"This," Regina hissed, snatching the paper away only to slam it back down with disdain.
The few circled vacancies stared up at her mockingly though it only made August scratch his head.
"A newspaper?"
She rolled her eyes. "I can see that, Mr. Booth."
"Mr. Booth—?" he began baffled. "What the—"
"Were you planning on telling me that you were moving out?"
"Jesus, Regina," August huffed, straightening out the paper, "I haven't even found a place yet."
"You promised Henry to teach him how to play soccer, and who's going to pick him up when he starts school again?"
Scrunching up his face, August stood, holding up a hand to collect his thoughts. "Who did it before I was here?"
"That's not the point!"
"I can still do all those things even if I live across town—are you really fighting me about this? Did you think I was going to move into your guest bedroom forever?"
"Well, I had no idea what to expect until you showed up on my porch!"
"I appreciate you taking me in, and I love you and the kid, but I need my own space."
"Fine." She grabbed the newspaper and thrust it at his chest. "Go. That's what you're good at."
"Wha—Regina?!" He walked after her when she stormed out of the living room, but he didn't get far when she slammed her office door shut and barricaded herself in there.
"Regina?" Archie crossed his legs as he sat back in his office chair. "How has this week been?"
"August is planning on leaving," she stated factually, though the twitch in her hand said otherwise.
"Where does he plan to go?"
"He's looking to rent his own place."
"That's great news," Archie praised.
"Great?" She drawled dryly. "Once again, the balance of my household is disrupted."
Archie squinted and leaned forward in his seat, planting both feet on the ground. "How so?"
"Everything was going well. I was adjusting. Henry was adjusting. I even enrolled him in horseback riding again," she explained moving her hand with every addition to the list. "Now he's going to lose Uncle August too."
"Regina," Archie said carefully. "August isn't going anywhere."
"He's leaving."
"He's moving out," the therapist clarified. With a sigh, he leaned back into the chair. "I actually think this might be good for you. With August out of the house, you'll be granted more space."
"I just told you I was in a better place, yet you want me to return to where I was? Waiting for—" She scoffed and smacked the cushion beside her with a palm. Pongo raised his head at the noise and sneezed. "I'm fine."
"You're holding onto Emma," Archie stated simply. "You cannot use August as a means to have her back."
"If you're insinuating there is any inkling of a romantic relationship going on between myself and Mr. Booth—"
"I'm not," Archie quickly reassured. "I doubt your heart would allow you that just yet. But you said he and Emma are foster siblings. There's evidently a piece of Emma within him that you're keeping close that finds comfort in the fact that he's physically there. He's not leaving, Regina. He's establishing roots in our town. You said yourself that he's got himself a job with Marco. Do you think that those are signs of his abandonment?"
"I don't understand his need for space,"she replied haughtily, ignoring his question entirely. "I have more than enough rooms to accommodate."
"He's an adult and very capable of making his own decisions."
"So was—" she stopped herself and focused on a piece of loose string stemming the stitching of the cushions. The doctor really needed new furniture.
"Regina." She looked up at his soft voice and frowned. "You've made progress, but at the same time, there's a part of you that's holding yourself back from ever fully healing."
"I'm doing everything you tell me," she sighed exasperated.
"And I'm proud of you." He leaned forward in his chair to place a palm on her knee before lowering his voice as if his words were some hidden secret. "You can say her name."
Her eyes flashed and she sat back, her breathing increasing just a second faster than average. "I do."
"Do you?" He asked. "With Henry or August? The few letters you've shared with me, I know you have no problem thinking it. In the seven months you've been coming here, you've only said her name twice. How come?"
"I can say her name." With a deep breath and heavy concentration, she spoke. "Emma." She tilted her head in minor victory.
"How was that?"
"Forced," she answered through gritted teeth.
"In more than one way?" He asked knowingly.
At Regina's pointed glare, he moved on.
