You wake up to an empty bed, her side is cold and untouched and perfectly made in the pale, watery light of the sun rise. You see her side with her absent from it and it makes your stomach ache, weighing you down as it has every morning for the past three months. It feels as though lead weights have nestled deep inside you, heavy and radiating cold. It's all your fault of course, you told her to leave your bed in a fit of anger and although you really didn't mean it, she is yet to return.
It's strange because although you know that she is just down the hall, in the second guest room to the left (as far away from your shared room as it is possible to get inside the confines of the mansion) it feels as if she is an entire world away. It would probably be easier if she was. With her this close, the unending distance between you feels like the beginning of the end. But it can't be. You know for a fact that you don't want it to be.
The distance between you isn't something that you recognise, it's something that has never been there before, not even in the earlier stages of your relationship. You don't know how to tackle it, and you most certainly don't know how to bridge the ever building gap between you. You hadn't even noticed the cracks in your relationship until it had become a chasm between you. By that point all you had built together seemed unsalvageable.
Still, the idea of living without her makes you feel numb. You don't want that, you'll never want that. You don't think you can go back to living without her, but at the same time the two of you can't go on like this. You're both miserable, but you don't know how to reach out and make it all better. This isn't something that a band aid and love will fix.
You wish that love was enough to fix whatever the problem the two of you had was. If that was the case, a problem would never have arisen in the first place. The distance never would have begun to form.
Every one had always doubted your relationship but never before have you had a cause to. You were two opposites and you didn't make any logical sense. Logic had never come into it though, but perhaps it should have at some point.
You hear shuffling down the hall, socked feet in the carpet and legs that stumble on the stairs on the way to the kitchen. You can see Emma's face in your mind. Eyes half closed, mouth open in a sleepy yawn and hair a mess. You know that, despite the hurt and confusion that she's feeling, she's still on her way downstairs to make you both coffee. It's the small things such as this that send a tiny spark of hope flooding through your system because the small things matter.
You come home from work late, and you find Emma in the kitchen humming along to the radio and making you dinner. It's a beautiful sight, one that makes you pause and admire your wife. After collecting yourself, you put your handbag on the island and begin to help her. You two don't talk, you don't need to. Despite the distance between you, the perfected routine the two of you used to have is easy to follow. You work in harmony and for once the distance between you feels like it can be crossed. For once you don't ache quote as much.
During dinner, the two of you make small talk about your respective days before falling silent. There isn't much to say when you know each other better than you now the back of your own hand. For once the silence doesn't feel quite so unbearable, you don't feel quite so alone in it, even when it washes over you in a wave.
Once again, you work together to clear away after dinner. Emma rinses and you load the dishwasher. As you're putting the last dish in, you hear her clear her throat and you know that she wants to talk. You straighten and turn and when you are faced with tearful gaze you steel yourself for the worst. Really, you should already be prepared for it because with how rocky your relationship has been how could you expect anything else?
She takes a step towards you and takes a deep breath as though to steady herself.
"Regina" her voice is low and uncertain and yet gentle "are we" she gestures between you, and you can't help feeling like there are miles between you rather than inches and you make sure you are prepared to hear the word 'over' as it comes out of Emma's mouth "going to be okay?"
You look at her blankly, until what she has said registers. You don't know quite what to say. It's a strange feeling because it's not very often that Emma Swan-Mills can make you speechless but she's managed it. Her eyes are still tearful but her gaze is unwavering as she watches you through all her doubts and uncertainties.
Unable to look away from her, you feel yourself nodding. For a second it feels as though the distance between you has fallen away, which is of course ridiculous. It's still there, but it doesn't feel quite so much like a chasm any more.
She's still looking at you, tears spilling down her cheeks, a trembling smile on her face. She reaches out for you, and although she doesn't draw you into an embrace, and although she doesn't kiss you, she does clasp your hand in hers. The ache in your stomach is no longer there and as she clasps your hand in hers, you can feel the first bridge between the two of you being rebuilt stronger than ever before and it is wonderful.