EMMA'S POV
We don't talk about what happened in the car.
For a week, we move around each other even more carefully than before. Dominic leaves early for work, comes home late. I eat dinner with Mrs. Kowalski and pretend everything is normal.
It's not normal.
I'm sixteen weeks pregnant now. There's a small bump that I can't hide anymore. The babies move sometimes, little flutters that remind me this is real.
On Friday, Mrs. Kowalski corners me in the kitchen.
"You need to talk to him."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't play dumb with me, kochanie. You and Mr. Dominic, you're both miserable."
"We're fine."
"You're both in love and too stubborn to admit it."
I nearly drop my water glass. "I'm not in love with him."
"No?" She raises an eyebrow. "Then why you cry every night? Why
