Disclaimer: in previous chapters.
"Hey, girl, what's up? I'm feeling pretty popular right now, not that I'm complaining, but I normally don't get lunch and a phone call all in one day," Katherine tucked her phone between her shoulder and ear so she could start putting groceries away.
Stuttered breathing came across the line before a faltering voice spoke. "I- Kat she- I can't believe she actually did it, I just- I never thought she would!" Regina's rushed words took a few moments for the blonde to decipher but her tone is what worried her.
She closed the refrigerator and sat at the kitchen table, grabbing her phone properly and holding it closer to her ear so she could hear better. "Wait, Re, what are you talking about? You aren't making any sense."
"She did it!" Regina repeated, expelling a deep breath.
"Yes, I heard that part, but who did what? I need a bit more to go on here so I know how to react, hun. Is it your mother? Did she finally pick a fight with the wrong person?"
"No! Emma, Kat! She wrote me back, I just got the mail and there's a letter from her in it. Do you know what that means?" she asked, pitch raising, in excitement or anxiety Katherine wasn't sure.
"Um, that she knows where you live?" the blonde responded, clearly confused by what her friend was trying to tell her, yet wasn't telling her anything yet.
The brunette huffed a frustrated sigh, "No, I mean well, maybe but that's not my point. This means that she not only received my letter but she clearly read it. This means I may still have a chance not to completely mess everything up!"
A smile broke across the blonde's face. "Oh! Yes, that's awesome, Re! So what did she say?"
"I'm not sure, I haven't opened it yet."
Silence for 4 seconds. "Seriously? What the hell are you waiting for?!"
"Well, what if it's just a letter to say she's tired of the back and forth and wants nothing more to do with me?"
Katherine rolled her eyes but the small voice her friend had asked in made her pause before setting her straight, no pun intended. "It isn't. I know you two are blind to all things obvious but she still clearly feels something for you or she wouldn't have reacted so strongly to everything you did to her. If she was over it, this whole thing would have rolled right off her like water on a duck's back, so clearly there's still something there."
"Are you sure?"
"Regina, even if I'm wrong, you won't know until you read that letter. So pull on your big girl panties and open the damn thing instead of staring at it from across the room like it'll jump up and attack you."
"Wait, how'd you-"
"I know you, Re. Now just go open it and call me back when you're done, okay?" Katherine sighed and hung up before Regina even had a chance to respond. Sometimes that woman just needs some tough love.
Regina slowly lowered the phone from her ear, never taking her eyes off the stark white envelope lying on her black galaxy marble island, and leaned heavily against the sink. Mindlessly putting her phone down, the brunette clasped her hands around the lip of the counter, knuckles going white with pressure. She bit her lip, taking in a deep breath through her nose, released her lip and exhaled in a rush. It's just a letter, Regina. Stop being so pathetic and just open the damn thing. Like Katherine said, the worst that could happen is the same thing you're already dealing with now so you have nothing to lose. Okay, I can do this, let's do this.
Just as Regina had pushed herself off the counter, Henry walked in hungry.
"Hey Mom, when's dinner going to be ready? I'm getting hungry."
All of the confidence Regina had just worked up deflated, shoulders slumping even more than before. A frown pursed her lips, "I'm sorry, sweetheart, I haven't even taken anything out yet for dinner. Why don't you get a snack while I figure it out and I'll call you down when it's ready."
Henry shrugged, making his way to the pantry to grab a granola bar. "Okay. Who's the letter from?" he asked, eyeing the lone letter curiously. Normally his mom just left the mail on the entry way table unless it was a bill, in which case she'd take it into her study where her computer and check books were. The handwritten address meant it wasn't a bill so why was it in the kitchen?
Regina had pulled open the freezer, looking for something suitable but easy for dinner. She immediately spun around when Henry asked about the mail, answering maybe a little too quickly. "Hmm? Nothing, no one. Just a friend, I think. I haven't opened it yet so I'm not sure." She spun back around, internally cursing herself for acting so strangely around her son. He was a bright boy, there's no way he did not catch on to that slip.
