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She’d got used to it over the years. She was used to missing him, used to missing every version of him. The one she had, the one she could have had if she’d stayed. The life they may have had if she’d allowed herself to have it.
She was used to it.
Then, out of nowhere, he walks back into her life on a random Tuesday afternoon, sitting in a cafe they used to go to together.
In which Emily considers the art of starting over.
-x-
Hi friends,
I think we all know by now that every Noah Kahan song makes me think of Hotchniss. This one is inspired by Staying Still from The Great Divide: The Last of the Bugs.
As always, let me know what you think <3
-x-
Warnings: past break up, angst/feels
Words: 2.7k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily wasn’t someone who had ever really allowed herself to regret anything. It felt like a gateway to a path she didn’t want to walk down, something she wouldn’t allow herself to do.
Even the worst things she’d ever done had been done with the best of intentions, other people and their survival at the centre of it all.
There was only one thing, one person, who was ever able to sneak past the rigid wall she’d built around herself with her refusal to regret the choices she’d made, and that was Aaron Hotchner. She’d lie in her half-empty bed and close her eyes, and she’d remember how it felt to sleep next to him, how it felt to be loved by him.
After she came back from Paris all those years ago, he’d been the one person who didn’t try to make her be the person she’d been before she’d died. He understood that she’d been forever changed, that for all intents and purposes, Emily Prentiss may as well have died that day in Boston, and he didn’t judge her for it. He sought her out, looked out for her in a way she thinks she would have hated from anyone else. It felt inevitable that their friendship turned into something more, that they eventually fell over the line they’d been walking like a tightrope for years, the feelings they had for each other spilling out of them over a bottle of wine one evening after Jack went to bed.
For a while, she allowed herself to believe that she’d finally found the light at the end of the tunnel. A life that she’d died for, a life with a man she loved and his son.
Then the bank happened, and Clyde offered a job that her instinct was to say yes to, Ian’s ghost still around every corner even though Aaron was right by her side.
She couldn’t stay. She hadn’t allowed herself to stay.
The worst part was, he was so fucking gracious about it. He understood why she had to leave, and understood why she said no when he suggested a long-distance relationship, his smile sad and as soft as it had ever been as she broke both of their hearts, all the while telling herself it was for the best.
Whenever she came back after that, for work or to simply see the team, they acted as if nothing had ever happened between them. The nights they’d spent together, the nights they’d spent falling in love, a secret for the two of them, pressed between them in hugs that lingered a little too long but were never questioned by their friends.
Sometimes, she almost wished he’d hate her for it. It would be easier to take, but before he went into hiding with Jack, whenever he saw her, he would still look at her like he always had. Love and adoration shining in his eyes, that had once existed only in the secrecy of his place or hers, or in a restaurant just far enough out of town.
He might have been the only person to ever love her unconditionally, to love her despite the choices she’d made, and somehow that made it worse in the moment when she allowed herself to wallow in the regret of losing him.
She’d got used to it over the years. She was used to missing him, used to missing every version of him. The one she had, the one she could have had if she’d stayed. The life they may have had if she’d allowed herself to have it.
She was used to it.
Life moved on. She’d found some happiness with Andrew, but even that had ended, part of her decision to break up with him fueled by the fact she knew she could be happier, that she once had been.
She missed Aaron, more than she cared to admit, even to herself, but she almost always stopped short of reaching out to him, only doing so when she had to pass on bad news. She called when Krystal died, and then when Will did too, ignoring how Aaron would immediately ask how she was doing, hearing the strain in her voice that no one else could. She got used to that too, taking his lack of contact the other way as confirmation that he didn’t want contact with her apart from that.
Then, out of nowhere, he walks back into her life on a random Tuesday afternoon, sitting in a cafe they used to go to together.
She went once a week, chasing fragments of what she’d broken years ago, all while she told herself it was just because she liked the coffee. She was so used to imagining him in the booth she still considered theirs, that it takes her a moment to realise he was actually there, a soft smile on his face that makes her breath catch in her chest.
“Aaron?” She chokes out, barely registering that her grip on her coffee is loosening, her throat tight as he continues to smile at her, everything she could have had, everything she stopped herself from having, somehow shining in his eyes.
“Hi Emily,” he replies, “It’s been a while.”
She only really believes he’s there when she drops her coffee, the shock of the hot drink hitting her pants enough to bring her back to herself. “Fuck.”
Aaron is on his feet in seconds, his own coffee on the table he’d been sitting behind, his eyes wide as he tries to help, grabbing paper towels from the barista who’d walked over and stopping short of pressing them against her legs, clearing his throat as he passes them over.
“Here, come sit,” he says, nodding towards his table, and she sits down, grateful as everyone in the cafe moves on from the scene she’d caused quickly, the barista who’d cleaned the floor smiling politely as she says she’ll remake Emily’s drink. “You’re not usually the clumsy type.”
She laughs dryly as she pats at her pants with the paper towels, “Well, usually I don’t see a ghost in the coffee shop.”
He smiles at that, as unbelievably handsome as he’d ever been. The years had been kind to him, salt and pepper flecks in his hair and his beard, and lines around his eyes that suggest he smiled a whole lot more these days than he used to. It forces her to look away, to curse herself for still being affected by him all these years later, for breaking up with him when she did, once again wondering what their life would be like if she hadn’t. If they’d meet here for coffee in the middle of the working day and sit in a booth, pressed up against each other as they looked at photos of Jack, and maybe another kid or two they may have had, as if they hadn’t seen them just that morning.
“Fair enough,” he replies, pulling her back to the present, to the reality of sitting opposite him, a stranger whose embrace was once the place she felt the safest.
“What are you doing here?” She asks, smiling politely at the barista as she brings over her replacement coffee. “Thank you,” she says, her smile fixed in place until it’s just the two of them again, “I didn’t know you were in town.”
“I’m moving back,” he says, simply but not casually, aware of the weight of the admission as he looks at her. “I came here to grab a coffee in between house viewings, his smile turns wry. “I can’t say I wasn’t hoping to run into you.”
She presses her lips together. “You’re moving back?”
He nods. “Jack is in his senior year at Georgetown. He wants to stay when he’s done, and I have no reason to be anywhere else.”
It answers a question she knows she has no right to ask. He wasn’t in a relationship, and was just as single as she was. She doesn’t know what to say, everything she had always wanted to say and everything she couldn’t, stuck in her throat, and she chokes on a sound she can’t name.
“I have to go back to work soon,” she says, tasting the familiar regret she only ever associated with him on her tongue, “I can’t stay.”
For a second, it feels like they are back in her old apartment, getting ready for JJ’s wedding, the past and the future colliding with three little words that replaced the ones she should have said. He smiles at her, a sadness pressed into his dimples, and he clears his throat.
“How about dinner?” He offers, “We can catch up.”
She stands up, making sure her hold on her coffee is firm this time, not sure she’d survive the embarrassment of dropping a second one, and she nods.
“Sure, dinner.”
She isn’t sure it’s a good idea, but it isn’t a bad one either, and she knows no matter what, she’d never regret spending any time with him.
___
Dinner quickly turns into something they do once a week.
He becomes her sounding board quickly, someone she can call or text to complain about work and cases, and the difficulty of being in charge. She helps him move into his new place and tries not to think about the fact he still has the same couch as he did all those years ago. Sometimes, it feels like they have stepped back into what they once had, the years and the distance not as important as they had been just a few short months ago, but with one key thing missing.
They still hadn’t talked about their relationship, still hadn’t talked as if they were once more than friends. It became something unspoken, something neither one of them was willing to bring up first.
As with everything that seemed to when it came to them, it comes up by accident one night after she invites him over for a drink.
“I still can’t believe Dave hasn’t retired,” Aaron says as it sits on her couch, glass of wine in hand, “The man’s been threatening it almost as long as he’s been back in the FBI.”
She chuckles as she sits down, purposely maintaining a reasonable distance between the two of them. “You can’t even mention it to him without getting glared at,” she says, smiling as she sips her wine, “I think he likes having something to do.”
He hums, “Who’d have thought that I’d retire before him?”
“It’s not like you had a lot of choice,” she says, and he smiles, nodding as he agrees.
“I hated it at first, but I think it suits me now,” he replies. “Did I tell you I took up surfing?”
