A/N: Second update for today, which I hope you all enjoy just as much as what's to come. Of course you all know, that the next chapter will be a tough one to read through, especially since I intend in writing it in Regina's POV. But that won't come until tomorrow. Until then, stay tuned! :) Happy weekend!
Chapter 10: Regina
Sleep didn't come easy to me that night. Then again, I hadn't known the glories of a good night's sleep since the day I had said 'I do.' A lot of things kept me up at night, so much that sleep had become a stranger to me. But tonight, something entirely different deprived me from sleep, or rather- someone.
'It's perfectly fine not to be okay, Regina.' Emma's words ring in my head like an alarm I can't seem to shut off. I slowly shift within the comfort of the bed, not even worried about waking Leopold up. He could be a heavy sleeper sometimes. I scoff silently to myself, shaking my head as I stare into the pages of my open book. Where does Ms. Swan get off pretending to know me? Especially when we didn't know each other at all.
My chest rises and falls slowly with my hard intake of breath. She was concerned. I tell myself, calming down the anger that once again finds its way inside of me. Why am I so angry? Ms. Swan was quite the observant one, anyone could see that. Of course, it's up to her to figure out what goes on inside this house. Only it wasn't up to her. I shake my head again, arguing with myself.
She had no right to meddle in anything, no matter how worried she might be. Why worry about me? Surely it couldn't have been whatever it was Leopold had said to her inside of his office that set her off to do so, like some knight in shining armor. The thought threatened to make me smile, the sight of her in a suit of armor, ready and willing to protect those around her. Ms. Swan surely seemed like the type to leap in front of a bullet for those she loved and cared for.
My daughter was very lucky, indeed.
My question is raised once again, why me? Why trouble herself to want to make me feel the slightest bit of safety? I was nothing to her. I was simply her girlfriend's mother.
I turn to Leopold, my eyes scanning him for the security that he is in fact in deep slumber. Once I verify that he is, I try to go back to reading the second book to the Outlander series- Dragonfly in Amber- my most favorite of all the series. Yes, the content of the story was strong in violence and sexual encounters, and quite vulgar at times, but it was a favorite of mine. It had romance, something that I only got a taste off of the pages of these books or anything else I read. Thank you, Belle, for introducing me to this story.
I know you're probably wondering, 'what is she doing reading a story that has strong sexual content of rape within its pages?' Especially when I myself have suffered such traumatic abuse in the hands of my husband.
Trust me. Even I have asked myself that question so many times, and my conclusion is always the same, that maybe, deep- deep- down I want to believe that not everyone is as bad as Leopold. Someone out there had to be as perfect as Jamie is with Claire. Of course, I was talking about fictional characters who despite their perfection to one another, still bared flaws like anyone else. Besides, I tended to skip through anything that would become too rough for me to handle.
If only a romance like Claire and Jamie's could ooze off of these pages and splat onto me like the ink that was used to print these novels. If only… I was that lucky, to find a love so strong and as real as the one Jamie felt for Claire upon setting his eyes on her for the first time. Of course that was just wishful thinking on my part. Because that type of love did not exist. Not for me.
Releasing a sigh, I finally gave up on trying to read, placing my bookmark in between the pages and closing the book for good as I placed it along my nightstand. Emma. Once again, she's on my mind, and- once again- I had been unfair to her today. I had snapped at her when I had absolutely no reason to. She was only trying to help, after all.
'It's perfectly fine not to be okay, Regina.' I hear her words in my voice like the whisper that brushed past her lips as she said it. Was it fine to not be okay? Maybe. But, I was too broken beyond repair, that even Emma's good intent couldn't fix me. She couldn't just snap her finger and magically fix my life in one go. It didn't work that way. And I didn't like the idea of her getting mixed into a troubled life that was mine to carry.
Ms. Swan her a life of her own- far away from mine. She had my daughter, Audrey, who I could see, she loved Emma above and beyond it all. They had a future mapped out together, the way it should be. That's all Emma should be concerned about. Not me, and certainly not my troubles.
