Hopefully, those of you who are reading are enjoying this. Sorry about the delay, work and school like to just suck up all your extra time. Have a good day, y'all.

- Lady Jasmine

Regina spends a while just speaking to her wife, Danielle, missing her deeply. She's speaking to her beloved about the newest kid at the office, she hopes he gets the hang of the fast-paced environment so she doesn't have to fire him. She hates firing people. She's so engrossed in catching her wife up on her life that she's unaware of a pair of eyes glued to the back of her head.

"Regina?" A voice calls out. Regina shoots straight up back on her feet, back straight, and pulls her coat closed so the person newly in attendance of the moment wouldn't see her wrinkled clothes. After a moment, she recognizes the newcomer's voice and she most definitely remembers that golden hair.

"Emma," Regina says in a strained greeting. Wow, she could never forget Emma, even after 18 years of not seeing each other and 16 years of no contact whatsoever. Emma was her first love, she used to be everything all wrapped into one perfect, beautiful bundle just for Regina. That is, until Emma left without a word of warning and a couple years later just stopped all contact. Emma still looked stunning, more mature. She aged well. Emma wore skin tight jeans paired with knee high boots, a fitted white button up shirt along with a large black coat, and a gray wool beanie.

Dread, and more surprisingly – but maybe not so much of a surprise? – joy churned over in a confusing mix in the pit of Regina's stomach. She had always had a pull towards Emma, but she was her first love, so of course she felt a pull. Doesn't everybody feel that towards their first loves? A part of her wanted to hug Emma and hold on for a while and ask questions upon questions about the last 18 years; the other part of Regina wasn't so friendly, it wanted to slap Emma in her cheek that's already red from the prickly cold and maybe politely suggest she go fuck herself.

"I – um, who are you visiting," she stumbles over her own tongue, obviously wanting to say something completely different. Still awkward as ever, Regina thinks with an eye roll of annoyance. Where does she get the nerve? Disappearing out of the blue, then eighteen years later wants to know something so personal?

"That's a tad personal, don't you think? Now if you don't need anything," Regina grinds out through clenched teeth. She turns back around stepping back to her daughter's grave, hoping Emma takes the hint for once in her life and leaves her the hell alone. But, of course, Emma being Emma, she doesn't.

"I'm here visiting David," Emma announces bluntly. What was this personal exchange for personal exchange? Regina was about to retort with nasty words and attitude, but quickly decided against it. She remembered Emma's father, David vividly. Emma definitely was his kid, looks wise at least. Right about now, Regina was thinking that David was definitely a far better person than Emma was. He had been a great father to Emma, which was particularly rare in her own life; she remembers confiding in him, laughing with him, crying with him. David had been more of a parent to Regina than her own ever had been. It had been just short of a tragedy when he and Emma's mother, Ingrid got a divorce and David moved here to Chicago, away from their hometown – what are the odds of everyone ending up in this damn city? She remembers Emma taking it rather hard. That point in time was Emma's rebellious stage; it had been a long stage, for sure.

"I was a heart attack," Emma continues when she sees Regina's head turned ever so slightly to the side, clearly listening to her. Emma's hoping to get Regina to, at the very least, face her. She needs to tell Regina why she left. She can't leave it like this, not again. "I talked to him just hours before it happened and then he was just… gone. I know you called one another before you just stopped answering the phone. I know he was important to you, just like you were important to him. He loved you. He gave me absolute hell when I left."

"Good," was the simple response that escaped Regina's lips before she could stop it. "You deserved it." Regina stares straight ahead at her daughter's headstone with her fists clenched in front of her. She needed to get out of here. With everything she has left in her, Regina begins to walk seemingly confidently away towards the entrance trying not to limp with the prosthetic. She isn't able to get very far though.

"You had a daughter?" Emma whispers in empathetic pain as she stares at the grave that Regina had been standing in front of. She can't even begin to imagine the loss of a child; if she lost her own son, she's positive she wouldn't be able to go on. Regina had always been strong, but this was a completely different level of strength. All Emma wants to do now is hug Regina until her pain absorbs into her own skin.

Against Regina's better judgement, she spins on her heels and just about leaps right in front of Emma in anger, ignoring the pain in her leg. They were so close to each other that their noses were touching, but this wasn't a moment of deeply imbedded sensual anger, no, this was just pure fury on Regina's part. Her eyes flashed dangerously and her lips turned into a disgusted snarl meant only for the blonde in front of her. Emma only wonders why Regina's face contorts in masked pain.

"You lost the right to know anything about me. Don't fucking dare speak about my daughter, you don't deserve to. She was too good for you. You left, you abandoned me, you don't know one thing about me anymore," Regina says this in such an angry, dominating low voice. Emma gulps audibly and is momentarily at a loss of what to do. She needs Regina to hear her side, to just give her a chance.

"You're right. You're right," Emma knows this is her last chance at getting through to the gorgeous brunette. "I left you behind that day. I have a reason though. I have an explanation. I don't deserve it, but I want to tell you my story. Please, Reggi, hear me out? There's a little café just down the street, let me buy you a cup of coffee," Emma pleads with her, hoping Regina's old nickname will soften her up a bit. It had before, but there was no telling now. Emma knew Regina deserved more than she could ever give, in the past and now, but she at least had to tell her it wasn't her fault. It wasn't because she didn't love her. It had all been for her. Emma needed her to know.

Emma thanked every god she could think of when she saw Regina sigh and run her hand through her hair in thought. She knew what was coming next, "Alright, Emma. You have one hour, and this reason of yours better be the best goddamn reason in existence. If you waste my time, you'll never regret anything more than this."