Chapter 29
Monday came and went. Emma had sincerely hoped Regina was telling the truth when she said everything that had been keeping her so busy would be resolved by then, but that evening Emma had yet again arrived back to an empty apartment, and she had eaten her dinner alone. She didn't stay up late enough to hear Regina get home.
But when Emma called her on Tuesday lunchtime – something she did purely out of habit now, rather than any kind of expectancy – Regina actually picked up. Emma blinked in shock. "Regina?"
"Is everything okay?" Regina asked. Emma could hear people talking in the background.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just…" Emma faltered, realising she hadn't even had a reason for calling. "I wanted to know if you'd be home for dinner tonight."
Regina sighed, and she sounded genuinely sorry. "No, I don't think so. Things are crazy here today."
"Do you want me to leave something for you?"
"Please. I do love your cooking," Regina said. Emma lit up inside.
"Okay," she said eagerly. "Any preference?"
"Surprise me," Regina replied, and there was a hint of her old, playful self in there. Emma could almost hear her smirking. But then, "I have to go, Emma. I'll speak to you soon."
She hung up quickly, leaving Emma feeling deeply unsatisfied and more than a little confused.
They were breaking up. She knew it. After a few more days of silence, Emma even started rehearsing her speech in her head. She was determined to go out with dignity, to not cry or beg Regina to take her back, but she knew it would be hard: this was the first time in her life that she'd ever desperately wanted a relationship to continue, and it wasn't even a proper relationship to begin with.
By Friday, she was spending most of her workday miserably Googling apartments. She had some pathetic idea that if she was even slightly prepared for her inevitable dismissal, it might hurt a bit less. She was slouched over her keyboard and aimlessly clicking her way through listing after listing, knowing full well that it was futile, when Violet slowly approached her desk. She moved like she was trying not to startle a sleeping animal, and yet Emma still jumped when she noticed her loitering.
"Shit," she yelped, making Violet flinch away.
"Sorry," she squeaked. When she thrust out a piece of paper, her hands were shaking. "I just wanted to give you this invoice."
Emma took it, guilt gnawing at her, and watched as she started to rush away.
"Violet," she called out. The intern turned to look at her with terror on her face. When Emma gestured for her to come back, it only grew.
"Did I do it wrong?" she asked.
Emma blinked. "What? Oh, no, don't be ridiculous. It's fine. Sit down for a second, will you?"
Violet found a chair and reluctantly dragged it to the corner of Emma's desk.
"Look," Emma said. "I've been horrible to you ever since you started working here. It hasn't been intentional – I just want you to know that."
Violet blinked at her, looking oddly starstruck. "I thought you hated me."
"Not at all. It's just been a weird few weeks – months, really – and you keep catching me off guard. I've never known anyone to walk as quietly as you," Emma said, and Violet smiled nervously. "I just wanted to apologise. You shouldn't have to creep around feeling scared that I'm going to bite you. I'm not like that, I promise."
"Okay," Violet nodded. She took a deep breath before asking, "Is it true you're dating Regina Mills?"
Emma frowned. "You know her?"
"Not really. But I heard some of the editors talking, so I Googled her. Also, Ingrid won't stop going on about her – I think she's, like, her idol."
Emma snorted. "Well, I won't tell Regina that. Her head's already way too big."
Looking positively delighted that she was sharing a joke with her, Violet breathed, "Really?"
"Yeah, but I kind of like it. I'm a sucker for arrogance," Emma sighed, before remembering that she was talking to an 18-year-old. "You should be smarter than that, though. If you're dating, then make sure you find someone who's nice too."
"I'm not dating yet. I want to concentrate on my career."
"…aren't you still in high school?"
"I graduated in the summer. I'm doing this internship for extra experience before I go to college in September."
Not for the first time, Emma felt a pang of envy for someone who'd managed to get their life on track so much quicker than she had. "That's pretty clever. How much longer are you going to be with us?"