Although… She was sweet and kind enough to return a note she had left for me as a thank you, retrieving it back for me after Leopold had tossed it away in the library. I dare to smile a little at that memory. Because who would trouble themselves to simply return a piece of paper to someone else? As if she knew that seeing it tossed aside and abandoned had hurt me.
I have to apologize. I think to myself. Again, I don't mean to snap. Sometimes, I can't control it and it just happens. Especially around Emma- so I have come to notice. How could she affect me so, and then calm me all at once by having a sweet gesture with me today?
The way her eyes looked at me- into my own eyes- as she stood before me. The way her hand reached for mine to hand me that note, as if in secret. That was a surprise in its own that I surely was not expecting. I could have thanked her, I could have given her a smile in gratitude, but I didn't. Instead… I snapped.
Of course, we all have a defense mechanism. And mine seemed to come up a lot around her.
Why? What was I so afraid of? My eyes close on me and I can feel my forehead wrinkle in frustration. I look to Leopold again, assuring myself that he is in fact asleep. He is. I shuffle out of bed, not worrying that I would wake him, and make my way out of the room, shutting the bedroom door behind me.
I make my way down the hallway, seeing the door to Audrey's bedroom closed. All was quiet as I made my way downstairs, pursuing my destination into the kitchen with the goal for a glass of water. I flicker the switch that turns on the lights to the room, and I gasp, my eyes wide as I see Emma dressed in a pair of pajama bottoms and black tank top, sitting by the breakfast bar, eating a bowl of cereal. In the dark- I might add!
What in the world? My hand lands splayed along my chest in fight. Emma's eyes are wide as she's staring at me. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." She says to me, clearly embarrassed that she had been caught in the act of enjoying a late night snack in the privacy of the dark. She chews her way through a mouthful of cereal as her spoon clatters along the glass bowl.
"What the hell are you doing sitting there in the middle of the night?" I bark unintentionally at her through my startle.
She chews again before giving me a quick response with, "Eating cereal."
"In the dark?" I scoff, hoping my heart would start beating again soon.
"I didn't want to wake anyone up." She stands from her seat, now resembling a child that had just been caught in the act of stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
I can't help but release a chuckle at how guilty the poor dear looks from something she wasn't even at fault for. What a child. The thought crosses my mind, only to retract back on myself and I have to remind myself as I stare at Emma, up and down, that she is far from being a child. She was a grown woman. A young woman- but a woman nonetheless.
Still… For a twenty-something-year-old woman, Ms. Swan certainly could act like a child half the time. Because really, who ate cereal in the dark? And weighted in with my forty years of age, Emma was certainly a child by my side. Which, I suppose, wasn't as bad as I made it out to be. It was fair to admit that I found it quite adorable.
Or maybe Ms. Swan was just one of those people who everyone liked. I certainly did.
And I still owed her an apology. Which I decided to work my way into by moving past my frightened episode I had shortly suffered, not to mention frightening her as well, and starting with a more calm and centered question. "May I ask what is keeping you up this late?"
I give a quick glance at the clock by the kitchen wall and see the hands as they read: One-thirty in the morning.
"I had a lot on my mind, and to be honest, a bowl of cereal always calms me." She shrugs. "And fruit loops always seem to taste better at this hour of the night."
"How old are you again?" My brow lifts in a mocking manner as Emma chuckles. I feel free to allow the corner of my lip to tilt upward into a small smile as I suddenly start to become more relaxed.
"I'm twenty-four. Soon to be twenty-five." Emma tells me in all honesty.
Twenty-four? So young and so full of life. I would have guessed she was possibly a bit older than Audrey. "Soon?" My eyebrow remains lifted as I feel more at ease to step further into the kitchen.
"Next month, yeah." I watch Emma as she reaches for her bowl and places it inside of the sink. As her back is to me, I allow my eyes to wander, drinking in her appearance in her sleeping attire. I notice her arms, how well cared for they are in the physical sense, as well as the rest of her body, judging from how well her tank top molds perfectly with her.
