Chapter seven
It wasn't a noise that woke Emma, but a smell. It wasn't strong, or unpleasant – in fact, it was probably Emma's new favourite scent in the whole world. But it was still mostly unfamiliar to her, and it dragged her out of her restless sleep like a fishing hook.
She opened her eyes and found herself face to face with Regina and her aroma of clean sheets and expensive shampoo. She was fast asleep on the other side of the bed, breathing softly into the pillow. At some point during the night she had turned over onto her stomach, causing her hair to fall across her face, and the sight of her automatically made Emma smile. She wanted to look at Regina properly, but she resisted the urge to push her hair away from her face.
Emma had barely been asleep for three hours, but the memories from the previous night took a minute to come creeping back to her. She looked down at Regina's lips, which even in her sleep were deliciously pouted, and shivered. She could remember all too vividly what it had felt like to have them pressed up against her own, gently teasing them open, invading her mouth with a wickedly sharp tongue. But she could also remember what it had felt like to be pushed away again, and her cheeks burned at the thought. Her heart leapt, trying to tug her towards Regina and pull her away from her all at once.
That was the stupidest thing you have ever done.
She knew that Regina had been right to stop things: Emma hadn't been thinking straight, and if they had gone any further they probably wouldn't have been able to look one another in the eye that morning. Regina had been sensible and thoughtful on her behalf and Emma knew that she should be grateful for that, but looking across the bed at those pillowy lips, she wasn't sure that she had the capacity to.
The urge to kiss her all over again was bubbling up inside her and so Emma forced herself to sit upright, running her hands through her hair. God, can't you do anything right?
Her husband's face was sneering at her inside her own head, and she shuddered. She knew then, without any trace of doubt, that he was going to kill her when he found out. Because it wasn't a question of if, and it wasn't a question of what: he would find out, and he would end her. He wouldn't even think twice.
Emma groaned, glancing back across at where Regina was sleeping. Just the sight of her made her stomach twist in a way that half came from longing and half from humiliation, and she forced herself to climb out of bed. She headed for the door, not letting herself look back.
The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut somehow jolted Regina awake. She lifted her head off of the pillow, looking around for Emma, and found an expanse of empty bed beside her. She sighed, rolling over onto her back.
She could hear Emma getting in the shower two rooms away. She knew that this in and of itself didn't mean a lot – but Regina had been asleep, and Emma hadn't woken her up. She'd just walked out. That was what said so much.
Regina pressed her fingers to her lips. They were still tingling.
She hadn't lied to Emma when she'd told her that she wouldn't regret what had happened – already, just a few hours later, she missed it. She could still feel Emma's hands on her body and her teeth nipping against her lower lip, and the memory sent a tremor of longing through her limbs. But she couldn't focus on it for too long, as much as she wanted to, because a new thought was preoccupying her.
Emma was upset. Rightfully so, perhaps – but that's exactly what Regina had been trying to avoid. It was so typical of her; any time she tried to do the good thing – the right thing – she ended up hurting someone. She threw her arm across her face, groaning into the crook of her elbow.
But there was only so long she could stay there, and eventually she forced herself out from between the rumpled sheets, straightening them as best as she could. She left the room and walked in the opposite direction to Emma, closing her bedroom door behind her.
Regina had showered, put on her make up and gotten dressed before Emma had even resurfaced from the bathroom. On her way downstairs Regina stopped outside the door, almost raising her fist to knock. Then she stopped herself and headed down to the kitchen, knowing full well that Emma was waiting for her to go away before she came out from behind the door.
Even so, Regina was by herself in the kitchen for a long time before Emma finally decided to join her. Regina was leaning against the counter, a pot of coffee already brewed beside her, her eyes on the empty plates and glasses of juice that she'd set out on the bar. She drummed her fingers against the edge of the counter, wondering at exactly what point she should just give up and eat alone. Then she heard soft, slow footsteps on the stairs. She immediately turned her back, reaching for the coffee pot and pouring out two cups, making sure that she looked busy when the door finally opened.
Emma edged into the room, her heart lodged somewhere near her throat. The sight of Regina's turned back didn't make her feel any better. She swallowed, letting the door shut quietly behind her before she forced out, 'Morning.'