She laughs at that. A full-bodied thing that bursts out of her, her chest aching with it as she tries to remember the last time she’d laughed so heartily, “Now that I’d love to see.”
“You’ll have to come with me sometime,” he says, laughing along with her, his eyes bright in a way they always were when he thought she didn’t see him looking at her. “Do you think you’ll retire?”
“Maybe,” she blows out a slow breath. “I don’t know,” she answers honestly, “What else do I have other than my work?”
He furrows his brow. “Em, work isn’t all you have.”
She chuckles again, humourlessly this time, and she shakes her head. “Yes, it is. Since Andrew and I broke up…I’ve thrown myself into it, and I spend as much time there as I can,” she looks around her apartment sadly, “It makes it easier to come home to an empty place if you’re exhausted by the time you come through the door.”
He nods, shifting a little closer to her. “I can understand that,” he says, “Part of why I was so keen to move back was because my place was empty without Jack.”
She hums, “I think the part that sucks the most is that I somehow turned into my mom.”
He frowns at her, “You aren’t like her.”
She raises an eyebrow. “True, the main difference is I never had my kids,” she says, her jaw tight as she tries to push down everything she couldn’t allow herself to feel, “Probably the kindest thing I could have done for them.” The air becomes thick with everything. Their past. The life they could have had. The one they could now have, and it becomes too much. She swallows thickly and looks up at him. “What are we doing here, Aaron?”
“We’re friends catching up.”
She smiles wryly. “We were never very good at just being friends.” She looks up and wonders when he got so close, close enough that if she leant forward she could kiss him if she wanted to, but instead she repeats her question. “What are we doing?”
“You’re the smartest person I know,” he says, smiling softly at her, “Surely you don’t need to ask.”
“We have a past, Aaron,” she says, unsure if it’s hope or fear, or a strange combination of the two that’s threatening to choke her. Everything that they could have had if she’d stayed, everything they could have if she says yes, filling her lungs until she can’t breathe.
“Em, you broke up with me, remember?” He says softly, his smile sad as he looks at her, and she knows he’s not saying it to be cruel; he’s just telling the truth. He didn’t break her heart, she broke her own and his at the same time, something she’d never quite forgiven herself for. “Not the other way around.”
It’s a reminder that she didn’t have a reason not to trust him, that if he was willing to start again then maybe she should be too. A fresh start. A soft epilogue that they both deserved.
“Sometimes I think about what we might have had if I’d stayed,” she admits, “A life together. A couple kids maybe…” she blows out a shaky breath, feeling exposed in a way that she only had in front of him, any wall she’d built around herself, impenetrable to anyone else, non existent the moment he looks at her, “You’re the only person I ever really imagined any of that with.”
“We could still have it, sweetheart.”
The use of the nickname he’d only ever used for a handful of months, but something she had always thought belonged to him. Andrew had tried to call her sweetheart once, but she’d screwed her nose up at it, suddenly reminded her of Aaron, of the life she’d chosen not to have. Andrew had assumed it meant she wasn’t a nickname person after that, and he hadn’t tried again.
She chuckles dryly, “I think the ship may have sailed on the kids thing a while ago now.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he says, offering out his hand to her. It looked softer now, the callouses he’d once had from his gun long gone, his skin a landscape that had changed just as much as the rest of him. “I mean we could try again, if you want to. We could start over.”
She feels the familiar tug of panic, the desire to run overwhelming her as she looks at his hand for a second longer before she looks up at him, her eyes shining in a way she’s grateful he seems to ignore.
“I’ve started over so many times, Aaron,” she says, her voice cracking as it gives way under years of pressure, years of telling herself that this wasn’t exactly what she wanted. “I don’t know if I can do it again.”
He nods, as understanding as he’d always been, his hand still held out. “Me too,” he says, “And if you were anyone else…if you were anyone else, I wouldn’t want to try.” He clears his throat, dislodging the hope she knows is stuck there, “But what’s one more time?”
She smiles despite herself, her cheeks aching with preemptive joy. It overtakes everything else, pushing away fear and concern and anger she’d aimed inwards for years for ruining her one chance at the happy ending she never entirely believed she deserved, because he was right. What was one more time, in the grand scheme of things, if it meant she could finally allow herself to be with him?
She takes his hand, and it’s the bravest thing she’s ever done.
one shot coming tomorrow based on 'Staying Still' by Noah Kahan, snippet below the cut <3
He walks back into her life on a random Tuesday afternoon in a cafe they used to go to together. She went once a week, chasing fragments of what she’d broken years ago, all while she told herself it was just because she liked the coffee. She was so used to imagining him in the booth she still considered theirs, that it takes her a moment to realise he was actually there, a soft smile on his face that makes her breath catch in her chest.
“Aaron?” She chokes out, barely registering that her grip on her coffee is loosening, her throat tight as he continues to smile at her, everything she could have had, everything she stopped herself from having, somehow shining in his eyes.
Okay alright, the way I’m in love with ‘Where you lead’? Cannot put it into words. Read it for almost 2 hours yesterday because I started over and over again.
AMAZING!
Even though JJ telling Emily she moves away put tears to my eyes (I’m on my period, let’s blame it on that). Much love to you!
ahhh thank you so so much <3 this really means a lot!
AU's are always a bit more nerve wracking than other fics. I love to write them, but not everyone loves to read them, and it's harder to keep the characters in character, so it truly means so much when people enjoy them <3
She imagines how the evening could have gone in another life. She would have probably given Aaron her number without thinking about it, probably would have kissed him too or gone home with him. Something that could have been a one-night stand she’d remember fondly or maybe even something more. He seemed like a nice guy, like someone she would have seen how things could have gone with if she was someone else.
Instead, he was someone she’d never see again and soon forget she’d ever spoken to once the guilt she felt for the way she left things had faded away.
Emily is very protective of her life and her heart, and has told herself for years that it's better if she's alone. Then, one day, she meets Aaron Hotchner and everything changes.
A Young Hotchniss AU.
-x-
Hi besties,
Thank you so SO much for the continued love on this fic so far, it truly means the world to me.
Apologies for the slight delay in this chapter coming out. Life got in the way and then so did a trip to the emergency dentist that ended in a tooth extraction!! Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this!
As always let me know what you think <3
-x-
Warnings and previous chapters can be found on the master list
Words: 3.7k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Two Years Later
It feels like nothing short of an achievement that she makes it to school to pick up Rosie on time.
Emily had been pulled into a meeting about a case, a meeting that couldn’t wait due to the urgent nature of it and the vulnerability of the people involved. As soon as she was able to leave, she did, worried she’d leave Rosie standing outside of school waiting for her, something she’d remembered doing herself more than once outside a new school when she was her age.
They’d moved to DC a month ago.
It was a decision that hadn’t been easy, one that Emily and Aaron had talked over again and again, but ultimately it was the right one. It was the best decision for both of their careers, for Aaron’s hope of being DA one day, and Emily’s desire to do a Master’s in Social Work to expand her career, to allow her to make policy changes that would help people in the way she once needed help. Since the move, she worried about seeing her Mom more than she cared to admit, but she relied on the hope she would be abroad most of the time, just like she had been when she was young, and she didn’t want that to be why she didn’t move.
Rosie had been a big consideration too, but she’d been supportive of the idea, especially when they told her about the house - the first home that she’d have that wasn’t an apartment. Any concern the 12-year-old may have had about moving was gone in the instant they told her she could decorate her room however she wanted, that they’d no longer have to think about landlords or keeping things as they were.
It was a fresh start, for all of them. The future was as clear as it had ever been.
Emily had never wanted to move her daughter around, but she’d moved to the college that had given her a full ride, her daughter and a few boxes of belongings in tow as she drove them to a new town full of new opportunities. She never imagined when she left that she’d have a U-Haul full of furniture and her things, and the man she loved in the driver's seat, his hand on her knee as he drove them to their new house back in the city she’d once called home.
Emily sighs in relief as she parks outside the school, waving at another mom as she walked by. Things still weren’t perfect, she knew there was some gossip about her age amongst the other parents, but it seemed easier now. She was never sure if she just cared less, or if how young she must have been when she had Rosie was less obvious. Either way, it felt like a weight lifted from her shoulders.
She smiles at Rosie as she walks towards the car, stopping herself from waving because she’d been told off about that before, and she unlocks the doors.