Leopold wore tank tops sometimes underneath his clothes, but I can't ever recall a time when they looked as good as Emma's did on hers. Then again, we are talking about a huge difference- more than one- between Emma and my husband.
I quickly shake my head, hoping to scurry away the strange thoughts that I had summed up in my head. "Next month? Any plans?" As long as we're up, I might as well keep up the conversation.
Besides, it was rather nice to actually be enjoying a conversation with someone for a change.
I don't have many chances to do that. I'm almost afraid for Ms. Swan to notice it.
How pathetic I would seem to her if she did notice.
Emma shrugs, "Not really. I honestly hate being the center of attention in any situation." This surprises me. I hear her chuckle as she says, "I'm sure Audrey will want to make a big deal out of it, but I've been telling her not to."
Hates being the center of attention. I make a mental note of this newfound information on Ms. Emma Swan. Who would have thought?
"Well, a birthday is definitely something to celebrate." I say to Emma.
The last time I ever celebrated my birthday was at fifteen years old. It all stopped after that.
"If you don't mind me asking- how old are you?" It's no secret that her direct question takes me by surprise. My eyebrow lifts and I am quick to shake my head. "Come on," there's pleading in her voice. "I just told you how old I'll be."
"That was your choice, dear." I chuckle, allowing a tiny smirk to take over my lips. Emma was certainly quick on her feet. But I could be quicker.
I see the corner of her lip rise up into a private smirk, almost as if she knew something I didn't. Did she? "Alright," for whatever reason, she decides to move on from the topic of my age. Thank God. "Could you maybe answer another question?"
My breath hitches inside my throat as I think of what other question awaited me next. "Maybe," I breathe out. "Depends what it is."
"When's your birthday?" I was glad it was a simple question I was willing to answer this time. Still, I had to wonder to myself, why was Emma so eager to know all this about me all of a sudden? Could it be that she was as relaxed talking to me as I was talking to her? Did she enjoy it that much? She certainly looked relaxed, but I wasn't about to draw conclusions.
"July." I cross my arms over my chest as I answer. And I wait.
"No shit?" My eyebrow lifts once again and the mother in me gives her a scolding look that seems to work because in that moment, before Emma's brows reach her hairline, her cheeks turn crimson red before me as she quickly says, "Sorry- it's just- your birthday is a month after mine." She flashes me a sincere smile that I can't help to focus on.
Was she trying to know all this about me because she actually wanted to know me? To what purpose?
I shouldn't have scolded her for using a bad word. I didn't mind such words, truthfully. Besides, Emma was old enough to talk however she pleased.
"So is my daughter's." I decided to go along with the conversation, wondering where it was going. Of course, I'm sure she knows when Audrey's birthday is.
"What day does yours fall on?" She asked me, obviously filled with questions for me tonight. Which, okay, I didn't mind them. It was actually kind of refreshing.
After pursing my lips for a minute or two, I finally answered her question, "Twenty-second."
I can see the surprise build up on Emma's face, "So you and Audrey are…" Her eyes squint as she keeps them on me, obviously doing the math in her head. "Six days apart from almost sharing the same birthday. Cool."
I shift a little uncomfortably, because by this point, I know she has figured out my age. I say nothing.
"Hey, listen," Emma's tone takes a more serious route into our conversation, and right away, I know where she's heading. I don't know how I know- I just did. "I'm sor-"
"Don't dare apologize. You did nothing wrong." I step in before she can even finish, throwing a glare into the mix. Of course she didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I did! And I was sorry for it.
Emma chuckles as if she doesn't believe one bit of that. "Yeah…" I hear her murmur under her thinned out lips. Her eyes avert my gaze for a moment to look down at her own bare feet before they look up at me again.
