Author's Note:
Fair warning, I've been depressed for weeks and haven't written a single word as I'm just… not finding enjoyment in anything right now. This is also the last chapter I have finished, so I can't guarantee when the next one will be posted. I'm sorry :/ Hopefully my brain will get over this crap sooner rather than later.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Glass

"Are you wearing jeans?"

Regina looked up from multitasking, her demeanor utterly distracted as she took in the sound of Emma's declaration of surprise. Barely even comprehending what the blonde was saying to her however, Regina held up her finger and spoke into the phone, "Another two weeks—yes, of course I'm sure my card is on file, could you just…"

An aggravated sigh left her lips at the desk clerk's sputtering excuses about verification, and Regina slammed down the knife she was holding, abandoning her task of trying to slice the tomatoes. Grabbing the phone that was being cradled between her shoulder and her ear, she snapped into it, "The details of your incompetence do not interest me; if you cannot manage to do your job, then put me on with your manager—yes, of course I'll hold!"

Emma's eyes widened at Regina's tone, and in noticing that she was in a bad mood and that was probably not something she wanted to be around, tried to back out of the kitchen. But as Regina was waiting for the manager to be put on she spun back around and ordered, "Don't go anywhere. I need you to shred the lettuce and make sure the meat doesn't burn while I deal with these idiots; Henry will be back from Dr. Hopper's soon and I want dinner to be ready in time. Now do you think you could actually manage that, or should I just continue to do everything?"

While the question was posed as though she were giving her options, Emma seemed to pick up on the fact that there really was only one right answer, and held her hands up in light surrender. "Shred the lettuce, don't let the meat burn; got it."

"Thank you." While Regina was genuinely grateful that Emma didn't feel the need to further her aggravation, her tone still sounded biting over having to deal with imbeciles that didn't know how to do their job. How difficult was it, really, to just allow her to pay for another two weeks of her motel room over the phone? Quite a lot of her possessions were still there, and she needed to make sure that nothing would happen to them while she was in Storybrooke.

Thankfully though, once the manager was put on the phone, everything was settled within a few minutes. After hanging up her cell, Regina exhaled a relieved breath, just glad that she had one less thing to be concerned with.

And then her eyes landed on Emma.

"What on earth are you doing?!" Regina exclaimed, looking horrified as Emma used her hands to pick apart the head of lettuce, setting the torn greens in a bowl. Emma blinked at her, clearly not understanding what it was that she was doing wrong.

"Uh… shredding the lettuce?"

"With your…?" Regina began in disbelief, before grabbing the head of lettuce from Emma and using her hip to bump her out of the way with an exasperated sigh. "You use a knife to shred the lettuce, Miss Swan, not your hands," Regina told her, picking up the knife by the cutting board for a little show and tell before she began demonstrating on the part that was still salvageable. "Good Lord, did you even wash them before you began? Honestly…"

"Sorry, Mom," Emma retorted, rolling her eyes. "And yes, I washed my hands; I'm not an animal. Or a kid, for that matter."

Regina just exhaled an exasperated breath and shook her head. "Please just keep an eye on the meat, and if you could get the cheese from the fridge that would be helpful. Thank you."

"Fine."

The response was just as exasperated, but for once the tension between them wasn't born from resentment or guilt. It was strange, the domestic sense of normalcy behind this kind of interaction, and despite Regina's irritation over Emma's inability to just correctly chop vegetables, the whole thing was kind of… comforting, in a way.

After Emma grabbed the bag of shredded cheese off the bottom shelf and tossed it on the counter, she tried to casually mention, despite how obnoxiously intriguing the frivolous topic seemed to her, "So, the jeans…"

Regina wrinkled her nose in an attempt to try and offset her embarrassment. She had been hoping that topic wasn't going to be brought up again, but of course Emma wasn't going to let it go. It wasn't like her to be wearing anything other than dress pants and pencil skirts after all. But Regina kept her tone even as she moved on from the lettuce to finish her task with the tomatoes and asked, "What about them?"

"You're wearing them."

"Well I assume that's what they were designed for, dear."

"Don't give me that. I've known you for how long now?" Emma countered as she stirred the meat in the fryer, side-glancing her. "Not once have I seen you wear jeans. I didn't even think you owned a pair."