“Hi honey.”
“Hi,” Rosie says, her smile and voice tight as she climbs into the back of the car, her school bag already on the seat next to her as she clips her belt into place. Usually, she’d sit in the front, delighted to sit in the passenger seat ever since she was tall enough and it was just the two of them in the car, but she sits where her car seat used to, putting space between the two of them that Emily wasn’t used to.
Emily furrows her brow, throwing Rosie a look in the rear-view mirror, “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Rosie answers a little too quickly, scrunching her nose up as she hears it herself. “Can we just go home?”
Emily hesitates for a moment, but she nods, knowing that her daughter would tell her whatever was bothering her when she was ready, and she starts to drive away. “Of course.”
“Is Aaron already home?” Rosie asks, and Emily casts another glance in the rear-view. Seeds of concern start to plant in her gut as she spots her with her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes fixed out of the window as streets that were slowly starting to feel familiar pass them by.
“No, not today,” she replies, “He’s working on a case so he’ll be late. He’s got court tomorrow, so it’s just us for dinner.”
“Oh,” Rosie says, her disappointment clear, and Emily makes a point of gasping as if offended, her hand on her chest as her eyes meet Rosie’s in the rearview when they stop at a light.
“What's so wrong with just spending time with your mom?” She asks, smiling when Rosie rolls her eyes and fights a smile herself, “It’s how it always used to be.” Rosie’s smile falls as quickly as it had appeared, and Emily’s gut twists, “Honey-”
“The light’s green, Mom,” Rosie says, shifting so she’s looking out of the window again, and Emily carries on driving, finding herself missing the days when Rosie would immediately come to her when something was wrong instead of trying to work through it herself first.
When they get home, Rosie runs up straight to her room, still insisting she’s fine and that she has homework to do. Emily blows out a steady breath and heads for the home office, telling herself she’ll do some more work on her application for her Master's instead of just sitting there wondering what on earth had happened at school. By the time rolls around, she tempts Rosie out of her room with the promise of pizza and her favourite soda, and they sit on the couch together, the pizza box across both their laps, watching a reality show they both loved. Eventually, the box ends up on the coffee table, and they sit in comfortable silence, Rosie’s head on Emily’s shoulder as she snuggled against her in a way she rarely did these days.
“Mom?” Rosie asks eventually, her voice quiet, “Can I ask you something?”
Emily immediately turns off the TV, all of her attention on Rosie as she turns to look at her. “Anything, you know that.”
Rosie nods, her lips pressed together in a sad smile, sucking in a sharp breath as she braces herself for something. “Does my Dad know I exist?”
Whatever Emily had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. It briefly knocks the air from her, makes her suck in a sharp breath that she doesn’t do a good job of covering up. She’d always told Rosie the age appropriate version of it all, a story that had grown with her. She’d mentioned John whenever Rosie asked, and told her the answers to limited questions she wanted the answer to. Rosie was inquisitive about everything except this, as if some small part of her had always tried to protect herself from someone who had let her down before she was even born.
Most of the time, Emily could rationalise John’s reaction to her pregnancy. He’d only been a kid too, 16 by the time he found out she was having the baby and had decided to keep it. He was young and scared, and he’d reacted like a young, scared kid. He’d called her names she liked to think he felt guilty about when he looked back on it now, and he told his parents, who promptly moved them back to the US and then out of DC. But in moments like this, she was furious at him. Angry that he’d walked away when she couldn’t, when any decision that had to be made had fallen to her. She’d spent years wondering if he’d eventually reach out. If after high school, and then college, he’d wonder about the kid he had out there, the kid he’d never met or even known the name of.
If she was honest with herself, she was terrified of him reaching out. She was sure John would disappoint Rosie, that he’d let her down, and she didn’t want him to have the chance to. As the years had gone on, it made her all the more grateful that she’d made the decision not to name him on Rosie’s birth certificate. It meant she couldn’t ask him for anything, but it also meant he couldn’t ask for anything either. He couldn’t just show up now and try and be Rosie’s father without dragging them all through the courts, something that Emily was sure he’d avoid because of his family.
“Yes,” Emily answers, “He knows.”
Rosie nods, “And he didn’t want to know me? Like your mom?”
Emily sighs and reaches out, tucking some of Rosie’s dark hair behind her ear, “Sweetheart, he was young-”
“So were you,” Rosie insists, sounding wiser than her 12 years, more like a friend she’d grown up with than her daughter, “You were young.”
She nods, “I was,” she agrees, hooking her finger under Rosie’s chin to encourage her to look at her, “What’s brought this on?”
Rosie blows out a slow breath, “One of the girls at school,” she says, tucking her legs under herself, disconnecting herself from Emily as she sits back a little, “She…she was making fun of me for not having a dad.”
Something that Emily could only describe as fury licks through her, her jaw tight as she does her best to swallow it back, her throat burning as she does her best to stay level-headed. “I’m sorry, baby, kids can be cruel.”
Rosie chuckles and nods, “Yeah, they can be.”
“Being the new kid can be hard,” Emily says. “But you’ll find your people,” she places her hand on Rosie’s knee. “Want me to call the school?”
“Oh God, no,” Rosie says. “It’s fine. I guess it just made me think about the fact I’ve never met him, that’s all.”
“Do you…do you want to meet him?” Emily asks, ignoring the twisting in her stomach, knowing that despite her own worries, her own fears, if Rosie said yes she’d hunt John down in a heartbeat.
Rosie shakes her head immediately. “No,” she says, almost tripping over the refusal as she speaks, “I…no I don’t want to meet him.”
The relief Emily feels is followed by guilt, her stomach rolling with it as she places her hand on Rosie’s knee.
“Okay,” she replies, smiling softly when Rosie looks up at her, “You know if your answer ever changes, if you do ever want to meet him, you just have to let me know?”
Rosie nods, and she blows out a shaky breath, flashing a quick but sad smile at Emily before she looks at a picture of the two of them and Aaron on the wall, taken at his graduation from law school.
“Sometimes I wish Aaron was my dad,” Rosie says, her focus on her hands, looking anywhere but at Emily. “He’d be a nice one.” She sniffs and wipes a tear from her cheek. “Do you think…” she clears her throat, still avoiding looking at Emily, “Do you think he’d mind if I started to call him Dad?”
Emily doesn’t miss the relief on Rosie’s face as she says it, or how her shoulders relax a little, as if it’s something she’s been thinking about for a long time, something that had been sparking in her chest for a while, only to catch alight at the cruel taunting of a girl in her class. Emily does her best to keep her face neutral, to make sure that she doesn’t sway her daughter’s decision. She’d seen the look on his face the few times Rosie had accidentally called him Dad. A passing thing brought on by tears or sickness, something she never seemed to remember. He lit up when she said it, his eyes as bright as she’d ever seen them, but she knew that Rosie was always Aaron’s priority as well as hers, that he’d never wanted her to feel as if she had to think of him in any way she didn’t want to.
Emily shifts closer and puts her hand on Rosie’s knee, smiling softly when their eyes finally meet. “Are you thinking about this because of the girl at school, or because you want to?”
Rosie blows out a shaky breath, thinking about it for a moment before she nods, sounding decisive for the first time since they’d got home.
“Because I want to. I’ve wanted to for a while…” She shifts closer to Emily again, her knee nudging against Emily’s thigh. “Remember when I did that project at my old school? About families?” She asks, and Emily nods. “Well, we talked about what moms and dads do, and I realised that Aaron does everything for me that a dad should. He looks after me, and you, and he loves me and always says it. And he always has time for me, even when I know he doesn’t really. But…I don’t want to freak him out.”
Emily chuckles, pressing her lips together when Rosie frowns at her. “Sweetie, the man found out that the girl he flirted with at a party had a kid, and he carried on trying to flirt anyway,” she says, winking when Rosie laughs. “I think he’s pretty unflappable. And like you said, he loves you. You calling him Dad, if you decide thats what you want to do, would never freak him out.”
Rosie smiles, “You think he won’t mind?”
Emily pulls her into a hug, her arms tight around her, grateful when she sinks against her. “I think he’ll love it.”
Rosie pulls back, a glint in her eyes that Emily doesn’t quite understand, a sparkle of mischief replacing the sadness that had been there before.
