The Iceberg Tipping

The baby was crying when Emma got home and the house felt empty, the walls screaming out in longing for someone to touch them. Emma sympathized, brushing her fingers nimbly along them as she raced towards the baby’s room. “There, there, baby,” she whispered, bending over his crib and pulling him out. She rested his stomach against her shoulder and patted his back gently, bobbing up and down with her knees. “Baby, Jacob,” she whispered, smiling too wide for her face.
indent Jacob stopped crying and she took that as a sign. She started for the kitchen, starting to make dinner, something she hadn’t done in nearly a year. She bounced a few times, hearing Jacob make the baby equivalent to a giggle. Emma shivered, feeling how cute it was.
indent “Emma? Jacob?” her mother’s voice sounded as the front door slammed shut. “Emma, honey?” she asked loudly, coming around the corner and into the kitchen where it was starting to smell like cooking cheese. “You’re cooking?” her voice betrayed how excited that made her.
indent “Yup,” were Emma’s only words as she one handedly cut up more cheese to throw into the pan. She’d done it enough in a past life to feel confident enough to do it now with a baby in her arms. Her mom quickly bustled Jacob away from the knife, leaving Emma feeling a little discouraged, however, she merely shrugged. It was easy to pretend you didn’t care when you spent so long honestly not caring.
indent Emma’s sleeve lifted up a little as she reached out to toss the new bits of cheese into the pot. There were only fading marks there and Emma wasn’t sure how that was supposed to make her feel. She couldn’t exactly feel happy that so many months work went to waste like that, but she couldn’t really feel sad that she wasn’t in pain anymore. In a way it felt good to have the hole beating again in her chest; it felt right to be at home again. “What are you making, Emma?” her mother asked, taking a deep breath. “It smells good,” she continued, smiling largely in her daughter’s direction.
indent “Macaroni bake?” Emma asked, a small laugh perched on her lips. She might have even chuckled had the doorbell not rung in that same moment. “I’ll get it,” Emma said, still smiling as she made her way quickly to the door. She could see the vague, but tall, shadow behind the glass, but didn’t even think about it before swinging the door open.
indent “Hey, I’m kind of cooking right now so can we make this quick?” she asked at the same time James murmured, “hello.” Emma’s face fell entirely, the laugh stuck to her tongue became a scream and she stumbled back, a little, into the room again. 

indent “Came by to say, hey,” James stated brightly, not noticing the fearful way she was staring at him or the way she was slowly edging away from the area. The stairs were only feet away, she could make it if she sprinted; if she could work up the nerve. “Something wrong?” he asked, finally looking at the way her muscles stood rigid.
indent Emma shook her head, “N-no.” The cheese was burning in the kitchen and she could have used it as an escape or an excuse but she could only stand there horrified.
indent “Baby, what’s wrong?” James asked, hugging her against him even as she subtly tried to get away. There was no getting away from him and there was no facing this demon. Emma felt stuck again and Emma no longer felt at home.