Hey guys! I can't thank you enough for your wonderful and considerate reviews, especially after I took a hiatus from writing. I always value your praise, ideas, insights, and criticisms.
To SwanQueen101 and others who need reassurance as well: Though this is a story full of back and forth fighting that goes on and on and on for 29 plus chapters, it is and will always be a Swan Queen story. That is always my endgame; it's about how we get there. Hopefully, that will ease any apprehensions you may have.
This chapter is a bit sad, but I hope you read it anyway, knowing that sorrow makes the brighter parts even better. Enjoy :)
The high beams of the little yellow bug flared out on the dark road ahead. Blue had cocked his head for the third time in a row toward Emma. He had occasionally turned to try and put his paws up against the head rest, letting out a tiny howl of sadness as he looked out the back window. The pup moaned every time, and flopped back around, curling into a ball with disappointment that the brunette was no longer in view.
"Sorry, boy," she said apologetically, "but hopefully we'll sort matters out and you'll see her more often." She chuckled as he rested his still short snout on his own paws.
"Hey," she went on, talking to the dog, "first things first—you gotta help me out with help me out with the words here, okay?"
Blue looked up and seemed to be listening. Emma took a deep breath. "Here goes," she said. "Kate, you've always known that this wasn't meant to last. I mean, your twenty-one and I'm—gah—no," she sighed. Blue whimpered a bit and she sighed again.
"Kate, from the moment I met you, I knew this would happen—no, I sound like an asshole," she said. Blue barked a bit. Emma took his forms of communication for what they were worth. "You're right, I am an asshole," she groaned. "Let me try again."
She gripped the wheel tighter, closed her eyes and began again. "Kate, I'm sorry that I was too weak to let you go a long time ago. You were kind to me. You made me live again when I didn't want to," she said with conviction, "I should have been more honest with you—and where do I go from there?
She banged her palms against the wheel, frustrated that the right words weren't coming. But she had a start. And she had two more hours to figure the rest out.
At the sound of the doorbell, she rose to answer. Kathryn was quick to come over—after hearing Regina hold back tears over the phone, she worked herself up into a fury, got dressed, and drove over.
"WHERE IS THAT BLONDE LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT?!" she yelled as she walked right into the house, immediately searching for Emma.
"She's not here, Kathryn," Regina said, holding back a chuckle. "I sent her back to Boston."
"Oh," she said, a bit confused. "Well how bad was the fight? Did you end your little affair?"
Regina began walking into the kitchen and her friend followed. "First off, we didn't actually fight. I wanted to but—," she paused as she reached into the cabinet for tea cups. "—there were other important matters that took precedents."
Kathryn raised an eyebrow as she watched Regina fill the kettle and set it on the stove. "And what about the two of you—is it over?"
Regina stared at the black tea pot as she turned on the burner. She hovered over it as she thought, feeling the warmth slowly rise up, reaching her face. "I don't know," she said. "She definitely was pushing—you know, curious to see if we were still going forward." Regina turned around to face her friend. "I didn't give her an answer."
As she crinkled up the paper for their teabags, Kathryn felt the silence coming from her friend. Regina was too calm, considering all of this. She baited, waiting for the cynical remarks and eye rolls that came naturally for Regina. But instead, she was met with a stoic, unmoving kind of demeanor that riddled her with confusion.
She gently lowered her teabag into her cup. "There's something else, isn't there?"
The heat bottled up in the bug had begun to dissipate, and yet she sat still in the car. All of the words mustered up in her head wouldn't be enough—it was all too little, too late. But further delay wasn't really going to help.
Emma knew all this as she dragged herself up the stairs to the apartment, Blue leisurely wobbling behind. She pressed her curled fingers to her forehead, taking a final moment outside the door as she inhaled the musky scent of the building.
To her surprise, Kate wasn't in the bedroom, per usual by this time of night. Emma found her, waiting on the couch, looking up to her as she walked in.