Regina turned around like she hadn't heard her come in. 'Oh. Good morning, Emma. Would you like some coffee?'
Emma nodded. 'Please.'
'I'm making eggs,' Regina said, gesturing for Emma to sit down. She reluctantly did so. 'I was just waiting to find out how you like them.'
'Um. Scrambled, please.'
'Not a problem,' Regina said, dropping Emma's milky coffee in front of her. She smiled briefly at her before she turned away and headed over to the stove.
Emma cleared her throat, looking down at the glass of orange juice that had been waiting for her when she came in. Regina was acting normal, at least. Maybe she wouldn't even want to talk about what had happened.
Emma took a deep breath and pulled her coffee closer, peeking up through her lashes to watch Regina's easy movements around the kitchen. Her glossy hair swung as she walked, just tickling her shoulders. She was wearing a tightly fitted white shirt tucked into black pants, and the sight of her delectably slim waist and straining top button made Emma's cheeks flush dark red. She looked back down again, staring into her coffee cup.
'Emma?'
She flinched, not raising her eyes.
'Yeah?'
'Could you make some toast?'
The word made her blood go instantly icy. Without responding, Emma got up from her seat and made her way over to the toaster. Regina glanced over her shoulder and saw how hunched her posture was as she tore into the loaf of bread, tossing four slices into the toaster like they were rotting in her hands.
Regina swallowed, turning back to the stove. She grabbed a spoon and lifted it up, ready to start cooking, but something stopped her. She turned back to face Emma.
'Are you okay?'
Emma started so abruptly that Regina heard her neck click. Not looking around, Emma tilted the toaster towards her and peered down into it at the bread that had only just started cooking.
'Yeah, I'm good,' she said, and to anyone's ears, she sounded normal. But Regina had already seen the hard line of her jaw and the faint blush in her cheeks. Usually Emma had a tough time meeting her gaze, but today she wouldn't even look up.
'Are you sure?' Regina asked softly, tapping the wooden spoon against her thigh. 'I want to talk about this. Do you think maybe—?'
'This toast will be ready in a minute,' Emma interrupted, not taking her eyes off of the bread. It wasn't even close to being done. 'Are the eggs cooked?'
Regina frowned. 'I haven't started them yet.'
'Okay,' Emma said. She swallowed, and the noise was impossibly loud in her ears. 'I'll just keep checking this.'
'Okay,' Regina said slowly. 'But can we please—?'
'Did you want white bread, by the way?' Emma cut over the top of her, still not looking around. 'I didn't ask.'
Regina narrowed her eyes. 'White is fine.'
Emma just nodded, still staring down at the toaster. The heat that was radiating from it made her face feel like it was on fire.
Regina gritted her teeth and finally turned back to the stove. She made their scrambled eggs in silence, grinding her teeth more and more aggressively every time she heard Emma press the button on the toaster to check that she wasn't burning their breakfast, then slowly push the lever back down again.
The toast still wasn't quite brown when Regina asked Emma to bring it across because their eggs were ready, but she took it out anyway. Emma handed Regina the two plates with her eyes pointed resolutely at the floor.
'You can sit down,' Regina said, and Emma turned away at once, shuffling over to the island. Regina glanced over her shoulder and watched her go: Emma was wearing a black sweater over dark blue jeans, and she had pulled the sleeves down over her hands like she was trying to make them disappear. Pressing her lips together, Regina turned back to the stove, scraping the scrambled eggs out of the pan and onto the insipid toast.
She carried the plates over to the bar and handed one to Emma, who murmured her thanks as she took it but still didn't look up. She started to eat as soon as Regina had sat down opposite her. Regina, meanwhile, rested her arms on the table and watched her, not picking up her own fork. She knew from the way that Emma's chewing slowed down that she could feel herself being observed, but she didn't acknowledge it. She carried on eating, her cheeks slowly turning pinker.
Eventually Regina was the one who had to cave.
'Emma,' she sighed.
'Aren't we going to see Henry?' Emma responded, still not looking up from her plate. 'You'd better hurry.'
'Emma, please look at me.'
It was her softest voice, and Emma couldn't refuse it. She swallowed her mouthful of food and finally lifted her eyes. Regina was watching her with an anxious frown between her eyebrows. Even now, she wanted to kiss it away.
