I straighten my tie again as we walk into Lyre, the fancy restaurant that Emma’s parents chose to meet her at. As Emma gives her name at the hostess stand and the hostess ushers us onward through the restaurant, I can’t help my racing heart.

I put my hand onto Emma’s lower back as we walk, unnerved. She’s wearing a lemon yellow dress, and I’m wearing a full suit. I’m fucking sweating, and not just because it’s hot outside. I won’t show it outside, but in my head, I’m all but shaking with my fear.

I know how this will probably go. In all likelihood, her parents will see us together, see us touching, and get angry. They’ll know who I am; after all, they kicked me and my brothers out of squatting on their property no less then four separate times.

They’ll know that I come from nothing. They’ll know that I’m not good enough for Emma, and that my childhood poverty is only one of the reasons that makes me unworthy.

And if Asher had anything to say about it, I’m sure that his parents already know that their family money financed Cure. So even the bar, which is definitely my baby, wont really help me out here.

I am second guessing myself, second guessing everything I am, on this walk through the tables. Everything sort of blurs as we walk: the white linen tablecloths, the patrons talking, the faint chime of glassware and tableware being moved around. It only occurs to me when we see Emma’s parents that I’ve not only agreed to live out my worst nightmare, but I encouraged it.

What the fuck was I thinking?

But then there they are, the Alderisis. Albert is in his late fifties, tall and heavy and silver at the temples. Nancy is a few years younger, and thin as a dagger in her pink dress. My mouth goes dry, my expression hardens.

I see them spot me. I see her father take in the way I’m touching her back. It takes them both a second to place me, but when they do her father turns red and her mother’s nostrils flare.

I know that I’m a grown ass man, but in that moment, I’m also a scared little boy. I’m praying that they don’t kick my family out of our temporary home.

Emma stands up a little straighter as we approach. Albert throws his linen napkin on the table and starts to stand up. Emma forestalls him with a gesture.

“You both remember Jameson, don’t you?” she says.

I slide my glance to her, impressed by how ice cold her tone has become. She primly presses her lips together for a second, waiting for them to speak. Her parents just glower at the two of us.

“Emmaline…” her mother says, her voice high pitched. “This is inappropriate. We should talk about this privately, just the three of us.”

“You are fooling no one, young man,” her father says to me. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here with my little girl--”

“Talk to me!” Emma says, loudly enough to make the couple seated at the next table stare. “If you have something to say to Jameson, you can address it to me. There’s no reason to drag him into the dirt.”

“Emma—” her father says, standing up. “I swear to god, you need to quit playing games, here.”

Emma’s jaw juts out, and she cocks her hip. “My relationship with Jameson is serious. Dead serious. As in, I’m wearing his ring, kind of serious.”

Nancy gasps, her hand flying over her mouth. Albert begins to sweat, his veins in his forehead popping out.

“You listen to me, little girl,” he sneers.

“No!” Emma says.

“Em—” I try to interject, but she shoots me a look that makes me shut up.

“Listen to me,” she says, taking my hand. “You already lost Asher over trying to dictate who he could and could not marry. Anything you do to punish me? It will only drive me away, just like it did with him. Are you ready to do that?”

Her father loses his shit. “You foolish little—”

“Stop!” Nancy shouts, drawing the eyes of everyone in the restaurant. She stands up, folding her napkin and putting it on the table. “Would you two like to sit?”

“Like hell they’re going to sit!” Albert growls.

Nancy looks at him, and there is something that passes between them, some sort of argument. After a second, it’s clear that Nancy wins. She turns to us with a frosty smile.

“You’ll sit, won’t you?” She motions to the two unoccupied chairs at the table.

I blink, confused. Albert is still furious and red, but he just sits back down, yanking his napkin off the table. Nancy continues to look at us questioningly.

I look to Emma, who looks like she’s just won some kind of war. “Are we going to sit?”

“Yes, I think so.” Her lips curve upwards in a smile.

I pull out her chair for her, and then sit beside her. Nancy sits too, tucking her napkin back on her lap.

“Champagne?” Nancy asks, her expression unreadable. “One should toast good news, like that of being engaged. Right?”

“Right,” Emma says lightly. “We definitely should.”

Her mother snaps her fingers, calling for the waiter. When Emma picks her menu up, I can see her trembling. I stare for a second, then reach out and cover her shaking fingers with my own.

Emma looks at me. For a moment, I can see everything she has been hiding since the moment we walked into this restaurant. The fear, the pain, the anxiety, all pent up.

She was just as nervous as I was, just as afraid. She just spoke up anyway.

I kiss her knuckles, unbelievably glad that I somehow got so damned lucky to be with this incredible, amazing girl.

And I know that with every bit of my soul, I will do my best to keep this girl safe and happy.

Forever.