A/N: Come on, I've not left you with a cliffhanger for months - you have to give me this one!
Emma's stomach suddenly felt like it was full of lead. Her entire body seemed to grow impossibly heavy, dragging her downwards, surrounding her with an overwhelming sense of dread. She held her breath, waiting for Regina to answer the question which she herself had not dared ever ask even though, she realised, it had been hovering at the edge of her subconscious for five days. Until Doctor Hopper had verbalised it, she'd been able to pretend it wasn't there, had successfully ignored its presence. Now, however, there was nowhere to hide.
Beside her, Regina remained silent. She too, was going through something akin to an existential crisis as she considered the question. Why had she gone to meet Emma? The justification she'd presented to herself had been to meet her wife for breakfast and show her support. But was that really the reason? Was that the only reason?
She looked down at her hands, fingers twisted together in her lap. She was fidgeting. Regina Swan-Mills didn't fidget. She balled her hands into fists, trying to stop the movement. Her nails dug into her palms. She squeezed harder.
"Regina," came a soft voice from beside her after what she recognised to be an uncomfortably long silence.
Raising her head, she turned to face her wife who was looking at her with a sad but understanding expression. A little piece of Regina's heart shattered just to see the way Emma looked at her; to know she had caused that look. Even after everything which had happened between them, the idea of Emma being hurt by her still made Regina's own gut clench.
"It's ok," the blonde whispered. "Whatever the truth is, I can take it. Just be honest with me. I need to know."
"I'm sorry," Regina said, the words catching in her throat as her eyes burned. "I'm so sorry, Emma. I do trust you, I promise."
"It's ok if you don't," Emma soothed, even though the words caused a heart-wrenching pain as she spoke them. "I get it, sweetheart. I understand. You have every right not to trust me -"
"But I do," Regina insisted. "I trust you, Emma. I know you want to fight this addiction. I know you are ready to do whatever it takes to stay away from gambling. I know that. I know you're trying."
"Just because your mind 'knows' something, doesn't mean your heart believes it," Emma offered sadly, reaching out to cup Regina's cheek and brushing away some of the fallen tears with the pad of your thumb. "I hurt you. I broke your heart. I broke us. I need to regain that trust and that's going to take time. It's ok, Regina. I don't blame you for protecting yourself and I'll be patient. As long as it takes to win back your trust, I'll be here, waiting. Putting in the work, going to the meetings, doing whatever it is I need to do to show you, every part of you, that you can trust me again."
Regina swiped the rest of her tears away and gripped Emma's wrist with her hand. "I know you're doing everything you can," she said with a watery smile. "I know I want to believe you. I know I want to trust you. But, well, I guess it's not enough to want it. I can't will our relationship back to how it was. I've got to be patient. All I can say is that I'm doing everything I can to rebuild my trust in you. I mean, I guess I thought I'd already done it. I thought that to think that I trusted you was enough but it seems it isn't. And that's ok, because now we both know and we can work together to rebuild my heart's trust in you. I want that, Emma."
"I want that too," Emma replied. "And I know it'll take time and that's ok. I'm not expecting this to change overnight. I'll be patient."
"I wish it could change overnight," Regina sighed. "I don't want to feel this way, Emma. I want to trust you fully again. I want us to go back to normal. I want to be able to fully support you and be the wife you deserve and you need me to be. Your rock, your constant. Someone you can always rely on."
"You are that person, Regina. Hell, you're here, aren't you? You gave me a second chance. You came to meet me after my meeting not to check up on me but to offer me support, to offer me a chance to talk. I so appreciate that, Regina. And yes, a part of you still remember what I did and that makes you wary or protective of yourself. You should be. I don't want you to blindly forgive me. For this to work, we both need to remain acutely aware of the risk of my addiction. It's not going away. I don't want you to just pretend that my fuck up didn't happen.
"But acknowledging the past doesn't mean we can't look towards the future. You are my rock. You are the person I can always rely on. I trust you, Regina. So much so that I trust that if for some reason you had turned up at the town hall and I wasn't there, I believe you would have come to find me rather than throwing your hands up in despair and going home, never to speak to me again, right? You believe in me, you would have come to find me and dragged me to the next meeting yourself."
