Chapter 62
# CHAPTER 2: PENALTY ASSESSMENT
Emma woke up at 3 AM with her stomach churning. She barely made it to the bathroom before morning sickness hit full force.
"Emma?" Alek's sleepy voice called from the bedroom. "You okay?"
"Just something I ate," she lied, splashing cold water on her face. "Go back to sleep."
But when she returned to bed, Alek was sitting up, studying her in the dim light.
"You've been off all week," he said quietly. "What's going on?"
Emma's heart hammered. Tell him about the baby. Just say it. But the words stuck in her throat.
"I'm stressed about the Toronto thing," she said instead. It wasn't completely a lie.
Alek pulled her close. "We don't have to decide anything tonight."
If only it were that simple. Emma lay awake for hours, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach, thinking about the impossible choices ahead.
The next morning brought chaos. Charlotte spilled orange juice all over herself, Frankie had a diaper blowout, and Emma's assistant called with a crisis at the women's league office.
"Three sponsors are threatening to pull out," Lisa explained over speakerphone while Emma wrestled Charlotte into clean clothes. "They're worried about the league's stability if you relocate to Toronto."
Emma's stomach dropped. She hadn't even told her team about the potential move yet.
"How did they find out?" Emma asked.
"Someone leaked it to the press. There's an article in Sports Weekly about Alek's relocation and speculation about what it means for your league."
Emma closed her eyes. This was getting worse by the minute.
"Schedule a meeting with all the sponsors for tomorrow," she decided. "I'll handle damage control."
After hanging up, Emma found Alek in the kitchen, reading the same article on his phone. His jaw was tight with anger.
"I specifically asked the board to keep this confidential until we made a decision," he said.
"Well, it's out now." Emma poured herself orange juice, then remembered she couldn't have citrus with morning sickness. She set the glass down untouched.
Alek looked up from his phone. "You're not drinking your juice."
"Not in the mood."
"You love orange juice." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Emma, what's—"
"Mama!" Charlotte ran into the kitchen, holding her stuffed elephant. "Ellie's ear is broken!"
Emma examined the tiny tear in the elephant's fabric. "We can fix this, sweetie. Let's get some thread."
But as she searched the junk drawer for sewing supplies, her vision suddenly blurred. The room tilted sideways.
"Emma!" Alek caught her as she swayed. "Sit down. Now."
"I'm fine," she protested, but her legs felt like jelly.
"No, you're not." Alek guided her to a chair, then knelt beside her. "When's the last time you ate?"
Emma tried to remember. Yesterday's lunch? Maybe?
"That's what I thought." Alek stood and pulled out his phone. "I'm calling Katie to come watch the kids. You're seeing a doctor."
"I don't need—"
"Emma." Alek's voice was firm. "You almost fainted. With everything going on, the last thing we need is you getting sick."
Katie arrived within twenty minutes, took one look at Emma's pale face, and shooed them toward the door.
"Go," she said. "The kids and I will be fine."
In the car, Alek kept glancing at Emma with worried eyes. "Maybe we should go to the emergency room instead of urgent care."
"It's probably just stress," Emma said, but she was worried too. What if something was wrong with the baby?
The urgent care clinic was busy, giving Emma time to think. She should tell Alek about the pregnancy before the doctor did. But every time she opened her mouth, fear closed her throat.
What if he was angry? What if this pregnancy was the final straw that made him choose Toronto over their marriage?
"Emma Mitchell-Volkov?" A nurse called her name.
Dr. Martinez was kind but thorough, asking questions about Emma's symptoms while Alek sat in the corner, watching everything with sharp eyes.
"Any chance you could be pregnant?" Dr. Martinez asked.
Emma's heart stopped. "I... possibly."
Alek straightened in his chair. "What?"
"Let's do a quick test," Dr. Martinez said, apparently oblivious to the tension crackling between Emma and her husband.
Five minutes later, the doctor returned with a smile. "Congratulations. You're about six weeks pregnant."
