PROLOGUE

This is it. I'm actually going through with this.

Emma Swan took a deep breath, exhaled and opened the door to the fertility clinic. She was greeted by an overly friendly receptionist (geez, someone took their happy pill this morning), who gave her a form to fill out. Name, address… family medical history? Emma chuckled bitterly to herself and shook her head. Like she would know.

The procedure was fairly quick. Sperm goes in, now we wait.

Sitting in her yellow bug in the clinic parking lot, Emma looked back on how her past brought her to this strange moment, one she never would have predicted not long ago…

She never thought she liked kids.

Growing up in the foster system, she was constantly surrounded by kids of all ages. They were smelly, ill-behaved and, quite simply, a nuisance. She avoided them, for the most part. Ever since her foster family returned her to the home once they had their own child, she just didn't think she was worth anything to anyone, and so she didn't bother trying to form close relationships with her peers.

Of course, that all changed when she met Neal Cassidy, a young man who was running away from a bad home situation. In Neal she found someone she connected with, someone with a past similar to hers: they were both without a real home or a family. And Emma Swan was in love, falling quickly and hard and it was everything she could have dreamed of.

When Neal proposed, Emma was overjoyed — finally, a promise for the family she never truly had.

What she did not expect — and who would have? — was that Neal would disappear without a trace just days after the proposal.

Not only was she devastated and determined to never trust anyone ever again, Emma was also a few weeks pregnant. Neal never knew.

Emma battled with herself, trying to decide whether to keep this child. Ultimately, it was the fact that she was young, jobless and without a real home that brought her to realize that a life with an adopted family would allow him a much better chance than a life with her.

And so, once the baby boy was born, Emma shook her head when they tried to pass her her son. Just glancing at his eyes, pure and innocent, brought a stab of pain into Emma's core — in the boy she first saw her Neal, who had once made her feel priceless and then betrayed her as if she was worth nothing. She then saw a boy who had a life of hope ahead of him, which brought her a sliver of peace in this moment of agony.

Throughout the following years, Emma would once in a while think about the son that she gave away. Any doubts that she had would fade once she remembered her circumstances at the time… and of course that she didn't like kids, anyway.

Not long after her little boy was born and promptly taken away, Emma decided she needed to improve her situation. She did waitressing jobs here and there, moved into an apartment, and eventually got herself into nursing school.

Despite having built a life for herself, Emma was still alone. Not that she minded, no. Other people weren't to be trusted, and she was truly convinced that the solo life was the life for her. But this conviction, while etched into her everyday being for many years, slowly subsided.

A decade after giving away her son, Emma started feeling as though something was missing in her life. This was an odd feeling to her. Until then, she had felt satisfied with her career as a nurse; she had quite a bit of success with it and it took up much of her time. But something just wasn't right.

Late at night she'd find herself thinking of the child she had turned away many years ago, wondering if he was all right, or even happy. After some time, a peculiar idea popped into Emma's mind: to have another baby, one that she would keep this time.

To her surprise, this idea didn't bother her. In fact, as it brewed, the idea made her feel happier than she had been in a long time. Maybe she wouldn't mind having a kid after all. She certainly had the means and the maturity to support him or her. And, best of all, this baby would be her companion — a rather more reliable one than any friend or lover would be; the piece in her soul she didn't know was missing.

After much contemplation, it was decided. And the best part was, she didn't need a man to have a baby — at least, she didn't need a relationship with him. She didn't even need to meet him! Her coworker had once mentioned that his sister had gotten artificial insemination from an anonymous sperm donor, which sounded simple enough to Emma. Ideal, even.

And she'd found the perfect donor, too…

Emma's thoughts were interrupted by a rapping sound coming from her half-open window.

"Ma'am, your parking ticket's expired. You need to buy another one or leave the lot."

"Oh, sorry, leaving now," she smiled.

On the drive back to her apartment, Emma daydreamed about her new baby. She was going to love the hell out of that kid.

She pictured herself and the little boy — or girl — taking over the world, just the two of them. A dynamic duo. Perhaps, dare she think it, a happily ever after?