"Yes, well," Regina responded tersely, the amused smirk that now graced Emma's face making her feel irrationally defensive over her wardrobe. "I brought most of my preferred outfits with me when I left town the first time; I don't have much else here." Her eyebrow rising in challenge, Regina asked, "Would you have preferred I walked around pants-less instead?"

Silence.

Regina smirked in amusement as she turned, being confronted by the most conflicted look on the blonde's face. "Emma?" the brunette prodded, now curious to hear her response. She was toying with her, and perhaps given their rocky history she probably shouldn't be, but Regina couldn't help it. It made things feel… lighter. Better.

"I… don't know how to answer that," Emma managed finally, looking like the entire question was a trap and she had no idea how to proceed.

"It's a simple yes or no question, dear."

She was pushing, just trying to see if Emma would rise to the bait and play with her in the way that she used to. Perhaps it was foolish, because in the end, a game of teasing meant nothing when placed up against the problems they still had in their relationship, but as things seemed to have gotten a little better between them as of late, Regina wished to bask in that before it all inevitably came crashing down; which, in all honesty, would probably be on Thursday afternoon during their session.

It was something Regina both looked forward to and dreaded at the same time, as despite it surely being beneficial for the both of them, it would no doubt also bring up terrible topics that they had purposely strayed from. So yes, Regina would prefer to bask in the momentary reprieve from the drama in their relationship, should Emma let her.

And then the blonde smirked, allowing herself to succumb to the little game instead of obsessively trying to figure out if it was 'smart' or not. And perhaps, at the end of the day, that was better for them; to just live in the moment, instead of their depressing past and murky future.

"Not really," Emma answered, turning around and leaning up against the counter to allow herself a better visual of the other woman, "because I really like how your ass looks in those jeans."

"Oh?" Regina inquired casually, trying not to allow herself to smile as she turned back to the tomatoes. "Then why was that such a difficult question for you?"

"Because," Emma began purposely, and suddenly there were hands on Regina's waist and her ass was being pressed against the blonde's crotch and oh, damn; apparently if Emma was going to play, she wasn't going to be bested as she finished with, "If you weren't wearing them at all, then it'd give me easier access…"

The words were breathy against Regina's ear, and the brunette tried to suppress the shudder they elicited. Emma still knew she had won though, as the victorious smirk Regina could see out of her peripheral clearly indicated, and she feigned disappointment with, "What, no comeback? Come on, Regina, you used to be good at this game."

"Our son will be home soon."

"So?"

"So," Regina stressed, turning around in the other woman's arms so she could face her, one of her fingers curling in Emma's belt loop to pull her closer as an eyebrow was raised, "I know you, dear; and should I have won, the dinner would be burned and our poor child scarred. So you may have this victory… for now."

It was just supposed to be light, playful, but her words brought a conflicted look on Emma's face. "So if you won, that… was what you wanted?" she asked, as though she didn't know what to think about that. And it wasn't like they hadn't had sex since they broke up, because obviously, but sex for the sake of being with each other was different than sex for the sake of tearing each other apart.

"No, I…" Regina tried, suddenly feeling very awkward and foolish for even having started this in the first place. Gently pushing Emma backwards with the flat of her hand, Regina shook her head and turned back around to tend to the vegetables. "I was just… trying to have some fun with you. Perhaps I shouldn't have; I'm sorry."

"No, Regina, it's…" Emma tried, placing her hand on the small of the brunette's back imploringly. But then it seemed she lost her nerve, or had second thoughts, for it was withdrawn with a sigh as she stepped away. "Nevermind."

Regina trapped her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, her gaze focused on a task that really needed no more attention – as the vegetables were sliced by that time, and now all she was doing was making them far thinner than they needed to be – before awkwardly clearing her throat and requesting, "Please check on the meat. It should be done by now."

"Right," Emma said softly, the word coming out more like a sigh as she allowed the uncomfortable tension between them to linger. "Okay…" Running her fingers through her hair, Emma stepped over to the stove and began to tend to the task that Regina had delegated to her.

The two women fell silent then, the only sounds in the kitchen being the ones they made in preparation for dinner. As Emma took the meat off the burner and Regina began pouring the shredded cheese into a servable bowl, the blonde took that moment to speak.

"We should be honest with each other, right…?"

Regina turned towards her sharply, the hesitant tone of Emma's voice sparking worry. She sounded like she feared getting into trouble. "What's happened? What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Emma assured her quickly, before blinking and reassessing how much truth that statement actually held. "Well, something; but nothing, I swear—"

"Miss Swan."