“Please don’t say anything to him,” Rosie says, “I want to, if that’s okay.”
She nods immediately, love for them both, for the way they loved each other, making it hard to breathe for a second.
“Of course it is, honey.”
___
“What does Mom think we’re doing, again?”
Aaron smiles at Rosie as he parks the car, nerves rolling around in his stomach as he looks at the jewellery store. “She thinks we’re at the movies.”
He decided to propose months ago. They’d discussed marriage. They’d discussed everything. Their future painted by soft exchanges during conversations at midnight, brush strokes left behind by soft smiles and nervousness that came with trying to figure out what kind of future they wanted. He wanted her and Rosie, and he’d be happy with the two of them forever, but Emily had said she would want at least one more kid at some point, that she wanted to experience it properly this time, with love and support and a family at the end of it all.
He knew he wanted to marry her the first time he watched her with Rosie, his love for her instant and terrifying as he realised that loving someone, and being loved by someone, who had sacrificed so much already was an honour he wanted to be worthy of. He’d slowed himself down, made sure that he went at her pace, but now they lived together in a house they owned, both of their names on the deed; he knew now was the time.
At first, he wondered if he should get Rosie involved at all. He questioned it, thought about doing an elaborate proposal to both of them, or if he should ask Rosie’s permission, but then she’d spotted rings on his work computer when she visited him in his office one day, and the decision was made. She was delighted to be involved, her eyes sparkling like the diamond he’d hopefully finally choose today, as she tried to contain her excitement over keeping such a big, important, fun secret from her Mom.
“Do you know what you want to get?” Rosie asks as they get out of the car, looping her arm through his as they walk towards the store. “What’s our budget?”
He chuckles, “Why don’t you let me worry about the budget, okay?”
She sighs in a way only someone on the edge of being a teenager could, and she raises an eyebrow at him as they step into the store. “Okay, but it’s not my fault if I fall in love with something too expensive.”
He raises an eyebrow at her as she unhooks her arm from his. “You get more and more like your Mom every day, you know that, right?”
She beams at him, “We both know you love it.”
“Hi,” the shop assistant says as she walks over, “My name is Louise, how can I help you today?”
Aaron goes to answer, but Rosie beats him to it, “My dad needs to buy my mom an engagement ring.”
He looks at her so quickly that he pulls a tendon in his neck, but he barely feels it, his eyes locked on Rosie’s side profile as she looks anywhere but at him, the slightly pink tinge to her cheeks the only real sign that he hadn’t misheard her.
She called him Dad.
“Oh, how lovely,” Louise says, unfazed by Aaron’s reaction, or lack of it. “Do you have any idea of what kind of ring you’re looking for.
Rosie smiles, finally turning to look at him. “I don’t know,” she says, clearing her throat, “Dad?”
She flashes him a quick smile, silent but full of everything neither of them needed to say right now, and it snaps him back to reality, his throat thick with emotion that he pushes back down as he clears it.
“I think she’d like something simple, maybe a solitaire,” he says, and Rosie nods along, turning back to Louise.
“Oh, I love a man who does his research,” Louise enthuses, nodding towards a display towards the middle of the store, “I’ll show you what I’ve got in.”
He stands in place as Rosie follows her over, practically bouncing as she approaches the display, her eyes wide as she looks at all the rings in front of her.
“Dad, I think she’d like this one.” She says, pointing into the display case, calling him dad again for the third time in as many minutes, as if she were trying to catch up from a lifetime of not calling him that.
He nods and walks over, his breath catching again when he looks at the ring she’s pointing at, “It’s beautiful.”
They end up going for the third ring they look at. It’s perfect, an oval-shaped solitaire diamond set in a gold band. When he gives Louise the ring size, she swoons over his attention to detail again, and he wonders what on earth she sees daily to consider knowing your partner’s ring size as an unusual thing.
Rosie is quiet as he pays and organises picking the ring up in a week, and she sticks close by, her smile soft but ever present until they walk outside, “Now you’ve just got to figure out how to do it.”
He hums as he unlocks the car, opening Rosie’s door for her. “I have some ideas.”
She smiles at him. “Are you going to tell me?”
He nods as he switches the engine on. “As soon as I decide which idea I’m settling on, yes.”
She chuckles. “You have no idea what to do, do you?”
Aaron sighs, “Not a clue.”
“Mom wouldn’t want anything big or fancy,” she says as she does up her seatbelt. “She loves just being at home with you. Maybe decorate the porch with lights or candles or something,” she adds, looking over at him. “She loves the porch. She always used to talk about when we’d have one someday.”
He smiles, the idea of it warming him from the inside out. She did love the porch. In the five weeks that they’d lived in the house, he’d found her sitting out there more times than he could count already, a blanket over her lap and a cup of tea in her hands as she sat in the swing and looked over the backyard.
“That’s perfect,” he says, and Rosie beams at him. He clears his throat, hoping his voice won’t shake as he continues. “Are we going to talk about the whole ‘Dad’ thing?”
She presses her lips together, suddenly shy. “I spoke to Mom about it last week,” she says, looking down at her hands, her focus on her cuticles. “You do all the things a Dad should do, and…I wish you were my Dad for real,” she finally looks up at him again, “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course I don’t,” he says, reaching out to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear he thinks she doesn’t even realise is there until it’s gone, “I’ve thought of you as my little girl for a long time, he says, smiling when she rolls her eyes a little, “And, for what it’s worth, I am your Dad, in all the ways that it matters, and I will be as long as you want me to be.”
Rosie nods, her chin trembling, and he wonders how long she’d been waiting to hear that, cursing himself for not saying it sooner, for not reassuring her of something that he didn’t know she needed reassuring about. “Does forever sound okay?”
He pulls her into a hug, and she returns it fiercely, neither of them worried about the awkward angle caused by them being sat next to each other in the car. “Forever sounds perfect.”
“I love you, Dad,” she says, the words passing from his shirt straight to his heart. He holds her a little tighter, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.
“I love you too, princess,” he says, pulling back to wipe more tears from her cheeks, “Now, your mom thinks we’ve been to the movies, which means she’ll be expecting our leftover snacks,” he says, smiling when she chuckles, the sound catching against her ribs, “What do you say about going to the movie theatre, buying some overpriced popcorn, candy and sodas, eating what we can in the car and taking her the rest?”
“That sounds perfect,” she says, pausing for a second before she carries on, “Dad.”
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i was going to finish up writing chapter 7 of Where You Lead today, but instead I ended up having to go to the emergency dentist for a tooth extraction
so i think i was maybe in high school the last time I had a tooth pulled out, and good LORD I forgot how much it sucked.
I am mostly better now though, and I can sit up without my head feeling like it's going to explode (fun fact I learnt these past few days- upper molar extractions can cause sinus issues...)
Really hoping I'll get chapter 7 up and finished tomorrow night, so here is a snippet to tide you over:
“Do you want to meet him?” She asks, ignoring the twisting in her stomach, knowing that despite her own worries, her own fears, if Rosie said yes she’d hunt John down in a heartbeat.
Rosie shakes her head immediately. “No,” she says, almost tripping over the refusal as she speaks, “I…no I don’t want to meet him.”
The relief Emily feels is followed by guilt, her stomach rolling with it as she places her hand on Rosie’s knee.
“Okay,” she replies, smiling softly when Rosie looks up at her, “You know if your answer ever changes, if you do ever want to meet him, you just have to let me know?”
Rosie nods, and she blows out a shaky breath, flashing a quick but sad smile at Emily before she looks at a picture of the two of them and Aaron on the wall, taken at his graduation from law school. “Sometimes I wish Aaron was my dad.”
i was going to finish up writing chapter 7 of Where You Lead today, but instead I ended up having to go to the emergency dentist for a tooth extraction
I Knew You'd Linger Like a Tattoo Kiss - Passionate Kisses
A series of unrelated one-shots and mini fics about the many types of kisses Aaron and Emily share.
-x-
Hi besties,
I am so close to the end of these prompts!! Only 4 left after this one.
This one fulfils 'passionate kisses.' And it is basically just Emily being sappy over how much she loves Aaron haha
Master list here!
As always, let me know what you think!
-x-
Warnings: so fluffy you should floss after
Words: 1k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
She wasn’t used to being the one left behind.
