The driver pulled over in front of an excluded apartment building. The process of getting here took half an hour. Emma examined the building out the window. She was confused to see how the paparazzi are not around this location. But she trusted that Neal was true to his words.
She paid the driver with much higher tip than she normally gave and exited the car. She paused for a moment and observed the building. Strangely, there were no lights from any of the windows or any pots of plants or chairs set out in the balconies. It almost seemed as if nobody lived inside the building.
Then, her attention changed when her eyes caught sight of Neal hovering forward on the balcony of the first floor. He smiled widely when he settled his eyes down at her. Playfully, he lifted both his arms and waved.
"Come right on up!"
Hearing him shout struck a cord in her anxiety. This area seems to be less occupied with people. But she feared somehow there was a reporter or a cleverly disguised photographer lurking around, recording their every move.
Emma crossed her arms across her chest. She didn't have it in herself to yell back but she had no other choice if she wanted him to hear her.
"..You have the ability to let that happen. Let me in."
Neal shook his head. His smile widened and she did not like the look of that at all. He gestured his hand down to the fire exit ladder that went straight down to the wall all the way up to where he stood.
"Or you could climb?"
"You're not serious…"
Neal laughed to see the shock written in her face. He leaned his arms against the ledge, holding his gaze with her frantic looking eyes. He had no intentions to make it easier for her at all.
"What will be the fun in that? Come on, climb. You're a New Yorker now. Isn't this something you have to do at least once in your life?"
"Neal, it may be hard for you to believe, but I've never had any reason to use something like this. Don't make me do this."
"Well, you came all this way. Do you want to leave so soon?"
She huffed a sigh angrily. He was not going to spare her. She has to climb.
She moved towards the fire exit ladder while keeping her gaze at his stupid grin. When she reached the ladder, her eyes nervously looked forward to this safe invention that is supposedly designed to be safe enough to climb. She pulled the handle of her purse up to her shoulder and pulled the sleeves of her blazer low to her elbow.
I hate you, you motherfucker.
She couldn't do it right away. For a moment, she closed her eyes and silently prayed she will not slip and break her neck. Slowly she grabbed onto the bar and climbed the first step then the next.
Neal watched her climb reluctantly to the top in a slow pace. He could feel the anger she had towards him for making her do something like this. But it did not stop him to open his mouth for her to hear words she found in no way motivating.
"That's my girl! You are still stubborn as always, but always hate to be defeated. Really, your pride sometimes brings that familiar Emma out of you."
Emma reached to the top. A few seconds ago, she was ready to grab Neal by the neck and attack him. But all she could feel is fear of never standing on leveled ground again. She desperately reached out her hand for his.
"Bae! Help, please."
With a chuckle, he stepped off from the ledge and went to help her. He took her hand and helped her onto the balcony. Breathlessly, she rushed over to the side of the wall with her fists clenched tightly. She felt so relieved to have accomplished that without hurting herself.
She was out of focus for a moment that it took her a second to notice that Neal still held onto her hand. She pulled herself together and gently pulled her hand away from his hold.
"S-So, can we go inside now?" She asked.
Neal looked at her. It was all laugh and jokes for that short moment. But now, he did not want to laugh or play around. He approached her until he was close to her body. His eyes stared into hers so deeply she was filled with instant regrets to ever suggest meeting him.
This very situation was a poor trick fate had in store for Neal. Leaving Massachusetts and living together in their own little apartment were the goals a much younger naïve Neal had. He set his mind that Emma was the only woman for him. He found love that his parents failed to find in each other, and he was going to start afresh without them being in the picture.
His feet are planted on a balcony of a cozy little apartment that is fitting for two. The woman he proclaimed his love for the first time is standing right before his eyes.
Without thinking about the truthful reality both of them live in, the delusion of them living his dreams and future goals gave him a strange feeling of happiness. This was what he saw in his mind, what he truly set out to manifest for his future. They absolutely came true. Only, with a horrible twist.
Emma lowered her eyes. Seeing her do this broke Neal away from his fantasy.
He walked away from her and climbed into the open window. She simply followed him.