'What?' she asked, dropping her fork back onto the plate. Regina's expression never wavered.
'We have to talk about this.'
'There's nothing to talk about,' Emma said, offering her a smile that was so forced it looked painful. 'Come on, Regina. Eat your breakfast – we need to get going.'
'I'm aware of that,' Regina said, not moving.
Emma blinked at her, and just like that she felt her heartbeat quickening, her throat going dry. It was a reflex – it didn't matter that Regina was the one sat across from her. Her body was just used to Killian acting like this.
She glanced towards the door and wondered if she would be able to run there faster than Regina could.
She took a deep, shaky breath. 'You should probably eat, then.'
'Emma.'
Regina still wasn't budging, and Emma could feel the walls starting to close in on her. She tried to swallow.
'What?' she croaked out.
And Regina went to push her once more, but stopped. Emma's face had turned the colour of expired milk.
Recoiling, Regina asked, 'Are you okay?'
Emma nodded far too quickly. Regina pushed her still-full plate to the side and leaned forwards, watching with a plummeting stomach as Emma flinched away from her.
'Emma,' she said softly, wanting to reach out. 'I'm… not going to shout at you. You're safe. I just want you to know that, last night… I don't…'
She had been planning her speech ever since she'd woken up that morning, but now that she was faced with Emma's pasty complexion and eyes that kept glancing towards the door, she realised that her words meant nothing. Emma was already mortified – but now she felt trapped too. She was watching Regina in the same way that caged animals at the zoo watch loud, shouting children as they run by.
Swallowing down all the pleading words that she wanted to say, Regina finally looked away from her. 'I guess you're right. We should get going.'
Emma blinked. 'You haven't eaten anything yet.'
'I'm not hungry,' Regina said, picking up her plate and tossing the contents into the trash. 'Do you still want to come with me to the hospital?'
'...of course I do,' Emma said quietly.
'Okay. Finish your breakfast. I'll be back in five minutes.'
She turned and left the room before Emma could respond.
When they met in the hall, Regina was slightly calmer. She was wearing a long black coat and towering black heels, and when she saw her, Emma felt something seize at her stomach muscles.
'Ready to go?' Regina asked, dangling her keys from one finger. Emma nodded, straightening her shoulders.
'I was thinking…' she said, pausing to clear her throat. 'I was thinking maybe I should drive? I could drop you off at work and then pick you up again this evening.'
When Regina just stared at her, she shrugged awkwardly.
'Just saves us having to take both of our cars.'
After a pause, Regina asked, 'Is your car safe?'
'Of course it's safe,' Emma snapped. 'It got me all the way here from Boston, didn't it?'
'I suppose that's true,' Regina said, raising her eyebrows. 'And you won't forget to come and get me?'
Emma shot her a venomous look. 'No, Regina. I won't forget.'
Regina's heart thudded when she heard the coldness in Emma's voice. She had come back downstairs ready to apologise for pushing Emma into talking to her – now she was glad that she hadn't managed to say it yet.
'Very well,' Regina said coolly, putting her keys back into her purse. 'I finish work at around 5:30.'
'Fine.'
'And we won't be going to visit Henry tonight because his therapist will be stopping by to see him.'
'The kid has a…?' Emma started to ask, and then stopped herself. That was probably a conversation for another time.
She pulled her keys from the pocket of her red jacket and forced herself to look Regina in the eye. 'Shall we go then?'
She could tell that Regina was gritting her teeth as she gestured towards the door, and Emma couldn't say that she blamed her: as Killian had told her a hundred times before, she was impossible to be around sometimes. She had just shot from panicked to belligerent in thirty seconds flat, and she couldn't blame Regina for probably wanting to smack her head into a wall.
Except she knew that below everything, no matter how much Emma pissed her off, Regina wouldn't do anything like that. Emma had gotten so used to expecting it from Killian that it had become a twisted kind of normality to her, but Regina wasn't that kind of person. Every single thing she had done up until that moment had been to try and make Emma's life easier again – and that included pushing her away the night before.
Emma swallowed, guilt gripping at her stomach like a pair of clawed hands. She opened her mouth to say something.
But then Regina turned back to her and snapped, 'Please do feel free to stand around in my hallway all day long, Miss Swan. It's not like I have somewhere better to be,' and Emma's apology dried up in her throat.