"I would have," Regina nodded. "Not that I had planned that eventuality in my mind. Honestly, Emma, I never thought for a moment you weren't going to be there. It wasn't until Doctor Hopper," she turned and nodded to the man who had been quietly listening to the discussion, "asked me if there was a part of me who had wondered about whether you'd turn up that I even realised that thought had been present. I wasn't sitting in my car anticipating that you wouldn't show up. I was thinking about what I was going to order for brunch. Consciously, I hadn't considered the possibility of you not being there. But, well, I guess subconsciously I had. And I'm sorry for that."
Emma reached out her other hand and moved to grip both of Regina's in her own. "Never apologise to me for being aware that you're married to someone with a gambling addiction. Never. I need you to be aware. I need you to acknowledge that. For me, for you. For Henry. It's a part of me, Regina. And that means it's a part of our marriage whether we like it or not. I will spend the rest of my life trying to show you that I'm stronger than my disease, that I'm better than it. But that doesn't mean we pretend it doesn't exist or refuse to talk about it.
"My addiction is a big and scary part of who I am. It's my baggage, I suppose. And every day I'm trying to squash it into a suitcase and put it in the corner of the room but sometimes the zipper gives way. We both have to accept that and we can work together to stuff the temptations back in. But the suitcase isn't ever going to go away. It'll always be there. And if the zipper busts and I, we, don't give it the attention it needs, then the suitcase is gonna explode everywhere. I have no idea where this analogy came from but does it make sense?"
"It makes perfect sense," Regina nodded, lifting both of Emma's hands to her lips and kissing the knuckles. "And any time you need help, just tell me. I'll sit on the top of your suitcase while you work on tugging the zipper back together, ok?"
Emma beamed at the way her wife had taken her bizarre luggage analogy and bought into it. "Deal," she agreed, leaning over and kissing her softly. "Thank you."
Regina whispered, "you're welcome," before kissing Emma again. Archie looked down at some paperwork and pretended to be busy reading his untidy scrawl.
"Sorry, Doc," Emma said when the two had broken apart.
"No, no need to apologise to me. No need for me at all apparently. The way you two communicate is quite fascinating," Archie smiled at the two women. "And I don't usually say this to my clients this early on in our sessions but I've got a good feeling about your future."
Both women beamed at him, then at each other.
"I hope so," Emma said, looking directly into Regina's chocolate brown eyes.
"Me too," Regina replied, a gentle smile on her lips. "But," she added, turning back to their therapist, "we do need you. You ask all the right questions, clearly. That's what we need. Someone to ask us the hard stuff, get us to face some of the darker parts of ourselves and our thoughts. We know this isn't the end for us. We've got issues to work through but I suppose we've just reiterated that we're both committed to doing the work. And with you here to help us, I think we've got a good chance of success."
The car doors clunked closed, one after the other. Emma slid her key into the ignition but paused before starting the engine. She looked over to Regina who had lent her head back, resting on the headrest, eyes closed.
Emma leaned over and placed her palm on the woman's upper thigh. "Hey, you ok?"
The woman opened her eyes and slowly turned her head. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassured, flashing Emma a smile. "That was a heavy hour."
"It was," Emma nodded. "But good too."
"It was great," Regina agreed. "I feel like every time we meet with Doctor Hopper we take huge strides forwards. Or backwards, I suppose, if we're looking to get back to where we were."
"We're not going back to where we were," Emma replied. "That clearly wasn't the right place for me and therefore for us. We're moving forward. And I can't wait to see where we end up."
"Me neither," Regina replied. "For now, how about we end up at our home? Would you like to come for dinner?"
The blonde nodded enthusiastically at that invitation and kissed Regina lightly before starting the engine at last and pulling out of the space where she'd parked and heading down the street.
"Where are you going?" Regina asked when Emma reached a junction and indicated left.
"Um, back to the college to get your car," Emma replied, still checking whether the road was clear for her to pull out.
"Don't worry about my car."
"But, you'll need it tomorrow to go grocery shopping," Emma pointed out.
"Then how about you drive me to collect it tomorrow?" Regina suggested.
Emma stopped watching the rush-hour traffic whizz by, preventing her from pulling out and turned to look at Regina. "What do you mean?"