His apartment room was intimately small. Emma expected him to live in an overly lavish wide flat enriched with all that money could buy. Instead, she saw the complete opposite.
The room was divided into two parts. Downstairs, there was a small kitchen planted in a small cave just above the bedroom. From across the kitchen, a small kitchen table was laid out with two chairs. Right next to it, there was a small office table with Neal's laptop and paperwork all laid out. A cork bulletin board is nailed above his office table, filled with endless notes and visual pictures that Emma can only guess they are for his next script.
A beautifully crafted wooden stairway is built right next to the wall, leading up to an exposed bedroom with no walls to shield what is contained inside. There is a simply made bed with a rack of clothes sitting in the corner.
It was certainly tiny, but underwhelming and cozy.
Emma's eyes wandered around the room, not realizing Neal watched her curious eyes roam about. He moved to the kitchen and brought her attention with an inviting smell of something incredibly familiar.
"You didn't eat, Bae?" Emma asked.
Neal had a bag of warm Chinese food he ordered before Emma arrived. He grabbed it off the counter and brought it to the table. She watched him untie the tag and pull out what was contained inside. She saw that there was enough food for a party of two.
"Thought we could have a meal together. Just like old times."
"No no, Bae," she protested.
Neal smiled. He tossed the bag aside and set the chopsticks by each seat for himself and Emma. Her reaction was no surprise to him.
He went back inside the kitchen and opened the fridge. He arched his back and leaned in to see what is inside. He didn't have much, only condiments, cold beverages, and bottles of water.
"I got Modello. If I recall, you cannot enjoy your chow mein without it. Want one?"
"I'm not hungry," she lied.
The smell of delicious takeout made her mouth water. Just from one whiff, she was easily able to identify what he ordered for her: orange chicken, fried rice, and chow mein with egg rolls on the side. She always called it her "basic bitch take-out" whenever she and Neal had enough money for takeout. She was incapable to order anything different, no matter what she got the exact same order when it came to Chinese takeout.
"Modello it is."
He grabbed a pack of glass bottles of Modello. As he closed the fridge shut, he took the magnetic bottle opener from the door and returned back to the table. He sat himself down and unwrapped his wooden chopsticks.
Emma stood her ground. She was unable to do anything but watch his every move.
Neal separated the wooden chopsticks and rubbed the front end of the sticks together to scrape off any splinters and placed them in his mouth. Instead of discarding the wrapper, he folded it neatly into a small rectangle over and over again until it was small enough to his liking. He placed the folded wrapper on the table, pulled out his chopsticks from his mouth, and laid the front end gently on top of it.
Pleased at his work, he looked up at Emma.
"See, I remember. You were always adamant with my chopstick manners. I have you know you converted me to use chopsticks like this ever since."
"I said I'm not hungry. We can talk when you're done eating."
"No, we're going to talk after you and I eat. I know you haven't been feeding yourself. Starving always seems to kick in after the very first stage of your panic. So, listen, I know I am beyond excelling in making your life miserable only because you're tagging along the ride with Jonesy. But the rule is for you to not get sick or hurt yourself. So, stop denying how delicious this food smells and eat, I know you don't have it in you to reject greasy takeout, especially when it's your favorite."
Emma was in defeat with this battle.
Tonight, she spent an enormous amount of money for transportation just to get to an area she was not at all familiar with. She had accomplished one of her biggest fears, which was climbing up a fire exit ladder that she had no faith that such an invention was strong enough for any human being to safely use. She is alone and talking to her ex without informing her boyfriend about it who now wants to share a meal with her. She came so far just to talk this man.
She was unsure with herself if you could handle any more of his conditions that pushed her off edge. But sharing a meal seems to be the most harmless thing he has put her through so far.
She pulled out a chair that sat next to him and sat herself down. She removed the handle of her purse off her arm and lowered it by her feet.
Her normal reaction to eating takeout was quickly taking out the wooden chopsticks out of the wrapper and digging in before the food grew cold.
This was a rare moment for Emma to take her time. She removed the wooden chopsticks from the wrapper. There was a part of her she didn't want to not only enjoy the food, but also not eat the same way as she always did.