Henry paused just inside the door, raising an eyebrow and crossing his little stick arms across his chest. "Okaaaay. I was just curious 'cause you usually keep the mail on the entry table or in your study unless it's a Christmas or birthday card, which goes on the mantel. So it seems weird that this one is on the counter instead." He took the few steps to the island and read the name. "Emma wrote you?"
The doctor rushed to snatch up the letter, holding it protectively against her chest and looking sternly at her son. "Henry! It's very rude and actually illegal to read someone else's mail."
Raising his hands in a surrendering gesture, granola bar still pinched between his thumb and palm, he was quick to apologize. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean make you mad or anything. Just curious."
Regina relaxed slightly but still kept the letter clutched to her side. "It's fine," she sighed, coming to sooth back some of the boy's unruly bangs from his eyes. "You're curiosity is going to get you into trouble one day, young man. You really need a haircut; we'll go sometime this week. Now go finish up your homework so I can work on dinner." With a squeeze to his shoulder, she gently pushed him towards his room while she went to put the letter somewhere away from prying eyes.
"Yeah, yeah."
After a quick dinner of barbeque chicken and broccoli, Regina and Henry sat in the living room and watched an episode of his favorite show The Big Bang Theory before she sent him to get ready for bed. It wasn't until she'd tucked him in and kissed him goodnight that the brunette was able to do what she'd been itching to do all evening. Pulling the slightly bent envelope from her purse, Regina walked over to pour a finger or two from the decanter of cider in her study and sat on the small couch she had set in front of an unlit fireplace. Slightly sweaty fingertips traced over the surprisingly good penmanship before turning the envelope over and breaking the seal, pulling out the letter from within. She took one more sip of the warm liquor before settling her bare feet under her legs and preparing to read.
Regina,
Or should I call you Dr. Mills? Either way, I was surprised to get a letter from you. Frankly, you don't seem to be the type to reach out in a personal way such as snail mail, let alone apologize often or easily. It took me a bit to read it but I do appreciate the apology, even if what you said last weekend was completely tactless and inappropriate. I guess I can understand your fears in regards to your son so I can't fault you for that. I wasn't going to write back, just take your apology at face value and call it even. It didn't seem worth all the time and heartache anymore. I've never had someone flip flop so frequently on me before and I can't say I'm enjoying it, but when my friends a few floors up got wind of your note, they wouldn't let up until I agreed to write back. Not to say I didn't want to deep down, but I gotta protect myself and since the only person hurting me recently is you, it didn't seem like a good idea at first. But a friend in the Guard used to say that writing things down made everything make more sense to him, so maybe this will turn out to be okay.
I remember Mr. Gold; that man gave me bad vibes, but it seems like I wasn't wrong to dislike him considering what he did. Can't say I like your mom much either from the sounds of it, though I'm sure I wouldn't be her favorite person either. Honestly, I don't so much care about the background check. Sure it's an invasion of privacy but I never got into anything really bad so I wasn't too worried about it. It was the questions you had about it, making me go more in depth into things that are better left forgotten, that was more the issue. It sounds like your dad's pretty cool, though. I think more people who grew up privileged should work with the lower socio-economic class to gain some empathy and compassion. The world would be a much better place with more people like your dad around. I've heard of the shelter, that it's the place street kids all want to end up if there's ever a vacant bed, but not much about the community center you mentioned. I guess since you shared some of your past with me it's expected that I share some of mine with you. It's not a fun story, though, and not one I tell often or like to talk about. So if I do this, please don't ask more questions, just take what I give you and be okay with it.
