Chapter 143

The apartment was filled with the smell of waffles and fresh coffee, sunlight spilling across the counters and catching on the soft swirl of steam rising from the pan. Abigail stood at the stove, barefoot and comfortable in one of her hoodies, humming quietly to herself as she flipped another waffle onto the stack.

Behind her, Emma sat at the kitchen island, robe tied loosely, hands cupped around a mug of chamomile tea. Her curls framed her face in a halo of soft gold, and her eyes carried that particular sparkle that told Abigail she was keeping something to herself.

Abigail turned off the waffle iron and glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “Okay,” she said, sliding another strip of bacon onto a plate. “You’ve got that look.”

Emma tilted her head, playing coy. “What look?”

“The look that says you’re about to tell me something good.”

Emma tried to hide her grin behind her mug but failed almost immediately. “Alright, fine. Guess what, baby.”

Abigail laughed. “You know I’m terrible at guessing. What’s up?”

“I got the official email this morning,” Emma said, her tone suddenly brighter. “I’m teaching again starting Monday.”

Abigail blinked in surprise before breaking into a wide smile. “Wait—what? Really?” She turned off the stove completely and came to stand in front of her. “That’s amazing, Em! What are you teaching?”

Emma’s grin widened. “They added me to the B-session schedule at Columbia. I’ll be handling Guitar 101, Piano 101, and the performance workshops to prep students for the showcases.”

Abigail’s hands came up instinctively, framing her face as she laughed softly. “That’s perfect for you. You’ve been talking about wanting to get back into teaching since before the semester started.”

Emma nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah… it just feels right. They said a couple of instructors had to step back for the second half of the term, and my department chair reached out yesterday asking if I’d consider filling in. I said yes before she even finished the sentence.”

Abigail leaned down, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re going to be incredible. Those students are lucky to have you. Seriously, baby, you bring music to life for people.”

Emma tilted her head up to meet her gaze, a faint flush touching her cheeks. “You’re biased.”

“Completely,” Abigail said without hesitation. “But I’m also right.”

Emma chuckled and leaned into her, resting her head against Abigail’s chest. “It’s just nice to feel like myself again, you know? Being around students, hearing them play, watching them grow—it’s the best part of the job.”

Abigail traced small circles along her arm, smiling. “And you’re going to balance it beautifully. You’ve still got time for you, for us, and the baby.”

Emma’s expression softened. She looked up again, her eyes glowing in the morning light. “Thank you for always believing in me.”

“Always,” Abigail whispered, kissing her gently. “You make it easy.”

Emma laughed against her lips. “You’re going to make me emotional before breakfast.”

Abigail grinned, guiding her toward the table. “Then sit down before I have to start feeding you waffles to calm you down.”

Emma slid onto the chair, reaching for a piece of bacon. “You know, you could come help with my performance workshop sometime. You’re a natural when it comes to presence and rhythm.”

Abigail raised an eyebrow as she brought over plates. “You mean I get to watch you teach? I don’t know if that’s a good idea I might get distracted.”

Emma smirked. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep your attention.”

Abigail laughed, setting her plate down beside hers and leaning in to kiss her once more. “Deal, Professor.”

“Don’t call me that,” Emma said, feigning seriousness. “Unless you plan on staying after class.”

Abigail bit back a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”