Regina spent hours looking over the pictures that were still taped to her vanity mirror and bringing with it were the dozens upon dozens of memories from a time in her life she had long since moved on from. The polaroid's, most of them taken in high school, showed a very different person than the woman she ended up becoming, and she no longer recognized that part of herself anymore.

Her eyes landed on the sole picture she had on the vanity mirror of her and Emma, taken shortly after Emma had given birth to her son a year after she'd first arrived in Storybrooke. The picture was taken on a day that Regina remembered so clearly as she pulled it off the mirror with a shaky hand. They had been at the stables that day where they had spent the afternoon riding the horses, the first time away from the baby since he'd been born. Emma had surprised her that day with a picnic basket filled with her favorite foods. It was a good memory and one she hadn't thought about in a very long, long while.

That one picture though, it was taken in a place that had been her and her father's special sacred place for many years and it had been the first time she'd taken Emma there, sharing with her that small field that always left her feeling as if she'd stepped into a whole other world.

Regina stuck the picture back onto the mirror in its original place, the tape still sticky after all those years, and she looked over at the others that were there, pictures of her with her life-long best friend Kathryn Midas and some of their other friends. Gods, they'd been so young, so clueless, so ready for the world and not at the same time. It was hard to think back to that time in her life, a time before Emma was in it, and remember whether or not she'd ever felt true happiness before then.

There were more pictures, but they weren't taped to her vanity mirror anymore. They'd been placed in a photo album when she first moved into that house on First Street with Emma Swan. There were others, too, pictures that she'd purposely had left behind, pictures of her and Emma together that were only meant for them. Those pictures sat in a sealed envelope, hidden in her desk drawer under the false bottom and random junk where she had kept many of her secrets tucked away.

Inside that drawer was her old journal, another thing she had purposely left behind that morning she drove out of that town and never looked back. Like the pictures, she'd left the journal behind, not wanting to bring it along with her as she tried to start over and live a whole new life. Regina walked over to the desk that sat in front of the large bay window and she pulled open that bottom drawer, sifting through the junk inside until she felt the ribbon that lifted the false bottom up. There, inside the small space that had kept its job hiding away her secrets, she found that large sealed manila envelope and her journal sitting there, right where she had left them.

She wasn't ready to open that envelope and revisit those memories yet and instead she picked up the leather journal and opened it, the spine creaking and cracking after years of sitting left untouched. The pages fluttered lightly as she flipped through them and she stopped on the last entry, written on the night before she moved in with Emma. She couldn't read the words she'd written through the tears in her eyes and she flipped back to the first entry from when she's started that particular journal at the beginning of her senior year in high school.

The first dozen entries were standard of her life back then, mostly written about the start of her senior year and her boring, vanilla life she lived at the time. It was laughable at how innocent she had been in the year leading up to meeting Emma Swan for the very first time, tagging along with Kathryn and her long-time boyfriend Frederick, always the third wheel. She skimmed over some entries that detailed certain days, small moments and snapshots of a life once lived, and stopped on one she had nearly forgotten about to that very day.

Daddy was acting strange this morning, but he told me today that he almost wished he had left Mother that one night, years ago, when I was only thirteen. I remember that night. I remember that car ride that I took with him after that fight he had with Mother, insisting I go because I was so afraid he would leave us and never come home. Not that I could blame him, then or now. Mother is and always has been just as she always will be, a stone-cold bitch.

He took me to our spot today while we took the horses for a ride on the trails. As always, Daddy packed a bag full of snacks and other little treats. I'm still so surprised that the fishing rod he made for me many summers ago was still hidden safely in that hollow little crack inside the old willow tree. I cannot remember the last time we went there together or the last time we went fishing, but it felt like old times, but different.

He said it was because I am older now that I'd understand things differently. Better, maybe. I think he's right. I do understand things differently now that I am nearly eighteen. I still wonder as I write this if he should've left that day. I don't understand why he stayed. Love is strange that way, I suppose, but then again, I have never been in love. Not yet. So maybe I don't really understand that much better yet, but I am trying to, I am.