The thought alone made her feel dramatic, made her roll her eyes at herself every time the thought even came close to crossing her mind. But, for the last week, every single time she climbed into bed and Aaron wasn’t there, she felt so sad over his absence that she had to stop herself from calling him.
If she didn’t love him so damn much, she’d be furious at him for turning her into such a sap.
The reality of him being gone for the week was harder than she thought it would be. When they first started dating, they’d stopped working together as soon as they told everyone about their relationship. She took Clyde’s offer of a job at the Interpol office in DC and Aaron carried on at the FBI. She got used to him being away for a couple of nights, or three at the most, but that was years ago now. Another lifetime before they’d grown their family with their little girl.
Aaron left the FBI when Hazel was born five years ago. It was a decision they’d made together, one they’d gone back and forth on more than once, and they’d decided it was ultimately the best choice for their family. She hadn’t felt ready to stop working, and he wanted to right the wrongs of his past. His presence in their house since then had been constant. As much a part of their home as the walls they’d painted themselves or the couch they picked out the day they signed the deeds.
When Hazel started school, he was adrift, lost without the job of looking after their little girl every day, so Emily had encouraged him to find something new. He got an offer to teach classes at Quantico, and he was good at it. He thrived in teaching the next generation of agents, and it didn’t take long for the offer of going to London to teach a guest series at Scotland Yard to come through. She’d again encouraged him to do it, proud of him for finding something he loved doing.
Hazel had struggled since the moment he left. Tears on her cheeks that she could shed because she was five and would miss her dad, tears that Emily held back in a vain attempt to convince herself it would be okay and to keep a brave face on for Jack and Hazel. Jack was okay overall. He was content to help around the house, almost a little too content, enough so that Emily was sure her husband and son must have conspired to look after her and Hazel when she wasn’t listening.
Hazel was grumpy at first, but then became even clingier with Emily than usual. She’d given up trying to make her sleep in her own bed after the first night, quietly grateful for the company of her little girl, a piece of Aaron that she could have if she couldn’t have him there with her.
The morning that Aaron is due home, Emily bounces out of bed, her tiredness outweighed by her excitement. She struggles to get the kids to agree to go to school, but the promise that their dad would be there to pick them up does most of the persuading. She’d told Aaron that she couldn’t pick him up from the airport, had told a little white lie and said there was a meeting that she couldn’t get out of, but she’d taken the day off without telling him. Gladly taking all the jokes from Clyde on her behalf, because Aaron was coming home and she knew he’d do the same for her.
She buys flowers without really thinking about it, remembering all the times he’d picked her up from the airport with a bunch of flowers in hand, and she finds his gate. She’s almost embarrassingly early, nervous excitement bubbling under her skin so much she can’t sit down.
She sees him the second he steps out of the gate and into the airport. The relief she feels is palpable, a tension she hadn’t realised was in her chest disappearing in a second, her shoulders sagging as she steps towards him.
“Aaron!” She calls out, waving the hand not holding the flowers in the air. He smiles at her the moment their eyes meet, shock and adoration mixing together as he walks over, his smile somehow getting wider by the second.
“Em? I thought-”
She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips against his, cutting him off and using his slight shock over the way she’d all but thrown herself at him to her advantage so she can deepen the kiss, tasting the coffee he’d had on the plane on his tongue. It only takes him a second to react, his arms around her so tight as he kisses her that she feels herself leave the ground, not entirely sure if he’s lifting her up or if the amount she loves him has finally made her as weightless as it made her feel.
She’s brought back to earth, literally and figuratively, when someone nearby catcalls them. She and Aaron smile at each other as they pull back, and he sets her down, his hand on her back as she presses her thumb against his lips to wipe away the smudge of lipstick she’d left behind, the flowers squished between their chests.
“Hi,” she whispers, pressing her lips together to try and suppress her smile as he kisses the pad of her thumb.
“Hi,” he replies, “I missed you.”
She chokes on a sound she can’t name, somewhere between a sob and a laugh, and she nods, reaching for his hand and linking it through his.
“I missed you too.” She says, handing him the bunch of now slightly crumpled flowers, “These are for you.”
He takes them from her. “No one has ever bought me flowers before,” he says, squeezing her hand as he starts to lead her towards baggage reclaim, “Maybe I should go to London more often.”
Would you write a Hotchniss fic about Emily dealing with the menopause and the trials and tribulations that go along with the symptoms? I feel that Aaron would be her biggest supporter to try and keep her comfortable like with night sweats and being patient with brain fog.
Thanks!
I love this idea so much <3
I really hope you like how this turned out!
-x-
Shift
She was once again brought to the brink by her hormones or, this time, the lack of them, and Aaron was doing everything he could to make her feel better. The kind son of a bitch had even bought books on it, and gone online to find forums about how to support a loved one going through the menopause. He was as perfect for her as he’d always been, and it was seriously starting to piss her off.
-x-
Words: 2k
Warnings: None
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily had always loved how much Aaron loved her. It was unwavering. A constant she had built a life around, each brick laid on a firm foundation of mutual love, respect and adoration.
Recently, it had started to grate on her a little.
She knew it wasn’t his fault, that nothing had changed with him, but she felt on edge. In some ways, it reminded her of when she was pregnant. When she’d been at the mercy of her hormones and when her body hadn’t felt like her own. Aaron had been amazing. Kind and attentive and there for her in a way that she’d found as irritating as she did adorable.
It was the same now. She was once again brought to the brink by her hormones or, this time, the lack of them, and Aaron was doing everything he could to make her feel better. The kind son of a bitch had even bought books on it, and gone online to find forums about how to support a loved one going through the menopause. He was as perfect for her as he’d always been, and it was seriously starting to piss her off.
She’d felt the start of it all a few months ago. Hot flashes that made her feel like she was burning from the inside out. She couldn’t sleep. When she did sleep, she’d wake up drenched in sweat. She had headaches and dry skin and kept forgetting what she was doing in the middle of doing it. She felt like she’d lost complete control of her body again, except this time there wouldn’t be an adorable baby at the end of it.
She sighs as she stands in the kitchen, her hands on her hips as she looks around, entirely unsure why she’d come in here in the first place.
“For fuck sake,” she says, rubbing her temples and sighing as she leans against the kitchen counter. She blows out a slow breath and heads to the fridge, wondering idly if opening it and staring at its contents would somehow trigger her memory, but she’s distracted by the pictures on it, snapshots of her life held in place by magnets they’d purchased in every place they’d ever visited as a family, a tradition Aaron had started on their honeymoon when he bought a magnet depicting the Greek island they spent a week on just the two of them.
She smiles at a picture of the girls and Jack at his recent college graduation, their smiles wide as Jack stands between his sisters, his cap on Lucy’s head and his diploma held up proudly by Violet. She reaches out and runs her fingers over it, pride welling up in her gut that is immediately replaced by a sadness that only seemed to get worse as they all got older, when her gaze drifts to a nearby picture of Jack and Lucy sitting squished together in the armchair in the living room, a newborn Violet in Lucy’s arms and Jack’s arms securely around them both. It felt like it happened just yesterday, not 12 years ago, and she wondered where the time went, how she’d gone from being a mom of three small children to the mom of a college graduate, a 14-year-old and a 12-year-old.
She missed being needed, and she missed feeling like herself. She feels tears that feel nothing short of ridiculous pressing at the back of her eyes, and she shakes her head at herself, blowing out a harsh breath as she tries to pull herself back together and remember why she’d come into the kitchen in the first place.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
She turns to look at Aaron as he walks in, looking as handsome as ever in a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt she’d bought him with ‘Proud Father of a Yale Graduate’ emblazoned on it. It felt like a cruel trick of nature that he was ageing so well, that his slightly longer hair and the flecks of grey in it made him seem more distinguished. He’d always assured her that she was beautiful, as encouraging as he’d always been when she decided to stop dying her hair a couple of years ago, his smile soft and loving when he saw her grey for the first time. He made her feel beautiful and sexy even when she felt anything but.
“I don’t know,” she scoffs, “I came in here to do something but…God knows what,” she smiles self-deprecatingly, hoping if she makes a joke out of it she could get out of another conversation about how she was feeling, “I think I’d forget my head these days if it weren’t attached.”