CHAPTER 1

Six weeks after her pregnancy test turned up positive, Emma woke up one Saturday morning craving hot cocoa.

While most mornings Emma would feel too nauseous to eat or drink anything, this morning seemed strangely different.

As she sat on the edge of her bed and faced the full-length mirror leaning against her bedroom wall, she pulled up her top to examine her belly. If she turned her head to the side and squinted a bit, she thought she could make out a teeny tiny baby bump. Well, it was either a baby bump or the unfortunate result of binge-eating doughnuts (probably the latter, but she wouldn't want to admit it).

Emma pulled on a sweater, not bothering to change out of her incredibly comfortable "jogging" pants that she basically wore all the time now. She honestly didn't mind what anyone else would think of her sloppy attire; it's not like she was trying to impress anyone or anything. It's thediner, for goodness' sake.

Upon entering Granny's, her favourite spot for a quiet drink (before her pregnancy, this would include both the occasional inebriant as well as her favourite hot cocoa - always with a dash of cinnamon), she made her order at the counter and found an empty booth to slide into, sitting on the side facing the entryway.

Besides her Bug, the diner was another place where Emma could easily get lost in her thoughts. Nowadays her daydreams were focused on her and her child's future - there was so much to prepare for, so many choices to make. She knew she had (approximately) nine months to figure it all out, but you could never be too prepared. Emma did not want any big surprises, that was for sure.

A figure entering the bar jarred Emma back to the present. There was something about him that looked familiar, so familiar, but she really couldn't put her finger on it. When he turned to order at the counter, Emma ran through her memories trying to figure out who was this guy.

But then he turned to face her, his eyes blue and bright and piercing into hers, and she knew exactly who he was: #3784.

Or, to be more precise, the father of her unborn child.

Emma knew she had found the one when donor #3784's profile popped up on her screen. She was first taken aback by how handsome he looked in his picture- No one's eyes can be that blue, she thought to herself.

In all honesty, unbelievable good looks were not Emma's top priority. No, she wanted a donor who was intelligent, well-educated, healthy and kind. But she couldn't deny that #3784's charismatic smile sent a shiver down her spine.

She also had to admit her attraction to the rest of his profile. Born and raised in the UK but relocated to America six years ago, #3784 had a Marine Engineering degree at Plymouth, no serious medical concerns, and he seemed, well, pretty dang charming in his written interview. He even fit some criteria that she didn't even realize she had wanted; for example, he was musically gifted (a pianist and singer).

So sure, she'd have his baby. Why not. Let's go for it.

Little did she know she'd one day be face-to-face with those same blue eyes and that same charismatic smile.

She looked away quickly, not wanting him to think that she was staring. He didn't appear to notice; a newspaper in one hand and a coffee mug in the other, he went to grab a seat in opposite corner of the small diner.

Feeling comforted that he had decided not to assume anything of her ogling, she decided to go back to planning for the baby.

However, as hard as she tried, she could no longer focus on maternity leaves and nursery colours. Her gaze kept being drawn back to the man with the dark brown hair and gorgeous eyes, reading the paper, seemingly oblivious to her gaping.

It was purely out of interest in her future child, she insisted to herself. She'd peer over and study the way his jaw moved when he took a sip of coffee, the way he'd lick his bottom lip and furrow his brow when he seemed to be thinking deeply about what he was reading. Different from his donor profile picture, where he was clean-shaven, he had grown a short, scruffy beard.

After a while she decided that since she couldn't stop watching him, she should probably leave before he notices.

However, she was only steps outside of Granny's when she heard a door open behind her.

"Miss! I do apologize if my exceptional handsomeness distracted you from your thoughts."

What the hell? But then she turned to see... him, grinning at her. Oh shit.

"Excuse me?"

"I couldn't help but notice you were-"

"Oh, yeah, I just thought I knew you from somewhere, never mind," she asserted before he could finish, turning away.

"Ah, that's quite all right. Not a worry."

Phew. Emma was more than relieved to have survived this extraordinarily bizarre encounter with the man who just happened to be her baby's father. She continued to walk in the direction of her apartment, figuring he had probably gone back inside once his curiosity was satisfied.