They rode to the hospital together in silence that was punctuated only by Regina's sniffs of disgust at the contents of Emma's car. Any time they turned a corner Regina would grab at the door handle like she was afraid that she was about to tumble onto the road, and eventually Emma found herself resisting the urge to push her out herself.
She had barely brought the bug to a halt in the hospital parking lot before Regina had clambered out, dusting off her coat with a curling upper lip.
'It's not that bad,' Emma muttered, climbing out after her. She didn't say a word to her as they walked through the hospital corridors together, making their way to Henry's room.
Regina entered the room first, then stopped walking so abruptly that Emma slammed into the back of her. She pushed herself away again immediately, her face burning at the sudden contact.
'Regina, what the hell?' she demanded. Regina just kept on staring across the room.
'Where is he?' she choked out. Emma looked over at where Henry's bed was, and realised that it was empty.
'Oh,' she said, looking around the room like he could be hiding in some corner. 'Maybe he's gone to the bathroom?'
'Miss Swan, he is bed-ridden,' Regina said, and she sounded so dangerously close to tears that Emma couldn't help it: she reached out a hand and gently touched Regina's arm.
'Regina, please. I'm sure he's—'
'Mom!'
The small voice came from behind them, and at once Emma snatched her hand back like Regina's skin had turned red hot. She could feel her face turning crimson.
Both women turned to find Henry in the hallway behind them, a nurse at his side. Regina could have wept: it was the first time she'd seen him out of that damned bed in over three weeks.
She strode out of the room and gathered him up in her arms, burying her face in his hair so he couldn't see the relief on her face.
'You're up,' she eventually forced out, pulling away so that she could take her son by the shoulders. She stared down into his grinning face and felt her body fill up with warmth. 'Oh, Henry. You look so much better.'
'I feel better,' he said. 'Doctor Whale said that I should try and go for a walk to see how far I could get, so Nurse Green took me.'
'Is that so?' Regina said, nodding her thanks at the nurse in question. Then she wrapped her arm around her son's shoulders and guided him back into his room. 'And how far did you get?'
'To the garden and back,' Henry said excitedly. 'I really feel much better. Hi Emma!'
'Hey, kid,' Emma replied as they walked past her. She watched as Regina helped him get back into bed, although, she had to be honest, it didn't look like he needed any assistance anymore. She could see a healthy flush in his cheeks, and his thick hair was no longer sticking to his forehead.
She edged towards the bed. 'You look… way better.'
Henry smiled at her. 'I know. It's weird, isn't it? It's like the second you came to town, I stopped being sick.'
Emma grinned back at him, but before she could say anything, she paused: Regina was bent over the bed, tidying the sheets, but out of the corner of her eye Emma could see that her expression had turned dark.
'Weird coincidence,' Emma said, trying to laugh it off. 'Must be those magical powers I haven't told you about.'
Somehow, this only seemed to make things worse. Henry's smiled broadened, but Regina's face turned sourer.
Emma cleared her throat and turned away from them, grabbing a nearby chair and dragging it over to the bedside. She sat down on the opposite side to Regina, who was still straightening out the sheets with her lips pressed together.
Her brown eyes flicked over to look towards Emma, but she was avoiding her gaze once more. Gritting her teeth, Regina finally sat down.
Emma knew that it was her job to make conversation then, but her brain had suddenly been drained of every single thing she could possibly say. She wasn't used to being around kids – certainly not her own – and it would take more than two 15-minute visits to make her feel more comfortable. She wanted to look up at Regina and silently plead for assistance – she knew that, even then, Regina would help her out in a heartbeat. But for some reason, even though she could feel Regina's dark eyes burning into her, she couldn't do it.
Just as she opened her mouth, ready to say… she didn't know what, she was saved by the other person in the room.
'Mom,' Henry piped up, looking over at Regina. 'You remember that Archie is coming to see me today, right?'
'Of course,' Regina said, squeezing his hand. 'I was just telling Miss Swan that before we arrived. Are you sure you don't want us to stop by after he's gone?'
She glanced across the bed as she spoke, but Emma was resolutely looking absolutely anywhere except back at her.
Henry shrugged. 'I guess you can, if you want. But tonight is activity night – I might actually be able to go.'