The room went silent. Alek stared at Emma, his expression unreadable.
"Six weeks?" he repeated slowly.
Emma nodded, unable to speak.
Dr. Martinez launched into advice about prenatal vitamins and early pregnancy symptoms, but Emma barely heard him. She was too focused on Alek's face, trying to read his emotions.
In the car afterward, neither of them spoke for several blocks.
Finally, Alek pulled over and turned to face her. "Six weeks. You've known for how long?"
"I just found out yesterday," Emma said quietly. "The morning of your board meeting."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I was going to, but then you came home with the Toronto news, and the timing seemed—"
"There's never a perfect time for this kind of news, Emma." Alek's voice was carefully controlled. "We're supposed to be partners."
"We are partners."
"Partners don't keep secrets about pregnancies."
Emma felt tears threatening. "I wasn't keeping it secret. I was waiting for the right moment."
"The right moment?" Alek laughed, but there was no humor in it. "When would that have been? After we moved to Toronto? After you miscarried from stress? When, Emma?"
The word "miscarried" hit her like a physical blow. "Don't say that."
Alek's expression immediately softened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." He reached for her hand. "I'm scared too, okay? This changes everything."
"I know." Emma's voice was barely a whisper.
"Three kids, Emma. Three kids under three years old."
"I know."
"And now I'm supposed to choose between my career and my family."
Emma looked at him sharply. "I never said you had to choose."
"Didn't you?" Alek started the car again. "Because that's what this feels like. The board wants me in Toronto. You can't move your business. And now there's another baby coming."
They drove home in heavy silence, both lost in their own thoughts.
At home, Katie took one look at their faces and quietly gathered her things. "Call if you need anything," she said, giving Emma a meaningful look.
That evening, after the kids were in bed, Emma and Alek sat on opposite ends of their couch, the space between them feeling like an ocean.
"We need to talk about this," Alek said finally.
"I know."
"Three children. Toronto. Your league. My job." He ran his hands through his hair. "How do we make this work?"
Emma wished she had an answer. "I don't know."
"That's not good enough, Emma. We have two weeks to figure out our entire future."
"So what do you want me to say?" Emma's voice rose despite her efforts to stay calm. "That I'll give up everything I've built here? That I'll follow you to Toronto and pretend to be happy about it?"
"I want you to talk to me!" Alek stood up, pacing. "I want you to stop keeping secrets and start acting like we're in this together!"
"We are in this together!"
"Are we? Because it feels like you're making decisions without me. Like you decided to handle the pregnancy alone, just like you're handling everything else alone."
Emma stared at him, hurt and anger warring in her chest. "That's not fair."
"Isn't it?" Alek stopped pacing and looked at her directly. "When's the last time you asked for my help with anything? When's the last time you let me be your partner instead of just the guy who lives here?"
The accusation stung because it held a grain of truth. Emma had been handling more and more on her own, telling herself she was being strong. But maybe she'd been pushing Alek away without realizing it.
"I don't know how to do this," she admitted quietly.
"Do what?"
"Balance everything. Be a good mother, a good wife, a good businesswoman. And now there's another baby coming, and your career is taking off, and I feel like I'm drowning."
Alek's anger deflated. He sat back down, this time closer to her. "Why didn't you just say that?"
"Because I'm supposed to be strong. I'm a Mitchell. We handle things."
"You're also human, Emma. And you're my wife. You don't have to handle everything alone."
Emma leaned into his warmth, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders. "I'm scared about the baby."
"Me too."
"And I'm scared about Toronto."
"Yeah. Me too."
They sat in silence for a moment, both processing the magnitude of their situation.
"We'll figure it out," Alek said finally. "All of it. But we have to do it together. No more secrets."
Emma nodded. "No more secrets."
But even as she said it, Emma wondered if that was a promise they could keep.
Because some secrets weren't about hiding the truth.
Some secrets were about being afraid of what the truth might cost them.