Would it have been better, not just for them, but for all of us, if Daddy had left that night? I don't know the answer to that, though I wish I did. I just want him to be happy as he deserves to be. Shouldn't everyone deserve their happiness even if it makes them miserable, too? I wish I knew…

Regina sighed and closed the journal slowly, remembering how at that time in her life her parents had struggled in their marriage and tried so very hard to work things out. Things had changed though, after that day, and she still didn't know what it was that sparked those changes but her father had come home with a lighter heart it seemed and kissed his wife hello in a way he hadn't done in a very long time. It wasn't long after that day when her parents started going out on dates again and it happened so regularly that it was almost as if everyone had forgotten that they hadn't been in love for many years, not really.

All those years of the petty arguments, the endless eye rolls, and sarcastic comments, all those slammed doors and nights Regina found her father sleeping on the couch in the den, they just seemed to stop, to fade away until they too just became another memory that was best left forgotten.

A folded piece of paper fell from where it'd been tucked into the back of the journal and she picked the letter up she had received upon her first acceptance to Boston University School of Law. It had been taped where it ripped after her mother had found her in the foyer that afternoon and had all but snatched the letter out of her hands. Holding it now made it feel like a lifetime ago. Two, even.

Regina folded the letter and tucked it back in its spot before she returned the journal to its resting place in her hiding spot. Her acceptance letter had come late in the winter, much later than the rest of her classmates. It had been a full academic scholarship all thanks in part to her mother's strict enforcement of not accepting anything other than straight A's all throughout her life.

She stared down at the journal for a short moment before she pushed the false bottom back into place and shut the drawer. The burden of guilt that was mixing with her grief was growing heavier. Suffocating.

She ached for that liquid release, thirsted for just a drop of the one thing that had helped her forget it all. She longed for the numbness and the blank state of mind, the relief that it brought. It was overwhelming, more than it had ever been since the start of her recovery, and with the host of other emotions consuming her, she had never felt so hopeless, so weak.

She turned her focus to unzipping her suitcase on top of her twin-sized bed and pulled out the neatly folded clothes one by one. She had packed for two days, three at the very most, but it already felt as if she'd been there too long and she hesitated, placing her pajama bottoms back in the suitcase for a moment before she took them back out. She had to stay, she had to keep reminding herself why she had to stay and she had to do it for her father, if not for any other reason.

The knock on the door startled her and she looked up over at her sister as she strolled in. Regina glanced at the nearly full glass of wine she carried in one hand and ignored the smile that danced over her lips as took a seat at the foot of the bed.

"What do you want, Zelena?" Regina asked tiredly. She wasn't in the mood nor the right frame of mind to deal with anyone at the moment.

"Come, have a glass of wine with me," Zelena said lightly. "Mother and Robyn have gone to bed. Come on, Regina, it has been far too long!"

"Or not long enough."

Zelena laughed as she stood up, watching Regina for a moment as she put away her clothes in the dresser and then the closet. "One glass, Regina," she said insistently.

"No," Regina said. "I don't drink anymore, Zelena."

"Oh, right," she said, a knowing look falling upon her face for a second. "Daddy mentioned that you are sober now. How is that going for you?"

"Quite well actually," Regina lied. Lying was easy. It'd always been easy. "I'm getting ready for bed, Zelena, so if you would please just-"

"One glass," Zelena repeated. "I won't say a word."

"No."

"Why not?" Zelena urged on. "It'll be like we are teenagers again sneaking downstairs-"

"We never did any those things." Regina rolled her eyes. "What are you even talking about? I barely saw you after Mother started shipping you off to boarding school in England every year."

"Fine, have it your way, but when was the last time you ever had any of Daddy's cider, hmm?" Zelena asked. "I happen to know for a fact there is just plain old apple cider in the fridge, the one he made when we were children, remember?" Zelena reached out for Regina's arm gently and offered her a small smile. "If it bothers you," she said as she indicated at her glass, "I'll save this for later and join you in having some good old-fashioned cider. Come, please?"

Regina looked at her wearily. They had never been close, not even when they were children. They had spent most of their lives, thanks to her mother, as perfect strangers at best. She hadn't learned that Zelena was only her half-sister until their mother told her of her a whirlwind relationship she'd had with a man in England, Zelena's real father, and that hadn't been until Regina was nineteen and she'd overheard an argument between her mother and sister by complete accident one day. The memories she had of her sister growing up weren't pleasant either. The five-year age gap between them had led to Zelena simply torturing her endlessly, as wickedly evil half-sister's do.

