a reason now. He didn't want to make things worse and I'm just holding my breath, waiting patiently for something good to come out of this.

"Why do you think I question you?" Connor's probably taken aback from Blake's questions but I don't blame either of them.

There's way too much misunderstanding between these two.

"You don't?" Blake snaps a little, almost making me wince at his tone. "All you've ever done is expressed how you wanted me to go to Harvard, get into sales or operations, climb up the ladder to become some top leader of a company."

"I didn't realise—" Connor quickly speaks up but Blake beats him to it.

"You never do, do you? Do you remember the day I got my acceptance from Columbia?" Blake must be seething because his voice is rising with each second. There's no response from Connor but I hear Blake speak again. "Do you remember the day I got rejected from Harvard?"

"Yeah." Connor's voice is almost inaudible.

"Same day, Dad. Same day." Blake scoffs. "Do you realise now?"

"How long have you felt this way?" His father's voice is so discourage that the friend in me saddens for him.

"Felt what? Your disappointment? Every step of the way."

There's a long silence that follows after that. I fumble with my fingers, still sitting on the bed. A part of me wants to go out there, to stand by the side of the man I love, but I know this isn't about me. This is about him, this is his moment and his issue to take care of all by himself.

I hear Connor clears his throat before he speaks up, "I understand that I've pushed you at times, but I've always had your best interest at heart. That might be hard to believe for you right now but it's the truth. I had no idea you felt this way, I've always just wanted to motivate you. A part of me wishes we had this conversation sooner so I could do something more to fix it but now that I know that's how you feel, I'll try to be more expressive of how proud you've made me.

"A day doesn't go by when I don't feel the pride rushing through when I think about how well you're doing. I am no one to question to you, Blake. You're far better off than I was at your age. Like Emily said that day, you've got your life together and I can never be disappointed in you for that. I'm sorry that my concern has had negative connotation but my intention was never to discourage you."

I let out a huge sigh of relief at Connor's words. That sounds like the Connor I know and admire the hell out of. It always took me by surprise how Blake felt about their bond, because I knew there has to be some misunderstanding. His feelings aren't invalid, and he isn't at the fault at all. He just needed to express how he felt.

"That doesn't change the last five years, Dad," Blake says, his voice a little low. "You should've been there on my basket ball games, at least once. You shouldn't have asked me to choose between sports and academics when I could manage both. You cannot fix things overnight just because you gave a long apology."

He sounds hurt and upset, making me draw my knees up to hug them because I want to hold him but I can't, not right now.

"I understand, and I am sorry. I don't mean to fix anything overnight, but maybe with time if you give me the chance, that is. Your Nana's loss has been a reminder that life is too short to keep the grudges and have regrets. You're my son, Blake. My only kid. I don't want you to feel that way about me, I want you to be able to talk to me about anything you want. That's the kind of bond I've always wanted to share with you."

"Well, you haven't done a very good job at showing it." Blake retorts immediately.

"If you let me, I'd like a do-over."

Blake doesn't say anything for a while and this is one of those moments where I wish we had the power of telepathy. I don't want him to forgive Connor overnight either, but he can at least offer him a chance, or at least try to give him a chance. I know he would like that too.

It's like my wishes come true when Blake speaks up again, "I'll think about it."

"That's all I'm asking." Connor quickly responds. "I'll leave now. Tell Emily I said get well soon, and you take care of yourself too."

"Thanks."

The next minute I just hear some footsteps and the front door of the apartment opening and closing. Silently, I get out of bed. My body feels so fatigued almost making me dizzy at first but then I gain my balance quickly.

I peek out of the room to see if Connor has actually left before stepping out. Blake isn't in the living room but what catches my eye is how clean it is. Whatever trash was there when I got back home this afternoon, all of it is gone. There's no trace of dirt either. Blake must've cleaned it.

I move to the kitchen to find him standing with his palms pressed against the counter. He's staring down at the marble with a frown on his face. I notice that he has changed out of his clothes too, he looks like he has taken a shower.

He must notice my presence because he looks up, his expressions a little alarmed, "Hey. You should be in bed."

"I'm okay." I assure him, moving to stand on the other side of the counter.

"Are you feeling better?" He asks, moving around to go to the refrigerator.

"A little, yeah. The pain has subsided but I feel like someone has sucked all the energy out of me," I say, observing his actions.

He pulls out a bottle and a glass, making his way to me. He fills it up, sliding it across, "Drink up."

"What's that?"

"Electrolyte. It'll help you stay hydrated and you need that. C'mon now." He urges, pushing the glass towards me.

I know he wouldn't let me be if I don't drink so I start gulping it down. He thankfully got me an orange flavour so it actually tastes pretty fine.

"When did we get this?" I frown at him.

