A/N: Hey guys! I decided to update faster this time as finals are fast approaching and I won't have time to breathe anymore than I already do! Bear with me this chapter is something that needed to happen and it was actually going to be more of an angsty cliffhanger again but I decided to keep going and give you a little taste of what's to come! That being said, I don't foresee myself posting in the next month because law school sucks and so does my life. Anyways! Here's chapter 9 hope you like it! As always reviews are always welcome!
Chapter 9
A week later Emma can barely recognize herself. As she stares at her reflection under the dim fluorescent lighting in the airplane lavatory, she can't see a trace of who she is anywhere. All she sees now is stiff, heavily hair sprayed hair with too much volume, a beige dress and blazer that she would have never chosen for herself, and a string of pearls that Walsh bought her for their first anniversary. Her eyes are tired and red, the dark circles under her eyes are barely covered by makeup.
She hasn't cried yet. She doesn't know why, she just hasn't been able to. And it's not like she has been able to keep Killian's face out of her mind ever since she last talked to him. She should've cried already, but she hasn't.
One week ago…
She didn't sleep all weekend, she couldn't. Walsh wouldn't hear about her sleeping in the guest bedroom, and he certainly wouldn't leave, so she was forced to lie next to him all night.
Three straight nights. They were in bed together longer than they had been in the past year and a half, and Emma swore she would've felt safer sleeping on the street. She spent all weekend cooped up in the apartment, too numb to feel anything, too numb to want to. Walsh had laid down the law Friday night. Emma was to break it off with Killian, resign to her job, and dedicate her time to working on the campaign to promote his election. If Walsh ended up losing the election, they would file for divorce. However, if he ended up being elected to the senate, they were to move to D.C. and at the end of his term he would grant her divorce.
Six years.
Six years. That's how long she would have to wait if Walsh ended up winning the election. That's how long she would be at his beck and call, under continuous torment, faking a perfect life when on the inside she is wilting, dying, wasting away. While he was sleeping, she thought about leaving but there were men in black suits guarding the door. She was trapped, more than that she was terrified.
Killian kept messaging her all weekend. He told her that he missed her, that he was worried, asked if she was okay, asked why wasn't she answering him, and that he loved her more than he'd ever loved anyone before.
And now Emma had to end it. She had to end it before it even had a chance to grow.
Monday morning came faster than she wanted it to. Her usual commute felt longer than usual, even though she didn't take the subway. One of the two security guards that were guarding the door was hired for her. He drove her to work and he stationed himself outside her office as she started to pack it up. She cannot bring herself to start packing up her personal items. She just stands behind the floor to ceiling window and watches the view she has of Manhattan. A view she probably should've spent more time admiring, because it was truly amazing.
"Emma?" Killian's voice glides into the office, interrupting her thoughts. Emma's heart drops to her stomach. She feels bile run up her throat, the thought of ending this making her physically ill.
"Killian, hi." Emma greets as she turns around to see him. She smiles despite herself, forgetting for a moment what she had to do. He gives her a grin that melts her heart, she feels herself go weak at the knees.
She can't do this.
"How are you feeling? I was worried all weekend when you wouldn't respond to my messages." He asks as he steps towards her and makes to kiss her. She turns her head at the last second, his lips grazing her cheek instead of her lips. Killian knits his eyebrows together and moves to cup her cheek with his right hand. Emma once again turns her head and walks away from him.
She has to do this.
She has to save him, she thinks as she wraps her arms around her chest. "Love, are you alright? What's with all the boxes?" His voice has a confused edge as he looks around the room, noticing the cardboard boxes being filled up with books and miscellaneous office supplies.
"I'm leaving." She says without looking at him. She can't face him and go through with this. She's not strong enough. She's not brave enough.
"You're what?" He moves towards her again but stops when she takes a step back.
"I just handed my two weeks notice." She mutters firmly, busying herself with filling up the boxes she brought.
Make him believe you don't feel anything for him, Walsh had said.
"Love, what the hell are you talking about?" Killian is so confused. He scratches the back of his neck as he takes a step back and rests against her desk.
"Killian, I resigned. I don't work here anymore." She hopes her eyes don't give away her pain. She's trying so hard to be as stoic and as unfazed by this whole ordeal as possible.
"Swan, you adore this job." Killian must have thought that something else was the matter because he stands up and walks over to her. He puts his hand on top of hers, stopping her from packing.
"It's not my job anymore." She tells him forcefully. She tugs her hand from under his and returns packing.
