Her eyes wandered around the room discretely as her fork stabbed at a stray crouton. Though she'd never have said it out loud, she liked the way that other people looked at them. The way their all too obvious glances would bounce back and forth from his infectious smile to the diamond on her finger. Why, she'd even straighten up intently in her seat and laugh a little bit louder than necessary at his jokes just to lure their glances.

And whenever she felt guilty from the attention, Emma assured herself that the past thirteen years of her adult life had earned her the right to a little bit of the spotlight. All those empty nights alone in her condo, picking at her symmetrically portioned dinners while her tiny kitchen TV blared in the background to keep the silence of loneliness from driving her to tears (or worse: dangerous thoughts about a certain married coworker).

Not to mention all those failed attempts at evenings out where she also had sat alone, shrinking in defeat as patrons' eyebrows rose skeptically as she wiped down her table for the third time. Feeling the weight of their whispers crawling on her skin, on more than one occasion she had shoved her plastic packaged silverware back into her purse and bolted before the waiter had even taken her order.

Those moments felt a world away now. She didn't bat an eye when the waitress' fingertips latched dangerously close to the edge of her wine glass, and her heart didn't race when a toddler sneezed across the room. But her pulse rate did pick up a little when a teenage girl would tilt her head in fascination at the gorgeous man sitting across from her, whose constant gaze told her he had scarcely paused to notice that there were even other people in the restaurant besides his wife.

His wife. The word had felt so foreign in her mouth at first, but after a few months she had learned to appreciate the taste of it. He's not home right now. This is his wife. . .Well can you tell him his wife dropped . . .

"Emma?"

She snapped out of her thoughts to smile across the table at him. "Yes?"

"You've been staring at that crouton for ten seconds," he whispered as he raised an eyebrow in mock concern. "I'm starting to get a little jealous."

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Always an attractive quality," he grinned. "Care to share?"

"I was just-" She gave a quick sideways glance to the group of gawking girls sitting across the room before deciding to cover her tracks- "I was just thinking about how happy I am."

"Ems, you have no idea how happy that makes me to hear you say that," he began, his grin widening into a smile before he leaned across the table to kiss her forehead.

His love and her contented sigh should have been enough for her. But as she stole another peak around the crowded restaurant her gaze skidded to a halt at the reservation table. And the weight of her discovery slammed her back against her seat. And naturally, she did the most childish, irrational thing she could possibly have done in the situation.

She ducked.

After a few seconds, a soft knock replaced the sound of her heavy breathing.

"Emma? Why are you under the table?"

She winced, cautiously eyeing the rainbow of gum wads that adorned the table's underbelly. "Uh. I think I dropped my fork under here."

"Sweetheart, you dropped your fork back into your salad before you-"

Emma swallowed thickly as a muffled yet all too familiar Hello vibrated through the table, her eyes agape in horror as she watched Carl's legs scoot his chair back before he stood abruptly. "Uh hey bro, how's it going?" Oh God. She was going to faint. She was going to faint in a pile of stale, saliva covered breadstick shavings that covered the shoddy carpet and everyone in the world was about to see it.

"Ems, look who's here."

She managed to pull her way out from under her hiding place, but not before the top of her head caught the edge of the wood with a tiny thud. Standing up to frantically brush the beads of crumb that had caught onto her skirt, she smiled weakly at both of them.

"Oh hey, Will. I didn't see you come in, and I dropped my. . .er " she eyed her salad bowl . . .my spoon under the table and, hey! Wow, yeah that is so funny because I did not see you here. Are you leaving?" Please be leaving. Suddenly feeling the awkwardness of the three of them standing around the table, she slid back down into her chair and hastily took a gulp from her wine glass. When she regained the nerve to look up, she noticed his glance was bouncing from Carl to their food to the front door. Anywhere but her.

"Uh, no actually we were waiting up front. It seems like everyone in town is here tonight and they said it was going to be a thirty minute wait. I was just on my way to the restroom."

"Oh well, tell your parents I said hi." She gulped at Carl's frown. "I mean, not that I know your parents, because I don't. Just, uh, hope they enjoy the breadsticks, I mean, the dinner."

She took another sip as Will blinked in confusion. "Well, I can certainly tell my parents you said hi but they're not with me tonight. I'm actually-"

"Mr. Schuester," Carl grinned, slapping him on the back, "are you on a date?"

The two men stood in silence for a second as Will feigned interest in the carpet, his hands creeping into his pockets before he answered tentatively. "Well in 30 to 45 minutes I hope to be." Emma could feel the contents of her lunch creeping up her esophagus as she poked mindlessly at a leaf of lettuce.

"Nonsense! You can join the Mrs. and myself. Right Ems?"

"Carl," she dropped her fork, reaching forward to tug at his hand before guiding him into the chair next to her. "I don't think that he wants to join us when he's on a date."

"What do you say, bro, surely you can join a boring old married couple for an evening?" he looped his arm around her shoulder at the word married. "We should catch up. Come on, we'll even talk you up in front of your girl."

"Well, I guess I don't really want to spend that much time waiting."

"Exactly," Carl answered, removing his hand from Emma's shoulder to flick at a breadstick in the basket. "Not for these pieces of cardboard. Tell you what, I'll even set you two up with your first round of drinks. Now go get your woman. I can't wait to meet her."

Will's eyes finally landed on her, asking for permission. She shot a weak smile back at him, twisting the base of her glass between her fingers as she choked out the reassurance he was seeking.

"Yeah, Will, it'll be great."

True, Emma Pillsbury-Howell had loved the sideways glances and jealous sighs that floated in her direction throughout the evening. But in hindsight, she realized she had had no idea that a sideshow of a whole other proportion was about to attract the eyes of every person in Breadsticks that evening.

She took another determined stab at her salad as she caught a streak of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. Suddenly she was feeling nostalgic for those cozy evenings she had spent eating alone in her condo.