But he had not.

"Pardon me, again, miss, I just realized I needed to send a letter to my friend. Would you happen to know where the post office is?"

A familiar feeling of panic began to creep in under Emma's skin. Her thoughts battled in effort to reconcile that Yes, this is my baby's fatherand Jesus he is a complete stranger asking for directions.

I should probably just give him the directions and then lie about having left something at the diner, go back in and wait, and THEN walk home. And promptly forget that this entire thing happened.

She blinked a few times and responded, "Um, yeah, I do. I'm actually going in that direction, I'll walk you there."

What the hell am I doing?! I thought I was going to go back to Granny's!

But she couldn't bring herself to. There was that something about him, the something that she had seen in his profile that was even more potent in person. Emma felt like she could trust him, and this feeling terrified her.

"Fantastic, thanks."

Her heart pounding with apprehension, she added coolly, "But I'm only letting you walk with me because my apartment is just past there, so don't get any ideas that I think you're 'exceptionally handsome' or anything."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

They started walking side by side; Emma kept her arms crossed and avoided his gaze in an attempt to ward off small talk as she tried to calm her nerves. She should have known it'd be futile.

"Well, seeing as you don't know me from anywhere, I suppose I'll introduce myself. Killian Jones." He stopped walking and extended his hand.

She grabbed it and shook, feeling a squirm in her stomach when his eyes met hers. This twist in her abdomen reminded her of a certain fact that made her heart race even faster.

"Emma Swan." Promptly she released her grip, placed her hand on her stomach - then quickly to her hip - and looked down.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan. Especially since you're helping me out, and most certainly do not think I am exceptionally handsome."

Emma shook her head, forced a smile, and carried on walking. Killian kept up with her slightly hastened pace.

"So, Miss Swan, how long have you lived in Boston?"

Realizing her arms were uncrossed, she folded them once more. "For as long as I can remember," she replied.

"Do you like it here?"

Puzzled, Emma scrunched her face - she'd never really thought about it before.

"I suppose... I mean, it's home, I guess."

"You don't seem all that confident," he joked.

"Honestly, I have wanted to get away from here in the past. I guess I've just been too afraid to leave what's familiar, leave the vague sense of home."

Wait a sec. Did I just confide in him? Am I forgetting that despite carrying his child I have known him for about five minutes? I swear to God if he's a psycho stalker...

"I know how you feel," he murmured.

For the first time since shaking his hand, Emma looked at him.

"Really? I was sure you'd think I'm crazy."

He met her gaze warmly. "No, I don't think you're crazy. In fact, I was once in a similar situation myself."

They walked in silence for another few paces before he spoke again.

"When my Milah died, deep down I knew I needed a change of scenery. Staying where we had spent many years together did no good for me. But I resisted any thoughts of leaving, because even though staying had caused me great pain, it was familiar there; it was still my home."

"Yeah, I get that," Emma said softly, pulling a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Despite the insanity of the situation, she felt oddly at ease with Killian. She had confided in him, and he had returned the gesture. It was as if they had known each other forever.

This has to be too good to be true.

Fortunately, before the anxiety could set in, they approached the post office.

Stopping and turning to face him, she announced, "Well, here it is."

He smiled. "Thank you, m'lady."

Emma waited for him to turn into the entryway, but he remained standing there, smiling at her.

"What?" she asked after a moment.

"Miss Swan, would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

Emma was caught off guard. "Oh! Uh..."

That would be the most ridiculous idea ever, having dinner with the man who is the father of my child... but, well, he wouldn't have to know, would he?

But can I really afford to trust him?

"I'm apologize for my forwardness, m'lady. I just sense-"

"Yes, sure," she interrupted quickly.

"I'm sorry?"

"Yes, I will have dinner with you," she said, astonished to hear the words coming out of her mouth.

Killian grinned. "Great. Granny's at 7?"

"Uh, yeah, okay."

"Perfect."

As he turned to enter the post office, Emma's mind was racing with a single thought: What on earth have I done?