Dangerous Affections

Chapter2:GildedCage

Emma's fingers trembled as she ran over the perfect white dress. A constant indication of how far she had come in just fourteen days, the silk whispered against her skin. To go from a struggling single mother to the most desirable bachelor from New York felt strange. The Court Inn pulsed with activity, its luxurious changing space alive. Cosmetics artists and beauticians got all fired over her, transforming Emma into a dream fit for a Waverly woman of the hour. She could hardly see herself in the mirror. A faint knock broke the frenzy. Through the door, a facilitator named Ms. Parker said, "Thank you." Emma's heart hammered. She would meander down the path in simple minutes to wed a virtual outsider. The weight of her choice pulled her down. Emma inhaled completely, getting ready. Not about her, this was not. It was linked to Lily's future. She walked out of the changing area thinking like this. The ceremony passed fast. Emma mechanically said her vows, acutely conscious of the hundreds of eyes following her every action. Michael's hand was calm and steady as he slid the big diamond ring over her finger. It felt strange and weighty. As the celebrant said husband and wife, Michael planted a neat kiss on her. The quick touch startled Emma and made her shiver. Champagne toasts and congrats flowed over the event. Emma grinned and stood at Michael's elbow as he investigated the swarm of top-class New York offers. In a world where she did not know where she fit, she felt like a fraud. Michael muttered in her ear, "No doubt about it," as they positioned for one more picture. " Just smile at me." Emma nodded gently, appreciative of his comfort. Though their arrangement was frigid, she was appreciative of his frequent presence next to her. Weary as the evening went on. Emma's feet hurt from smiling and her heels were designer. When Michael declared at last they were leaving, she felt great relief. From the inn, a sleek limousine whisked them. Emma closed her eyes momentarily and fell into the ostensive cowhide chair. "Traveled?" Michael's quiet voice shocked her. Emma opened her eyes and saw him staring right back at her. She nodded, saying, "A little." It was somewhat "overwhelming". He waved, a slothful of clutching evident in his gaze. "Take a pause. Not too far off will be our return. Home is where the news rocked Emma severely. She became aware that her current "home" was nowhere known to her. The answer came as the limousine pulled up in the center of Manhattan at a striking tower. Emma gasped as she rode the private elevator straight into a large penthouse apartment. " Welcome home, Mrs. "Waverly," Michael murmured, his voice somewhat pleased by her stunned gaze. Emma moved across the room and marveled at the metropolis seen from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Just glass and chrome, the décor was modern and elegant. She thought it was lovely but chilly, just like her new partner. "Your room is like this," Michael said, guiding her down a hall. His pushing open a door showed a nice bedroom suite. "I want you to feel comfortable here." Emma wrinkled her head in incredulity. "My accommodation? We're not..." "Sharing a room?" Michael wrapped up and arched an eyebrow. "Numer. Recall that this is a commercial setup. We shall present appearances in public, while in secret we lead different lives. He said farewell then returned to his chambers and left Emma alone in her golden cage. The next few weeks were a whirl of upheaval. Emma's days were full of fits for her new planner closet, behavior and basic manners, and short training in Michael's business and political aspirations. She tossed and turned in her large bed alone late at night. Emma missed Lily rather strongly. It was different even if she visited her child on the weekends and spoke with her every day. Separating from each other always hurts. Michael still begged questions. He was openly the picture of a hovering partner, thoughtful, enchanted, his hand usually at her small back. Away from public attention, though, he was far distant, absorbed in work and hardly at home. Emma did, however, find herself drawn to him against all sense. She saw another man under the cleaned-out front, a flash of dry humor, a glimpse of unexpected compassion. She became fascinated by it and started researching the actual Michael Waverly. As the months went by, a sloppiness started to show. Emma threw herself into her new job, trying to be the perfect political wife. She shined nicely in front of Michael for the cameras, threw dinner parties, and attended charity galas. But uncertainty crept in still at times. Is it accurate that she was ready for this life of constant inquiry and performing fondness? The brilliance and thrill felt empty without actual connection. One evening, Emma found herself alone in the penthouse drinking wine while enjoying the city lights from her balcony. She woke from her dream, startled by the lift. Michael started to leave, looking tired. His tie was unfastened and his usually perfect hair was just slightly mussed. Emma's breath caught on him; he seemed more human, more receptive-like. She said, flinching at how domestic that sounded, "you're not kidding." Michael offered a half-smile with his lips. Having poured himself a glass, he said, "Couldn't stomach another rubber chicken dinner." "Would you mind if I joined you?" Emma gestured toward front of her. They stood in comfortable silence, staring down the city. "How are you comfortable?" Michael asked later, his voice softer than intended. Emma answered with serious thought. She said genuinely, "It's... a change." "But I'm doing fine." Concentrating on her profile, he gestured "You are doing great, you know. The media treats you with great love. My ratings of recommendation have never been better." Emma responded dryly, "delighted to help out," startling Michael into a giggle. Turning to face her completely, he said, "You're not what I expected." Emma matched his appearance, somewhat well-informed on their proximity. Is that a good or bad thing? Michael's eyes closed, and his voice dropped to low thunder. "I'm not sure just yet." Between them, the air seemed to strain. Emma's heart surged as Michael moved in slightly and lowered his eyes to her lips. She had the crazy notion that he might kiss her. Michael's phone's sharp ring, on the other hand, interrupted the trance. He went back and answered as the curtain of cool awesome ability slid once more into the proper place. Emma headed to her room still feeling her pulse. Recent events have happened. Also, for what reason did she feel so let down by nothing? Weeks went by, and the incident was not mentioned once more. But something had changed between them. Emma saw Michael staring at her when he assumed she wasn't looking. Their talks grew longer, and occasionally they were startlingly near. She reminded herself that it was nothing more than two people growing more comfortable in their marriage. Still, her conflicted heart trembled every time Michael smiled at her, every time his touch lingered just too long on her belly. It was dangerous. Emma understood she was running a great risk, depending on her heart on a marriage that was only a contract. She was unable to help herself in any case. That morning turned everything around. Emma felt a little weird when she woke up and became ill as she sat up. Driven to keep on, she wrote it off as a stomach bug. But as days went by and the adverse effects persisted, a small doubt grew. Emma bought a pregnancy test with shaky hands, her brain dancing with possible results. Emma's thoughts swirled as she held tightly for the results. There was not this in the plan. A baby would affect her relationship with Lily, how she arranged her time with Michael and her whole future. The ringing of the phone startled her out of her whirling thoughts. Emma inhaled fully and then looked down at the test. Two vivid pink lines pointed back at her. Emma dropped to the ground as her legs gave out. She is pregnant. She carried Michael Waverly's child. One thought echoed in Emma's mind as the gravity of her situation struck: What am I going to do now?