Silence takes over the room, surrounding Emma and I for a good minute or two. It feels eternal, and it becomes increasingly suffocating. The atmosphere around the room dramatically shifts from friendly to downfall in a matter of minutes. I watch the way she watches me, and I can tell she is thinking the same thing I am. About this evening's events that she and Audrey bared witness to. I know she knows, and honestly, now that she knows as terrified as it made me, it also brought me a sense of peace. Although, how much peace could one actually have without being able to predict the other person's reaction to their deepest and darkest secret?
I watch Emma- I watch her eyes- and see a change in them. And that right there, reminds me of what I have to be afraid of. The color in her eyes went from a gentle green to an almost dark gray as they filled with anger because of the memory that haunted us both tonight. And that pained me.
I feel her eyes observing me in a way they shouldn't. I know now more than ever that she's caught sight of another bruise, possibly the one that's resting along my neck. I pull on the silk neck of my pajamas to cover it up as best I can, trying to push her source of anger out of view. "I'm glad I ran into you, and that we have a moment alone." I say calmly, locking my gaze with her to give her something else to look at apart from my bruises. "I wanted to ask you for a small favor."
"Name it." She says to me. It works. Her eyes are more focused now as she nods.
I take a moment to draw in a calm breath before I say, "I need you to move on from whatever you think you've uncovered here." It pains me to see disappointment build up in Emma's face. But I needed her to steer clear.
And if she really wanted to help me. This was the best thing Emma could do for me.
"Reg-"
She's about to fight back, challenge me, which I put a stop to by reaching for her bare arm, wrapping my hand pleadingly along her bicep. "Please, Emma." I call her by her name, voicing it in a pleading manner. So if my eyes, which sting with unshed tears, aren't good enough to get the job done, hopefully my quivering voice is.
I can see Emma's heart ache just by looking into her eyes. Was this normal? I wasn't sure. She's frustrated, angry and possibly hurt by the fact that I wanted to keep all of this bottled up and stored away. I had no idea if she could read me as easily as I clearly could read her, but I hoped so.
For both our sake.
And I can't explain how… You probably won't begin to understand if I tried. But in that moment, when I reached for Emma's arm, so close and so personal that our skins came together in warm contact, I swear I could see all of her anger, disappointment and frustration fade away. As well as mine. My eyes fall along my hand and I wonder how on earth it got there.
"Oh," Sidney's voice, along with him standing by the entrance to the kitchen, eyeing us both widely and obviously startled to see anyone up at this Godly hour, startles me. I quickly remove my hand from Emma's arm as we both turn to him. "I'm so sorry, ma'am, I didn't realize there was anyone in here. I thought the lights were on, so I came to-"
I decided to cut him off as politely as I could, "It's fine, Sidney. You can return to bed, I'll be returning to my bedroom in a minute." I give him a reassuring smile and he returns a nod at me.
Sidney has been a first hand witness to the horrific things that happen inside this house. A part of him has always looked out for me, and I couldn't be more grateful for him.
"Yes, ma'am." His eyes exchange a quick glance between Emma and I. "Good night." He gives another nod and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving Emma and I alone once again.
"Good night," I murmured to Sidney under my breath before turning back to Emma. I am surprised and happy to see that gentle green color taking over her again. I much prefer that. "Good night, Ms. Swan."
Thankfully, Emma doesn't say anything else on the matter of our previous discussion. She simply gives off a single nod and brushes gently past me on her way out of the kitchen. Once Emma is out of sight, I am finally able to release a breath I had been holding in. It worked its way slowly up my throat, that my instinct was to wrap one of my hands along there. It almost felt suffocating. To know that Emma knew what was going on here was suffocation enough.
I just hoped she would leave well enough alone after our conversation.
Even after my talk with Emma, I am unable to find sleep. I toss and turn in bed, grateful that my dear husband decided to have a couple of drinks after his defeat against Emma in that game of chess. How I wish I could have been there to have seen his face. I lay on my back once again, and glanced out the window this time. The curtains were drawn allowing the light of the moon to enter the bedroom.