Her father, Henry, he had loved Zelena as if she were his own and Zelena had loved him so dearly, more so than her own father she barely knew at all. To Zelena, Henry was her real father as he had raised her and loved her as any father would. Regina hadn't understood how he could until she met Emma's son just moments after he was born. She had loved that boy just as if she were her own even though he wasn't hers at all really.

Regina followed Zelena through the dimly lit house and down to the kitchen. Zelena turned on the light over the stove while Regina grabbed the bottle of apple cider out of the refrigerator. She hadn't failed to notice that Zelena had drunk most of the wine in her glass on the way down to the kitchen, but she chose not to say anything as she placed the bottle on top of the counter.

The little Yorkie ran in and the stupid little dog tried to bite Regina as soon as she saw her. Zelena was quick to scoop the dog up, shushing her to be quiet as she growled at Regina. "Now, now, Snow, you be nice to your Auntie Regina," she whispered as if the little dog could understand her. "I don't know why you two just can't get along," she said to Regina. "She is usually so sweet with everyone."

"She was never sweet with me, Zelena. I still have a scar on my ankle that proves otherwise," she said tightly. "Just keep that dog away from me."

"You met her only once before," Zelena said and she scolded the little dog as it began to growl again. "You are a stranger to her. If you'd just-" Zelena yelped in surprise as the dog bit her finger. "She was only a puppy then, Regina. She didn't know any better. You can't blame her for that." Zelena paused to fix the ugly red bow tied to the tuff of hair on top of the dog's head. "I'll put her to bed. I'll be right back."

Regina rolled her eyes as Zelena walked out of the kitchen with the dog in her arms. Why on earth had she entertained the idea of even talking to her sister at all? It wasn't something they did, especially not voluntarily. Regina grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard and poured them each a glass of cider. Zelena returned a few minutes later, sighing heavily as she picked up her glass and took a sip.

Zelena sat down at the table and Regina stayed by the counter for a moment before she joined her. It was quiet in the house and all Regina could hear was the soft hum of the refrigerator running. She hadn't noticed it before, but her father's reading glasses were sitting in the tray on the middle of the small table, right where he would always leave them in the morning after breakfast. The drink she held in her hand wasn't strong enough as wave after wave of emotion just hit her hard.

"He was more of a father to me than mine ever was," Zelena whispered. "You do know that, don't you, Regina?"

"Of course I do."

Zelena took a sip of her drink and sat back in her chair. "You've changed," she said after a moment. "And not entirely in a good way either."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm merely being honest with you, Regina," Zelena said with a small shrug. "I know how foreign of a concept that is for you, us being honest with each other, especially yourself. I didn't know you had it in you."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know exactly what I am talking about right now, sis." She laughed lightly as she pointed at her and continued, saying one name Regina never thought she'd heard pass her lips, "Emma Swan."

The way that her sister said Emma's name, she knew. Regina swallowed hard, realizing with the way that Zelena was grinning at her that it was pointless to deny anything at all anymore. How Zelena even knew anything at all wasn't all she thought of as she entertained the notion of staying there for that particular conversation. As much as she didn't want to have that conversation, it was the way that Zelena just kept looking at her, as if she knew everything that made her stay.

"You know what?" Zelena asked as she leaned forward. "You are such an idiot, Regina."

The statement caught Regina completely off-guard. She blinked as she stared at her sister. "Excuse me?" she asked. "I'm what?"

"You heard me," Zelena snapped at her. "You are a bloody idiot, Regina Mills. You left her. You walked out on her and her son."

Regina didn't say a word, not her usual sarcastic retort, nothing. As much as she hated to admit it, Zelena was right. She was an idiot. Her emotions thundered through her relentlessly and the lump that had been there since earlier continued to rise higher and tighter in her throat. Zelena was absolutely right. She was an idiot for walking out on Emma and Henry. She was a cowardly idiot because she had walked out and never even looked back.

"You're right. That makes me an idiot," she said quietly. "You are absolutely right, Zelena."

"Why come back now?" Zelena questioned. "Just to bury Daddy?"

"That is exactly why I came back. I will be gone tomorrow after the funeral."

"Of course. You have your own little life to run back to now, don't you?"

"I came down for one glass," she stated before she finished the cider quickly. "I am done and so is this conversation. I did not agree to this, Zelena."

