A/N: Hello there! I'm really sorry for that really late update. I've worked on that disappointingly short chapter for months now, I just couldn't write a single word. Never really had such a writer's block before, but then I guess there's a first time for everything... Sadly. ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy that part and if you still want more, I'd be happy to explore the new ideas I now have for that story.

Enjoy! As always, comments are highly appreciated ;)


"Guys, come over here!" Emma called, making her way through the deck-chairs and various other garden furniture cluttering up the patio.

She came to put the tray she was holding onto the garden table, located in the shade of a large pine. The tray was overflowing with cookies fresh from the oven. The biscuits didn't leave much room for the three glasses and the pitcher of iced-tea pressed in between. Emma let out a relieved sigh, pleased to see that she had managed to come all the way from the kitchen without spilling anything.

"Have a break, that basketball isn't going anywhere!" When her call remained unanswered for the second time, she decided it was time to take drastic steps.

"I made cookies!" She called nonchalantly with a lopsided grin, making sure to detach every syllable. She pricked up her ears, on the lookout for any reaction.

The reaction wasn't long in coming. Soon she heard Henry cry out from behind the line of bushes splitting the garden in two.

"Truce!" he yelled, turning his back to Pete who took advantage of his momentary distraction to score.

"Okay, but I win!" he teased, winking at Henry who immediately rebelled.

"That's not fair, I said 'truce'! he pouted, his right hand held up high with crossed fingers, as if to prove his point.

"Fine, let's do it another way. The last one in won't get anything!

Pete barely had the time to finish his sentence before Henry ran off, headed for the house. Emma saw him emerge from between the trees at the speed of light and run in her direction. He broke the habit though, and didn't fly into her open arms. He bypassed her, grabbed the victory cookie and held it high before stuffing it in his mouth. After swallowing with much difficulty, he gave his mother and Pete –who had joined them by then–, a wide chocolate smile.

Emma, who had stood there, slightly numb after Henry had so carelessly ignored her, didn't react right away when Pete came to hug her from behind and put a light kiss on the top of her head. After a few seconds, she let her head fall back onto his shoulder with a content sigh, her gaze never leaving Henry.

However hard she tried to remind herself that he wasn't a little boy anymore and that it was perfectly normal that he would distance himself from her growing up, she couldn't help but wonder if his attitude hadn't something to do with Pete's presence.

From all of his eleven years of age, he still insisted that she tucked him in at night and read him a bedtime story, and the discreet look he gave her when he saw Pete hugging her didn't help silencing the insidious voice whispering in her ears. Something was definitely not right.

Going over the rare occasions when Henry had been so distant, she couldn't remember a single time when he had acted like that when they had been alone together. Or even in front of Regina for that matter. Had she been here, Henry probably would have begged for a group hug.

But then, if Regina had been there, Henry wouldn't have been playing basketball. Or eating so many cookies right before dinner, really. Things had changed a lot… and maybe not for the best.

She nodded at Pete to sit and they both joined Henry at the table. They avidly started on the improvised snack, but soon Emma's phone came to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that had settled as the cookies gradually disappeared.

It kept buzzing for several minutes. Pretty sure the call came from her father, she ignored it and kept on listening to Pete and Henry talking basketball.

Finally, the buzzing stopped. A moment later, one final vibration announced the reception of a text message. Emma was trying really hard not to pay any attention to it but she couldn't keep herself from shooting curious glances at her phone.

"You going to answer?" Pete snapped, annoyed to see that Emma was elsewhere.

Emma, surprised by the cold tone of his voice, picked up the phone, guilt showing on her face. She had made herself clear: she didn't want to hear about work for the duration of the weekend.

Her expression changed as soon as she pressed the unlock button, though. Five calls missed and a text. Well… She tried to suppress the smirk tugging at her lips, but in vain. It gave her away the minute Henry glanced at her. He soon understood who was the mysterious sender. When she looked up, their gazes met and she felt a blush creeping up her face. She quickly ducked her head and went back to her screen.

Pete didn't seem to notice the silent exchange and didn't interrupt his conversation with Henry, giving him some advice to improve his game. Henry wasn't really listening anymore. He was too busy being on the lookout for his Mama's reactions, secretly hoping she would answer.

Emma read the message for the third time.

"Hello, Emma. I need to talk to you. It's about Henry. Nothing too serious, but I'd like to discuss it with you. Would you meet me for a coffee at Granny's, Monday at about 3pm? I've just entered the meeting-room; you can text me back. Have a nice weekend. Regina."

Emma could have told Regina's style apart from anyone else's. An impeccable syntax as always, but most importantly a surprising formality when you knew whom she was talking to.

Not that Emma was the least surprised by Regina's tone; she knew the how and the why. That being said, she still felt a surge of painful sadness.

The memory of the day they had first met resurfaced and she smiled. It was a faint, melancholic smile. Regina had been as cold with her as with anybody else. It had taken her quite some time but she had eventually succeeded in making the young politician's walls crumble. Years of living together had proved at least one thing: the words 'distance' and 'coldness' –so often used to describe her– didn't fit at all.