"Hey," Emma said softly, throwing her bag down and allowing the dog to slip passed her.
"Hi," Kate returned, in a similar whisper.
Emma rubbed the back of her neck. "We need to—"
"Talk?" Kate asked, resting her head on her chin, "I know."
She did know. Emma could feel it in the everlasting paces she took to join the girl on the couch. A good distance remained in between them, enough for Emma to raise her hands several times to express the words that had difficulty making their presence known.
"There's no good way to say this," she began. "I've been trying to think of the best approach for awhile now—only to realize that prolonging it was the worst thing I could do."
Kate nodded for her to continue. Her face remained still, though she was certain of what Emma was trying to say.
"Kate," Emma choked out, resting her palm on her leg, "I'm still in love with Regina. I know that's always been on the table between you and I, but—that's not enough."
The girl took only a moment to herself before responding. "So when did it actually start again—whatever it is that the two of you are—?"
"It's hard to define it, really," Emma said, looking down for a moment. "It's been building ever since I started going there to look after Henry. Nothing 'officially' happened until a few weeks ago—at the wedding."
Kate listened as Emma went on to thoroughly explain and apologize. She was silent as the blonde went on, saying how she never should have allowed herself to get involved with someone given that she was still hung up on Regina. There were many 'I'm sorry' moments along with compliments to her—she was too good a person for Emma and she deserved someone who would only love her.
Emma looked a bit puzzled after her speech, taking in Kate's expression. "You don't seem…surprised…"
"I'm not." Emma still looked a bit off. Kate rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, Em!" she said playfully. "You have to think I'm smarter than that."
"You knew?"
"I highly suspected," she said, almost chuckling. "I mean, that fucking tango at Halloween? The constant fights? The bachelorette party?"
Both of them were surprised that they were laughing through the list. "What really got me was that cookie today—"
"Oh good God!" Emma cried out, slapping her own leg. "I thought you were blind or something when you didn't say anything."
"I was too busy enjoying watching you sweat it out," Kate said with a wink.
They laughed for a moment or two more at Regina's stunt. There was a nervous release in this as Emma realized Kate was incredibly understanding. She always had been, from the start. She smiled, patting down on the blanket that covered her now ex-girlfriend.
"You're really okay with all this?"
Kate's eyes sprung wide open. "You're kidding me, right?—I'm about to go to London, freshly single. I'm the lead singer and guitarist of a punk rock girl band," she said, hitting Emma gently on the knee. "I'm gonna get all sorts of tail."
Emma burst out laughing at the girl's wild expression. It was the first time she'd been able to laugh completely in a few days.
"Ah," she sighed. "You really were always more mature than me in some ways, weren't you?"
"Was that ever really a question?" Kate offered bluntly, only to receive a friendly shove from the blonde. "What? It's not rocket science."
Both relaxed, their minds returning to the truth of Emma's situation. "Seriously though, Em," Kate let out, "I care about you and I want you to be happy. Your happiness is with Regina…"
Emma glanced up at her, trying to hide her sorrow behind an uneasy smile.
"…you just have to stop fucking each other over."
The blonde heaved out a breath. "I know. I just don't know what our relationship will be now." She turned away briefly to gather herself before shifting the focus.
"…And just so you know, I'm happy for you going to London," she added. "You're gonna have a blast."
Kate smiled. "Damn right I will." Another laugh came out before Kate raised her mug of cocoa from the table.
"I propose a toast—cheers to not wasting anymore time," she suggested, clinking her mug to Emma's invisible one. "We'll both find what we need."
Emma slowly nodded, as the corners of her lips turned up, forming a genuine smile. "I can get behind that."
Kathryn sat on the couch, sipping her tea and shaking her head as she watched Regina type away on her phone. She waited until she saw the brunette was re-reading what she had written before interjecting.
"I don't understand why you're doing this, Regina."