'I'm sure you will,' Regina smiled at him. 'We won't keep you from that, then. I'm sure Miss Swan and I can manage to not kill each other for one night.'
Henry laughed, but he noticed at once that his other mother wasn't joining in. Emma was looking down at her lap, her fingers tangled together, a faint but utterly forced smile on her face. Henry paused. He glanced over at Regina to check she didn't look like she was about to burst into tears too.
Regina looked back at him and all she could do was offer an apologetic smile.
'Madam Mayor?'
All three of them turned to face the door, where the voice had come from. Doctor Whale was stood there, a chart clutched under one arm. He nodded at Emma, but didn't address her.
'Good morning,' Regina said, not standing up. 'Is there a problem?'
'No problem,' he replied, stepping into the room. 'As I'm sure you can see, Henry's condition keeps on improving. I wondered if you might have a moment to discuss it?'
Regina paused, looking over at Emma once more. Something told her that she shouldn't be a part of that conversation.
'Of course,' Regina said, brushing off her pants. 'Give me five minutes and I'll come and find you.'
'Alright then,' he said, and he walked out the door.
Emma watched him go. When she turned back to the bed, Henry was looking at her.
'Are you going to stay here with me today?' he asked, making her blink.
'I… I don't know,' she said. She glanced across at Regina, ready to ask permission, but when she found two dark eyes watching her patiently, she immediately looked away again. 'I guess so? If you want me to.'
'Is that okay, Mom?' Henry asked Regina the question that Emma was too cowardly to ask herself.
'Of course,' Regina replied, looking pointedly at the woman on the other side of the bed, internally screaming at her to just damn well look at her. 'It'll be nice for you two to get to know each other properly.'
Emma smiled then, but only to herself. Her hands were clamped between her knees and the longer she stayed there in that chair, the more her body seemed to curl in on itself.
Regina watched her with a heaviness in her chest that was half pity and half pure irritation. Finally, she stood up.
'I hope your day is okay, Henry,' she said, bending over to kiss her son on his forehead. 'You'll call me if you need anything?'
'Sure,' Henry said, looking up at her.
'And you'll tell Dr Hopper to contact me tonight if he needs to?'
'Of course.'
'Great,' she said, reaching out to press a hand against his cheek. 'Good boy.'
She straightened her coat, then turned to look at Emma. She was only going to remind her to pick her up at 5:30, or to tell her that she should have a good day too – but Emma was still staring down at her hands, her shoulders tensed and her lips pressed firmly together. All at once, Regina snapped.
'Miss Swan,' she demanded, and out of shock more than anything else, Emma finally looked up.
'…yes?'
'A word in the hall, please,' Regina said, and without waiting to see if she was going to follow her, she left the room. She was waiting in the hallway by herself for a full minute before she heard the sound of Emma dragging her feet towards the door.
The moment that Emma had joined her and was looking at her half expectantly and half full of fear, Regina grabbed her by the elbow, tugging her as far away from their son's room as she could.
'Regina,' Emma snapped, trying to yank her arm away. 'What the hell?'
Regina didn't let go, but she stopped pulling her. She turned back to face her with her jaw clenched.
'Listen to me very clearly, Miss Swan,' she said in her lowest voice, and immediately Emma stopped struggling. 'You need to stop this. Right now.'
'Stop what?' Emma asked, her voice quivering.
'This petulance,' Regina said simply, her fingers digging into Emma's elbow. 'Look – last night didn't exactly go as planned for either of us. But I did the right thing by telling you to stop. You may be embarrassed and you may be hurt, but please stop acting like you're the only victim here. I'm just as uncomfortable as you are.'
Emma blinked. 'You're not the one who—'
'Yes, I'm aware of that,' Regina interrupted her, finally releasing her arm. She stood as close to her as possible, her voice quiet and urgent. Emma automatically looked down at her lips, and then she kicked herself for doing so. 'You put yourself out there and now you feel rejected. I know that must be tough. But if you opened your eyes for even half a second, you would notice that I'm not actually rejecting you. I'm still speaking to you because last night I wanted to carry on just as much as you did – and I still want to, even when you're acting like a spoiled brat whose favourite toy just got taken away.'
She watched as Emma recoiled from her words.
'You…' she stammered, taking a step back. Her forehead furrowed. 'What?'