But she pushed the idea far from her head. It was no harm to be herself in front of Neal. She was already too deep into the waters of secrets.
Neal opened the bottle for him and Emma. He could not help but smile when he saw that she laid out the wrapper neatly folded close to her food.
Emma mumbled a quiet thank you when he gave her the bottle. He took his and raised it out to hers. In silence, they clanged their glass bottles and took the first sip.
It was hard to deny how delicious that first sip tasted to Emma. She took another long swig until the bottle was half full. She placed the bottle down and started at her food. She first started picking at her food. But after the first bite, the delicious taste of the food made it difficult for her to pretend she was not enjoying herself.
She was able to distract herself from feeling hungry from all the stress and commotion the media was causing. But the presence of food brought her back to feeling hungry. She ate every bite in enjoyment.
The two continued to eat in silence.
Neal was finished with his first bottle and move to the next. Emma couldn't help but be a little concerned that he was choosing to drink another. But from past memories, he was a strong drinker than her. Whenever he had his first taste of alcohol, he enjoyed the feeling it gave him so much, he was incapable to stop at just the first bottle.
Emma stopped eating and looked up at Neal. "..It's crazy to see you like this..to see both of us like this."
Neal took a long sip of his beer and put it down back onto the table. He twirled a few strands of chow mein and put it to his lips.
In between mouthfuls, he spoke. "What do you mean? Like the crazy shit you and Jonesy caused?"
Emma shook her head. "I mean, just look at us. Years ago, when we ate food like this, we were two broke teenagers who were not always lucky to afford take-out. But when we did have that luck, and that very luck stretched out, we'd be drinking beer – canned – in courtesy from your dad's fridge he always kept stocked up in the garage.
Neal laughed and placed his chopsticks down. He wiped his mouth clean with a napkin and leaned against the chair. He saw Emma starting to laugh as well.
His father used the garage as his man cave. Most of the times, he watched his games privately and smoked his cigars with a dozen cans of beer near his reach. He would refill his fridge with beer weekly that there were times he didn't notice some of them missing.
"I can see you have matured on your choice with beer. We argued relentlessly, and I mean relentlessly, about how canned verses glass is a big deal. Does this mean I was right all along?"
"Nah. Just got it to shut you up. I can listen to your whole science of how glass has this magical super power to make beer taste better all day. But I'll save it for another time for your precious lecture, teacher. Fuck, when we were kids, we didn't have a preference on what we liked, just whatever was available to fuck us up."
"Well, I grew to have a preference. I'm more of a 805 kinda girl now. But Modello is an exception."
Emma took her bottle and took a sip from it.
"I got this to be safe. This was the first brand we had together. For some reason, the old man just couldn't seem to part with this one."
Emma nodded, placing the bottle back down on the table. The thought of Neal's father brought attention to her curiosity. To this day, all she knows about the man was that he failed to be there for Neal and was reluctant to divorce Milah at first before finally going through with it. She wondered if Neal was repairing his relationship with his mother, he was doing the same with his father.
"I know it's hard for you. But how is your father? Have you spoken to him lately?"
Neal paused. He stopped all he was doing and looked away from Emma. She bit her lower lip in regret of asking this.
She knew fully well any mention of his father crossed the line for him. It was never easy to learn much about his father when she was his girlfriend. As his ex-girlfriend, it was no different.
"I haven't spoken to the old man in a long ass time. He did try to contact me when my mom and I started to pop up in the news. But he stopped, I think he got the message I want nothing to do with him. For some reason, I keep finding myself being a lot more easier on my mom, mainly because I remember she would try to be there for me, hear me out when I was lost and upset, and tell me she was sorry. But my dad..he was so broken from his marriage falling apart. I saw how he was too cowardly to face his problems with my mom, so he chose to keep himself hidden in that man cave of his."
Emma nodded.
She never met Neal's father before. But there was a time that could have happened. One night, Neal contacted her out of the blue when his parents began to fight. He had his SAT the next day, so sneaking out and doing something stupid to ease his pain were out of the question. He needed his rest and stay home to be able to arrive to school on time.
Later that night, he was rescued by an unexpected surprise. When he mentioned his parents were keeping him up from all the fighting, Emma secretly snuck out of her foster home and went over to him. Together, they secretly snuggled on the bed and hid under the covers.