"Just a few more months."
"Well, I'll do my best to stop scaring you in that time," Emma said. "And if I do, try not to take it personally. I think I spent my first two years here feeling exactly like you do now and it was kind of stressful."
Violet smiled. "Okay. Can I yell back at you?"
"Don't push it," Emma said, but she was laughing. "Go on, get back to doing perfect invoices."
Violet skipped off, leaving Emma to sit back in her chair and swivel for a second. She knew Regina had her stupid 'no apologies' rule, but Emma wasn't sure she could ever buy into that herself: she'd spend the past couple of weeks feeling ridiculously tense and snapping at anyone who stumbled into her path, and part of her had started to worry that maybe she was turning into some kind of Regina 2.0. But now that Emma had finally said sorry for being such a terrible bitch to the only person in that office who was lower down on the pecking order than she was, she felt so much better.
While she was riding the wave of doing brave things, Emma picked up her phone and dialled the number for her bank, which – after Regina's and her favourite pizza place – was now one of only three that she knew off by heart.
The conversation was the same as ever. Please hold. I'm sorry, the manager isn't available. Please call back later.
Emma hung up with a huff, and then her gaze fell onto her list of recent calls. It was only then that she realised she hadn't been called by a creditor in nearly two weeks.
She staggered home at the end of the day ready to drop face-first onto her bed and sleep for the next 14 hours. She hadn't seen Regina since the previous weekend, but she'd slowly gotten used to that. It was like a toothache: no matter how badly it hurt, eventually it just started to fade into the background.
Which is why she dropped her phone and keys to the floor with a shriek when she walked into the apartment and found Regina sitting on the couch, waiting for her.
"Fuck," Emma gasped. "Don't do that!"
"Do what?" Regina asked. She was smiling, but only barely. There were dark circles under her eyes and she had already changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of yoga pants.
"Hide in the shadows like that," Emma said, willing her breathing to slow down. She picked up her dropped belongings and entered the room. "What are you doing home?"
"I finished work early. I wanted to talk to you about something."
Oh, God. Here it is. Emma's heart cracked, because she recognised the look on Regina's face all too well – it was a sorry, determined expression that was always followed by something like, "Look, Emma, here's the thing…" Then Emma would spend the next two days watching The Proposal on repeat and eating nothing but Ben & Jerry's before shaking it off and pretending like she'd never cared that much about any of it in the first place.
Except she wasn't so sure she would be able to manage that this time round.
"Okay," Emma said, taking an uncertain step forward. "Should I sit?"
"Please."
Emma sat as far away from Regina as she could, pressing herself stiffly into the corner of the couch. She wished she hadn't worn such tight jeans that day, because they were cutting into her stomach and doing absolutely nothing to make the rolling in her gut go away.
Regina released a long breath. She suddenly looked so much older.
"I know I've been absent for the past two weeks," she said. She was looking at Emma properly for the first time since they'd sat in her office together, and that only made Emma feel more nervous. "There have been a lot of loose ends that needed tying up. I didn't think it would take this long, but I'm finally done."
Emma didn't know heartbreak could feel so much like standing at the very edge of a cliff. She closed her eyes, wishing Regina would just get it over with and finally push.
"Regina, it's okay. I get it. I—"
"I've paid off your debts."
Emma's eyes snapped back open again. Regina wasn't the type of person to do practical jokes, but maybe she'd turned over a new leaf.
"I'm sorry," Emma said slowly. "You've done what?"
Regina smiled weakly. "I think you heard me."
"I need you to say it again."
"Why?"
"Because I'm pretty sure you're kidding, but I need to be certain."
Regina sighed with all her usual impatience, and Emma knew then she was telling the truth. Something jolted in her stomach like a truck had hit her. "I've paid off your debts. It took longer than I expected because there were so many different parties involved, but—"
"Wait," Emma interrupted her, her voice piercing and almost hysterical. "You can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Because it's a shit ton of money! And because you didn't have to. What the hell have I done to deserve it?"