There were far too many things for her to process and Regina didn't have enough patience left to watch her try and do it.
'Stop ignoring me,' she said flatly, hitching her purse up onto her shoulder. 'Stop acting like I betrayed you. I am just trying to be a good person by showing you some respect. Maybe you don't recognise it because you've gone without it for so long, but there's the truth: I care about you. I like you. And I just want to make sure you're okay. But I won't keep doing that if you won't even have the courtesy to acknowledge me when I'm in the same room as you. I deserve some kind of respect in return.'
When Emma simply stared at her, her mouth falling slightly open, she finally gave up.
'I have to go to work,' she sighed, glancing down at her watch. As she turned away, Emma tried to grab her arm.
'Wait,' she stammered. 'Regina. I'll drive you.'
'It's a 10 minute walk,' Regina said coolly, shrugging her off. Her heart was pounding. 'I'll see you at 5:30. Please don't forget.'
'I…' Emma started, but Regina was already walking away. 'I won't.'
She hoped that Regina would reply, or even just look back at her, but she kept walking with her hips swaying in a way that told Emma she knew she was still watching her. Her mouth had gone dry, and she was aware that she was getting in everybody's way by just standing gormlessly in the middle of the hallway, but she couldn't move. Not until Regina was gone.
When the mayor finally disappeared through the door at the end of the hall, Emma felt like she could finally breathe again – but she didn't enjoy it. It felt flat. She looked down at her stupid ungainly body and her stupid boots and her stupid shaking hands and she grimaced, hating herself probably more than even her husband had managed to in the past.
She finally understood then why he beat her. Because she ruined everything.
'Mom won't tell me where you got those bruises from,' Henry said, and Emma raised her eyebrows at him.
'That's not true,' she said. 'She told you I fell down.'
'Right,' Henry said pointedly. 'And I'm not stupid.'
Emma narrowed her eyes at him. She felt like she needed to tiptoe around him – partially because he was still sick, but mainly because she owed it to him to at least be nice to him – but it was starting to dawn on her that Henry wasn't exactly a timid child. Tiptoeing wouldn't get her anywhere.
'Did you ever consider that maybe it's none of your business?'
And at once, Henry grinned. 'That doesn't mean I can't ask.'
'Listen, kid,' Emma said, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. She was sat in the chair that Regina had vacated. 'Just listen to your mom on this. I fell down.'
'You're my mom too.'
'Not technically.'
'Yes technically.'
'Oh my god,' Emma groaned. 'I think I preferred you when you were dying from some mysterious illness.'
'I was never dying,' Henry laughed. 'And besides, I'm better now. Doctor Whale said I get to come home in a couple of days.'
'Yeah,' she replied. 'That's really great news. Are you excited?'
'Of course. It's kind of boring in here – the other kids all share rooms but because they weren't sure if I was contagious or not they made me stay by myself.'
'Yeah. I can imagine that must have sucked,' Emma said gently. 'At least your mom got to come and see you though.'
'Not always,' Henry said, reaching up to scratch his nose. 'When I was really sick, there were a few days when they wouldn't let her in either.'
'Jesus,' Emma blinked. 'That sounds pretty severe. You must be glad that's over.'
She paused, then added, 'Even if no one knows what the hell was wrong with you in the first place.'
Henry shrugged like this was only a minor detail. 'Whatever it was, it went away as soon as you showed up.'
'I think that's just a coincidence, kid.'
'I know you do,' Henry said, no trace of a joke in his voice. 'But it's true. I don't expect you to get it, though.'
Emma narrowed her eyes. 'Okay. I'll bite – get what? What did I do?'
But Henry just smiled at her.
'I'm not sure you're ready for that yet,' he said, and he glanced to his left, where his enormous storybook was sitting on the nightstand. 'I'll tell you some other time.'
'Might be too late by then,' Emma prompted. 'Your mom might have kicked me out before you can spill this grand secret.'
Henry laughed so loudly then that Emma jumped in her seat.
'My mom's not going to kick you out,' he said, shaking his head. 'Are you crazy?'
'Henry,' Emma sighed. 'Come on. It's her house, and we both know I'm just crashing there because she's lonely without you. I'm happy to keep her company, but I'm not going to intrude on both of your lives once you're better again. I'll be gone before you get out of here.'