"Did you receive another offer? I don't understand, love." His voice is starting to sound exasperated and Emma can tell he's trying to be as calm as possible with the situation. He doesn't want to rush her. He doesn't want to chase her away.
Part of Emma wants to tell him everything and run away with Killian. She knows he'd do it, she knows he'd drop everything for her. He loves her as much as she loves him, and look at her now doing the same. She's dropping everything to save him.
But then she remembers Walsh's crazed look on Friday and the way he told her that she couldn't tell Killian the truth. That was the caveat. He'd grant her the divorce and he'd keep Killian alive, as long as she followed his every rule. She could not tell Killian that Walsh was threatening her and that Killian's life was on the line.
Break his heart and I'll know that we're on the same page. Do this and I'll let you go. Do this and I won't touch a single hair on his head and you'll be free to be with him if that's what you really want.
"Please don't call me that." Emma tells Killian, not the first time she rejects the pet name, but certainly the first time she doesn't mean it.
"What?" She had said it with such disgust and such force that when she looked up and saw the way Killian was looking at her she knew she would not have any problem holding up her end of the bargain.
"I'm not just leaving this job, I'm leaving Manhattan…I'm leaving you." Emma almost wasn't able to say it, but she did. She's met with silence. Killian is back leaning against her desk, looking at her and mulling over her words.
"Emma, what the hell is going on?" He says quietly, softly, slowly after a few moments.
"Don't you get it? I'm ending it. This thing between us is over." She acts exasperated, making her voice sound annoyed.
"This "thing"? Emma, I love you. You love me. We love each other." He replies incredulously, his eyes wide and staring deeply at hers. His breathing is shallow and he's gone pale. Emma really wants to bury herself alive.
"I love Walsh." She tells him quietly, dejectedly.
"That's bullshit and you know it." He responds, a hint of anger in his tone.
"Killian, listen to me. It's over. I love my husband. I'm staying with my husband." She matcher her tone to his, it's the only way to make him believe that what she's lying about is the truth.
"I don't believe you." He tells her simply.
"Think what you want." Emma snaps and goes across the room to pack the things on her shelves.
"Emma, look at me." He pleads somberly. He has come up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. When she complies and turns around she meets his sad blue eyes. He doesn't say anything, he just stares and searches in her eyes for the truth. He's always been able to tell what she's thinking without asking. "What did he say to you? What is he threatening you with?" He asks quietly, his hand cupping her face tenderly.
"He's not threatening me. We spent this weekend together and it was amazing, it really made me realize how much I love him. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it had to end this way." Emma says unwaveringly after cupping his face with her hands.
"You're lying." He responds, dropping his hand from her face. Emma walks around her desk and sits in her chair. She needs strength. She needs for this to end so she can start forgetting about it immediately.
"I'm not. Killian, please don't make this any harder than it has to be." Emma pleads, running her hands through her hair and breathing deeply through the nose.
"Emma Swan, I know you. I know your ins and your outs and I know how that stubborn head of yours works. I know that you wouldn't be staying with him if he wasn't threatening you with something. You are miserable with him." He kneels in front of her now. It is easily palpable that he's desperate and reaching the end of his rope. He lays his head on her lap and Emma can't bring herself to comfort him. Her arms lie limp at her sides. She has to make him believe that she doesn't love him. She has to break his heart. "Emma, I know you. Please tell me what's going on, we can figure this out, love. I won't lose you too. I can't." His voice wavers at the end and it shatters Emma's heart to a million pieces. She can't do this, she doesn't want to do this, but she has to. Taking a deep breath she places her hands on his head and tenderly lifts it so he would look at her.
"To lose me would imply that you once had me and we both know that I was never yours. Please leave." Her voice was cold and nothing like her own, she couldn't recognize herself even if she tried. Killian stares at her and narrows his eyes. He gives her a curt nod and stands up. Emma follows him to the door so she can close it behind him. He looks at her one last time before he leaves, his eyes empty and void of feeling. She's leaning against the door, unable to close it, unable to let him walk out. They stay there for longer than they anticipated they would, Emma wanting to take everything back and Killian waiting for her to do so. His eyes hover over her outstretched arm that's holding he door open.
His eyes narrow and brazenly lock on Emma's.
"What is he doing to you?" He whispers, entering the room again and closing the door behind him.
"What are you talking about?" She pleads.
"He's hurting you." He contends, blue eyes big and frightened.
"Killian, stop. He has nothing to do with this." Emma shakes her head adamantly, taking a step away from him.
