Chapter 109 The Waiting

Chapter 109 The Waiting
Saturday morning, I woke up to rain. Heavy, relentless rain that matched my mood perfectly.

Adrian was already awake, sitting in the chair by the window, staring out at the gray sky.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Seven. I've been up since five."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Kept thinking about Monday. About Patricia taking the stand." He turned to look at me. "She's going to be good, Emma. Convincing. She's had weeks to prepare her story, to practice looking sympathetic."

"I know."

"What if the jury believes her? What if they look at her this grieving mother and decide we're the ones lying?"

I got out of bed, went to him. "Then we appeal. We fight. We do whatever comes next."

"You're calmer than I expected."

"I'm terrified. But Adrian, we can't control what happens Monday. We can't control what Patricia says or how the jury reacts. All we can control is how we spend the next two days." I took his hands. "So let's not spend them in fear. Let's spend them with Lily. With each other. Let's have a normal weekend, as much as that's possible."

"A normal weekend."

"Yes. Pancakes for breakfast. Maybe a movie this afternoon. Dinner as a family. Just normal."

Adrian studied my face. "When did you become the calm one?"

"I'm not calm. I'm just tired of being afraid. I want two days where I don't think about the trial. Can we do that?"

"We can try."

Lily was thrilled with the pancake breakfast plan. She helped me mix the batter getting flour everywhere while Adrian attempted to make his "famous" chocolate chip pancakes.

"Daddy, you're burning them!" Lily pointed at the pan.

"I am not burning them. They're just extra crispy."

"That's burnt."

"It's caramelized."

I laughed, watching them bicker. This. This was what I wanted. Normal family moments that had nothing to do with trials or testimonies or Patricia.

Mom came down mid-pancake making, took one look at the chaos flour on the counters, chocolate chips on the floor, Adrian's "caramelized" pancakes smoking slightly and smiled.

"This is nice," she said.

"This is a disaster," Adrian corrected.

"Same thing." Mom started helping clean up. "Emma, honey, you look better today. More rested."

"I decided to stop spiraling about Monday. Just for the weekend."

"Good. That's very healthy." She squeezed my shoulder. "You know, your father used to do that. When things got hard, he'd declare a 'worry-free zone.' Twenty-four hours where we couldn't stress about money or bills or anything. We'd just be together. Focus on what we had instead of what we were afraid of losing."

"I miss him."

"So do I. But Emma, he'd be so proud of you. Of how you've handled all of this. How strong you've been."

"I don't feel strong."

"The strongest people rarely do." Mom turned back to helping Lily, but her words stayed with me.

Strong. Everyone kept calling me strong. But strength felt like a costume I was wearing, not something real.

Maybe that's what strength was, though. Wearing the costume until it became real.

After breakfast, we watched a movie in the living room something animated that Lily had seen a dozen times but still found hilarious. She curled up between Adrian and me on the couch, giggling at all the jokes.

Halfway through, I felt it. A distinct flutter in my stomach. Stronger than before. Not bubbles this time an actual movement.

"Adrian," I whispered, grabbing his hand and placing it on my stomach. "Wait. Just wait."

We sat frozen. Lily kept watching the movie, oblivious. Adrian's hand warm on my stomach.

And then there. A tiny kick. Barely perceptible, but unmistakable.

Adrian's eyes widened. "Was that"

"Ethan. That was Ethan."

He moved his hand slightly, waiting. Another flutter, this time stronger.

"Oh my God," Adrian breathed. "Emma, that's our son. That's" His voice broke. "That's Ethan."

"What's happening?" Lily asked, noticing we'd stopped watching the movie.

"Come here, sweetie." I pulled her hand to my stomach. "Feel right here. Very gently. Your baby brother is saying hello."

Lily's eyes went huge. She waited, perfectly still, her small hand pressed against my stomach. And then Ethan kicked again right against her palm.

"I felt him!" Lily squealed. "Mama, I felt Ethan! He kicked me!"

"He did."

"Does that mean he knows I'm his big sister?"

"I think it means he knows you're going to be amazing," I said, tears streaming down my face.

We sat thereall four of us, soon to be five feeling Ethan move and kick and remind us why all of this mattered. Why the trial mattered. Why fighting Patricia mattered.

This. This family. This life we were building.

It was worth fighting for.

That afternoon, while Lily napped and Mom was reading in her room, I found Adrian in his study. He was pacing, phone in hand.

"I thought we agreed no trial talk this weekend," I said from the doorway.

He startled. "I wasn't I was just checking if Richard had called."

"Adrian."

"I know. I'm sorry. I just" He set down his phone. "I keep thinking about Monday. About what Patricia's going to say. About how the jury's going to react."

"So do I. Every second. But worrying about it doesn't change anything. It just steals the time we have now."

"I don't know how to stop worrying."

"Neither do I. So maybe we don't stop. Maybe we just acknowledge it and do other things anyway." I came into the study, closed the door. "Want to know what I've been doing when the worry gets too loud?"

"What?"

"Making lists. Lists of things I want to do after the trial. Places I want to take Lily. Ways I want to fix up the nursery. Plans for when Ethan's born." I pulled out my phone, showed him the notes app full of lists. "It helps. Focusing on after. On the future we're going to have."

Adrian scrolled through my lists. "You want to take Lily to Disneyland."

"She's five. Every five-year-old should go to Disneyland."

"And you want to plant a garden in the backyard."

"I want Ethan to have somewhere to play when he's older. Somewhere safe and beautiful."

"You want to take cooking classes." He smiled slightly. "Emma, you can barely make toast without burning it."

"Which is why I need classes." I took the phone back. "Adrian, the point isn't whether these plans are realistic. The point is believing there will be an after. That we'll have a future to plan for."

He pulled me close. "What if there isn't? What if Patricia walks and we spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders?"

"Then we still plant the garden. Still take Lily to Disneyland. Still take cooking classes. We don't let her steal our future, even if she's free."

"You really believe that?"

"I'm trying to. Because the alternative giving up, assuming we've already lost that's not living. That's just surviving. And I want more than that for our kids."

Adrian pressed his forehead to mine. "I love you. God, Emma, I love you so much."

"I love you too. Now put the phone down and come help me with dinner. Lily wants to make homemade pizza."

"That's going to be a disaster."

"Probably. But it'll be our disaster. And that's better than worrying about Monday."