"I don't think I've ever seen you make a grown man cry before," Milah remarked with amusement as soon as Regina's now ex-client ran from the office. When Regina neither laughed with her or bothered to respond to the comment, Milah frowned. "What's wrong?"

Regina sat stiffly in her leather desk chair, eyes down and unfocused and twirling a pen distractedly between her fingers. "It doesn't matter," she finally responded quietly. Milah sighed. "What happened with Emma?" she asked smartly, making Regina start and look directly at her, foggy eyes clearing. "How did you-"

"I'm a lawyer, and I'm your partner. I can read you pretty well, whether you like it or not," Milah bragged before scooting to the edge of her chair and folded her hands together, placing them on the desk in front of her. "So, dish before you explode."

"What right do you assume you have to ask about my life?" Regina snapped, slamming her hand down on the table. Milah started, leaning back into her chair and lifting her eyebrows in reaction. "Oh, Lord, you've had a spat with her," she realized. "What about?"

Milah had this way of letting Regina know she wouldn't be intimidated, and though Regina tried her best not to show it, she liked Milah for it. Well, maybe "liked" was a strong word…she respected her. And thus, she began to open up.

"She overheard our conversation this evening," Regina sighed. "She thinks I'm an 'uppity sleaze ball" lawyer now."

"What on Earth made her decide that all of a sudden?"

"She thought I knew Lloyd was an abuser and was still representing him for the money," Regina stated simply. Milah groaned, leaning back and throwing an arm over her face. "I have the worst fucking timing. I'm sorry, Regina."

Regina shook her head. "Not your fault. I should have taken the call completely out of earshot. Emma doesn't like lawyers very much to begin with. The foster father she had…well, he got himself a lawyer that got him a minimal sentence for what he did to her. So she's scared that I'm one of them. Honestly, I can't blame her. I would kill Lloyd if I knew I could get away with it."

"I know a good lawyer," Milah joked, then sobered up again. "You need to call her, explain what happened."

"She may not want anything to do with me anymore. Emma is….different now. When I knew her, she was so sure of herself. Confident, happy despite everything. She had her moments, I mean, we were teenagers. But who she is now…she's trying to get to know herself again. I think she expected me to be the same so I could help her find who she was." Before saying it out loud, Regina hadn't thought about it. But as the words came flowing from her mouth, she realized they were probably true. Emma had commented on how she'd expected her to still play the saxophone, still be the Cali girl at heart. She'd failed Emma by changing just as much as, but on the opposite scale from, Emma.

"Sounds like talking about it is helping you figure some things out," Milah said, somehow always extremely intuitive. She was smart and she was good at reading people; it's what made her a worthwhile partner.

"But…even if I called her and explained why I-explain what she heard, there's something else I'm not sure how to approach."

"What now?" Milah cried, throwing her arms up. "It's like you opened Pandora's box when it comes to this girl."

"Her son," Regina whispered. "His name is Henry." Shocked silent after the statement, Milah's jaw dropped for a moment before she recovered her wits.

"Oh, shit."

"Exactly."

"I feel like you're literally living a soap opera," Milah sighed. "Call her, clear things up. You have to, at this point. You keep getting answers that create more questions. And now I'm emotionally invested in this. Call her!"

Regina pinched the bridge of her nose. She'd never realized just how similar Milah and Zelena were. "I know I have to. I'm just not sure I can."

Milah slapped her hands on her thighs and then stood, giving one more sentence before she exited the office:

"Well, it wouldn't be like you to not try."

Two days and four unanswered attempts to call Emma later, Regina decided that enough was enough. Emma was ignoring her calls, and Regina was never one to go out of her way for people who wouldn't even answer the goddamn phone.

So that's why she found herself in an immaculate (and unnecessarily expensive) track suit, jogging her way down a winding wooded path near the park by her apartment complex, headphones in and the music on her phone turned up on full volume. Anything to push these thoughts from her head, this nagging anxiety and nausea that had been present ever since she first laid eyes on Emma Swan in her new bar. If she didn't work off the extra energy, she felt she would surely explode from it and have some sort of mental breakdown, and that was something she simply couldn't afford.