"To what?" Zelena quipped and she reached over to grab ahold of Regina's wrist to keep her from walking away from the table. "You don't want to hear your older sister give you grief about not only walking out on Emma Swan and her son but your own family as well?" Zelena shook her head and released Regina's wrist. "You know, Daddy always kept up well informed about you, about your life, the things you were doing and where you were. Bloody hell, Regina, you haven't even bothered to call anyone for years, Regina. Are you really that bloody fucking selfish?"

"I sent Robyn a card last year, just as I have every year on her birthday. Did she not get it?"

"Yes, she got it."

Regina walked over to the sink and sighed as she rinsed out the glass. "Zelena, when I left, I never meant to walk out on the family, too. Things are the way that they are now because after I left," she said and she paused for a moment before turning to look back at her sister, "I came to realize something about my life. Something that made me change it."

"Mother and her meddling."

"Yes. Exactly."

"Why do you think I am so bloody pissed off at you?" Zelena said, her voice rising slightly in anger and she struggled to stay quiet. "I hate that you took off because that sent Mother off on me. Me! You know very well how much I hate it when Mother meddles in my life. It's why I was always so grateful she was like that only with you before. The second you are gone? All hell breaks loose!"

"You know, it's moments like this that remind me that I almost miss you sometimes, Zelena," Regina laughed as the mood and the tension suddenly shifted between them. "Almost."

"What have you really been up to, Regina?" Zelena asked. "Tell me. I want to know."

"I've been busy."

"Doing what?" Zelena asked and she scoffed when Regina didn't respond. "Now I get what Emma meant when she says you slam your walls right up. I get it. It really is obvious."

"When the hell did you talk to Emma? Why are you even talking to her?"

"Oh, dear sister, you have no idea, do you?" Zelena chuckled. "Stay, have another glass, because it is time for a little story."

"I am in no mood for your stories, Zelena. We have to be up and at the church before—"

"Oh, but how could you know anything when you never asked? Daddy said you never asked about us, not once. Emma and I are friends and not just because our children are friends. We talk. We get together with the other ladies and go to the Rabbit Hole for a girl's night out every week. We go on camping trips in the summer because that is what our children want to do on their summer vacation. We spend birthdays and every holiday together because, well, you remember why."

It was those last few words that kept Regina from walking out of there.

"Zelena-"

"You became her family and that means we became her family, too. You have no idea what you walked out on. No idea," Zelena finished. "You idiot."

"You have no right to-"

"To what? To call you an idiot, and believe me, you deserve to be called much worse. You're a coward too, aren't you? You walked away from everyone that mattered in your life, Regina. You walked away from your family, yours, a family of your own and because of what? A little fight?" Zelena scoffed but she wasn't done yet. "Are you that damn selfish and stubborn to just admit it, even now, that the biggest mistake you've ever made is walking out on your family?"

Yes.

"I am calling you out, dear little sister, I am calling you out for being an idiot and a pussy. A coward."

"What are we, children again, Zelena?" Regina jabbed with a roll of her eyes. "Resorting to name calling now, hmm? I see not much has changed over the years." She paused as Zelena merely cackled but not because she found it funny. "I'd appreciate it if you do not talk about things that you do not understand."

"You spent years lying about everything to everyone. Did you get tired of it? Of the denial that you constantly lived in? I have some news for you, little sis, Mother always knew about you and Emma, she just chose not to comment on it. Daddy knew too, though how much he did know, I'm not certain," Zelena said and she took a rather large sip of her cider before she placed it down on the table in front of it. "He was never a man of many words, was he?"

"No. He wasn't."

"I asked you a question," Zelena said sharply. "Did you grow tired of—"

"Stop, just stop, Zelena," she sighed. "I regret everything that happened that night, more so of what happened the very next day. I regret the rest of it too, the lying and the denial as you said. I can't take any of it back or change what happened. Is that what you want to hear? Because you are sorely mistaken if you expect me to apologize for any of it."

"She told me everything. Everything." Zelena deadpanned. "It wasn't for a while, but then again, Henry and Robyn weren't friends until about a year after you left when they ended up in the same class. But, the point I am trying to make here is that you broke her damn heart, Regina."

"I know."

The mood shifted between them again. The back and forth was tiring her out, mentally and emotionally. She didn't really have the strength to deal with this at all, not here, not now. She idly ran her fingers along the glass she was still holding and put it down, shutting off the tap as she fought back her tears. Tears that came with just remembering that heartbroken look on Emma's face when she left that night, the same one she had spent many years chasing away with a bottle and a handful of pills on occasion.