Emma remembered how she held Neal in her arms, allowing his head to rest on her chest. It was dark for her to see, but she felt his eyes water with tears. She simply held him close and soothingly stroked his hair to soothe him from his pain.
The fight went on for a good while but it finally came to a stop. By then, Neal finally fell asleep. Emma was wide-awake, determined to be awake long enough to see him asleep before sneaking back out of the window to return to her room.
Suddenly, footsteps began outside Neal's door. Emma panicked when she heard the doorknob turn and the door slowly open ajar. She was grateful she and Neal were hidden under his bed sheets. She shut her eyes, praying which ever parent was going to come in will leave the room once they saw Neal was asleep.
The door did not open all the way. A shine of light crept through. Emma felt Neal stir and pulled her closer to his body.
She held her breath and remained absolutely still.
Footsteps continued until it was audible enough to tell whoever it was, was now inside the room to bid Neal goodnight. Fortunately, the footsteps ended by the time it reached the foot of the bed.
There was a long pause.
Emma was frightened to move or breathe. She covered her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. If she gets caught, Neal's parents would go for round two in their fight for sure.
"I'm sorry, son," Mr. Gold whispered.
It was his father.
"….I'm so sorry."
After saying those words, she heard him move away and exit the door. Once she heard the door click as it closed, she let out a quiet sigh in relief.
Emma regained back to the present reality once she heard Neal open another bottle. Just from a blink of an eye, he was finished with his second, straight to his third.
A sixteen-year-old Emma would keep quiet and let him take as many drinks as he desired. The twenty-eight-year-old version of her still did the same.
Neal changed through age. His height towered her a little by over an inch. His dark brunette hair grew longer but always held to the side. His face matured with fine lines and a light glow to his cheeks, but still so similar to the younger version she was familiar with. However, the pain he locked deep inside himself remained unchanging.
Neal threw the bottle back, forcing down gulps until it was half full. He lowered the bottle down and rolled his eyes down to the table with a laugh. He laughed too hard that he let out a loud burp.
Immediately, he covered his mouth for a split second.
"Excuse me. So…"
He wet his lips and lifted his gaze back at her. She could tell he was getting a little tipsy.
But Neal was not a sloppy drunk. He composed himself pretty well with a few drinks in him. At times like this, drinking helped him get through situations he was not all happy with. If Modello was going to get the edge off for him, Emma was wise enough to let him drink as many as he needed.
"So, where do you want to do this? I need a quick cigarette break. It's either by the window or here. Not many options to pick from."
"We can talk wherever you're comfortable."
He chuckled at her. "By the window it is then. You want another?"
Emma nodded. Drinking was not an ally only to him. She felt better having eaten some food to put less focus on how hungry she was. With her mind sharp and focused, a little alcohol did not hurt to ease her nerves.
He chuckled again. He eyed her unfinished bottle that sat next to her hand.
"You haven't finished your first."
Emma followed his eyes. She claimed the bottle in her hand, lifted it to her lips, and gulped every drop down without a pause. Once finished, she placed the empty bottle to join the others that Neal finished.
He unscrewed a fresh bottle for her and handed it to her.
"And you believed you were light weight. Bullshit."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Hey, I had one glass of one wine that one time, and it had an effect on me. I just didn't know.
"So you say. Let's finish this whole shit, only two more. Grab your chair."
Both of them moved their chairs and placed it closer to the open window. Emma sat herself down with her drink in her hand. Neal brought the box of beer and placed it down by his feet.
There was a half open box of cigarettes and a blue lighter on the windowsill.
Emma was once a strong advocate against cigarettes. But she sits in that chair as a hypocrite, wedding planning pushed her to the edge to lean towards to something more comforting that a single glass of wine was just not enough. She smoked for a brief period of time. Now, only chose to smoke only one when she drank.
Neal sat himself down and grabbed the box and lighter. He pulled a cigarette out of the box. But before lighting it, he handed the box to Emma.
"Want one?"
Emma raised her bottle and gave it a little shake. "Once I'm done with this one."