But then, they didn't live together anymore, and there wasn't any family left… Well, not really. Emma felt her heart clench at the thought.

Too late. It was way too late to express that kind of regret. Who was she to bring all this back up? She had created the void that was now feeding off her heart. She had left, not Regina. She had made Regina open herself up only to rip her heart out. All she ever did was run away; she didn't know how to act differently. She ran by fear to be hurt, to hurt the other. After Henry's birth, she'd thought she had turned the corner, but old habits die hard.

The irony was that by leaving her, she had hurt Regina beyond repair. Time had managed to convince Emma that had she stayed, she would only have hurt her even more after that. It was the only thing that could still maintain the illusion of having made the right decision; that could still alleviate the guilt that had been eating her up all this time.

But Regina didn't know about all that. She'd never had the courage to explain why she had left. She'd been too afraid the brunette might find the words to make her stay.

She shook her head and started typing an answer without thinking.

She looked at Pete who still hadn't noticed her little game. Her heart was hammering in her chest; she felt guilty but she couldn't say why. Surely she had the right to communicate with her son's mother, right? There was nothing wrong with that.

She quickly pressed 'send' and put her phone back on the table as if it was burning her fingers.


On the other side of the town, in the middle of a council meeting, Regina jumped when she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket. She wriggled on her chair to get it out and she couldn't help herself from smiling when she saw that Emma had answered. She opened the message with a feverish, trembling hand.

"I guess that if it's about Henry… Monday, 3pm? Perfect. Good luck with that meeting, I know how boring they can get when you don't have anything to distract yourself. ;-) See you on Monday then, Madam Mayor."

The relaxed and almost charming tone of the message caught Regina off guard as much as her apparent detachment had saddened Emma. If the situation had been different between them, she would have wondered if she wasn't flirting with her.

Stop living on another planet, she mentally scolded herself when she felt her heart racing at the thought.

Her head started spinning. She didn't understand the blonde's attitude, and her own reaction even less.

She shouldn't be hoping for Emma to actually be flirting with her. She had been through way too much suffering to be willing to go down that path again. It wasn't the least bit reasonable.

She missed Emma of course. But it wasn't an acceptable argument. They had failed. She had failed. Failed at making Emma happy. Failed at keeping her family together. Their story was over. It had been over for a really long time.

And that was without taking into account the fact that Emma was in a relationship, and what's more, with a guy. She wouldn't be a home wrecker, even though she was clearly more legitimate that the stranger who had come into their lives overnight.

That's beside the point. It doesn't change anything. All the goodwill Regina managed to muster couldn't get the irrational, still-loving-Emma part of her brain to shut up. If the situation hadn't changed at all, if nothing had changed, then why would Emma suddenly act in such a familiar way with her? Why would she send such a message? Regina was growing more and more confused by the minute.

The conversation she'd had with Henry came to her mind despite herself. Was it possible that Emma really regretted their life together? That she was missing their home as much as she did? That Pete hadn't really replaced her in the blonde's heart?

It didn't make any sense. But then, since when was the heart ruled by reason or common sense?

"Madam Mayor, are you alright?" some man whose name she didn't remember called.

"Very well, I must say. As I was saying, today's agenda," she firmly replied, staring at her interlocutor, making it clear that he'd better keep quiet for good. Said man lowered his head and suddenly seemed to be very absorbed in the papers piling up in front of him. The rest of the meeting went smoothly, without any other interruption.


Emma softly closed the door to Henry's bedroom behind her and she tiptoed across the corridor to get back to her own room. Pete was already in bed, waiting for her to join him before turning the lights off. She made a detour by the bathroom to put on her favorite t-shirt. It was super old and way too large for her but she still loved it very much.

She came back into the room and got under the duvet. She wrapped herself around Pete but he didn't react.

She looked up and asked: "Is there something wrong?"

"It was Regina, wasn't it?"

Emma frowned, slightly confused.

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"In the afternoon. It was Regina who was trying to reach you."

"Yes, it was about Henry. She wants to meet up on Monday to talk about it."

Pete made a face in spite of himself and Emma couldn't help noticing. She lifted herself up on her elbow.

"Does it bother you? I can still cancel if you want…"

"No, of course not. Why would it bother me?" He answered with a tight-lipped smile. "I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I shouldn't have lost my temper.

She came closer and snuggled into him. He hugged her back this time.

"These things happen. Forget about it." She gave him a quick peck on the lips and rested her head in the crook of his neck.

"Good night, Emma."

"Good night, Pete."


At the 108, Mifflin Street, Regina rolled over for the umpteenth time, trying in vain to get to sleep. She stared blankly at the empty space beside her. She could practically see the loneliness creeping up on the bed and settling there for the night. Loneliness at least was a loyal companion.

Tonight however, she had brought a friend along and a single, equally lonely thought was now flooding Regina's mind.

Emma.