She didn't lift her gaze from the screen. "You know very well why I'm doing this."
"Actually, I don't," she said as she repositioned herself to a more comfortable position. "You really want to wage a text war with her—all for delusion's sake?"
Her glasses sat on the brim of her nose as she mouthed the words she'd typed. "Precisely."
"I don't understand why you can't just tell her the truth," Kathryn spat out. "Instead you aim to get mad at her over something you don't even care about."
Regina pursed her lips. She removed her glasses slowly and looked over to her friend. "I'd rather be a bitch then be a pity party."
The delicate tea cup rattled against the saucer as Kathryn set it down fecklessly, not caring if it shattered into tiny shards or spilled its contents on the rug. Her frustration took hold as she flashed a momentary smirk in disbelief.
"No, Regina," she said sternly, "you're not being a bitch—you're actually letting fear make you selfish. And as much as I know you hate exposing weakness, it's not just about that."
Regina tried to turn her eyes away, averting the windows from Kathryn's sight. But it was no use. Her friend had already seen the glimmer. She'd seen behind the charade enough times to know all of her tricks and gimmicks.
"You're afraid that she actually does love you—"
"She doesn't!"
The air in the room hung heavy between them after Regina shouted her assertion. Unmoving, it remained viscid with the change brought about—not only by a confession to Kathryn, but also in its epiphanic nature. Regina's jaw remained opened, tears welting up behind her eyes, as she heard herself admit the true fear she'd harbored from day one.
"She can't." It rang out of her mouth more like a plea or a last-stitched hope—a strong desire for her to spare Emma of the impending pain from the trouble ahead. Trouble that only Regina knew of.
"S-she won't," she stuttered out quickly, hoping the correction would preserve the flakes of the protective mask she'd been wearing. Try as she may, they both knew that mirage was long gone.
"Sweetheart," Kathryn soothed as she reached an arm out. But Regina knocked it away.
"No pity, remember?" She inhaled deeply, clearing her sinuses.
After fairly amicable goodbyes, Kate had packed up a few things and headed to her friend's for the night. Emma told her she didn't have to, insisting that all of it could wait until morning. Kate only answered her with a knowing smile to assure Emma that'd she'd be fine. After all, the time for lies had passed—even if those mistruths were extended pleasantries empty of sincerity. The young girl hugged Emma and told her that everything would be alright.
The older blonde sat still on the couch for an unnoticed amount of time after the door had gently shut. Her thoughts shifted back to where they had always truly belonged—with Regina. Emma, though idiotic in countless ways, was no fool. She knew it wouldn't be a quick fix to regain the brunette's trust. Simply telling her she'd broken up with Kate wouldn't be enough.
She contorted her body as she dug into her pocket for her phone. Emma wasn't quite sure what would do, but she began typing nonetheless.
She had to try.
Crumpled up tissues sat piled in the corner of the coffee table nearest to Regina. It felt as though she'd been talking with Kathryn for hours, mulling over the doleful dribbling details surrounding her impending future—or as she saw it, lack thereof. Her friend held her hand as she eventually let down her mask, and allowed her to let everything go.
Kathryn had been successful in distracting her from her phone, as it lay on the table, next to the mountain of snot rags. The pregnant blonde let out a sigh of relief, resting her other hand on her small bump. No message had been sent thus far. If she could keep Regina's grimy little fingers away from her own phone for just a little longer—just until she grew tired and inevitably passed out, Kathryn thought that perhaps she'd be able to hide the device to prevent a texting chaos outbreak on the following day.
Just then, the screen lit up.
Regina sniffled. "Hand me my phone?"
Kathryn groaned as she picked it up, seeing the message was of course from Emma. I can never have a break, can I? —she cursed silently.
"Sweetie," she paused, reluctant to give her friend the phone, "do you really think you should look at it now? Maybe tomorrow, after you've had time—"
"Kathryn," Regina cut her off, her voice stern once more, absent of the soft sorrow of moments prior. She extended her hand. "I want to know what she has to say."