She watched as his face crumpled. 'But why?'
'Because… it's not my home.'
'Where is yours?'
'Back in Boston,' she said, hesitating before she added, 'But I'm not sure I'm going back there.'
'Don't you have family there?'
'Not really, kid,' she sighed. She had told him that she was married the first time she'd come to the hospital with Regina, but he'd been so sick then that she wasn't sure he remembered that. 'My… husband is there. But I don't think I'm going to see him again.'
'How come?'
'It's kind of complicated. Maybe your mom wouldn't want me to tell you.'
Henry just looked at her, and they both knew he was going to get it out of her anyway. She rolled her eyes.
'We've just had some problems, and I… I think I need a clean break.'
'You don't love him?'
'Jesus, you're blunt,' Emma said. Then she sighed. 'I do love him.'
'But you don't want to stay with him?'
'It's… grown up stuff. And to be honest, I don't really know what I want to do. I'm a bit confused about it all.'
Henry pondered this for a moment, before his face brightened once more. 'You should definitely stay with us then. Until you've figured it out.'
Emma laughed, reaching out to cuff his chin. 'It's very sweet of you to offer up your house to me, kid, but I'm not sure Regina will be thrilled by that idea.'
'Stop acting like you think she doesn't like you,' Henry rolled his eyes. 'It's obvious she does.'
Emma raised one eyebrow. 'Are you sure about that?'
'I am,' Henry said plainly. 'She's only hostile because she likes arguing with people. But she's letting you stay, so that means something – if she didn't like you, she would have kicked you out way before now.'
'I've only been here a couple of days, kid.'
'Trust me,' Henry said seriously. 'If she didn't like you, you wouldn't have lasted one.'
Emma wanted to laugh, but she could see in his hazel eyes that he was being serious: Regina obviously didn't take to very many people and, as she'd repeatedly told Emma, she didn't do things because she felt like she had to. So no matter how much Emma felt like she must only be there because Regina felt sorry for her, it probably wasn't the case.
She thought back to the night before and groaned, her heart thumping against her ribs.
'Do you like staying with her?' Henry asked, making her jump.
'Sure,' she said as casually as she could manage. 'You have a great house and your mom is… well. She's nice, in her own way.'
Henry grinned. 'So you like her too.'
Emma hesitated, trying to work out whether he did mean just as friends or whether he was using the 'like like' intonation that 10 years olds loved so much.
'I… do,' she admitted, and when he didn't squeal out loud, she realised he must have meant the former. 'She's been really good to me. Too good, really. I haven't exactly deserved any of this.'
As she said the words, she realised just how true they were. She had been a complete asshole to Regina that morning, knowing the whole time that Regina didn't deserve it. Regina had been doing the right thing by stopping them kissing the night before, and Emma had acted like a teenager. She hadn't even thanked her. She'd just sulked and made Regina feel even guiltier than she already must have done.
Emma groaned to herself. God, you can be such a douchebag sometimes.
'You should ask her if you can stay longer,' Henry said. 'I know she'll say yes.'
Emma's heart thumped once more.
'Maybe,' she said.
Emma stayed with Henry for the rest of the day, eating his terrible hospital lunch with him and playing card games on the bed. Eventually it was three o'clock and a tall, red-haired man with glasses and an umbrella appeared in the doorway. Emma took it as her cue to leave.
As Doctor Hopper waited in the hall, Emma stood up and shrugged her jacket back on.
'Today's been fun, kid,' she said, tugging her long hair out from under the collar. 'I hope we can do it again some time.'
'Me too,' Henry said, gathering the cards back up. 'Maybe tomorrow?'
'I'll ask your mom,' she said. 'It depends on… some stuff.'
She wasn't sure how she was meant to leave him. Did they know each other well enough to hug yet? God, she was so fucking ill-versed when it came to kids – or maybe just with people in general.
But Henry made the decision for her. He reached out over the side of the bed and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, startling her. It took a moment before she registered that she was meant to hug him back.
She gave him a squeeze in return, putting one hand on the back of his head. He was surprisingly strong.
'I should get going,' she said, ruffling his hair. 'Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own tonight?'
'Sure,' he said, letting go of her. 'I'll see you tomorrow though, right?'