Emma couldn't meet her gaze, and it caused paranoia to squeeze tight in Regina's gut. Suddenly thoughts of Emma drinking again, or of her suddenly deciding maybe it was worth giving Neal a second chance, or perhaps that she had decided not to move with Henry at all began formulating in Regina's mind, despite the fact that most of those were completely irrational. Still, Emma's tone and demeanor left a lot to be desired, because she looked really guilty, and that could only mean something bad.

"Relax, it's not… I mean, I just—I figured, in the interest of honesty and openness and all that other crap, that maybe I should tell you that I went to a bar today, but—"

Anger.

Fear.

Disappointment.

Sadness.

All of those conflicting emotions suddenly hit Regina like a freight train, and as she demanded, "What?!" they all poured outwards so abruptly that the overhead light shattered, causing both women to cry out in alarm as glass rained down on them.

Emma ducked and covered her face with her hands as Regina backed up as far as she could go against the counter, but her feelings were still so uncontrollable that she pleaded, "Emma!" as she reached for her, needing the control the other woman allotted her magic before something else happened, because God, she could still feel its storm brewing inside of her, begging to be released again.

Emma grabbed immediately grabbed for her hand, and Regina hissed as some glass that had embedded in her skin got pushed deeper. "Shit," Emma exclaimed, sounding so terribly apologetic and guilty as she moved to grasp the brunette's wrist instead. "Are you alright? I'm sorry, I forgot—"

But the glass wasn't important then, because now that Regina had the ability to control her magic, she furiously demanded without consequence, "What the hell do you mean, you went to a bar?!"

"Jesus, no, it's not what you—Regina, I didn't drink, I swear to God!"

"Then why the hell would you go there in the first place?" Regina demanded, still angry and frightened that perhaps Emma was lying to her. She didn't look like she was, but the paranoia that was still firmly planted in the back of her mind wouldn't let it go. It just didn't make sense. Why on earth—?

"I was just—fuck," Emma swore, realizing that as far as outcomes went, this was by far at the bottom of her list of preferred ones. "I was just… upset, and I don't know—testing myself, I guess. But it's fine, okay? I didn't drink, I swear."

"On Henry's life."

"…What?"

Regina could still feel the magic in her craving to be released, the effects of the defectively broken curse feeding off her emotions as her chest heaved in the struggle to not expel them of her own free will. "Look me in the eyes, Emma, and swear to me on our son's life that you did not drink at all today."

"Regina…" Emma pleaded, her gaze connecting with the brunette's. Her eyes screamed of honesty, of upset and guilt for the reaction she had caused. "I swear on Henry's life that I didn't, okay? Please just… just calm down."

Regina exhaled a breath she didn't know she had been holding, relieved that Emma hadn't foolishly undone everything she had worked towards. Still, she was angry at the woman for even putting herself in that situation, and she furiously hit Emma's shoulder with her free hand. "You idiot!"

"Christ, ow—!"

"As if you don't have enough problems, now you're purposely seeking them out?" Regina seethed, furious that Emma would do something like that to herself. It was far too early in her sobriety to challenge herself in such a way, and Regina was certain all it did was bring her a painful struggle. "Do you just enjoy being miserable, because I'm honestly beginning to—"

"No! It's—" Emma tried, but her words just fell away into a frustrated sigh as she slumped against the counter, the grip she had on Regina's wrist to control her causing the other woman to step into her space and trap her against it. Emma shook her head as she pursed her lips, before just shrugging helplessly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even mentioned it…"

"No," Regina objected, because she didn't want Emma to think that she couldn't be honest with her. Worrying her bottom lip for a moment, she exhaled a soft sigh. "I'm… I am glad you told me, I'm just having a hard time understanding why you would do something like that. You're playing with fire, Emma…"

"I… I know, I just—" But she stopped herself, her gaze falling to the wrist she was holding, then setting her sights a little lower as she took in the damage her admission had caused. "Shit, Regina, you're bleeding…"

Regina looked down at her hand, seeing red seep out from around the small piece of glass that was embedded in her skin. Her eyes then flickered to the rest of the kitchen, the shards being scattered along the floor and partly on the countertop, and upset tinged Regina's tone as she noted, "The dinner's ruined now," because it was more than likely that some of it got into the food as well. She sighed heavily, and Emma's brow creased in guilt.