Regina opened the message instantly upon taking grip of her phone. She wiped her eyes free of tears and scanned over the words of the rather lengthy text.
Regina, I understand why you're angry. I've let you down so many times. I've repeatedly broken your trust on this and given you no reason to believe that I won't do it again. I don't know how I can convince you, but I know I need to…I need you to believe that something's different. Without that, I'm lost for what to do...
New tearsformed in Regina's eyes. They were fueled by a whirlwind of emotions she had yet to fully grasp. She began to type a response, but was cut off when she received another message from Emma.
I know that I'm not great at giving you what you need. I know I left you in the dark for awhile. And most of all, I know it will never be the same, and you're afraid to give this a shot, especially now. But it's okay to be afraid…because I am too. But I'm promising you that I'll use my fear to get us to that bench.
She whimpered out a cry. On top of being taken by her frustration with the blonde, Regina was entirely eviscerated by the anger she held against herself. This entire message would make sense if she was the one typing away to Emma.
The phone pinged again with another message.
Gah…I'm rambling now. Let me try to give you what I think you need. Maybe more time? Maybe a month and a half? Two? Hell, Regina, I'd do anything you need. Just don't tell me that it's too late. Please.
"What did she say, Regina?"
Haggard by her raging anguish, Regina ignored her friend. She let the phone fall to her lap. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to let it linger—let Emma sweat it out a bit over night, and then reply to her in the morning, suggesting that perhaps they have a phone call in a month's time—knowing the whole while that she herself would be ready to be with the blonde in a few days. It was what they did. They enjoyed it—this unspoken back and forth affair was much like riding a horse. The up and down against the saddle mimicked their wavering between vindictive passion and curt stoicism. Acquittals of one another's trespasses were short lived and incomplete. The ability to hold a shred of grievance against the other's misdoings was akin to holding an ace in the pocket—all for the sake of maintaining the only certainty they'd ever had within their relationship. Only being sure of this cycle as a secure pattern of communication between them, both Emma and Regina consciously perpetuated what was comfortable. To step outside these lines could mean pulling the reigns—something neither of them selfishly wished to do.
"Regina?"
Until now. Regina took the phone again from her lap. Her fingers began typing against her own desire. Trembling, it was as if the voice inside her head pleaded against the action. But despite what she needed, and wanted, she did what she believed was best.
"Regina?!"
But she wasn't able to complete the message before Kathryn tackled her.
"Kathryn! What the hell?!"
"You…are…not—," the blonde struggled to say, as she fought to hold her friend down, "—going to send her some stupid message that will only make matters worse! You'll…regret it."
"Kathryn, get off of me!"
"No," the blonde squealed. "Not until you give me that phone!"
Upon saying the last word with excitement, as she'd managed to pry the device away from Regina, she flew upward and away from the brunette in order to make a display of reading the messages.
Regina huffed, resigning herself to the fact that she'd lost the wrestling match. She fixed her hair, tucking mussed strands back behind her ear. Her gaze lowered in mild embarrassment as her friend read through what Emma had sent.
Her friend stared at her, eyes unable to conceal the pity that she'd promised not to offer. The stare burned, as Regina eventually met the gaze. As their eyes met, both women needn't acknowledge the shared emotion. They were painfully aware of the bittersweet truth, as it was unfolding right before them.
Kathryn finally spoke.
"You can't say that to her."
Regina knew full well that her friend was speaking of the response she'd typed to Emma. The one that she was sure got sent by accident during their tussle.
"It's too late," she said, not looking up. "It's been sent."
Her friend shook her head. "No, actually—," her gaze averted. Regina instantly grabbed her phone to see what had been sent.
"I'm sorry," Kathryn added, "I just couldn't let you say that to her."