He coyly smirked at her. She ignored the way he looked at her teasingly, turning her gaze out to the window and quietly drank her beer.
With a freshly lit cigarette in his mouth, he tossed the box and lighter back onto the windowsill. Comfortably, he leaned back with his foot resting on the windowsill and let out a long drag.
His eyes glued to Emma. He removed the cigarette from his mouth and had it tucked between his fingers.
"You smoke now?"
"Don't start with me on that, Gold."
"You fucking hypocrite." He laughed out loud at her attack. "It's more fun learning about you this way. Everything is a surprise to me."
"I can't say the same for you."
Emma removed her eyes from the view and turned back to Neal. He was still smiling widely at her. When they moved the chairs, he placed his chair a little too close to hers. It was not a far reach for him if he simply moved a few inches to touch her.
But she did not move her chair. As matter of fact, showing him any signs that he could get a rise out of her or cower before him were the last things she wanted to do. She made the decision to bite the bullet. If she was not going to walk out of this apartment as a winner, she was going to make the best of it.
"I gotta admit, I am enjoying having you all to myself. Almost forgot why you came here in the first place. But I'm beginning to remember now. Just what do you have to say to me?"
Emma did not prepare a specific speech in her head during the ride here. It was not necessarily to rely on sounding authentic. Instead, it was the simple reason that she had no idea how to convince Neal to consider making amends with Killian for all the pain that one man caused. However, she did know Neal and she knew how to talk to him.
She took another swig of her drink. Once satisfied, she placed the bottle back down to her lap.
"I really felt that you were the only person who understood me. We both had parents who were..not exactly the kind of people we asked for to guide us, love us, and prepare us for any shit life is capable of putting us through. I was so alone and lost when I saw others at school who had..you know, a normal family with worrying parents that were always there for them. I felt like a misfit that I didn't have that kind of life. Let alone a name, I had a last name that belonged to – what felt like a hundredth – foster parents that I am still stuck with today."
Neal listened carefully. He took another long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out to the window. But his eyes returned to hers, it felt unnaturally regretful for him to not be able to see her as she spoke.
"When I met you, I didn't feel so alone. I really felt not only loved by you, but my equal. When you felt anger towards your parents, the pain when they fought, and the fear when you were still not ready to see them divorced, I felt that. I was angry with you. I felt the pain with you that I wished I could take some of it so you could feel it less. And I absolutely understood the fear of losing that family dynamic. It seemed so obvious that a divorce was so necessary for them. But it was still fucking scary to see the mold of your family cut in half."
There was a strong urge in Neal to reach out to touch her, have her in his arms. For years, they have not spoken to each other. But the mention of their parents and the great struggles they had because of them were big triggers for both of them.
His heart was racing. His body tensed just from hearing about this subject he had avoided to talk to anybody else. But he composed himself, refusing to show her how talking about this affected him.
Emma finished her bottle and laid it below her feet. She took a moment to gather her thoughts together. She kept her eyes away from his, wandering her gaze low to the floor. It was growing more difficult for her to continue while seeing the way he was looking at her.
"And you know very well how I felt about my parents. I can't tell you how much I appreciated you being there for me and not questioning or giving your own personal diagnosis on where I stood with them. I was so angry with them for giving me away but still keeping in touch with me. At the same time, I was upset and tempted to open up to them because I really wanted parents of my own. Even with yours, I remember feeling even the smallest envy when your dad picks you up from school..or when your mom was screaming the top of her lungs in the crowd at our graduation."
Emma could not continue. She had her drink. She needed a cigarette.
She reached for the box of cigarettes. Her hands were beginning to shake because reminiscing back to the past was terribly triggering her. From the first try, managed to pull out a cigarette. She took the cigarette with her mouth and cupped one of her hands around the end. She tried to turn the lighter on, but struggled.
Neal placed his cigarette back in his mouth. He sensed her jump a little when he leaned forward and their legs touched. He took the lighter from her hands and turned it on for her. While the flame was on, she carefully leaned forward for the end of the bud to burn.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He tossed the lighter back where it belonged and removed the cigarette out of his mouth.