"I'm sorry. I'll—I don't know, order us a pizza or something, okay? Just lemme… we need to take care of your hand."

Regina nodded in agreement, and Emma led her into the bathroom before coaxing her to sit on the edge of the tub. After rummaging through the medicine cabinet for a moment, the blonde came back to sit opposite of her on the toilet seat. "Gimme your hand."

Regina held it out to her, even though… "You don't have to do this; I can tend to it myself."

"You're right handed and the glass is in your right hand, Regina," Emma told her, like she was being stupid. "You'd have a bitch of a time trying to work the tweezers with your left, so just… relax okay? I can do it. And besides," she continued, before her voice dropped to a lower tone as the blonde all but mumbled in shame, "kinda my fault anyway, right? So…"

She trailed off, and Regina let her, because in the end, although Emma wasn't entirely to blame for the light exploding, she was still the one who was foolish enough to walk into that bar in the first place and begin this whole ordeal. Bringing Regina's hand closer to her body, Emma scrutinized the glass under the light first before attempting to dislodge it.

And then quicker and more accurate than Regina would have guessed she would be, Emma suddenly clamped the tweezers on it and pulled, the sensation of it leaving her body causing Regina to hiss in pain. "Sorry," Emma apologized, grabbing the peroxide before coaxing Regina to get up and hold her hand over the sink. "Quicker is better though, otherwise it would have hurt worse."

"No, that's—it's fine, I'm aware of that," Regina told her, just finding herself surprised by Emma's caretaking abilities. But it was as Emma poured the liquid over her cuts that Regina realized she probably had to have been, as growing up in the system with foster parents who hardly noticed her, let alone took care of her, left her with no other options but to care for herself.

That thought caused a small frown to crease the edges of her lips as she watched Emma dab her skin with a gauze pad, and she softly questioned, "Emma?"

The blonde stilled her hand and looked up at her, the movement causing her face to become only mere inches from the Regina's. She watched Emma suck in a small breath at the proximity, and Regina's brow creased as she searched her eyes for a moment. "Please just… promise me that you won't put yourself in that kind of position again. You have no idea how much it scares me."

"Regina…"

"No," she interrupted firmly, not about to let Emma try to downplay it or brush it off or whatever she was attempting to do. "No. I had to watch you detox. I had to take care of you when you were feverish and vomiting and—and I will not do it again."

Regina could feel her heart squeezing painfully in her chest at just the memory of it, and her tone was regrettable but firm as she continued, "Emma, I… I can't do that again, do you understand me? That frightened me beyond anything else in my entire life, and should you choose to go down that path again, I will not follow behind you to pick up the pieces."

Upset washed across Emma's face at those words, but Regina wasn't going to live her life solely to become the caretaker of a drunk. She deserved better than that. "So please," she implored, sounding near-begging because God, Regina didn't want things to turn out that way. "Do not put yourself in that position again. You may have been strong enough to do it this time, but the next time isn't guaranteed; and I'm afraid that once you start again, even… even if it's just one, it will…"

"I won't," Emma promised her, fingertips ghosting across Regina's palm before weaving their fingers together. "Regina, I won't; I promise."

Her voice sounded tight with emotion, like she was struggling to be okay with the fact that should she mess up, Regina wouldn't be there for her. And perhaps in the end it only put more pressure on her, but the pressure to stay sober was the kind Regina wanted Emma to have, especially because, in all honesty, as much as she would like to stick by her words, Regina doubted that if the time came she would truly be able to walk away; she loved her too much, and she desperately wished that would become her salvation, and not her undoing.

Regina looked at her, and the vulnerably that shown in Emma's eyes tightened her heart within her chest. Grasping the back of her neck, Regina pulled the woman towards her, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love you," she breathed against her skin. "And I really am so very proud of you."

Because she was. What Emma was doing, finally trying, finally wanting to recover from the addiction that had overtaken her life, was so very difficult. Regina wanted her to have positive reinforcement, in the hope that Emma would continue on this path; for if she didn't, Regina was certain that it would be so much more difficult trying to stay sober the second time around.

Emma's eyes fluttered closed at the light touch of the Queen's lips against her skin, and the unfinished question of, "Moment?" tumbled from her mouth, the singular word still easy to understand by the woman against her.