"I want you to see California."

"I want to see it too."

"Then we're going to go. I'll get plane tickets, we'll go next summer after graduation. I'll introduce you to Zelena, you'll love her and she'll adore you…I'll take you to Disneyland, my old house, the beach where I used to swim and surf…"

"It still blows my mind that you're a surfer, you know that?"

"I'm not a surfer, not by any means. Took a couple lessons as a child, it was just something I did for fun…"

"You have to show me. You have to teach me."

"Next summer. I promise."

Regina shook her head violently, trying to shake the memory from her head. That promise had never been fulfilled. And it never would. Huffing, she picked up her pace, desperate to stop the thoughts swirling in her brain.

Her music was so loud, she didn't hear the yell of warning before a giant soccer ball connected with her head-hard.

The blow was enough to knock her off her feet, dizzy and seeing spots, before filling up with rage. "What on Earth?!"

She tore the headphones out of her ears, looking around for the culprit of what had just happened to her, and her eyes landed on a small boy running toward her, red in the face and eyes welling up with tears. She'd been jogging past a group of young children playing soccer, and hadn't even noticed. They were all staring guiltily at her now, but only this one boy was approaching her. He looked to be about four or five years old…where was his mother?

"I'm so sorry!" the boy wailed when he reached her, tears streaming freely. "I kicked the ball and it went too high and too far, I didn't mean to!"

Tamping down the rage and the pain, Regina forced a smile at the small boy. "That's quite all right," she said softly. "I should have been paying more attention to where I was going."

"Are you hurt bad?" the boy asked timidly, chewing on his bottom lip. Regina smiled a bit wider, then pulled herself to her feet and brushed off her pants. "I don't think so, I think I will be fine. You have quite a strong kick for someone so small."

The boy grinned crookedly and nodded. "That's what Coach says. Says I'll be good at soccer if I just keep pra-tick-sing."

"Ah, your coach is very correct. Practice makes perfect," Regina said, subtly correcting his mispronunciation. "You should probably get back to your game."

The boy nodded emphatically, mouthing the word practice once more before wiping his sweaty brown hair off his forehead. "Okay," he said. "I-"

"Henry! Henry, get back here!"

Regina started violently at the sound of Emma Swan's voice, sudden and worried. When she glanced up and toward the direction it came from, she saw the blonde running over. "What have I told you about talking to-oh."

Emma had stopped mid-run, taking in the sight before her as she recognized just who it was her son-her son-was talking to.

"Regina," she breathed, now approaching slowly, timidly.

"Emma," Regina returned, steeling her features so as not to allow Emma the knowledge of how shaken she was at her sudden appearance.

"Mama, you know her?" Henry piped up excitedly, his bright brown eyes lighting up. "I hit her with the ball, Mama. It was an accident, I kicked too hard. She's okay though! Who is she?"

Regina was still staring at Emma, taking in her messy ponytail, skin-tight yoga pants and white v-neck tee that was plastered to her skin with sweat. Regina could see the outline of her sports bra through the thin fabric. Ugh, reign it in, Regina.

"We used to be friends a long time ago," Emma was addressing Henry. "Did you apologize to her?"

"Yes, Mama."

"Good boy. Go back to your practice, okay?"

"'Kay!" Henry shouted, retrieving his ball and running back to the group while yelling back over his shoulder, "Bye, Miss Ruhgina!"

"Goodbye," Regina called after him, then turning back to Emma and finishing, "Henry," in an almost accusatory tone. She couldn't help it. She still had questions, so many questions, and Emma had ignored her for two entire days. She was a bit crabby.

Emma's head ducked down in shame or embarrassment, something, before she spoke softly. "I couldn't hide forever, I guess."

"Oh, hiding, were you? Here I thought you were just ignoring me."

"I was," Emma said blatantly, lifting her head back up to meet Regina's icy gaze. "I didn't know how to handle you. The fact that you're a lawyer. The fact that-"

"That you didn't even hear me out? The fact that I obliterated that poor excuse of a man later on that night in my office?"

"What, just because you were mad at me and what I think of you? Don't let me stand in the way of your paycheck, Regina!"