She had meant to tell Emma that no amount of time would fix this problem and that everything between them, once and for all, was going to come to an end. When she'd typed the ambiguous words, she'd done it intentionally—the words weren't untrue, but the message was cryptic enough to be mistakenly taken to have been birthed from bitterness rather than mournful of a nonexistent hope.
Regina's eyes narrowed as she read the altered message. Somehow, Kathryn had managed to delete all but one word before hitting send. 'Time'.
The night alone was an unnaturally lengthy epoch of its own. Emma wasn't a stranger to this feeling. On the seldom occasions of sleepless nights, she enjoyed the reprieve it offered from daytime thinking—allowing her thoughts to meander about. She recalled many times she'd shared nights like these with another. She'd had drunken debates with Neal, philosophical musings with Kate, and every so often, a chit-chat with her father. But tonight, when Emma found herself unwilling to climb under her sheets to give into needed rest, she craved sharing this loss of hours in the form of a walk with Regina.
Hints of morning's first light fought against an opaque winter sky. With dawn approaching, it seemed as though snow would soon follow. Emma looked over from her perch at the windowsill, back toward the tussled sheets. Despite several attempts to crawl into a cocoon, she knew she wasn't ready for sleep. Upon seeing the one word response from Regina, Emma resigned herself to unrelenting consciousness.
As predicted, white flakes had indeed begun to fall by the time she'd redressed and found herself at the harbor. Merging with the snow that had fallen days prior, the boardwalk was devoid of any color—only hues of gray stretched out to the water. Her phone had vibrated during her trek out to the ocean. Her temporary delight was only dampened when she saw it was not the brunette, but Neal instead. She ignored his texts and repeated phone calls, not wanting to waste the energy she didn't have. Instead, Emma buried her hands further in the pockets of her pea coat, as she walked absently down the dock.
Emma wasn't sure how much time had passed when she'd heard it. She just knew that she'd been sitting on a bench, a decent amount of powder formed on her black coat, when she heard the laughter.
"I figured you'd be down here."
She wiped her head around to follow the sound. Neal stood about ten feet away. Her vision of him was skewed by the galls of the flurry, but she could see he was carrying two cups of coffee.
"How'd you know?"
He came to sit, noticing that Emma had scooted over for him. "Only you would be this crazy to come down here in a blizzard."
She let out a smirk briefly, as he handed over her cup. "Yet you knew I'd be here."
"Well, when I heard what happened—," Neal said, treading lightly, "—at least what I got from Kate and Belle—and from you. Not answering your texts and all—". Another half-hearted grin passed through her lips. "Yeah, I put two and two together."
Emma sipped her coffee and nodded. "Yup."
The weak affirmative syllable answered the obvious statement before it could be made—Emma fucked up again.
"Yeah," Neal said, scratching the back of his head, "I heard that you, Kate and Regina had a surprise rendezvous at Granny's?"
"Yup."
"Yeeessh," he let out, eyes widening with the sentiment. "Can't imagine that went over well."
"Nope."
"And you and Kate broke up..?" he offered, saying the words for Emma. "…Last night?"
"Yep."
"So, where does that leave you with…Regina?"
Neal turned to look at Emma directly, hoping it would encourage her to answer with more than one word. But as soon as he saw her blank stare, he knew she was too numb to do so. He flashed a sympathetic smile before turning his own gaze toward the gray waters.
Moments later, he heard the slightest crack in her voice. "Hen-ry—," she started. "I wanted to spend Christmas with him this year, but—I…I think I'm—gonna be alone again."
Neal wrapped an arm around her shoulder, though, she didn't lean closer. Still, she appreciated the gesture.
"Em, my dad and Belle are coming up for the holiday," he said. "You'll spend it with us, okay?"
Emma nodded weakly, as much as her emotional state would allow. Neal had suggested they go get warm—maybe grab a bite to eat. He tugged her arm at the mention, but felt resistance. She quietly requested a few more minutes. She just needed a little more time.