Emma took a short drag, exhaling the smoke smoothly for a brief moment before choking. She turned her head away and coughed. This was her first cigarette in a year. If she drank another, perhaps she could have let out that first drag smoothly.
She took another drag, a long one. This time she managed to breathe out the smoke smoothly.
Neal waited patiently for her to finish. It bothered him that she was looking away from him but he let it slide.
"I forgave them."
Hearing those three words shocked Neal. This time he did not hold back in hiding his reaction. His shock was predicted through his eyes.
"Holidays and birthdays, not all of them, but those were the days I would meet with them secretly. You remember, my foster parents were pretty religious, so they didn't really celebrate anything. I can't believe I did that one time, but you remember I brought you to a camping trip with my biological parents."
Both of them broke into laughter.
Emma and Neal were seniors in high school. Her parents traditionally went out camping every spring, so they took the risk on inviting Emma to join them during her spring break without telling her foster parents. They expected a rejection but Emma gave them a condition that she would only go if her boyfriend tags along. Her father was not thrilled with the idea of his daughter going on a trip with her boyfriend, especially the horror of the two sharing a tent together. But they only saw their daughter a few times a year in secret. They had no choice but to agree.
It was awkward at first. But when the tents were all set up, the vibe instantly changed effortlessly. Emma and her mother set the table and prepared the food. Her father and Neal cooked the meat on the grill and talked on and on about a subject they both highly resonated in.
Food had a way of bringing people together somehow. And that very day, it brought the four of them closer than ever.
"I think your dad was scared for it to get dark. Man, the poor guy tried to keep us up. Even had me do any task he could think of."
Emma covered her lips with her hand and laughed at the memory.
"Hey, it kinda worked. I didn't want you anyway near me when my dad was done with you. All that cutting firewood and picking up the garbage left you gross and sweaty. But I swear I think he was on his knees that night, praying I sleep arms length away from you."
Neal shook his head with a wide smile. "Ah damn, I woke up early that morning and saw him out of his tent. He already started a fire and had a cup of coffee in his hand. I swear, he almost fell off his chair when he saw me."
"My poor dad. If only he knew."
"Hopefully, to this day, that trip didn't change his opinion about me."
"No. He really did like you. Or else I wouldn't have brought you along to all those other secret meetings we had. I'm still really surprised my foster parents never found out."
Neal's smile disappeared immediately hearing this. "Fuck them. They were clueless people. Only expected for them to be so slow on catching on."
The room fell quiet.
For both of them, it felt good to laugh together.
This was the way Emma desired to reunite with Neal. Containing themselves away from social life was highly ideal for both of them. There would be mountains of food and beer to share amongst themselves. The conversations would be regarding memories of their pasts, movies, and future goals they are setting in stone starting tomorrow. This was the ideal reunion that was only pleasing in her mind.
All the ingredients for such a reunion have unusually still taken place. Social distancing from the loud world. Delicious Chinese take out and a pack of golden bottles of Modello. Reminiscing the past stories of their lives as teenagers and the struggling relationship they had with their parents.
But the end of all this is still in question whether she could succeed in changing his mind or fails and have him not only to continue ruining her and Killian, but himself in this unhealthy cycle of torment.
"I guess I broke the rule. You told me that if there's anything you already heard before, you don't want to hear it. Sorry. Thanks for letting me finish anyway."
Neal shook his head. "No, no I'll let that one slide. It hit close to home hearing that. I'm happy for you that you're in a better place with your parents. How are they doing?"
"Same old, same old. My mom still can't remember me. And my dad still can't speak but strong as ever. I hope you don't think I'm bragging. I just feel comfortable enough to say this to you out of anybody I know – you understand my situation by far the best. I..I feel so grateful to have finally forgiven my parents. For the first time, I opened up to my dad more than I ever allowed myself. And my future plans all have to do with making more of that connection and seeing my parents more. I am without a job now."
She bitterly chuckled at the last remark. She lifted the cigarette to her lips and took another drag. For a moment, she held it in her lungs and breathed slowly out of her breath. The smoke shot straight across the floor.