This, right now; this moment… should we stay in it?

Regina felt her heart pound in her ribcage, for she knew what Emma would, do should she allow her to. And right then, she craved a closeness, needed it after the scare she had had, and so Regina nodded. "If you would like, dear."

And then Emma was kissing her, just a soft brush of lips that held no urgency or desperation; just the gratitude for Regina's support being breathed into her like a prayer that it would forever stay that way. Fingers grasping the brunette's hips, an encouraging tongue gently requested entrance, and Regina allowed the invasion, the soft kiss suddenly becoming firm, much more needy as they were both reminded that moments… they never lasted.

And perhaps that was why, in the end, they fell into each other in such a way. Ever since the curse broke, nothing was guaranteed to them; cracking the door was like opening a floodgate, and although Regina tried to blame it on Emma and her impulsiveness, she knew she herself was just as much to blame.

Her back was pressed against the edge of the sink then, and Regina's breath hitched in her throat as she held onto her tighter, parting her lips a little wider to kiss Emma with more passion than they truly had time for. But as the blonde's breathing picked up and Regina's fingers tangled in sun-kissed hair, the nails that raked against the skin beneath her shirt in a display of want were suddenly interrupted by the sound of their son's voice.

"Moms…?"

Emma withdrew like she had been burned, her eyes a little darker than they were before when they connected with Regina's. "Go," the brunette softly encouraged, not wishing for their son to find them held up in the bathroom a little flushed and short of breath. "I'll finish bandaging my hand."

Emma hesitated for a moment, just looking at her like she was unsure how to feel about anything anymore, until she finally nodded her compliance and left the bathroom. Trapping her bottom lip between her teeth, Regina turned back towards the sink to tend to her wound, finding herself wishing that things weren't so complicated; because while they were better, surely, they really were far from simple in any sense of the word.

When Regina exited the bathroom she heard far too many voices than there should be in her kitchen, and one of them specifically set her teeth on edge as she grew nearer to the conversation. "—dangerous, Emma. If Regina can't control her temper…"

"This wasn't her fault, okay? It was mine," Emma defended, sounding exasperated as the tinkling of glass followed her words. "I said something I knew would upset her and had forgotten about how magic was in this house. If I touch her though, she's fine; she can control it. So just… leave it, alright? It's not gonna happen again."

Snow said something after that, but it was lost to Regina as her attention focused on something else.

"Henry?" Regina asked gently, seeing her son standing in the foyer with an annoyed look on his face as his birth mother and grandmother argued in the kitchen.

"All they do is fight about you," he told her, folding his arms across his chest. Regina's lips creased into a sympathetic frown as she crouched down in front of him, placing her hands on his arms.

"It's only because neither of them can talk about what they need to," she assured him, even though a part of her knew that wasn't entirely true. Even if Snow and Emma worked out their issues, Regina would still be hated by her soul mate's parents. Brushing the hair back from her son's eyes, she asked him, "How was therapy?"

"Archie says I should talk to Emma about my Dad," he revealed, shifting a little in position, as if the conversation worried him. It was understandable though, as Regina was sure while a part of Henry ached to know his father, the other part was wary because he had apparently done something bad to Emma.

"You should," Regina agreed, giving him a small, encouraging smile as the sounds of an argument continued to float from her kitchen. It was beginning to grate on her nerves, but Regina took a deep breath and told her son, "And I… I actually think I should speak with your Grandmother for a moment, so why don't you go in the living room and I'll send Emma in with a few of the take out menus, and you can decide together what you'd like to order for dinner."

"Kay," Henry relented, the word coming out more like a murmur than anything else as he looked at the ground.

"And darling?" Regina prodded, gently tilting his chin up with a knuckle so he could meet her gaze. "Perhaps you should try to speak with her, if you're feeling up to it. I can give you both some space."

Henry didn't promise her that he would, but he did acknowledge that he had the option by nodding in response. Regina gave him a gentle smile before telling him, "Go on then," before standing herself, heading towards the kitchen as her son went in the opposite direction.

"—isn't a safe environment for a child. I know you think you can control her magic, honey, but—"

"I would very much appreciate it, Snow, if while in my home, you wouldn't try to talk behind my back like some sort of immature, prepubescent child," Regina informed her, coming into view of the two women who were still cleaning up the shattered glass. "We're all adults here, after all; should you have something to say to me, then you should say it to me."