He smiles reassuringly at her and walks over, dropping a kiss to her forehead as he squeezes her shoulder, “You came in for a cup of tea.”
She sighs, remembering it the moment he says it. They were watching TV with Violet, waiting for Lucy to get back from her friend’s house, and she’d decided she wanted a cup of tea. Aaron had offered to make it for her, but she’d refused, winking at him as she made a point of flirting with him just enough to get a reaction out of Violet.
“Fuck sake,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest, “This brain fog will be the death of me.”
He simply smiles at her and nods towards the stools at the kitchen counter, “I’ll make it for you.”
She huffs out a sigh and sits down, “Thanks, honey.”
He nods and switches on the kettle, kind enough not to mention that he’d offered to do this for her in the first place. It makes her furious and guilty all at once, but mostly she feels mad at herself for not feeling like the person he married anymore.
“Want to talk about it?” He asks, and she chuckles dryly, shrugging her shoulders as she looks at the fridge again, at the photos scattered amongst drawings from elementary school that the kids rolled their eyes at every morning.
“No,” she says automatically, “Yes,” she carries on, scrunching up her nose as she shakes her head at herself, “Maybe.” She pauses, finally looking up at him, unsurprised to see that he’s just looking at her, as adoring and supportive as he always was. “I just…I get so frustrated sometimes. I wish that forgetting what I’m doing while I’m doing it was the worst of it, but it barely scratches the surface. I forgot what I was saying during a meeting today in front of the fucking director, and he’s an asshole at the best of times. I could see him practically salivating at the thought of me losing my edge.”
She’d started to consider retirement recently anyway. They’d lost Will, and everything with Voit had really got under her skin, but the changes in her body had started to make her think about it even more. On one hand, she wanted more time with her husband and her kids, but work had been so much of her life for so long, so much of who she was, that she didn’t know who she’d be without it.
And she wasn’t sure if that was a step she wanted to take when she already felt so far away from who she’d once been.
“You’re not losing your edge, sweetheart,” he says as he puts a bag of her favourite tea in her favourite mug, “That’s not possible.”
She hums, unsure if she believes him, “And then there’s the hot flushes. And the night sweats. And…” she drifts off, and all but growls and throws her hands up in the air, shaking her head as tears gather in her eyes, “And I love sex,” she lowers her voice, reminding herself that Violet was just down the hall, “I’ve always loved our sex life…but the thought of doing it now makes me feel…” she drifts off and wipes a tear from her cheek, “And I hate it. I hate that I don’t feel like myself, and that I probably won’t ever feel like myself again.”
He steps towards her, his hand already held out to touch her arm, “Em-”
“And you’re so sweet, and you don’t seem to care that we have to change the sheets so often because I can’t stop fucking sweating at night, and you never say anything about the fact we rarely have sex at the moment…but I hate this. I miss how things used to be.”
He reaches out for her, “Em-”
“And I know it’s normal, and I know women have been going through this forever. I mean, fuck, I watched my own Mom go through it, but…I hate it,” she wipes another tear from her cheek, “I hate it so much.”
He pulls her into a hug, and she goes willingly, her head against his chest as he wraps his arms around her. “Maybe it’s time you spoke to your doctor.”
She groans against him but doesn’t pull away, lets herself sink into the comfort he always had ready and waiting for her. “I know,” she grumbles, “But she’ll suggest medication and…it feels like it’s admitting that it’s happening, you know?” She pulls away to look at him, smiling when he wipes a tear from her cheek. “I know that sounds stupid.”
“You’ve never sounded stupid for a second in your life,” he runs his fingers through her hair and tucks it behind her ear, “I could always come with you.”
She chuckles, “To the OBGYN?”
“I’ve been to appointments with you before.”
She smiles, “Yeah, when I was pregnant with the girls,” she says, and her smile fades a little, “Feels like a lifetime ago now.”
“I know,” he says, stamping a kiss against her forehead, “They’re pretty amazing though.”
She beams, pride over who her kids were, and who they were becoming overtaking everything else, “Yeah, they are.”
They stay in that embrace for a few more seconds as the kettle screeches to let them know it’s ready. She starts to feel hot, a familiar warmth starting in her chest and her cheeks that quickly takes over, forcing her to pull back from Aaron, something he immediately responds to, taking a step back as he gives her space and finishes making her cup of tea. She starts to fan herself with her hand, blowing out a slow breath as she desperately tries to cool herself down a little, wondering if she looks as flushed as she feels.
“Do you need your fan?” He asks, “I think it’s in the office?”
She smiles, any of her usual irritation at how attentive he was nowhere to be found, and she shakes her head, “I’ll be okay in a minute. Thank you, though.”
“Anytime,” he says, placing her tea in front of her, and he nods over his shoulder towards the living room, knowing without being asked that she needed a little space for a few minutes. “Why don’t I see if Vi can pick something out for us to watch until Luce gets home?”
“Sounds good,” she says, finally feeling a little more comfortable, the warmth that had overtaken her slowly fading away, “I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
He smiles and starts to head out of the kitchen, but he stops and looks back. “You know none of it changes anything for me, right?” He says, taking a step back towards her, “I love you. Nothing will ever change that.”
She feels tears press at the back of her eyes and she sucks in a slow breath before she nods, “I know. I love you too.”
He smiles at her one last time and leaves the kitchen, already calling Violet’s name as he leaves, her response slightly muffled by distance.
Emily wraps her hands around the cup of tea on the counter in front of her, focusing on the warmth of it against her hands instead of the residual warmth still lingering in her chest, and she sighs contendedly as she looks back at the pictures on on the fridge, her eyes skimming the glimpses into the life she’d lead, into the life she was still leading, and she knew that even though things were different, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be beautiful.
Work has really been kicking my butt this week, so I'm sorry about the lack of updates <3
here is a snippet of the menopause fic I am working on requested by @laurenreynxlds, which I will post on Sunday since i am out tomorrow for some belated birthday celebrations!
She knew it wasn’t his fault, that nothing had changed with him, but she felt on edge. In some ways, it reminded her of when she was pregnant. When she’d been at the mercy of her hormones and when her body hadn’t felt like her own. Aaron had been amazing. Kind and attentive and there for her in a way that she’d found as irritating as she did adorable.
It was the same now. She was once again brought to the brink by her hormones or, this time, the lack of them, and Aaron was doing everything he could to make her feel better. The kind son of a bitch had even bought books on it, and gone online to find forums about how to support a loved one going through the menopause. He was as perfect for her as he’d always been, and it was seriously starting to piss her off.
She’d felt the start of it all a few months ago. Hot flashes that made her feel like she was burning from the inside out. She couldn’t sleep. When she did sleep, she’d wake up drenched in sweat. She had headaches and dry skin and kept forgetting what she was doing in the middle of doing it. She felt like she’d lost complete control of her body again, except this time there wouldn’t be an adorable baby at the end of it.
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She imagines how the evening could have gone in another life. She would have probably given Aaron her number without thinking about it, probably would have kissed him too or gone home with him. Something that could have been a one-night stand she’d remember fondly or maybe even something more. He seemed like a nice guy, like someone she would have seen how things could have gone with if she was someone else.
Instead, he was someone she’d never see again and soon forget she’d ever spoken to once the guilt she felt for the way she left things had faded away.
Emily is very protective of her life and her heart, and has told herself for years that it's better if she's alone. Then, one day, she meets Aaron Hotchner and everything changes.
A Young Hotchniss AU.
-x-
Hi besties,
Thank you so SO much for the continued love on this fic so far, it truly means the world to me.
After this chapter, we will have a little time jump, and our favs will no longer be in college/law school, and they'll start settling into their lives together. Who knows...maybe some familiar faces will make an appearance at some point...
As always let me know what you think <3
-x-
Warnings and previous chapters can be found on the master list
Words: 3.6k
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
She’s as quiet as possible as she sneaks into Rosie’s bedroom, wincing when the hinge on the door squeaks as she pushes it open. Rosie doesn’t stir in bed, still fast asleep with her favourite stuffed cat in her arms, and Emily walks over. She kneels on the floor next to the bed and takes the opportunity to run her fingers through her little girl's hair, tucking a dark lock of it behind her ear.
“Mom?” Rosie asks as she stirs, blinking heavily as she leans into Emily’s touch. Emily smiles as her eyes open, running her fingers through her hair again.