"Yes he does, how else will you explain the hand-shaped bruise on your wrist?" He moves forward and takes her wrist in his hands. Emma winces momentarily as his fingers brush the bruised area.
"That's nothing. Please go, Killian." She says quietly as she takes her wrist out of his grasp.
"Emma, stop lying to me." He tells her seriously, taking her face between his hands. They're inches apart, his eyes looking intently into hers. He's frightened for her.
"Killian, please." Her voice barely comes out as a whisper.
"Swan, please tell me what's going on." His voice matches hers.
"I can't." She tells him, feeling her eyes water.
"Emma, tell me." He repeats, an annoyed edge to his voice.
"I can't!" Her voice matches his now.
"Why not?" He huffs impatiently, crossing his arms across his chest.
"I can't tell you." At Emma's emphasis of the word, Killian catches on almost instantly.
"Write it." He tells her, thrusting his phone into her hands. Emma pulls out a text message and types quickly, finishes, and thrusts the phone back at Killian.
He knows. If I don't end it, he'll kill you. I can't lose you. I need to end it so you can live.
"But I can't live without you." He says his eyes widening incredulously at the message. Emma sighs and takes the phone back from his hands and writes a new message.
It's the only way he'll give me a divorce. If he loses the election I'm a free woman.
"And if he doesn't?" Killian asks even more incredulously than before, eyebrows raised high. Rolling her eyes, Emma takes back the phone.
I'll be free at the end of his term. Six years from now.
"Emma! Six years? That's ridiculous!" He's angry now, doing nothing to hide his exasperation at the whole ordeal. He moves to give Emma back the phone but she swats his hand away.
"It's the only way. I don't want anything to happen to you." She tells him seriously, slightly annoyed at how lightly he's taking the whole Walsh-Knows-And-He'll-Kill-You information.
"Emma, he's not going to kill me. You're overreacting." He tells her rolling his eyes, as if he had just read her mind. Emma yanks back his phone from his hands and types again.
He had us followed. He still has us followed. I saw that he was going to kill you, he has a sniper set out near your house. Killian, it's not a joke. It's real.
"Emma, I love you." He tells her plainly, as if that would solve all their problems.
"I know but it doesn't matter, I need to do this." She dismisses him quickly, not really registering what he said, caring more about preserving his life than the conversation.
"It doesn't matter? Emma, I'm telling you that I love you and you're just going to tell me it doesn't matter?" He looks so hurt. That's not what Emma meant at all.
"That's not what I meant-" She starts but Killian cuts her off.
"No, it's exactly what you meant. Emma I can't recognize the person who's standing in front of me. Emma Swan doesn't give up! Emma Swan doesn't let people bully her! I don't know who you are, but you're not the woman I fell in love with. The woman I fell in love with wouldn't just give up." He's breathing heavily and anger is present behind his blue eyes.
"Killian, please. We can make it work, I just need time." She pleads, walking towards him and trying to hold his hand. He slips his hand out of hers. He won't look at her.
"I can't give you that time, Emma. The woman I love would've fought for me, for us, and you're not fighting. I just can't be with someone like that, it's not worth it." He tells her seriously, still without looking at her. He walks towards the door as Emma dejectedly sits back in her chair. This can't be happening.
"Killian, please. I love you." She whispers at him from the chair. He turns around and meets her eyes again. They're dead, hollow eyes. The usual mischievous glint is not there anymore, it's replaced instead by unfathomable sadness.
"It doesn't matter." He tells her and just like that he walks out of her office and out of her life.
Back in the plane Emma is still locked in the lavatory, staring at this distorted version of herself in the mirror, and unable to rid herself of that last look Killian gave her. She wills a tear to come out, just one, but she is unsuccessful. Taking a deep breath, she runs her hands over the front of her dress before exiting the lavatory and making her way back to her seat in first class. She's sitting a few rows behind Walsh on the opposite side of the aisle. As she walks towards her row, she can see the lights are on over his seat. She hears him whispering to Zelena next to him, who giggles and Emma knows that they're not talking about the campaign at all. Emma rests her head against her seat. She's trying to close her eyes and get some sleep in this redeye flight, but every time she closes her eyes she's greeted by Killian and the look he gave her a week ago. Maybe she just won't sleep tonight, it's not like she has slept this past week either.