"Regina, it's fine; don't get into it—" Emma tried, but was ultimately unsuccessful as Regina merely held out her hand for the broom that she was holding.

"Henry's waiting for you in the living room," she told her. "Bring some of the take out menus and decided what you'd like for dinner; your mother and I will clean the rest of this up"

Emma sighed heavily, knowing this wasn't going to be pleasant if Regina was actively seeking out Snow to talk to, and the said woman raised a suspicious eyebrow at being allotted the privilege of staying. "Regina…" Emma tried, the word mixing with a heavy sigh.

"Go," Regina gently encouraged, taking the broom from the blonde's hands. "You need this time with him anyway; make the most of it."

Emma pursed her lips in a tight line, looking apprehensive about leaving them alone, but at the same time wishing for the time to speak with Henry. Eventually though, she just exhaled a relenting breath and moved towards the door. Before she exited however, a hand was placed on the small of Regina's back and Emma leaned in, whispering, "Please try to stay calm. If I'm not here…"

"I know, dear," Regina assured her. "I'll be fine."

Emma looked at her for a long moment, as if trying to assess whether or not her words were truth, but in the end she just had to believe they were. And so after Emma reluctantly exited the kitchen, Regina's gaze turned cold and landed on Snow, who looked as though she wasn't sure what to expect, but was going to stand tall and deal with it anyway.

"I will tell you the same thing I told Emma, Regina…" Snow started, looking ready to go on a tirade that Regina couldn't care less about. And as such, that was about as far as the woman got before Regina took a firm step towards her, and interrupted her train of thought.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear," she began, voice dangerously level. "We are not here to speak about your foolish concerns over my child's safety. I am more than aware that you do not like me, Snow, but that doesn't change the fact that I am a very capable mother; and between Emma and I, Henry is perfectly safe in this house."

Snow's surprise showed through her irritation, but she didn't contradict that claim as she asked, "Then why…?"

"Emma."

Snow blinked, confusion and worry washing across her features as the mother in her overrode the hatred she had for the woman in front of her, and she stepped towards Regina imploringly. "What's happened? Oh god, has she been…?" But Snow couldn't bring herself to say the word, her fear that her daughter was falling back on old habits making her wring her hands with anxiety.

"No, of course not; she knows better than that," Regina answered, practically defensive on the woman's behalf even though a part of her still feared that Emma really didn't. Her idiotic display of 'strength' still worried Regina, but she had hoped she made herself clear about what would happen should she try again and fail. She didn't want Emma attempting such a thing again; it was utterly foolish and completely counterproductive to trying to heal.

Snow's brow creased, unable to understand what else regarding her daughter could be so important that it warranted Regina to willingly speak with her. "Then what's wrong? Is she… is she alright? At least tell me that."

"Of course she's not alright," Regina practically snapped at her, blame and hatred showing beneath her darkened eyes. "Why on earth would I subject myself to speaking with someone like you otherwise?" It infuriated her, Snow's complete level of incompetence, but Regina took a moment to tear her gaze from the woman before her, knowing she had to keep her temper in check. Shaking her head in contempt, she began sweeping up the remainder of the glass as she spoke.

"Your daughter's broken," Regina told her after she had taken a breath, keeping her eyes on her task so she could try to disconnect from the feelings involved in it. "And I'm aware that you blame me for that, and I won't deny that I've had my part in it. But Emma was broken long before I even met her. Her anger, her resentment, and most of all her trust issues, stem from living her entire life feeling betrayed and abandoned by the people who were supposed to love her—"

"No," Snow interrupted, her tone furious and defensive as she realized what it was Regina was implying. "No. You, of all people, Regina, don't get to stand there and blame me for my daughter's abandonment—!"

"I'm not blaming you, Snow," Regina snapped, tearing her eyes from the pile of glass to glare fiercely at the woman in front of her. "She is."

Snow's expression went from infuriated to wounded within seconds, before denial kicked in and she shook her head, unable to believe Regina's words. "No, you're lying. Emma knows we didn't have a choice—"

"Yes, she knows that," Regina freely admitted, because it was the truth. That didn't, however, seem to make any difference at all to the woman who had once spent the nights of her childhood crying for her parents who weren't there. "She knows I forced your hand; she knows that if it wasn't for me, she most likely would have had something resembling a normal childhood, with a real home and parents who loved her. But that does not change that fact that she grew up feeling unloved and unwanted; and it certainly doesn't erase the hurt she feels for being condemned to a horrible life by her parents, just for the good of a kingdom she was never even a part of."