“Happy Birthday, Rosie.”
All of a sudden, she had a ten-year-old.
Most of the time, Emily couldn’t believe that she’d made it here, that she’d made it work despite almost everything being against her, but she’d done it. She’d worked and put herself through school, and raised a kind, smart little girl all by herself while she did it, all while making sure Rosie knew she was loved, despite it only being the two of them. It had gone too fast and too slow all at once, and Emily wished more than anything that she could go back and talk to her 15 year old self who sat crying holding a pregnancy test in her parent’s bathroom, or to her 16 year old self who sat in a tiny studio apartment with a newborn and no furniture except a crib, and tell her that it would work out. That their little girl was amazing, and they were about to graduate from college, that they’d found someone who loved them because of what they’d survived, not despite it, and that the future was starting to look bright.
Rosie beams at her and sits up, shifting in bed to make room for Emily to climb in with her. “Thanks, Mom.”
Emily gets in the bed with her and slips the covers over her lap. She pulls Rosie into her arms and kisses the top of her head, chuckling to herself and chasing her as she tries to shift away. “Are you excited for your party?”
Rosie nods, “I love the arcade,” she pulls back to look at her. “Is Aaron coming?”
Emily nods, “Of course he is,” she leans in as if sharing a secret, her voice low even though it’s just the two of them, “He loves the arcade too,” she says, smiling when Rosie giggles, “And since it’s your birthday, I bet he’ll share all his tickets with you,” she checks the time on her watch, “He’s coming over soon, he’s bringing those pancakes you love from that diner for breakfast.”
Rosie tilts her head curiously, “He didn’t stay last night?”
“No,” Emily says, shaking her head, “I wanted to make sure it was just you and me first thing this morning.”
Rosie hums. “I like him being here,” she says, “He’s nice.”
Emily smiles and tries to hide it by dropping a kiss to the top of Rosie’s head. “He is, isn’t he?”
“And he loves you,” Rosie says, rolling her eyes when Emily’s eyes go a little wide. “Mom, please, you tell each other all the time.”
Emily laughs, unsure why she feels her cheeks go red, why she’s embarrassed by being in so in love she can’t hide it from her daughter. “I guess we do,” she says, clearing her throat as she sobers a little, “You do know if you ever have an issue with any of it, even if you just want more time just you and me, you only have to tell me.”
Rosie nods, “I know,” she says, shrugging as if it was obvious, “But…” she drifts off, and Emily waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t, so she gently prompts her.
“But what, honey?”
“I’m kinda glad it’s not just you and me anymore.”
Emily sucks in a breath, and she kisses her forehead, tucking Rosie against her so she can compose herself. “Me too, sweet girl. Me too.”
There’s a loud knock on the front door, and it brings the moment to an end, Rosie’s excitement reigniting as she climbs out of Emily’s embrace and off the bed. “That will be Aaron.”
Emily chuckles as she climbs out of bed too, the emotional whiplash making her a little unsteady on her feet for a second. “Or Aunt Pen,” she calls after her, “She’s coming over for breakfast too.”
She hears Rosie’s excited squeal before she’s even out in the hallway, and she smiles as she steps into the living room to see Penelope and Aaron both standing there, both with gifts for her little girl.
“Happy birthday!”
They say it at the same time, their joy and love for Rosie evident as she giggles, her hair still askew from where she’d slept on it. Aaron smiles at her as he puts a takeout bag full of pancakes and their favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen counter just before Rosie throws her arms around him.
“Aaron!” She exclaims, “Mom said you’re coming to my party.”
“I am,” he replies, hugging her back, “Are you excited?”
“So excited, I love the arcade.”
Emily feels her heart pound against her ribcage, familiar anxiety that came with anything to do with Rosie’s friends from school - and therefore their parents - rising up her throat. She always felt like she had to go the extra mile to prove herself to them, to make herself more than the young solo parent they judged her for being. Even now she could see it in their eyes, could see what was behind the polite smile as she handed out invites for the party in the arcade because it’s all she could afford. She did her best to hide it from Rosie, to not let her own insecurities, or the way people viewed them and their small family, impact her. She never wanted her to be able to look back on her childhood, when she was older and understood everything a little more, and think she’d ever been anything except the best thing that had ever happened to her.
Aaron winks at her, “Me too.”
Penelope dramatically clears her throat, “Am I invisible?”
Rosie beams at her and throws her arms around her, letting Penelope lift her up like she had when she was little. Aaron takes the opportunity to slip away, smiling at Emily as he wraps his arms around her.
“Hi,” he says, stamping his lips against hers. She smiles into the kiss despite the anxiety simmering low in her gut, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him into another kiss when he pulls back.
“Hi,” she replies, “Thanks for bringing breakfast.”
He smiles, “Anything for the birthday girl,” he says, squeezing her hips as his hands fall to them, “You doing okay?”
She blows out a shaky breath. “I have a ten-year-old,” she says, looking over to where Penelope and Rosie were plating up breakfast, “Feels like yesterday that she was a tiny little thing I was afraid of breaking. Now look at her.”
Aaron kisses her temple, and she sinks against him, lets the comfort that seemed to flow from him like cologne overpower her for a second. “She’s all you.”
She hums, “We should eat,” she says, tilting her head up to look at him, “I need to go to the arcade soon, make sure the room they promised me is decorated with the stuff I took over yesterday.”
He narrows his eyes at her briefly, looking her up and down as if he’s reading a book that only he could translate. “You’re freaking out.”
She scoffs and turns to look at him, casting a glance in Rosie and Penelope’s direction to make sure the little girl was suitably distracted, and she loops her hand through Aaron’s to hug him slightly further away from them.
“Of course I’m freaking out,” she says through her teeth, blowing out a sharp breath as she looks at him, “Her friends from school are coming, which means their parents are coming and they don’t like me. If the slightest thing about today isn’t perfect, they’ll be talking about it for weeks.”
He sighs and squeezes her hand, “Em-”
“And before you tell me I’m imagining things, I’m not. They’ve judged me ever since the kids were in kindergarten,” she says, shaking her head as she presses her lips together. “I was a kid when I had her, so they think I’m a bad influence or some bullshit.” She scrunches her nose up as she says it, “But I’ve always tried to rise above it for Rosie’s sake. I never want her to know that people treat us differently because of the choices I made. None of it’s her fault.”
He smiles at her and cups her cheek, making her look at him. “I wasn’t going to say you were imagining things,” he says. “I was going to say, I went to the arcade on my way here and checked out the party room. It looks perfect.”
“You…you went to the arcade?” She asks, and he nods, running his thumb back and forth over her cheek.
“I know it’s important to you,” he says, shrugging as if the casual way he loved her, as if the casual way he loved them, wasn’t everything.
“I love you,” she says, and he smiles at her, leaning in to kiss her quickly.
“I love you too.” He replies, and she presses her lips together to contain her smile, still not sure what to do with all the love she felt these days.
“As adorable as you two are,” Penelope starts, drawing their attention over to her and Rosie, the delighted smiles on their faces making both Emily and Aaron blush, “Breakfast will go cold if we don’t eat it.”
Emily nods and disentangles herself from Aaron, letting her fingers slip through his as she walks over to the kitchen counter to grab some of the plates of food. “Let’s eat at the table,” she says, “Then we can do presents.”
Rosie nods excitedly and grabs some plates too, matching Emily’s pace as they walk the short distance to the dining table, “See, I told you that you guys say it all the time.”
“Rosie.”
___
She wakes up alone. It wasn’t entirely unusual. Aaron didn’t stay over every night, but she remembered falling asleep with her giant, overly warm boyfriend wrapped around her, what felt like just a few hours ago. She checks the time on the clock on the nightstand and groans when she realises her alarm was due to go off in a few minutes, and she rolls onto her back, her arm over her eyes as she lets the time countdown anyway.
She hits the alarm the moment it goes off, and she climbs out of bed, stretching as she does, rolling her neck to get a crick out of it from how she’d slept. The moment she opens the bedroom door, she hears whispering in the living room, and it makes her smile. She walks as slowly as possible, making sure she’s quiet as she goes.
“Is that enough chocolate chips?” Aaron whispers, just as Emily smells pancakes cooking. She stops just short of walking into the room, content to stand back and watch him and Rosie together.