My thoughts drifted off, all leading to my conversation with Ms. Swan. Now that she's uncovered a truth that remained mine until tonight- that had turned into my deepest and darkest of secrets since I was seventeen years old- things weighed on me a little more. They weighed on me so much I was sure I would asphyxiate to death. After my conversation with her tonight, something inside of me kept screaming. Almost begging to be helped. But I couldn't be helped. I shake my head in silence as I fight back the urge of tears. No one can help me. Not even Emma.
'It's perfectly fine not to be okay.' I hear those words playing inside of my mind, like a damn mantra. Only it wasn't mine to have. My eyes close and I can see her gentle eyes staring deeply into mine, and in the moment, I could swear to witness some semblance of hope. I can feel her light, surprising touch brush against my hand, it was almost clear to feel again.
Emma Swan. In a moment where my fear took over me tonight, in my moment of panic to her light touch surprising me and discovering marks that have lived on my body for twenty-four years. Looking into that girl's gentle green gaze is all it took to calm me. In that moment, for just a split second of looking into Emma's eyes- or maybe it was her touch- I actually came to believe that there could be a possible and slight chance that things could change for the better.
Silly, I know.
But if you met Emma, you would agree with me, too. Emma had this way of carrying herself with such a level of positivity. She bore a strength that I would never come to have. A strength that was beyond my reach.
Anyone woman- girl- would be lucky to have an Emma Swan in their lives. Just like my daughter was.
I suddenly found myself wondering if Emma herself knew that.
A brand new morning, and I find myself sitting at the dining room table. Enjoying a freshly squeezed glass of orange juice, taking a sip at a time, while my husband reads the business section of today's morning paper. Sitting at the head of the table, as it was his usual spot. The crackle of the paper filling the silence of the room.
I can see him shifting in his seat out of the corner of my eye as I finish up my breakfast.
My choice of attire today was a simple cream-colored skirt that reached down to my ankles, with another one of my long sleeve blouses and a red scarf to cover up my bruising. While Leopold was dressed in one of his many suits, ready for another day's work.
Our mornings weren't like a typical husband and wife's mornings should be. We didn't greet each other with a 'good morning,' much less a kiss; which I was more than fine with. And somehow, I knew Leopold was, too. After all, Leopold was never the affectionate type of man. He didn't believe in kissing each other good night, or bringing me flowers because he felt it in his heart to do so. The man had to possess a heart first in order to feel anything toward me. Actually, the only thing he ever did feel toward me was possession. Because that's what I was to him, an object to claim.
In my early years, during our first, few years of marriage, I often wondered about Leopold's life. From pure observation, I tried deciphering what could have gone wrong in his life to make him the way he was now. With no light in his eyes, with no beating in his heart, or a simple ounce of remorse for anyone but himself. Maybe some for Audrey, but even his so-called love toward our daughter remained questionable to me. Leopold never even wanted to talk about his life as a child, if he ever had one to talk about in the first place. He hated his father, that much was clear, and that was all I ever knew.
I've drawn my own conclusions that Leopold's father was possibly exactly like him or worse.
This beastly behavior being the only one Leopold knew.
"I'll be arriving home late again tonight. I have an eight o'clock meeting." My eyes averted to him as he broke the silence, taking a sip of his coffee. Another late night. Those were my favorite kind of nights.
Leopold was a man of secrets. I learned that from day one. And as such, he never cared to share anything work-related with me, seeing as I didn't have a right to know what he did or didn't do. The fact that he was even sharing this small intel of information now, took me by surprise.
Another night away from him. Sometimes I wished he would leave and never return. Sometimes my mind filled itself with the fantasy of having the police turn up at my front door to deliver the devastating news that he had suffered an accident somewhere along the road and died on the spot. And every single time that happened, I deeply hated myself for ever wishing him ill.
God! I shake my head in silence, whisking away my thoughts. Apart from knowing something like that would never happen, that wasn't the type of person I was. That was the type of person he was. And I was nothing like him. I never would be.
"Fine." I give a nod as I take a bite of my eggs.