"How about your friends?" Archie questioned. "Kathryn, Ruby, Tina—has your relationship with them improved since that day you admitted Emma's disappearance?"
"We speak." When Archie was silent, Regina subconsciously tugged on her necklace, her thumb circling the pendant. "I don't understand why I need to expand my social circle right away when I'm perfectly content with my life right now."
"Your social circle is your support system," he explained, though Regina internally rolled her eyes. How many times had the doctor told her that? "From my standpoint, the only thing that has changed in your life is Mr. Booth's presence, and I'm not saying that's bad. Not at all. You've still mentioned that it's difficult for you to enjoy time out with your friends, that you worry whenever Henry is out of your sight, can barely talk to him whenever he brings Emma up, and now you're scared August is going to leave you. What do you think that tells you?"
"Trust and abandonment problems?" she guessed with haughty distaste. "Unless of course you're referring to parental problems and hints of OCD."
"The former, most definitely, though we can re-visit the latter," he chuckled hoping to ease the scowl on Regina's face then cleared his throat when it only worsened. "But I think the superficial problem is that while you're happier in your home with August, you need to remember that he's not Emma."
"I know he's not," she nearly growled. "I am very much aware of the fact that although he may act as childish as his sister, he is not her. Is it a crime that I find a person whom I can stand to be around for more than a few hours at a time and be disappointed if they go?"
"Of course not," he said softly. "But the same thing is happening to you as it did when you lost your parents."
She inhaled sharply and held his stare.
"So yes, we will be dealing with your parental problems, but right now, you're closing in on yourself, keeping everyone at bay. However, this time, you have Henry and August in there with you." She let out a low breath from her nose as he continued. "I ask again, have you been talking to Henry about her?"
She lowered her voice. "He asks about her all the time."
"But do you bring Emma up?" At Regina's silence he continued. "It's easier, especially with someone linked as closely to Emma as August is, to lose yourself in a familiar distraction. One never really wants to give in to grief."
She shut her eyes. "Must you call it that?"
He looked surprise. "Is there another word you find more appropriate?"
"Just—not that."
Archie nodded and made a note in his book.
She shut her eyes and leaned back against the couch. "This is taking too long."
"There's no deadline for you to meet," he reminded her. "There's no contract or requirements. It takes time."
Time, she laughed bitterly to herself. It was always about that, wasn't it? The wrong time, the right time,making the time right, waiting for time to pass yet wanting it to slow down. She sat up with a tired sigh, flipping her bangs out of her eyes. "What else can I do?"
Regina hated when other people were right, but as soon as Dr. Hopper explained to her how deflecting was in the same family as denial, she braced herself one afternoon when August had taken Henry to the park and opened her closet to pull out the hidden bag of Emma's belongings.
She kneeled by the floor, and with shaky hands, pulled the string of the bag and released the pictures it held. Her fingers skimmed over the glossy print of the photograph. It was creased at the edges and folded in corners from overuse. Her and Emma sitting in her living room as the blonde held the camera above them to snap the shot after Regina noticed they hadn't had a picture together.
Let's fix that.
Regina's heart clenched as she sat back on her knees and brought the picture closer to her. She shuddered. The last time she had seen Emma, the blonde was sitting in front of a camera, greeting Henry happy birthday and saying so much with her eyes that her mouth wasn't allowed to voice.
Twenty-seven months ago.
The tears that sprang to her eyes couldn't be controlled as she pressed her free hand to her mouth to reign in her gasps at the reality of the situation. Twenty-seven months and she was gaining the courage to look upon Emma's face only now. Guilt plagued her being as a tear landed right on Emma's smile. She nearly forgot the way green eyes crinkled at the corners whenever she was laughing or happy. The fact that they were nearly always like that whenever they were together made her heart ache.
Why did she wait so long to look at her? To see Emma. How awful was she that she was mad and angry and hurt that Emma hadn't come home, but she couldn't even bear to look at a picture of her? She choked on the sob that made its way up her throat.
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