"I got it while you were sleeping, there's more stored for you." He shrugs, pointing towards the refrigerator. "You need to take another dose before going to sleep, and you need to eat. I made you soup."

"You did?" I don't hide my surprise.

"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck. "I think you should stick to light food for a while."

I can't believe he did all the cleaning in two hours that I slept, got me drinks to keep me hydrated, took a shower and also made me soup. He's doesn't have to say it, his actions are evident that he's trying to get his act together.

"Thank you." I whisper and finish the electrolyte before moving to keep the empty glass in the sink.

When I turn around, Blake takes ahold of my wrist and pull me to himself. He doesn't say a word to me, just wraps his arms around my body in a tight embrace. I freeze for a second but then my muscles relax under his familiar touch, a warmth I've missed too much since last couple of days.

"I'm so sorry, so so so sorry." He mumbles. "I've been acting like such a dick ever since we've come back and I know I've got my issues but you don't deserve to be treated this way."

His words surprise me, there's a lot of vulnerability in his voice which catches me off guard. I hug him back, holding onto him, letting myself comfort him the same way he's doing for me.

"You were right to push me and I was so wrong to push you away. That was a dick move, and I'd do anything to make up for it," he continues, "Just don't leave me, Emma. Please. I'll make up for it, just don't leave."

I pull away a little, studying his face with a scowl on mine. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't want to lose you." He brings his hand to my cheek, his thumb grazing my skin in a feather like touch.

"Baby, why would you even say that? I'm not going anywhere." I shake my head, giving him an incredulous look.

"It shouldn't have taken you falling sick for me to get this shit together," he tells me and I don't disagree for a second because he's right, "But I won't screw up again. I know you don't forgive easily, but please just this once, forgive me."

I think about the last two days, and all that crosses my mind is how miserable Blake has been over the loss of his grandmother. His actions had everything to do with the loss he's suffering and nothing to do with how he feels about me. He could've handled the situation much better but he's only human.

He was hurting, and if I hold those actions against him instead of understanding him, what does that say about me, about us, about our relationship? Love isn't just about the bright days, or filled with rainbows and flowers. It's about the days that turn unnecessarily and unexpectedly bad and filled with daily hassles of life — and during that, what matters is the companionship of your better half.

I don't respond to him verbally, instead I let my actions speak for me. Standing on my toes, and with my arms around his neck, I pull him down to my level and kiss him. He's quick to return the gesture, his arms going around my waist to hold me. I hadn't even realised how much I'd missed this.

There's a sense of calm in our actions, our lips moving against each other's in a sync that feels like home because of how familiar it is. When I pull away, Blake's orbs are widened with surprise. I just smile at him before pressing another kiss on his lips.

"You don't smell of beer anymore." I point out and his lips stretch into a sad smile.

"No more drinking. At least not like that." He promises, leaning forward to press a peck on my forehead. "Dad stopped by."

"I heard." I admit meekly, a little embarrassed that I eavesdropped on their entire conversation. He looks a little surprised. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay. That's good. It saves me from repeating everything." He assures me.

"I'm insanely proud of how well you expressed everything to him," I tell him because I know it couldn't have been easy for him. "Do you think he deserves another chance?"

"We didn't have grave issues, Emma. All I needed was a little effort and understanding from his side." He sighs. "I got that."

"Then why did you say you'll try?" I frown at him, brushing his unkempt hair aside with my fingers, something I do a lot.

"Just so he also has time to reflect back on everything, that's all."

Well, that kinda makes sense. I read his face and he looks tired, but there's another conversation we need to have. There's a little hesitancy as I bring it up, but it needs to be done.

"I think you should talk." I whisper. "About Nana. Whenever you're comfortable."

He doesn't seem fazed by my words. Instead, he visibly swallows before letting out a sigh a second later. His shoulder slump from what looks like emotional burden he seems to be carrying around.

"Do you have something to do right now?" He asks and I shake my head. "Are you feeling fine enough to hear my very sad thoughts?"

I smile at how considerate he's being instead of overwhelming me with his emotions and thoughts. Not everyone does that. I take his hand and start pulling him towards the couch.

"All good. C'mon, let's talk."

"There might be some crying." He gives me a fair warning.

"I would've been afraid if there wasn't. My ears are all yours," I take a seat on the couch but instead of sitting by my side, Blake sits down on the carpet in front of me.

He rests palm on my knees before resting his head against it, facing a little away from me. I don't question it, because maybe this makes it easier for me, to avoid eye contact. I just reach out and caress his hair, letting him know that I'm right here for him, for as long as he wants me to be, always.

•••
i can't believe how much these two have grown up into their relationship (cries). they are one of my fav couple i've ever written but then who am i kidding. i love all my characters so much. it's like they are all my kids and i see them grow up with the plot.

anyway, thank you if you're reading this. please don't forget to vote and comment.