It's a little after three in the morning when they arrive at their hotel in DC. Emma and Walsh are sharing a joint double suite, perfect for her to sleep by herself and for Walsh and Emma to come out of the suite the next morning looking like they had no marital problems whatsoever while in reality he slept with Zelena the night before. That is something that he isn't hiding from her anymore, his blatant affair with his campaign manager. It's just another way for Walsh to show Emma that he always gets what he wants, that he certainly doesn't care about her anymore, and that he is determined to make the next year (and possibly six) the worst of her life.
That night after Emma locked the door that separated their suite, raided the minibar, and failed miserably at stifling Zelena's moans coming from the other room, Emma finally broke. She had had shots of every single mini bottle of liquor the fridge carried and had locked herself in the bathroom in tow with all the blankets and pillows that she found in the room. She had then placed all the blankets and pillows inside the massive tub and climbed in with the bottle of red wine she found in the cabinet. Maybe she was drunk, maybe she was masochistic, or maybe she was both but while laying inside the tub in her makeshift bed, locked in a room where she couldn't hear her husband having sex with his campaign manager for the second night in a row, Emma found herself looking through the pictures in her phone and sorting through Killian's messages. She hadn't heard from him in a week, longer than she ever had once he had come back into her life. Even after they slept together for the first time, and she kept her distance, Killian had messaged her every so often. Emma realizes that she missed Killian more than she thinks she has missed anyone before. Over the past few months, Killian had become her home, her go to person. Suddenly, Emma realizes that she had not only lost the love of her life but she had also lost her best friend, leaving her with a deep ache in her chest and an unshakeable feeling of loneliness. The last time she had felt this way was when her first foster family had returned her to orphanage. Looking at the last picture Killian and Emma took together, Emma's breathing starts becoming shallow and her chest constricting tightly around her lungs. Her eyes start prickling and finally tears start flowing freely from them. She cries for what seems like an eternity, long enough that time stands still and she falls asleep soundly for the first time in a week.
It has been six months and Emma feels like she can't handle meeting another foreign diplomat or shaking the hand of yet another Super PAC investor. Emma thinks DC is beautiful and she's been doing everything in her power to take advantage of the city, looking at all the monuments and spending hours at the different museums. She smiles and she waves at Walsh's supporters, she's been invited to dinners in fancier houses than she's ever stepped foot in, but inside Emma feels her soul corroding away.
As she sits on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial looking over to the Washington Monument, Emma wants to run to New York, she wants to jump into Killian's arms, she wants her old job back, and for chrissakes she wants Walsh to stop fucking the campaign manager every single night in the room right next to hers. At least she had the decency to never bring Killian to her apartment, nor did she ever spend the night at his place. It's making her go crazy, accepting this as her fate for the next six years. She says the next six years because every morning the polls come in favoring Walsh over his opponent by a landslide.
Killian was right to leave her, she doesn't know who she is anymore either. She was never one to accept what life handed to her if it didn't make her happy. She was a fighter, she was a survivor. What is she now? She's wasting away standing, smiling, faking a happy marriage next to Walsh while watching him live his life exactly the way he wants at her expense.
But if she leaves, where would she go? Killian surely doesn't want her back. She has not heard from him once these past six months. Granted, she hasn't contacted him either, mostly because every time she decides she's going to call him, her fingers ghost around the call button on her phone but she never goes through with it. She's also too stubborn to ask about him when she talks to Mary Margaret, mostly because she's too scared to hear that he's moved on with his life and isn't one bit as miserable as she is.
Then again, maybe Emma's happy ending lies within her being content with her own company.
No Walsh, no Killian, just Emma.
Maybe what she has to fight for is for her own happiness, and that lies with breaking free from Walsh's grip. But the only way to break free of him was to gain leverage over him, and Emma knew just the thing to do.
She was going to discredit him and give him the option to let her walk out a free woman, or his entire political career was going to go down the drain with a media scandal of his own making. Three months ago Walsh threatened her with hurting the person she cared about most in the world and as she tried to set him free, she still lost him. Tonight was going to be different, Emma decided. Tonight, Emma Swan was going to fight back.
Knowing Walsh's daily routine by memory, Emma sneaks into his room while he was out and strategically places a recording camera she had bought at a spy-inspired store that afternoon in it. She smiled to herself later that night as she heard the synchronized moans of Zelena and Walsh as for the first time they sounded almost like a symphony to her ears.
The next morning Emma looks at the footage and is ecstatic to see that her plan had worked. There in her hands she had enough evidence to make the scandal stick, enough evidence for news stations to have something to talk about for the next couple of news cycles.
Sweet freedom, Emma thinks, I can see you at last.