A Summer's Dream

You're WHAT??

Drumroll please! BurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrUM! I chose to do Emily telling Terrence she's pregnant. Once I heard the suggestion ideas started to go around in my crowded brain and I knew it would be adorable. Sorry it took so long! I've hardly been home at all this weekend and I'll be gone again for most of this week. So I figured while I had time I would pound it out and get-er-done! This will be the last installment of ASD unless I come up with some breathtakingly perfect idea that I have to share. Anyways! Enjoy!

Terrence's POV:

I rubbed my eyes while keeping my other hand firmly planted on the driving wheel. My boss was exceptionally on my case today for the plans for the next building we were planning for construction. It made me happy, knowing I was finally going home. It wasn’t that I disliked work. Quite the contrary. I loved it. But after a hard day’s work it was so wonderful to come home to my girl. My hands steered the car into our winding driveway and I parked it in one of the parking spaces, next to Emmy’s. I tugged on a few of the buttons on my cardigan and opened the door, dropping my keys and wallet onto the entry table.

“Emmy?” I called out into our rickety apartment and waited a moment. Was she home? I continued to walk further into the living room and popped my head inside of the kitchen, smiling as I caught sight of her back. With a smirk I tiptoed closer to her, trying to remain as silent as possible.

I was only about a foot away when she spoke. “You’re home early.” Her voice made me jump almost two feet in the air. She turned around with a wide grin spread across her face and I frowned. I was the one supposed to scare her. She obviously caught on to my now grumpy mood. “What?” She frowned as well and I watched as her eyes flickered with trepidation. “You alright?” Her hand went to my forehead and I pushed it away agitated; the entire mood ruined.

“I’m fine.” Her face masked disappointment and fear and I felt bad for pulling away. “What’s for supper?” Hopefully changing the topic would help.

“Just a recipe I snatched from you mom.” She gave a weak smile and turned back to the stove.

We sat through a quiet and somewhat awkward supper. Emmy wasn’t herself. That much was evident. Usually we would joke and quote movies the whole time, but she just sat there, picking at her food. I thought it tasted alright, was her portion bad? That wouldn’t make sense. She made all of it at the same time. I tried shrugging it off and offered to do the dishes so she could rest; it was obvious something was bothering her.

I sat next to her on our hand-me-down couch.

“I have something to say.” Both of us said at the same time and she relaxed into a small smile.

“What is it?”

“No you go first.” I insisted.

“No, you go first.” She smiled back at me but the familiar look in her eyes told me not to cross her.

“Well…” I started awkwardly, trying to figure out how to word it. “You know how I’ve been going to sleep later lately?”

“And you leave the light on?” She added and I smiled sheepishly at her.

“That too.”

“Yes.” She confirmed and got more comfortable on the sofa. “What about it?”

“Well…I’ve been working on something.”

I watched as her eyebrow went up and I smirked a little. Going to the basket of magazines we kept by the couch, I moved a few aside and pulled out my blueprints. She looked confused at first, but everything seemed to dawn on her.