"Bae…"
Neal looked at her and watched her slowly lift her head. Her eyes settled back to look into his eyes. There were no expressions written on either one of their faces. The air around them felt uneasy and different. He could strongly anticipated that whatever she was about to say next would put him in a terribly difficult position.
"You always had a difficult relationship with trust. You certainly didn't give it to just anyone. And when you finally gave it to someone, you never believed in second chances if that was ever broken."
Neal tensed a slight in his chair. Emma caught one of his hands roll into a fist. But she continued.
"I believed that punishing my parents was a way to get back at them. No, actually, I believed it was the only way to get back at them. I ignored them. There were times I even threatened them I would expose our meetings to my foster parents. I was just so angry. But at some point in my life, I decided to forgive them because…"
Tears began to build in each of her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was cry. So, with a long sigh, she tried again.
"..because there is no satisfaction to keep punishing them. That was no life for me. Yes, they done something so horribly painful to me that only fucked me up for life. But if I never allowed them to keep in touch with me, I would have never come to the conclusion that I was capable to forgive them, to love them for the first time."
Neal looked at her long and hard. The light from his cigarette went out, but he didn't care.
"Where are you going with this?" he asked.
"Because you see in your eyes that you are causing well-deserved shame and embarassment for me and Killian, however, you are unable to see how you are going to be affected by all this. You will never stop hurting Killian. You will just keep going and going. Then, at the end, the anger you have against him will only to grow inside of you. The rest of your life will be played out as what more could you possibly do to ruin a man who broke your mother's heart and yours too."
The temptation to touch Neal itched at her. Perhaps reaching out to him physically might have the potential to get her point across. But she reminded herself that she would not cross that line.
"I still care about you, Bae. Right now, despite being your enemy, I feel your anger. I feel your pain that you have against such an asshole who have done such a thing to your mother. Just what kind of heartless bitch did he choose over her?...And lastly, I may not sense fear in you, but you are passionately against the idea on allowing Killian to give you any reason to forgive him. Really, Bae, at some point, the way you're carrying on with things regarding him, is no way to continue with life."
All of a sudden, Neal leaned closer to Emma, cupping one of his hands on her cheek and forced a kiss on her mouth. Her eyes widened. She accidentally dropped her cigarette to the ground. Fortunately, the fire was out. With both her hands, she pressed them against his chest, pushing him away from her.
He strongly held onto her face. Passionately, he explored her sweet familiar mouth. It felt familiar to feel her lips against his own. And he wanted more than this kiss, his hands were tempted to draw lower to her body.
Eventually, he allowed her to win her battle to push him away. He released her mouth and dropped his hand from her face. As he expected, she rose from her seat to leave but he grabbed her arm before she could take another step forward. Surprised by his behavior, she looked down at him.
"Let go. I said what I wanted to say. Now I'm ready to leave."
"And I heard every word. Stand still so I can reflect on them – sentence after sentence."
Her nerves were returning to her. She could not believe they just kissed. She didn't think her guilt could hold any more weight, but this day proved her wrong.
"Bae. Please," she whispered softly.
Tears fell down her eyes. Neal pulled his gaze away from her. He couldn't stand the sight of her cry, especially over what he did.
"Emma. Will you leave that fucker and stay with me?"
Emma's vision was blurred from her tears. She dried her eyes with her sleeve before the tears reached her cheeks.
They both knew the answer to that question. However, Emma tasted nothing but bitter shame in her mouth that she will have to once again give him the same answer.
"..I will always care about you. But I understand you'll hate me for now on."
His grip on her arm tightened. He wanted so badly to lean his head against her body to be able to feel her, to hear her heart beat, and smell her familiar scent. The craving to be so intimately close was hard to contain he let out his frustration through his one grip on her arm.
"You're digging yourself deep in this hole. Bodies are meant to be buried alone. Not together, Emma. I feel that other than him, you had enough of what I put you through. But I can't control all of this, if you're going to remain, there will be no going back for you."
"I love him, Bae. I just hope after all this you will find it in yourself to talk to him again. Make peace for you. Not him. Not for your mom. And not for Ellie. For you."
Emma slowly pulled her arm off from his grasp, noticing he loosened his grip. With one long look at him, she made her way to the door without looking back.
