Chapter Two - Regina

When I stir awake, my neck is stiff and my mouth tastes dry. I think, as I pull my scarf over my mouth to contain the worst of my post-nap breath and start circling my head to stretch out my neck.

"Hey, how long was I-" I stop when I've just seen where we are. We are pulling up the driveway of the tremendous white mansion which are all dusted lightly with snow, although no more is falling; the sky is not cloudless and fully darkened to black. We're moving slowly, "We're … here?"

I thought I'd nodded off for thirty minutes and I didn't think the white mansion is closeby. I thought it'll be in middle of nowhere between two long rows of pine trees and through a vast estate of manicured lawns, but no, it's a simple white mansion. It has apple trees on the right side of the yard, and I have to admit, it's a beautiful house and it fits for a Queen.

We were supposed to quiz and query and question one another the whole way, until we were both officially filled in on every personal detail we could think of. Now we're here, and we've barely moved past our names.

It's impossible. There is no way I can stroll into this looming estate and convince Henry's entire family that we are in committed relationship. It was enough of a stretch telling my mother that we are friends.

"Henry who?" she had demanded three days ago, when I'd called to tell her about my new Christmas plans. I had of course left out the more unique features of the arrangement, but Mother was still managing to make the whole thing sound ridiculous. "I don't know any 'Henry,' do I?"

"No," I said snippily. "Why should you have met him? I don't bring my friends around for juice and fairy tale stories anymore, do I? I am grown woman." Talking to my mother often causes me to inhabit my teenage personality again, and the backslide through time seems to be happening even quicker than usual during this phone call. It's one of reasons why I left my mother and never intended to be seen or spend time with her ever again and I have no interested to do so.

She tutted, "All right, but surely I should have at least heard of this guy?"

"Why? I do not have to report who my friends are to you."

"No you don't. I just thought that I might have been aware of a friend who you're close enough with to spend Christmas with his family instead of me, that's all."

I hate when she does this, to make me feel bad and small. Although, I recognized the thread of hurt in her words. I quickly revisited the idea of eating Christmas lunch with her. We would have fancy meal and a nice Christmas evening and Christmas day. My mother continued, "It was bad enough that you were going to be going away with Dianella. I thought now that your holiday is cancelled, you'd be content to spend the day at home like normal." She paused for a moment, "Is she why you're running off to the mansion? Is this all about Dianella?"

I heavily sighs. It was so typical of Cora to find a way to blame everything on Dianella and to try stick her nose into my business and cast her petty judgements. She has never liked Dianella in the first place and even tried to drive a wedge between us that almost caused her to leave me, but she stayed with me. With all the festive memories that I had been conjuring up shifted and I saw that mother wasn't at the center of them at all. It was my dad, Henry Mills, that brought joy and laughter. Now he's gone, Christmas at home would never be the same ever again, and it would be best for both of us to accept that we need to let old traditions go. This is exactly why I always plan a Christmas vacation away from home, to escape. I know Cora will be perfectly fine at home. She would have her boy toy for the day or do magic.

"it's nothing to do with Dianella, mother," I said. "Henry just needed a friend around this Christmas, so I'm stepping in. I am sorry I hadn't mentioned him before, but we've got a lot closer recently. He's been around for years and he's my best friend."

Here in the real world, he's still a stranger. I look at him now, staring straight ahead at the white mansion with his hands clamped on the steering wheel. He must be so furious with me for wasting so much time sleeping. I'm furious with me, actually.

"Home sweet home!" he says in a sing-song voice, surprising me. His face breaks into a smile, a dimple showing. "Did you sleep well?"

Completely stumped by the calmness and the sing-songing with surprise, "Yes. I am sorry I was out for so long. I know we were meant to-"

"Oh, it's fine. You need to sleep, so you slept. I kept the music quiet so it wouldn't wake you." He turns down the radio and about to turn off the car. Henry repeated with shrugs, "It's really fine." He got out of the car, "remember we still got time, my family isn't here yet."

Oh yeah. I do remember now. The Nolan's family are all away right now. The grandparents are having party in town since Mary Margaret is a mayor, so he mentions that they would probably get a hotel in town. They are filthy rich, so they can afford to stay anywhere. Emma Swan said she always comes late and the father isn't in the picture anymore He wouldn't say why or what happened. Aunt Ruby always comes with Emma, but this time because of the new boyfriend, they will be coming two days late.

"We will do all our homework later tonight," Henry says. "Plenty of time for it. And there's no need to stress about the tiny details anyway. It's not like you'll be getting grilled about my favorite color." He's silent for a moment. "Which is Blue."

I laugh, "Mine is red."

"Perfect. My precise favorite color is cobalt blue. It's a little bit dark, but also a light bit bright. A lovely deep color, very calming. It makes me think of the ocean, and making me want go out in an adventure."

I raise a hand to stop him, "my favorite color is still red."

"Let's stick to the basics for now. I am a dog person, which you already know, and I like tea over coffee, and apple juice over orange. Oh, and right we've been dating for five months, you're right. And we didn't meet through work, I don't think because the power dynamics could look a bit icky. Instead, we met at a coffee shop near our work. You had your head stuck on newspaper and I was reading comics then accidently spilled your coffee over my best suit when I thought your coffee is mine. I wasn't paying attention, and the rest is history. It's all sorted, okay? You can relax."