As you probably already know, I was abandoned at a fire station as a baby, only a few days old wrapped in a blanket with the name 'Emma' stitched on it, and immediately put in with social services. It didn't take long for a nice young couple that had been trying to get pregnant for a while but couldn't for one reason or another to take me in. I hardly remember them but the few memories I do have as a toddler point out that they were the best home I was ever in. They are where my last name comes from. When I was 3 a miracle happened and they no longer needed a stand-in kid anymore so back to the system I went. I bounced around a few homes; never staying anywhere for too long but thankfully staying in the same school district so the moving didn't affect my schoolwork much. I lived for school days, not because I fit in because I certainly didn't with my hand me down clothes and used school supplies, but because it was the only time I really saw a way to get out of my situation. If I did well in school, I could do something with my life, be somebody instead of some homeless orphaned nobody. Anyway, all the homes I was passed around to are why I had some many "siblings". Like you already know and I somewhat insinuated, the biological son of one of the families I was placed in started coming into my room at night when I was 11. When I said something to the parents several months later, they blamed me and so became the bullshit story that you read in the background report. Shit happens and it sucks but I learned not to depend on anyone but myself after that. After a few more homes and shelters, I took to the streets when I was 15, things happened, I graduated high school, and then enlisted in the United States Coast Guard. Now I'm here, rambling more about my past to a woman I don't know very well yet trust more than I should considering the mixed signals. Certainly a difference from your childhood, hmm?
So I guess you were not alone in your confusion around what's been happening with us, Regina. It took me almost a year before I told August what I just told you, though in more detail, and I trusted the man with my life on a daily basis, literally. As a homeless kid all my life, I built walls around myself and reinforced them after every projectile was launched at me. But it's almost like you just dug right underneath them, getting under my skin and reeking more havoc than any one person has in a little over a decade. And sometimes, I even liked the chaos a little. Sure the pain you've caused hasn't been great but there were times when I felt a warmth inside I've never felt with anyone before. The memory of when we danced a Salsa at the bar that one night still brings a small smile to my lips. I can still feel the satin feel of your skin under my fingers and it makes my heart race. But then my brain kicks in and over rides my heart and libido, reminding me that the drop dead gorgeous woman I'm thinking about is also the same woman who shot me down cold after our first kiss, making me feel like a fool for clearly misreading what was going on between us. It reminds me of the pathetic mess I let myself fall into in the following weeks after that night and I'm ashamed and scared that you can have that kind of damaging affect on me. After a childhood of being used by others for one reason or another, I told myself that once I was out I'd never let myself be that vulnerable ever again. Yet here I am, just as vulnerable as I was in grade school and with ever more baggage after combat. You were right to be wary to getting involved with me, Regina. It's easy to be my friend, but no one has been able to survive more with me, and I doubt you could either. Some people are not meant to have that kind of companionship, and after a lifetime of being alone I've come to accept that I'm one of those people and have embraced it. Even if you really did want to try, I'm not sure I could trust you in person like I did before again; speaking like this on paper is a lot easier than looking you in the eye and facing my fears. Who's to say you won't go running again and leave me high and dry? What would your parents say and how would you react if or when they reject that kind of relationship for their successful daughter? Would you even want to subject Henry to something like that?
You said the ball was in my court now and it was up to me what happens next. Honestly, Regina, I don't think it's a good idea. We are not compatible no matter what our sex drives may say about it. It's just not a good idea for everyone involved. But I am glad to have told you a bit about my past as well so you aren't always wondering what really happened, as clique as it is, I feel like a small weight has lifted off my chest. Also, I've accepted a position as an EMT with Newark Fire Department so you won't be seeing me around the gym much anymore. It pays better with regular-ish hours and will be good for me, plus the gym was always a stop guard just until I found a more solid job I could make into a career. So I guess this is goodbye. Thank you for the few good memories we have together. Take care of yourself, Regina, and take care of your son. He's lucky to have a mother like you.
Emma
Regina reread the last paragraph four times before she slowly lowered the letter to the couch cushion beside her and started at the mahogany coffee table blankly. It took almost a full minute before she snapped to attention, standing and striding quickly from her study. Shaking fingers fumbled to snatch up her cell phone from the kitchen counter and press the number 2 speed dial.
Halfway through the fifth ring, she didn't even wait for a greeting from the other end before speaking in an urgent tone and brooked no argument. "We have to do something."
AN: Hope y'all liked E's response to R and don't think she forgave her too easy or anything. Don't fret too much, my dears, SwanQueen is always endgame but I think R needs to work for it a bit, doncha think? ;) 'Til next time
Xox B