Regina was looking at her like she was insane. "You didn't need to deserve it. I just did it because I wanted to."
Emma took a shaky breath. "Regina, I can't let you."
"Well, I suspected you'd say that. That's why I did it without telling you."
"But this is… This is way too much," Emma said, and she was suddenly stammering. She couldn't get the words out quickly enough, and they were crashing into one another in her mouth. "You can't possibly expect me to just say 'okay' and accept this."
"Emma," Regina sighed, the circles under her eyes getting darker. "Listen to me. The amount of money you owed – it was a lot. For you, it was basically life or death. But for me, it's barely anything. I could earn that amount on any given day. You can't seriously have thought I would just sit back and let you struggle with it on your own."
"But… but…" Tears were bubbling up in Emma's throat, and she swallowed them down. "It's too much. It's way too much, Regina."
"For you, maybe. Not for me."
Regina saw the wobble in Emma's jaw then and edged across the couch, reaching out to take her hand. It was the first time they'd touched properly in weeks, and it was that fact that finally tipped Emma over the edge.
"Oh, darling," Regina sighed, wiping away the one stubborn tear that had managed to trickle down Emma's cheek. "Please don't be sad. Everything is fixed now."
"But I don't deserve for it to be fixed. Not just like that. I made this huge fucking mess of my life and it's not right that someone else has walked in and cleaned it up for me."
"You're not being fair to yourself," Regina said. "Your start in life was very different to mine. Do you seriously think I'd be where I am today if I'd grown up in foster care, or in prison? You've done the best with what you have, and I'm very proud of you for that. And true, you've also made some very stupid mistakes, but so has everyone. The difference here was that the only person suffering from your mistakes was you."
"And about 16 loan companies up and down the East Coast," Emma said miserably, but Regina just chuckled.
"They have more than enough money to get by." She stroked Emma's cheek as she said it, and Emma trembled slightly beneath her touch. "And so do I. The only person who needs some help is sat right in front of me."
Emma was swallowing hard, determined not to cry anymore, even though the tender way Regina was looking at her made it nearly impossible not to.
"I really was trying," Emma insisted. "I've been calling my bank for days trying to arrange a meeting. No one wanted to talk to me."
Regina quietly said, "I know. I'm afraid I asked them not to speak to anyone besides me or my accountant while this was getting straightened out."
"You... did?"
"I did. Your account manager was a bit startled by your sudden determination, but I was very proud of you for how hard you were trying."
"Regina," Emma sighed, and her voice stopped just short of being whiny. "You have to stop this."
"Stop what?"
"Being so nice to me. I haven't deserved it. I can't accept any of this."
"Oh, and what are you doing to do? Go out and get yourself in another hundred grand of debt just to get back at me?"
Emma glared at her. "No. But I need to pay you back, or something."
"I thought you might say that," Regina said, rolling her eyes like this was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. She reached towards the coffee table and picked up a piece of paper. "My accountant drew this up for you."
Emma blinked down at it. It was a repayment plan, if you could really call it that: the amount she was supposed to be repaying every month was less than what her new phone bill cost, and that wasn't even something she was paying herself anymore.
When she didn't respond, Regina said, "Now, I should make it clear that I think this is ridiculous. I don't want your money. But if you think it'll make you feel better, then this is what we can do."
"But it'll take me until I'm about 200 to pay you back," Emma said.
"I know. I'm fine with that."
"But... why?" Emma demanded. That was the real problem with all this – she simply couldn't understand why Regina would even care enough to help her in the first place.
Regina thought about it for a second. "Because you were struggling. And I wanted to make your life easier."
Emma blinked. "And that's it?"
"That's it."
"I don't owe you anything else?"
"Well, you are technically still working for me," Regina said with her favourite wicked smile. "So as long as this doesn't affect your job performance, then no. It's a clean slate."