My eyes moved to the sudden movement of Leopold's hand as he reached for a slice of strawberry, calmly popping it into his mouth. He chewed on it a few times before he said, "I almost forgot," he closed the newspaper, setting it down, his eyes locked on mine as he continued. "Partners from another company are flying in today. I think it would be wise to have everything prepared for a welcoming dinner tomorrow night."
"Here?" My eyes glare into his, sharply. Not another party. I hated his gatherings.
To have the house filled with people I didn't care to talk to or didn't particularly like. Robert Gold being one of them. I loved Belle- his wife- dearly. She had actually become a good friend over the years, and she had a heart of gold. If only she knew what kind of octopus she married. The man could become handsy after one too many drinks.
And every time Leopold decided to throw a party to celebrate whatever deal he had sealed, I always had to play the good-wife role in front of all of these strangers. Like someone off of the Stepford Wives. Honestly, I wished I was one. Anything would be better than smiling in front of everyone than playing a role that was never mine to play.
"Yes." Leopold said matter-of-factly, turning his attention back to the newspaper.
I shake my head but say nothing.
"What?" His eyes are glaring at me, almost daring me to interject on the idea.
I never had anything in my defense, so I used the only one I could think of to try and avoid a party tonight. "Leopold, our daughter is here for the summer. Do you really think a party with all your drunken co-workers is a wise thing to have right now?" I hear him sigh in aggravation, but I don't care. The last thing I was about to allow is for one of them to become handsy with Audrey, or Emma. I can't imagine what would happen if that occurred tonight. "Especially when some of them can-"
"Audrey will be fine." As always, Leopold cuts me off, giving me no choice in the matter. This party was happening whether I wanted to or not. "No one will dare touch her. That's why I want dinner here, under my own roof, so if there is anything to be concerned about, I will handle matters myself."
Handle matters? Audrey wasn't a simple matter to handle.
I am so angered, I can't help but scoff and roll my eyes. "How can you, when you will be just as drunk as them?" I ask in an aggravation of my own.
"Now, that's enough. This isn't up for discussion." His glare throws daggers in my direction, menacingly. "You just be the doting wife and do what I am telling you to do. That's all you have to worry about."
I know he notices my discontent as I stab some of my eggs with my fork and place it into my mouth. He hates it when I'm in a bad mood over plans Leopold already has planned out. I hear him place down the newspaper- this time for good- as he's looking at me again.
He releases a heavy sigh as he says, "Isabella will be there with Robert. You should be happy about that, Regina." He chuckles, "You'll finally have someone to talk to about your books."
My books. Everything was a joke to him. He hated that library as much as he hated me. Although, my hatred for him weighs a whole lot more, and I proudly stand by it.
"Good morning!" Audrey struts into the dining room and I couldn't be more thankful for that glorious interruption. My eyes dart down to the hand she's holding, which belongs to Emma. I smile after taking a sip of my orange juice.
"Good morning, sweetheart," Leopold smiles, his head tilting so that his cheek is ready and waiting for a kiss which Audrey happily gives. "Ms. Swan." He nods to Emma. "Good morning."
"Good morning." Said Emma, giving my husband a nod before her eyes turned to me and she nodded in greeting my way.
"Good morning." I acknowledge Emma's nod with a greeting and a smile directed at her and my daughter. They join us at the table, helping themselves to some breakfast. My eyes are trained on Emma, "Did you sleep well?" I ask out of courtesy.
Emma's eyes looked at me in surprise, as if she didn't expect me to ask such a question. Truth was, neither was I, but I still owed her an apology, and I intended to see it through. "Very good, thank you. You?"
"Fine." I give Emma a small smile and return to my breakfast. I can see Leopold out of the corner of my eye, watching us before his attention turns back to Audrey.
"Audrey. I hope you and Ms. Swan brought some suitable clothes for a dinner party."
While I roll my eyes behind my glass of juice, Audrey beams. She always liked a good party. "We're having a party?" She asked with excitement in her voice. Emma sits there chewing through her food, and I wonder, given that she hates being the center of attention, if she is dreading the idea of attending a party just as I am.