"I threw his casework in his face, Emma Swan, and I told him I would never represent him, nor would any lawyer in my contacts, which happens to be extensive. I do not represent monsters for any amount of money. You would know that, if you had given me two seconds of your time in the past couple of days."

Emma's jaw had gone slack and she was staring at Regina like she'd grown an extra head. "So…I misconstrued everything and made a total ass of myself at dinner for no reason," she said softly, a horrified expression on her face.

"Oh, that's putting it mildly," Regina quipped.

"Hey, you were an ass too," Emma defended. "You said some awful things to me, things that I've heard from others but never dreamed I'd hear from you!"

"Sometimes the truth hurts," Regina snapped.

They stood there, locked silently in a standoff, on that trail amidst the noise of children playing and dogs barking, daring each other with their eyes to continue this argument further. Finally, Emma sighed. "I'm sorry," she said. "Look…I have to go back to my yoga session." She gestured over to where a group of women had contorted their bodies in uniformity, each on a yoga mat in the grass. An instructor was walking around them, adjusting their form and praising them. "I come here every weekend. Henry practices soccer with his team and the coach, and I do yoga not far away from their game." She started to back away, looking like a cornered rabbit.

"Don't let me keep you," Regina dismissed, putting her headphones back in place and nodding curtly at the blonde. The longer she stood there, the more the fire in her gut built to an unbearable fury in her body. She needed to get out of there. She needed to get as far away from Emma as possible, before…

No.

As the blonde's hurt expression turned away from her, as Emma started to walk back to her group, Regina tore the headphones back off and shouted, "Why?!"

Emma spun on her heel, looking back at Regina incredulously. Regina's feet began to move of their own accord, eventually bringing her almost nose-to-nose with the infuriating blonde.

"Why is his name Henry? Why did you name your bar after me? WHY did you contact me, explain things to me, make me feel like there was still some way to save our friendship, what we had, just to throw it all in my face at the first opportunity? What do you want from me, Emma? Tell me! Tell me why you named your son after my father! Tell me what you want from me!"

Heads were starting to turn, but Regina didn't care. It felt like there was an electric current running through her body, bubbling under her skin.

"Do you really think this is the best place to talk about this?" Emma asked in a harsh whisper, her piercing green eyes wide.

"We've met twice. Today makes the third time, and I feel like I'm being yanked on a damn chain! You shouldn't have this much of a hold over me. It's been almost a decade! I should have moved on, I should have forgotten you. I should have let you cast me aside instead of devoting my entire life to finding justice for people like you. You wanted to know why I'm a lawyer? You. You, Emma! I felt so helpless that day, and all the days after! I couldn't sit back anymore when I knew there was a way to help people. I threw away my dreams so that I could somehow make up for being absolutely powerless when the woman I love needed me the most!"

"You did it all for me?" Emma asked softly. Tears were beginning to roll down Emma's face at Regina's emotional outburst of information. Regina hadn't meant to let it all out, right there in the park, but she couldn't hold it in anymore. She couldn't go on like this. Something had to give.

And then, it did. Much to Regina's surprise, Emma stepped closer, bringing her hands hesitantly to Regina's furiously red face. "Haven't you figured it out yet, Queenie?" she whispered. "I was so scared to find you, to talk to you, to reach out…because I've never gotten over you. When I saw you, that day in the bar…I didn't expect the feelings, the attraction, everything I used to feel for you to come flooding back so intensely. It scared the hell out of me. Dinner at your place…I assumed the worst and bolted because I couldn't handle it all. Everything is so different, and yet everything is the same."

It was Regina's turn to be flabbergasted. "You…I…"

"I am sick of walking on eggshells. That's not who I am," Emma went on, her grip on Regina's face tightening slightly. "I came back here, I created my bar and dedicated it to you, wanted to find you…because I have always loved you, Regina. And I want you back in my life, whatever the cost."

Finally, she stepped back. "I really need to get back. And I'm sorry for ignoring your calls. Can I make it up to you?"

Regina, still shaken from Emma's closeness and her words, stuttered, "I-I…how?"

Emma beamed. "Come out with me. Let me take you on a date. It's time we really talked."