You and Tequila

Chapter Forty-Two

"Mommy?" Her puffy eyes flutter the slightest, but the weight and torment from the previous night render her heavy lids motionless. "Mommy, wake up!"

"Henry," she groans, blindly reaching over the edge of the bed and pulling her now four-year-old up and over the mattress.

She lazily pulls him flush against her chest and puckers her lips to place a tender kiss to the top of his head. Except, her baby boy isn't having any of their routine morning cuddles today, instead, he places his Woody next to his mother's ear and yanks hard on the pull-string.

"Boy am I glad to see you!" The sheriff claims with a giggle at the end that pries Emma's eyes wide open and forces her mind awake with a jolt.

"I'm hungry, mommy!"

"But mommy's tired," she whines, hugging her son even closer to her chest to soothe the tormenting ache deep within her heart.

"Pancakes! Pancakes!"

"Henry, honey," Mary Margret's gentle tone carries from the doorway and startles both mother and son, "why don't we let mommy rest this morning. I can make you pancakes," she offers as she sweeps elegantly across Emma's bedroom and scoops up her grandson, despite his protest.

"No, no, I want mommy!" He shrieks as his grandmother settles him upon her hip. "I see Regina today? I miss her," he sadly expresses just as he has been every morning for the past three months.

Every day for over one year, this little boy has grown accustomed to seeing Regina's face, even if it was only through the small screen on his mother's phone. However, one day he didn't see Regina's face or hear her kind voice and his mother explained that Regina was simply busy. Unknowingly, because four-year-olds cannot possibly understand the concept of time, three months have passed by and every day he asks for Regina and every day Emma frowns and says, "maybe tomorrow, bud."

"I know you miss her, maybe tomorrow, bud," Emma sadly lies, avoiding her son's curious eyes as she slips out of bed and busies herself with making her bed, just so she doesn't have to see that look of disappointment once again. 

And this is exactly why she never wanted to fall in love again. Not because she wouldn't be able to handle the insufferable pain, even though she is barely hanging on, but because she never wanted to bring another person into her son's life, just to rip that important person away and break his heart. He's far too young to suffer the loss of someone important and she knows one day he will stop asking about Regina and then eventually, she'll be a distant memory until his little brain can no longer hang on to such a faded time in his life. She's just terrified that deep down, someway, somehow, she damaged her baby boy and that's something she won't ever be able to forgive herself for.

"Emma, if you want to rest this morning that's alright," her mother offers while Henry wiggles down from her arms and charges out of the bedroom and back downstairs. "I know you had a rough night last night," she divulges which instantly paints Emma's cheeks a deep shade of pink.

"I'm sorry, mom, I didn't mean to keep you up," she whispers, embarrassed that her mother had to listen to her hysterically cry all night long, but Mary Margaret just waves her off.

"Nonsense. If there's anybody that understands the disappointment of a loved one over an addiction, it's me," her mother sadly acknowledges, even though she's attempting a small smile.

"Mom, I want to cave so badly and just take her back, but I know she's not going to change and I-I just..." Again those pesky tears are right on the verge of expanding into a full-blown stream and honestly, she has no idea how her tear ducts can even produce any more liquid after last night's catastrophe.