“Let me see,” Rosie replies, her whisper somehow louder than her usual voice as she leans over the bowl he’s mixing the pancake batter in, “Maybe a bit more. Mom says there’s no such thing as too many chocolate chips.”
Aaron chuckles at that, throwing Rosie a look Emily could only call adoring, and he nods as he pours more chocolate chips into the bowl. “I think thats enough,” he says, “Otherwise these might become brownies instead of pancakes.”
Rosie giggles at that. “Can I help flip them?”
Aaron nods, “Let me get started first though, okay?” He says, pouring the first pancake into the pan, “Your mom would never forgive me if you burned yourself.”
Emily finally clears her throat, alerting them to her presence, and she smiles as Rosie turns on her heels, her smile and eyes wide before she runs over.
“Mom!” She says, hugging her fiercely, “Happy Graduation Day!”
Emily chuckles and hugs Rosie back, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Thanks, sweet girl.”
She’d done it. She’d graduated from college. Something that once felt like a pipe dream, like something unachievable as she studied for her GED and then community college while working and raising a baby all by herself. It was something she’d started to prove her mom wrong, to show that she could still make something of herself, but it was something she finished for her and for Rosie. To give them the life that she wanted them to have, a life she had proudly built the foundations for.
“Me and Aaron are making you pancakes,” she says, linking her arms through Emily’s as she leads her over to the kitchen counter, “And I made you coffee,” she says, handing her the cup, her smile proud, “Aaron showed me how.”
Emily chokes on a noise she can’t name, something stuck between a laugh and a sob as she accepts the coffee, “Thank you.”
Aaron smiles at her, stepping away from the stove for a second to kiss her cheek, the first pancake dropped onto the plate next to her before he immediately gets started on the next one, “Happy Graduation Day.”
She smiles at him and catches the corner of his lips in a kiss, “Thank you.”
“Aaron got you a present,” Rosie says, pushing a small wrapped box across the table, “And I made you a card.”
Emily knows Aaron hasn’t missed how wide her eyes go at the size of the box, and he clears his throat, his hand on her shoulder as he briefly stops making breakfast.
“Rosie,” he says, “Why don’t you go get the card from your room?” he suggests, “And wash your hands first - you don’t want to get pancake batter on it.” Rosie nods and runs down the hall, sliding on her socks, delighted that her mom wasn’t telling her not to for once, entirely unaware of the brief panic Emily had slipped into. Aaron squeezes her shoulder again as soon as they are alone, “It’s not what you think.”
Emily laughs humourlessly, “What exactly am I thinking?”
“It’s not a ring,” he assures her as he moves so she has no choice but to look at him, “Not yet.”
She looks up so sharply that it hurts her neck. “Not yet? Aaron…we’ve been dating 10 months.”
“Which is why this is not a proposal,” he says, his voice still calm, his ability to be patient with her as adorable as it was frustrating. “It was only after I wrapped it that I realised what it looked like,” he says, picking up the small box and handing it to her. “Do you trust me?”
She blows out a shaky breath and nods, her fingers brushing his as she takes the box from him, tearing away the wrapping paper in half a second so she can find out whatever he’d bought her and calm the remaining panic in her gut. She sucks in a breath as she opens the box and sees a beautiful pair of earrings, diamond studs that would go with anything, staring back at her.
“Aaron,” she says, looking up at him, “These are beautiful.”
“Just like you,” he replies, kissing her cheek, “My mom always told me that every woman needs a pair of diamond earrings.”
She reaches for his hand at the mention of his mom. They hadn’t spoken since she’d met her a few months ago, another relationship damaged by the choices she’d made. She told him more than once that she understood if it was too much for him, that she didn’t want him to look back one day and regret all of this, but he’d simply shake his head and kiss her.
“Thank you,” she says, thumbing the necklace he’d bought her for her birthday, tracing the letter R that lay there. “At this rate, you’ll have bought me all my nice jewellery,” she says, immediately putting the earrings in. “I sold all of mine when my mom threw me out.”
He kisses the top of her head and turns back to the stove. “Maybe one day, I will get you that ring.”
She sucks in a breath and, despite the fear she feels, the anxiety sparking in her gut, she realises it’s not the only thing she’s feeling. There’s hope too. There’s excitement. And there’s a future that feels a little clearer than it did even yesterday.
“Maybe you will,” she replies, sharing a brief look with him before Rosie comes running back in, a glitter-covered card in hand.
___
She’s nervous again as soon as she has to find her spot in the stands. She looks out for Aaron and Rosie together, smiling when she spots them. She waves, laughing to herself when they wave back, big and animated in their movements as if she’d somehow miss them.
When she crosses the stage, she doesn’t feel her mom’s absence like she once would have. Her heart is full from how loudly her daughter and her boyfriend cheer for her, how proud of her they look when she casts a glance in their direction from the stage, her degree firmly in her hands. A legacy no one could ever try and take from her for even a second.
She waits for them once the ceremony is over, and she’s wondering if they’d find her in a sea of caps and gowns, when an excited squeal gets her attention.
“Emily,” JJ says as she walks over, wrapping her arms around her in a fierce hug, “Congratulations.”
Emily smiles as she steps back from the hug. “Thanks, you too.”
JJ points over her shoulder to a group of their classmates. “We’re all heading out if you want to join us?”
“Oh,” Emily says, “It’s okay, I have-”
“Mom!” Rosie shouts, interrupting Emily as she runs over, almost knocking her off her feet as she wraps her arms around her waist. Emily makes eye contact with Aaron just a few paces behind her, his expression apologetic as if he’d tried to stop her hurricane of a little girl from doing what she wanted. “Did you hear us cheering for you?”
Emily watches as JJ processes everything in a split second. The shock, the understanding. The moment she realises all the parties or late-night trips to the bar that Emily turned down suddenly made sense.
“I did, sweetie,” Emily says, wrapping her arm around Rosie, “This is JJ from my class,” she says before she looks up at her. “This is Rosie. My daughter.”
“Hi JJ,” Rosie says, her smile wide and, to anyone who wasn’t Emily, unmistakably hers. “You graduated too?”
JJ finally recovers, and she clears her throat as she nods, “I did.”
“Congratulations,” Rosie replies, and Emily squeezes her against her for a second before she kneels to get down to her level.
“Honey, why don’t you go and find Aaron and you guys can figure out where we’re going to eat?”
Rosie nods, “Okay, Mom,” she says, looking up at JJ, “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” JJ replies, her eyebrows knitted together curiously as she watches the little girl run off towards Aaron, waiting until she was out of earshot to carry on, “You have a kid?”
Emily nods as she stands up straight, “I do.”
“How old is she?”
She blows out a breath, “Ten.”
JJ’s eyebrows raise, “Wow, so you were…”
“Young,” Emily finishes for her, “I’m sorry I never told you. I…I’m very protective,” she says, turning to look at Rosie with her hand in Aaron’s, the two of them talking to each other animatedly, a bunch of flowers Emily knows are for her in his other hand, “I’ve always tried to keep everything separate.”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” JJ says, smiling when their eyes meet, “I take it you’re a no for drinks?”
Emily chuckles and nods, “Yeah, I’m sorry. They have something planned,” she says, nodding over her shoulder to Rosie and Aaron, “Neither one of them could keep a secret from me if their lives depended on it.”
JJ smiles, “Well, another time then,” she says, frowning when she realises there wouldn’t be another time, that this was it, that she’d found out the very thing about Emily that finally made everything make sense right at the end, “Will and I are thinking of moving to DC,” she says, tugging Emily into a hug, “If you ever find yourselves there, look me up.”
Emily nods and hugs her back. “I will do.”
She watches her go, smiling as she disappears into a crowd of their fellow graduates, and for a second, she imagines a world where she would have gone with them without thinking. Where she’d be planning a summer of travel and flings across Europe as she found herself before she had to find a job.
“Mom,” Rosie calls, beckoning her over with the hand not linked through Aaron’s, “Are you ready?”
“Coming, honey,” Emily replies as she heads over to them. They both smile, and she watches as they exchange a look, both of them winking at each other as they conspire about whatever they had planned for the evening ahead.
As she makes it to their side and is sandwiched in a hug between her two favourite people in the world, she has a feeling that the future she had ahead of her was infinitely better than anything else she may have had in another life.
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