He's right. I can relax. We have all night to iron out the details of our relationship. And I did need sleep. I've been working flat out the last few days, spending the entire weekend cramming in all my meetings, completing CEO reports, and pre-scheduling social media posts and appointments with several clients, so I can clock off for Christmas. Dianella always hated me bringing my laptop on holiday with us. We would had such a fantastic time, splashing in the pool and feeding each other new delicacies and making full use of the hotel's king-sized bed, but then I'd have to sneak away to get a few hours of work done and Dianella would be furious that I was bursting our perfect bubble of bliss for the sake of reading some emails.

Now I have proper look at the large white mansion: two stories high and at least twice as wide, with several columns on the front porch. The entire house has been flawlessly decorated with glinting golden lights and ornate baubles. There is none of the cheap tinsel and cheap Christmas decoration you will find on this house. It's beautiful and breathtaking. I'd be willingly to bet they have everything inside even a real fire roaring inside. I might even smell the smoky warmth of it in it the air; I'm definitely getting cinnamon on my coffee.

"So," Henry says, "shall I show you around?"

Yes, I shall be shown around, and I shall make myself at home sweet home. I might even keep an eye out for interior design inspiration. My flat is due a bit of update now that half of its contents have been removed, and it can't hurt for me to ask Henry where his parents got some of their things from so that I can look online for discounted versions later. Not that I am telling a soul that I am filthy rich as well, because I came from long line of nobility family as if we are royals.

Other than thinking about redecorating, I have nothing much to worry about during my stay at this perfect palace place. Henry and I will sort our story later as we lounge in our beds beneath thousand-thread-count sheets. I will calmly explain that we didn't meet by bumping into one another in a coffee shop, because ridiculous things like that do not happen in real life. People are simply not that clumsy and they are not brought together by whimsical slapstick acts of fate. They meet online dating or through friends like blind date, so we will agree on that, then I will lay my head on a plump goose-feather pillow and pretend to be his girlfriend. I will occasionally hold Henry's hand and kiss his cheek and tell some tiny little lies to a bunch of strangers, letting the fake relationship distract me if I'm not healing as fast as I'd like.

All of this will be good for me. I am going to have splendid time. Behind those grand double doors lies a ultimate luxury holiday- my perfect uncomplicated Christmas. I am ready to step on in. I nod to Henry, take in a big hearty breath, and fling open the car door. Henry nods towards me to follow him inside then there's horrible thud as the door bangs, and then a surprised little yelp from whatever it banged against. Before I could work out what happened next, my face has come smacking bang against … something.

I pull back, dazed and confused. I jerk back sharply to take a step back, my foot catches on a stone and I go tumbling backwards. The someone comes lunging forward and catches me, one hand gripping my flailing arm and the other swooping behind my back. I look up into her face, a bleach-blonde long wavy hair and a pair of green eyes. She's one of the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life. Who is she?

"Mom!"

As Henry's voice rings out from the other side of the car, I remember where I am. Who I am here with. I pull myself quickly into an upright position, then draw back, untangling myself from this someone, this woman. This Emma then I remembered, she's his mother.

Henry comes up behind me and places a hand on my small of my back. For a brief moment, I'm surprised by the causal intimacy, by the foreign feeling of a man's large warm hand on my body. I push the discomfort away and lean into the embrace.

"This is a lovely surprise, mom," he continues, beaming at the woman front of us. "I didn't realize you'd be here yet. I guess it's introduction time already!" His smile gets even wider somehow, and he stands taller. "Mom—this is Regina, my girlfriend."

I cringe at the lie then pretend to shiver in the cold. I flash a quick smile at Emma, allowing my eyes to linger on her face for a second before returning my gaze to Henry.

"And Regina—this is Emma. My mom."

I blink at him, confused because there wasn't supposed to be any family here yet. Henry doesn't seem to be worried about how unprepared we are and also Emma doesn't look like Henry. Emma has blonde hair and Henry has brown hair, but only thing is similar between them is their green eyes. I can't wrap my head around it because Emma is exactly my type.

Sadly, she is completely off-limits!

I cringe again, this time for myself. I should not be thinking for a second about whether she is on-limits. For one, she's straight obviously and two, Emma is Henry's mother, for gods sake. Most important of all, I am here to pretend to be Henry's girlfriend. That's it. I can't be all carried away over the first woman I see on arrival. I especially dread to think what could make me getting up so close and personal with Emma like that. No one will believe our epic collision was an accident. I am not sure I believe it. No, no, don't go there, Regina.

"Oh," Henry calls out suddenly, "come on."

Grateful for the distraction, while Henry helped me with bags to carry inside the house. Again, I hit the door with suitcase accidently, again, "I am so sorry," I cry.

"I noticed," Emma says wryly. Then she sighs, "It is not your fault and what have you have in there?" Emma joked a little as she took the suitcase from me.

My goodness. Even her voice is beautiful. It's as smooth as honey, but with slight husky edge to it. I could just get lost in it. No, No, getting lost in honey-ish voices for me. I have to focus, focus my attention on something else. Oh no, … Like those cars parks opposite of Henry's. There are three of them. Great. A sporty car, one huge SUV and a classic Cadillac. Nice cars.

"How old is the Cadillac? It's stunning. It must be a rare model? It bet it cost a fortune!"

Henry dives straight into talking about the car. Emma catches my eye and searches my face. I look away quickly. I try to get lost in Henry's voice, but I'm too distracted. I can feel Emma's eyes on me, making every inch of my skin feel warm. I don't like it. Her attention is making me want to tuck myself out of sight, to draw in and hide all my long limbs, which currently feel even more gangly and awkward than they did when I was sixteen-years-old girl. I am like the smart exterior that I've carefully constructed myself over the years, to become professional and cold. I sigh. My simple, relaxing Christmas is starting to look pretty bloody complicated. Great.