In progress

Chapter 4

Regina sat in her car, the engine's gentle purr providing a comforting background noise as she mulled over the conversation she had just had with Emma. The rain continued to fall in a steady rhythm, a soothing sound against the roof of her car.

As she replayed the conversation in her mind, Regina couldn't shake the feeling of curiosity that tugged at her thoughts. Who was the mysterious person that had captured Emma's attention so completely? Moreover, why did they seem to have such a profound effect on her young student?

The mention of "they" and "them" in Emma's words sparked Regina's curiosity, igniting a desire to know more. However, she quickly quelled the impulse, reminding herself that Emma had already opened up to her in a way that was both surprising and deeply personal.

Regina knew pressing the subject further could risk Emma clamming up once again, shutting herself off from the very support she seemed to need. Therefore, with a sigh of resignation, Regina decided to let the matter rest for now.

Stepping out of her car, Regina ventured into her home, the grandeur of the mansion surrounding her like a familiar embrace. She couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the sanctuary that awaited her within those walls, a refuge from the storm raging outside.

As Regina shed her coat and made her way further into the house, her thoughts drifted back to Emma. She wondered how her blonde student was faring, if she had made it home safely in the midst of the downpour.

Regina made a mental note to check in with Emma the next day, to ensure that she was all right and to offer any support she might need. Despite the boundaries that existed between them as teacher and student, Regina felt a growing sense of responsibility towards Emma – one that went beyond the confines of the classroom.

Regina's footsteps echoed through the vast halls of her mansion as she made her way to the kitchen, the weight of her solitude pressing down on her shoulders like a heavy burden. The grandeur of her home, once a source of pride, now served only to amplify her sense of emptiness.

As she prepared a simple meal for herself, Regina couldn't shake the feeling of longing that gnawed at her insides. It wasn't just the absence of company that weighed on her—it was the absence of someone to share her life with, someone to fill the empty spaces in her house and her heart.

It didn't feel like a home, no a home felt like... Regina didn't necessarily know what home felt like anymore, but she knew it wasn't the feeling residing inside her. She thought back to a definition of home she had always cherished and resonated within her: Home is, when you're not there, you just miss it. Nothing more, nothing less. A place one would miss deeply, in their heart, when one wasn't there, and desperately wanted, no needed, to get back to. It was not the same feeling as missing time spent on a great vacation or anything of the sorts; no, it was a much deeper sense of longing always present until one would find their way back to their home.

That specific longing was something Regina was all too familiar with – she longed, deeply, for a home not just a luxurious house with more than enough materialistic things. To Regina, her house was nothing more than a gilded cage, a testament to her loneliness. No amount of material wealth could fill the void that consumed her, leaving her yearning for something – or someone – that seemed forever out of reach.

She longed for someone whom she could share, not only the house, but also her life. Someone to come home to, someone to cook for, someone to share a simple meal, someone next to her when she went to bed at night, and someone who would, still, be there when she awoke the next morning. That was what Regina was longing for the most in her life, but that someone seemed non-existing, at least for her.

With a heavy sigh, Regina set her meal aside, her appetite diminished by the weight of her melancholy thoughts. She wandered through the empty rooms of her mansion, the silence oppressive in its intensity.