"But, I just…" Emma hated herself for protesting again, but she'd been weighed down by her debt for too many years. Letting someone else remove it from her shoulders wasn't quite as simple as she once might have thought. "Don't you think you're letting me off too easy?"
Regina gave her that same soft look again, and it made Emma's stomach go heavy. "What part of this has been easy for you exactly, Emma?"
"You know what I mean. Wouldn't it be better to... I don't know. Just make me a spreadsheet to help me repay everyone by myself?"
Regina's eyebrow slowly arched. "You think a spreadsheet would be able to fix this?"
"No. Of course not. But I just feel like I should have to do this on my own."
"And what would that achieve?" Regina asked. "You'd have another 10 years of stress and financial difficulty ahead of you, and you'd probably fall back into your old ways without even meaning to because you still wouldn't be getting the support you need. You might even have to declare yourself bankrupt, and I'm not going to let that happen to you. I have the money that can help, so why shouldn't I use it? I'm not trying to teach you some grand lesson about humility here. I'm just trying to make things better."
It was too fucking surreal, and even in the face of all the things Emma still wanted to say, she found herself grappling around for her phone instead. "If I check my banking app, what will I find?"
"It will probably look the same right now," Regina said. "It will take a few days for all the money to go through the system. But if you check again next week, then you'll find a perfectly healthy balance. No scary red numbers." She paused, then admitted, "Though I'm afraid your credit score may be permanently shot to pieces."
Emma let out a watery laugh. "Yeah, well. I'd kind of resigned myself to that a long time ago."
She wanted to reach out and kiss Regina all over her face. She wanted to curl up in her lap and sob for the next hour, until all those dirty, stressful tears that she'd been holding in for the past 10 years had finally left her. But instead of doing either of those things, she just reached for Regina's hand and squeezed it. She poured all the thanks she could ever express into that touch.
"I owe you literally everything, you know."
Regina smiled back at her. "You're being melodramatic."
"I am not. You've saved my life."
She could tell from the glimmer in Regina's eye that she realised all that and more, but out loud she just laughed. "I have missed your wild exaggerations, Miss Swan. These past two weeks have been unbearable without you."
"They have?"
"Of course. Especially when you were calling me and I had to keep ignoring you."
"Oh," Emma said, deflating a bit. "Yeah. Why... why did you do that?"
Regina squeezed her hand once more. "Because I didn't want to get you involved in any of this. You've been through enough, and it was about time someone took over. Besides, I was usually arguing with debt collection firms whenever you called – they really are incredibly difficult people to work with." There was a pause, and for a moment she looked slightly sheepish. "I managed to talk them out of a lot of the interest, by the way. That full figure I wrote down for you wasn't what actually got paid."
Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes. Of course Regina could negotiate her way out of that as well.
"You're the craziest person I've ever met," she said, and Regina looked quite proud of that.
"That's definitely not the worst thing that's ever been said about me."
"I know. I've said much worse," Emma mumbled, her cheeks flushing. "Regina... look, everything I said to you when we were in my apartment – I didn't mean it. I was angry and scared and I lashed out and it was a really cheap shot. I'm sorry."
"You know I've already forgiven you," Regina said, pulling Emma close and kissing her forehead. Emma's eyes fluttered closed and she took a deep breath, soaking up the smell that she'd missed so badly. "And another thing – I appreciate that you've been looking for a new apartment, but please don't think I want you to get out of here. You can stay as long as you like."
"I can?"
"Of course. You do make an excellent chicken piccata."
Emma laughed, unable to stay away from her for a moment longer. She shuffled forward and burrowed her face in Regina's neck. Regina slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer.
"Thank you." Emma said it quietly, and Regina knew she wasn't talking about the cooking compliment.
"You're welcome," she replied, her mouth on Emma's hair. "You can relax, okay? I've got you."
Emma nodded, finally daring to let herself believe it.