'Right,' Emma said. Even if she couldn't spend the whole day with him again because Regina had finally told her to go, she wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to him.
But just the thought of that happening made her feel sick. All day long the guilt of how she'd treated Regina that morning had been bubbling up inside her like she was heating up oil, but now it was almost unbearable. She needed to do something for Regina – something to show her that she was actually sorry for being such a dick all morning.
She paused.
'Hey, kid,' she said slowly. 'Weird question, but… what's your mom's favourite food?'
Henry just looked at her for a moment, and then his face split into a grin.
'If you asked her, she would say poached salmon,' he said. 'But it's lasagne.'
'You're sure?'
'Positive.'
Emma nodded, trying to work out how much time she had left before she had to go and pick Regina up.
'Should be doable,' she said, reaching out to tousle her son's hair once more. 'Thanks, kid. I owe you one.'
'No problem. See you tomorrow, Emma.'
'See you, Henry.'
She hurried out the door, nodding goodbye to Dr Hopper as she passed him, frantically trying to remember the only lasagne recipe that she'd ever made.
Even though Regina had given her the spare key to her house and told her to just keep it for now, Emma always felt like a burglar when she let herself in. Struggling under the weight of her grocery bags, Emma shouldered the door open and stepped into the cool hallway, toeing her boots off before she could track any dirt into the house.
She went into the kitchen and began to unpack the groceries, keeping one eye on the clock: it was nearly 4 o'clock. She was picking Regina up from work at 5:30, which meant that she needed to leave at 5:20. If she put the lasagne in the oven at 5, it would almost be ready by the time they got back home again.
She let these calculations tick around in her head as she began to lay the ingredients out. Get it in the oven at 5 so she can eat as soon as you get home – Emma repeated the words to herself over and over again so she wouldn't forget. She started to look through the many cupboards for a lasagne dish.
She wondered if Regina would mind her poking around like this. No matter how many times Regina had snapped at her for being so stupid, Emma couldn't shake the thought that her presence in that big, white house was completely and utterly unwanted.
Stop that, she told herself sharply. She shook her head. You've got to stop thinking shit like this. Because the same old voice was ringing in her ears, and it was going to take a lot more than three days away from it for her to learn how to ignore it.
She found a large glass dish at the back of the cabinet and pulled it out, placing it on the counter. She knew that Regina was going to appreciate this – she could somehow already picture the look of quiet surprise on her face – but it didn't stop her from feeling sick with nerves.
Cooking back at home was an ordeal that she suffered through every single day, waiting to see if the food was actually going to be eaten that evening or simply thrown into the trash – or, on really good days, against the kitchen wall. Here, she knew she was safe – she knew that Regina would enjoy it. But, God, her hands wouldn't stop shaking. It made chopping the onions damn near impossible.
But eventually the lasagne was finished and ready to go into the oven. Emma looked back up at the clock: it was 4:45. She felt a surge of pride when she realised that she was ahead of schedule.
She finished washing the cutting board that she'd been using and looked around at the clean kitchen. The oven was heating up and the utensils were drying in the rack. She paused.
'Salad,' she said out loud, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She nodded, confirming that she had made a good decision, then looked down at herself. There were flecks of tomato sauce on her black sweater and, although they were barely visible, she grimaced. Regina deserved better than that.
'Salad, then get changed,' she muttered. She glanced at the clock once more to check that she had enough time and felt another nervous flutter in her stomach.
She walked over to the fridge and pulled the door open. Her head was buried inside when the doorbell rang.
Emma stood upright and frowned. She had no idea what the etiquette was here – did she just go ahead and answer somebody else's door, or was she supposed to ignore it? What if it was a package, or Regina herself? She could have left work early.
Emma swallowed, closing the fridge. The doorbell rang again.
She walked into the hall, her socks sliding on the wood floor. She could see a dark figure through the door, pixelated by the blurred glass. She wiped her hands on the front of her jeans.
Emma mentally gathered her excuses, just in case the person waiting there asked what the hell she was doing in the mayor's house, and forced herself to walk forward. She could tell from the silhouette that it wasn't Regina.
She reached the door and pulled it open. Everything went very, very still.
Her throat felt like sandpaper as she said, 'Killian.'
Her husband looked back at her. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his face was expressionless.
'Hello, Emma.'
