"You really didn't have to do this..." Emily said gently as she and Fran sat with their feet soaking in the warm water. Fran had insisted that the two of them needed some time alone and, though she wasn't all that thrilled about an intimate conversation with the mother of her situationship, she reluctantly agreed to pedicures with a little gentle cajoling.

"Don't be silly," Fran insisted with a warm smile, reaching over to clasp Emily's hand, "I'm happy to."

Emily attempted a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She wished she could say the same, but in all honesty, she would have preferred to be laying in bed, staring vacantly at the wall, and mulling over all the life choices that had lead her to this...

Fran gave her a look that seemed to say she could see all of those thoughts swimming in her head, but there was no judgment there, only sympathy. "Besides, I thought you and I could use some mother/daughter bonding time," she said.

She gave a small laugh, but it was hollow. Perhaps because she'd never heard those words before, even from her own mother. The thought made her sad, if only briefly, knowing she would likely never have this with Elizabeth (that was an issue for another time, though, as she currently had far too much on her emotional plate to belabour her bond – or lack thereof – with her mother).

Fran seemed to see all this and more swirling beneath the picture perfect facade Emily was doing her best to maintain. She saw it, but extended her the kindness of pretending she didn't. "You must be feeling a lot of conflicting emotions right now," she prompted, "Do you want to talk about any of it?"

"Not really," she said weakly, suddenly seeming very interested in what the pedicurist was doing.

"Not to sound trite," Fran gently pushed her, "But it will help..."

She didn't seem entirely convinced, though she didn't say as much. "I wouldn't even know where to begin," she said at length, which was true. (I don't trust myself not to fall apart, she didn't say, though it was just as true and, perhaps, more relevant...)

Nodding solemnly, Fran agreed, "These things are rarely that straightforward." She offered a small sympathetic smile. "But I tend to find they untangle themselves in the retelling."

Emily still didn't seem convinced, but she also didn't feel any of her usual strength to push back in that moment. She felt tired. Weak. Empty. "Does it matter?" she asked quietly. "Does anything?"

"It does matter, Emily," she insisted, "It matters to me." A beat. "And I know for a fact it matters to Derek. Very much so."

"I know..."

"But?" Fran prompted, able to see that there was more to the thought.

She shrugged her shoulders up near her ears, looking almost afraid of what she was about to say, true though it may have been. "Maybe it would be better if it didn't..."

Brows lifting, Fran clarified, "If Derek didn't care?"

"About me," she added meekly. She'd been thinking it for awhile now, but had yet to say it aloud to anyone and, now that she had, she immediately wished she hadn't...

"Do you really believe that?" she asked, though her expression seemed to seriously doubt she did.

Emily didn't seem to have an answer to that. Or she didn't think Fran would like the answer she did have...

Nodding as if she'd suspected as much, Fran took Emily's hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. "From what Derek's told me, I'm not altogether surprised that you'd think that. But I have to say, from experience, it's better to care and let people care about you in return. Yes, you risk getting hurt, but the alternative is to never feel anything at all..."

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," Emily said, voice barely there at all.

"You can't wish for that," Fran said with surprising strength behind the statement. Shrinking in on herself slightly, Emily mumbled an apology. "I'm sorry," Fran said, seeing Emily's reaction, "I didn't mean to be short with you." She paused, inhaled slowly, then – softer than before, "I know what it's like... What you're feeling. I've been you, Emily."

Emily lifted her gaze from where she was picking at her nails, searching for something in Fran's eyes, though she couldn't have articulated what. "You..." she started, faltered, apparently unable to say the actual words aloud.

"I had a miscarriage," she said quietly, "Before Sarah was born. Before Hank and I got married, actually."

Mouth hanging open slightly, Emily spent several long moments struggling for something to say, but finding herself uncharacteristically silent. "I'm sorry," is what she eventually settled on, though she knew it was tragically underwhelming.

She smiled her appreciation. "I feared he would leave me when he found out, that he was only marrying me because of the pregnancy. Obviously that wasn't the case, but it certainly wasn't easy on our relationship."

Emily winced, not knowing how to respond to that, fearing she'd say the wrong thing if she tried. Afterall, she and Derek were in a very different place in their relationship, if it could be called such a thing. She could hardly tell Fran that random hook-ups was a far cry from engagement, though, so she said nothing.

"You and Derek are going to need to rely on each other, in order to get through this," she advised. "No one understands what you're going through quite like he does."

"How did you get through it?" she asked, finally finding her voice.

"Time, mostly," she said. "Some counselling." (Emily gave a small derisive snort at that, which Fran wisely chose to ignore.) "And leaning on each other. That's really all you can do."

With a sigh, Emily nodded, though she looked decidedly forlorn about the matter.

As if sensing this, Fran assured her, "You will get through this. And it will stop hurting like this...eventually. You just need to hold on for a little while."