"Things would've been different if you had stayed," Zelena said quietly and the bite that had been in her voice before was gone completely. "Everything changed. Mother changed, too."

"Good for her. She's still a bitch. Still just more of the same, if you ask me."

"Do you know what really kills me?" Zelena asked with that bite back in her voice in a beat. "Emma is such a huge part of our lives now, more so since you've been gone, and the only thing that is missing is you being here in with, living through it with all of us. Especially with her. I know you loved her. I think you still do."

The words were quite staggering as she was left in a state of shock and growing numb from hearing the words she never thought she would hear coming from her sister. It felt much like it had during that last conversation with her father in Boston a handful of nights ago. It felt surreal. Peculiar. Strange.

Her father had never mentioned Emma Swan, not once, but she knew why. She had asked him not to talk about anyone and he had done as she wished, never once mentioning anyone to her ever whenever they saw one another or spoke on the phone. Would it have been different had she known that Emma was still very much a part of their lives, that she was still a part of the family? For all she knew, Emma had moved on with her life, just as she had.

"Mother simply adores her, you know?" Zelena continued after a long moment of silence hung between them. "Henry, too, even when he's being a little shit. The point is, Regina, you idiot-"

"Again, with the name-calling," she sighed. "We are not children anymore, Zelena. You can't speak to me like that."

"Are you done?" Zelena quipped and she scoffed, giving Regina a pointed look. "Things were different after you left, but it should've been because you stayed. There," she sighed out in an overly dramatic way that grated on Regina's nerves. "That is why you're an idiot."

"I agree," a small voice said from behind Regina and she turned to find her niece lingering in the doorway. "You're an idiot for letting her go."

"Who asked you?" Regina asked, chuckling lightly as she looked at her now grown-up niece. "Hello, Robyn."

"Thanks for the hundred bucks you sent with the birthday card. Got me and Henry to Boston-"

"Where they were then promptly picked up and nearly arrested for trying to sneak into a bar with a couple of fake ID's," Zelena added and she sighed heavily. "And it wasn't the first time that I had gotten a phone call like that in the middle of the night because of those two. Hasn't been the last either, I'm sure."

"What? I just turned sixteen, Ma. Henry said it was my rite of passage to go to a gay bar for the first time. We weren't going to drink or anything. I swear and besides, it was all-ages night, they weren't even serving alcohol! All I wanted was to finally have my first kiss. My first kiss with a girl, I mean."

"It wasn't all-ages, it was over eighteen, what is your point, dear?" Zelena asked and she turned to Regina, her eyes wide as she pointed a finger at her. "Do you know what the point is, Regina? I'm sure this one will sound familiar to you, or maybe it won't, but my own daughter did not want to live a life of denial like her dear Auntie Regina once did and she chose to embrace who she is and live as she should, as herself. Why, when she was twelve-"

"Ma!" Robyn groaned, clearly annoyed. "Isn't that supposed to be my story to tell? Jesus, you are way worse than Grandma!"

"Robyn has a very lovely girlfriend now, Regina. You'll meet Alice tomorrow at the funeral."

"Ma!" Robyn sighed. "For the millionth time, her name is Ali. She goes by Ali, okay? God, you know that! How much have you had to drink tonight, huh? Seriously."

Though she found herself quite amused at the scene playing out, it brought back that heavy and sickening feeling of guilt. She realized just how much she didn't know about her family anymore and she hated that even knowing it was her fault and solely hers alone. It hurt. A lot. It hurt to hear her sister talk about Emma Swan the most. What else had she missed? Everything.

It was too late to fix the mistakes she'd made, too late to change the past. Ten years was a long time. Life was different now for everyone. It was just too late.

Wasn't it?

Things would've been different if you had stayed, were the words that kept repeating in her mind as she tried to fall asleep a little later that night. How true was that statement? Regina truly didn't know since Zelena hadn't divulged much information and she hadn't bothered to stay and ask either. Deep down she knew she was afraid of the truth and that's why she hadn't stayed in the kitchen, that's why she hadn't asked any questions. She had no idea what the truth could be, at least she hadn't until Zelena had said the words that made her think otherwise.

Things were different after you left, but it should've been because you stayed.