Snow stared down at her, eyes large and vulnerable as she tried to hold in how upset those accusations made her. Suddenly she looked no more than the child she once was being scolded by her stepmother, yet instead of giving Regina a sense of superiority, all it did was cause her even more discomfort over how incredibly screwed up her ties to Emma really were.

It wasn't as though she really had a choice in the matter though. Things just were how they were.

"She… actually told you that?" Snow asked her, voice soft and disbelieving as her gaze screamed for Regina to tell her that it really wasn't true.

Regina swallowed hard, remembering that night. Anger and sadness brewed in her gut, and she had to look away again and try to breathe so it wouldn't overwhelm her. "I held her while she cried," Regina told her, voice much softer than the blame she felt should've been expressed. "And I… believe me, Snow, I tried to explain to her that it was my fault, because I know that it is. But all it did was cause her more pain, to hear me express an apology and regret for what I had done, as she has never once heard that from you."

Snow opened her mouth to speak, but Regina didn't let her. She wasn't finished. "And instead of fixing the relationship with your daughter, you've become so goddamn inflated with your own self-righteousness you've taken to ruining mine instead, solely because you cannot fathom yourself to blame for a piece of Emma's broken heart." The words were filled with contempt as hatred burned inside her; and god, Regina couldn't look at her, because she was sure if she did, something would explode. "And I don't care if it's some backwards attempt at trying to fix the only thing you think you're able to, because all it's doing is causing our son discomfort, and her to resent you even more."

Snow swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes beginning to water at Regina's words. She had thought she was doing the right thing, but the truth of it was, she wasn't. It was so very far from it, and she needed to hear this. She needed to fix this, because Regina sure as hell couldn't.

"Mine and Emma's relationship is just that, ours," Regina continued firmly, furiously sweeping the broken glass into the dustpan. "And you are by far my least favorite person on this earth, but you're Emma's mother, and one source of her pain; pain that I…" Her voice choked up, and Regina had to take a breath before revealing, "I desperately wish for her to no longer experience. So if you're so goddamn content on trying to 'fix' her life, Snow, do yourself a favor and focus on the only part of it that you actually have control over."

Burying all her feelings enough so that she could look up at her, Regina's demanding gaze met one full of self-loathing and guilt as she finished, "So if you care, even a little, about how much pain Emma has inside of her, you need to grow up and start dealing with your own guilt. You need to tell your daughter that you love her, that you wanted her, and that you are sorry; because if you don't, I guarantee that that there will come a time when you'll have lost her all over again."

"And you wouldn't want that?" Snow asked, the question filled with disbelief and misplaced anger. "Because I have a hard time believing it."

Regina took a deep breath and counted backwards from ten as she rose from the floor, bringing the dust pan over to the garbage. When she finally felt like she could address Snow without accidentally setting the house on fire, she bluntly told her, "I despise you." The glass tinkled as it fell into the waste bin, and afterwards Regina turned towards the other woman. "And believe me, dear, should there be an option where Emma would be perfectly content without you in her life, I would gladly be pushing for it."

Snow looked furious at that, but it honestly didn't even matter, as Regina knew it was pointless to even wish for such a thing.

"But there isn't," Regina continued bitterly, loathed to admit it. Still, other things mattered more. "So yes, Snow, I wouldn't want such a thing. I would much rather Emma play happy family with you and your Charming idiot than spend the rest of her life believing that you both don't care about how badly you've hurt her. Because in case it's escaped your narrow-minded notice, I love Emma far more than I could ever hate you."

Snow pursed her lips into a tight line, anger and guilt and sadness brewing behind her eyes before trying to implore, "David and I never meant to—"

"I don't care," Regina interrupted, not about to let the woman go on a meaningless tirade. "I'm not interested in hearing your excuses, Snow, because it's not me who should be hearing them. I kept you here to explain to you what needed to happen, and now you've heard it. That was all this conversation was for."

Grabbing the trash bag out of the waste bin with the intentions of properly disposing of its contents, she shot Snow one last look before finishing cruelly, "Now, do be a dear, and go somewhere you're actually wanted, because it certainly isn't here."

TBC…