"Tomorrow night." Leopold nods.
"Awesome! More reason for Em and I to do some shopping today." She smiles enthusiastically, turns to me, catching me off guard as she says, "Mom, you're coming with us. We could use your opinion."
My eyes quickly turn to Leopold who is silent, then I turn to Audrey and smile, "I'd be glad to, dear." I reply, helping myself to a quick glance at Emma. A sense of peace comes over me as going shopping with them would draw me away from the suffocating confinements of this house. Knowing Leopold wasn't happy about my leaving the house, made me happy.
That was one of the best things about Audrey being home. I could leave the house and Leopold couldn't say no.
Leopold tucks the folded newspaper underneath his arm as he stands, wanting to hear no more about our shopping plans. "Well, I'll leave you all to that, then. I have to get going. Busy day." He walks up to our daughter and places a kiss at the top of her head. She smiles. He could fool you for the doting father that he wasn't. "Bye."
"Bye, dad." Audrey smiles, picking up her glass of orange juice as she takes a sip.
To my surprise, I see Leopold walking toward me out of the corner of my eye and as I sit still, I feel his hand find a home along my shoulder, his grip a little tight around it as his lips place a kiss at the top of my head. "Sweetheart. I'll see you tonight." He whispers along my ear. I can practically feel the brush of his breath along my hair. My body tenses.
'I'll see you tonight.' I hated those words. I knew well what they meant. But despite my discontentment, I look up at him and give a forced smile. Pretending to be the doting wife that I was far from being.
Audrey takes a quick sip of her juice once her father is out of view and out the front door. "Well, I'll go get ready to leave." She announces in excitement and is rushing out of her chair.
"Don't you want to finish your breakfast first?" I ask in vain as Audrey is already racing up the stairs. I chuckle as I can hear her footsteps thumping their way up the steps. Audrey always loved shopping.
I shake my head as a smile stretches across my lips, and as I look up, I find Emma's eyes are watching me. Now that we were alone, it was the perfect moment to speak up. "I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I honestly shouldn't have snapped at you, yet again." My gaze drops away from hers in embarrassment.
I didn't expect her to forgive me. But, to my surprise- yet again- Emma's head tilts as she says, "Were you rude to me?" She says in a quizzical, and playful manner. The corner of her lip which started off in a small smirk grew widely to where her pearly white teeth were exposed for me to see that indeed- everything was okay.
Something new and strange for me to see in anyone. Had it been Leopold, I would have already suffered the consequences.
But, this was Emma.
I can't think of anything more to say except to smile back. My cheeks still slightly flushed.
"You apologize a lot." Emma says to me, taking a bite out of her toast.
I scoff, hoping it didn't sound puffed out in anger. "Well, I really am sorry." I reply.
"No, I mean-" I hear Emma chuckle, and my eyes can't help but lock onto her eyes. They are kind and gentle looking again, it was hard to turn away from them. It almost made me question my hatred toward the color green. "I mean, there's no need for you to keep apologizing to me, Regina. Believe it or not, I get it. I really do. I understand."
She gets it? She understood. Somehow, I know what she means. Did that mean that she, too, suffered…? I can't dare myself to ask. It wasn't my business. Yet, drawing up my own possible conclusion isn't what throws me off, but the fact that here was this girl- Emma- smiling at me as if nothing had happened. Here was Emma, smiling and pretending as if I hadn't just lashed out on her again. How did she do that? How was my lashed out behavior in any way okay? It shouldn't be okay.
I was wrong to lash out. I knew it in my heart.
But again, as I felt that anger starting to bottle up inside of me again, hating myself for lashing out at this poor girl. All it took was one look into Emma's eyes and I felt that anger wash away like a wave along the sand on a beach.
Was this normal? To feel this calm simply by looking into a person's kind eyes, that when you look, you could feel as if that person can look right through your soul?
Could Emma see my soul? And if she could- could she see the pain that lingered within it?
I possibly would never know.