"Stay the night," Regina offered. "I miss you, Emma. And after everything we talked about this afternoon, I need you near me. If you're comfortable with that, I mean. If you're not, then -"
"No, I'm comfortable," Emma said quickly. "More than comfortable. But only if you're sure."
"I'm sure," Regina smiled. "I'd like you to stay the night. The weekend, even, if you want."
"I'd love that. Do you think this is ok, though? With Henry and everything?"
A car horn beeped behind them, prompting Emma to realise she was still sitting at the junction and was missing opportunities to pull out as the traffic on the main road had slowed for a time. She quickly switched the indicator and after a final check, pulled out to the right, heading away from the college and towards the family home.
"I think Henry will be fine. He knows we're working on our relationship. He loves having you at ours, of course. And as far as us sleeping together, I'm afraid he's already more aware of that than we ever wanted him to be of the fact that that happens. Let's just try and keep it down this time."
"Well, I can't promise anything. You know how I love to hear you screaming my name."
Regina laughed, cheeks flushed, as she slapped Emma lightly on the forearm before rubbing the woman's skin, feeling the goose pimples her fingertips left in their wake. "Oh, honey. Who says I'm going to be the one screaming as I come?"
Resisting the urge to press her foot on the accelerator, Emma gripped the steering wheel a little harder and tried to concentrate on getting her wife back to their house safely, all the while planning her moves for later that evening, determined to force Regina to muffle her ecstasy into a pillow to avoid scarring their son but equally without compromising their own pleasure and desire for each other.
Predictably, Henry was thrilled to find out that his blonde mother was going to stay for dinner. He breezed over what the news that she'd be staying the night meant. No kid wanted to acknowledge that their parents had a sex life. Instead, he even asked if they could make pizzas again, having enjoyed it on Tuesday and wanting to spend as much as possible with both mothers.
Regina agreed and instructed Henry to get changed out of his school clothes so he could help her prepare the dough for the pizza bases.
"And you can help too," Regina said, turning to Emma who was sitting on the kitchen counter swigging a beer and looking wonderfully comfortable and at home. Well, she was home, Regina reminded herself.
"Sure, I'm game. What can I do?"
"Pour me some wine, firstly," Regina replied.
Emma just pointed to the glass already sitting on the side, a crisp chardonnay waiting to be drunk. "Didn't think I would help myself to a beer and not get you a wine, did you?" Emma asked, mock aghast.
To be fair, that had been what Regina had assumed but only because she'd gone upstairs to change out of her work clothes as soon as they got home and had missed Emma's drinks preparation, as well as not having noticed the wine. "Sorry," she said, reaching for the glass. "And thank you."
"You're welcome. Cheers," Emma replied, lifting her glass.
"What are we toasting to?" Regina asked, walking over and standing between the blonde's legs which parted to accomodate for her.
"Us, I suppose. Our future? Doctor Hopper? I mean, I guess we've got a lot to acknowledge," Emma said, reaching out and tucking a strand of Regina's dark hair behind her ear.
"I'll drink to us and our future," Regina replied. "And while Doctor Hopper is instrumental, this work is all us, Emma. It's me and you. No one else. We're responsible for our relationship and I'll do anything I can to rebuild our marriage."
"Me too," Emma said, leaning forwards to kiss Regina softly.
She went to pull away, ready to take that sip to toast their declarations but Regina's hand around the back of her neck kept their lips sealed. Emma melted into the kiss, prying Regina's mouth open with her tongue and tasting the woman for the first time since Tuesday when the pair had separated after a heated kiss in the hallway. She felt Regina's body lean in closer and hooked her ankles around the back of the woman's thighs, anchoring them together.
"Oh God!"
The exclamation of their son forced the kiss to end. Henry glowered at the two of them as they shot him sheepish expressions.
"Right, Henry, put on an apron please and get the flour out of the larder.
"What can I do?" Emma asked, sliding off the counter after Regina stepped out of the way.
"Would you be capable of whipping up a simple tomato sauce for the base?" Regina asked.
"I think I can manage that," Emma nodded. "But first." She leaned over and kissed Regina firmly once more. "Sorry, just wanted to finish that kiss. Also, cheers; to us and our future."
"To us and our future," Regina repeated, clinking the edge of her wine glass on the neck of Emma's beer bottle.
A/N: I know, sickeningly cute. Next chapter will start off NSFW. Cos, you know, it's been a while!