She had never felt warmth like this. It was an engulfing heat that burned her skin and took the moisture from her breath. Smoke began to haze over her vision, though there wasn't much to see anyway. The room was dark and seemingly empty. Opening her eyes wider, she looked around the foggy room. Above the dancing flames, Regina saw red curtains.
Regina woke up in a panicked sweat with little recollection as to why. She turned over to touch the mound of pillows on the other side of the bed. Sleep hadn't come easy these past few months. It didn't matter how many pillows she used to form the makeshift bulge, or whether she sprayed them with the perfume that still sat on the second dresser, waking up to a fake was like reliving everything.
She got out of bed to splash some water on her face. Walking down the hallway, she heard noises coming from downstairs. Regina trembled a bit. Someone must have broken in. She nervously stood still, trying to make out the voices. Terrified, she tried to think of her next move. During the day, on the job, Regina was fearless and a force not to be reckoned with. But the nights were when her skin turned soft and her fears were alive. She looked back to the bedroom for help, only to see the lump of pillows. With a deep sigh, Regina remembered there was no sheriff, or white night, or savior to protect her.
Grabbing the baseball bat that she hid under her bed, Regina crept downstairs and moved toward the sound. It seemed isolated to the living room. As she grew closer, the voices became audible. They were female. Expecting to hear conversation pertaining to her possessions, Regina was surprised when she heard laughing. It was Henry's laughter.
It was then that she heard the sound of the crashing waves and seagulls. Her panic subsided, seeing the blue glow from the television set. Stepping into the threshold of the room, Regina looked in to see Henry sitting on the couch.
"Jesus, Henry! It's the middle of the night!" she whispered sternly. "Do you have any idea what I thought when I heard voices?"
"Sorry, Mom," he said, "But she couldn't sleep." Henry looked over to the toddler curled up at the end of the couch.
Regina looked back to the television. "How many times do I need to tell you? I don't want you watching this video. Dr. Hopper said…"
"Dr. Hopper's a quack who earned his PhD from a curse," Henry retorted, reaching for the remote just before Regina could snatch it. "I don't think he's qualified to tell me what I should and shouldn't do to feel better."
Regina knew in that moment that she really should watch what she says around Henry. Recently, she'd taken some liberties, especially when venting her anger about the town.
"Besides," Henry added, stroking the blonde curls of his sister, "you know that she coos and laughs when she hears Ma's voice."
Regina looked over to her sleeping little girl. She was a spitting image of Emma. Everything about her from her looks to her expressions mirrored those of her late wife. Even the way she managed to contort her body in sleep, so snug and secure, reminded Regina of watching her wife sleep many nights. Instead of fighting Henry for the remote, she shrugged her shoulders and sat between her two children.
Henry snuggled up, leaning his head in Regina's lap as the two of them watched the screen. As Regina saw her boy play in the sand, she realized how much he had grown in the past three years. She hadn't seen him laugh that way since then. There was something about Emma that brought out the happiest in him. Watching her chase him in the waves reminded her of that.
"Bet ya can't catch me!"
"Kid, you underestimate my stamina. Need I remind you I'm a bounty hunter."
She was so childlike. It was one of the things they had fought many times about. Regina felt she was immature and incapable of setting a good example for Henry. But as she watched Emma scoop up Henry as he fussed, she remembered how she secretly admired Emma's ability to relate to their son.
Emma looked straight into the camera after plopping Henry down in the sand. "Oh don't think you're missing out on this, Madame Mayor!"
As Emma ran up toward the camera, Henry came to take over recording duties. A burst of laughter and sounds of Regina's playful protesting came right before the screen went fuzzy for a moment. Regina was then looking at herself. Emma rubbed her hands around her swollen belly. She was five months along with Ellie.
"This little girl's gonna be a soccer star the way she kicks."
"Hah…maybe she just doesn't like her Ma tackling her Mom."
"Oh yeah? We'll see about that!"
"EMMA!" Laughter. The way Regina only laughed during those few years of her life. As she watched herself kiss her late wife, Regina wiped a tear away. She grabbed the remote and hit stop. She couldn't take anymore.
Regina kissed Henry on his head and rubbed his back to wake him. While he stretched and yawned, Regina scooped up little Ellie carefully as not to wake her. The three of them made their way up the sloping staircase.
Placing her daughter down in her crib, Regina choked on the tears she had hid from Henry. She wasn't supposed to be doing this alone again. She was supposed to be able to sing to her baby girl while her wife held her. In this moment, Regina was simply grateful that Ellie had yet to realize the absence of a second parent. Regina was not yet ready to tell her about Emma.
Regina returned to her empty room. Looking at the pile of pillows on Emma's side, she knew they wouldn't be enough to comfort her tonight. She walked over to the second closet and opened the doors. The red leather jacket slumped on the hanger, as Emma had always been lazy when putting away her clothes. Regina smiled remembering how much she hated the article of clothing. It represented the very nature of Emma; it was a bold intrusion upon her life that got in her face at every turn. There were so many times that she had fantasized about burning it—even once or twice after they had begun dating. But now, the jacket was one of the few things she still had of her love. Regina took it off the hanger and put her arms through the sleeve. When she wore it, she felt like Emma was holding her. It was much better than a pile of scented pillows.
