Perspective

Chapter 9

                 

Regina could see the confusion flood Mary-Margret's eyes. The goal was to tell her about the dream, without mentioning Emma of course, but it was harder than she originally anticipated. The entire story left Mary-Margret staring at the mayor with her head titled and one eyebrow raised. 

            "I'm not quite sure I understand Regina. Can we start from the beginning?" the woman asked apologetically.

            Of course she didn't understand. Not even Regina understood the crap that came out of her own mouth. She pinched the bridge of her nose, annoyed with whole situation, and took in a deep breath.

            "It's-" Regina huffed, carefully thinking about what to say, "let's just say I-"

            "Okay Regina, how about we take this one step at a time?"

            "Alright," she agreed.

            "So you said you weren't alone in your dream, how many were you?"

            "Two, including myself."

            "What were you two doing?" Mary-Margret asked, intrigued.

            "That's none of your business," Regina snapped.

            Mary-Margret let out a sigh as she turned over to completely face the mayor and tucked both her legs beneath her, careful not to spill the coffee in her mug.

            "I can't help you if you won't tell me Regina."

            The mayor rolled her eyes, annoyed at the fact that Mary-Margret was right. Of course she had to be specific in order for the woman to help her, but how in hell was she supposed to admit something she couldn't even admit to herself?

            "Okay, since you don't want to tell me what you were doing, can you at least tell me how it made you feel?"

            Regina shot a look at the woman. She didn't even have time to process her next sentence as she blurted out, "Good...really good."

             The mayor turned her head away from Mary-Margret with such speed, she felt a small crack in her neck. Oh my God. She hadn't had the slightest clue as to where those words came from, but there they were, still floating in her mind and now out in the open for Mary-Margret to hear. The more she thought about it, the harder it got to deny. It did make her feel good, great actually, but it wasn't something she was proud of.

            "If it's something that made you happy, what's bothering you?" Mary-Margret asked, narrowing her eyes.

            "Because it's not something that's supposed to make me happy!" Regina stressed. She remained still and stared at Mary-Margret, waiting for some sort of answer, but the woman was still confused. It was written all over her face and it looked as though she had given up. The mayor sat up straight, properly facing Mary-Margret, and began to explain. "Okay", she huffed.

            "This person is not someone who normally makes me feel the way I felt, if that makes any sense."

            The woman nodded. "It makes perfect sense, go on."

            "Well...you see, we don't usually—don't ever—get along in that sense," Regina stuttered, trying as much as possible to make herself clear. Opening up to people wasn't her forte. Ever since Daniel, she vowed to keep her troubles to herself, refusing to let people in. Love is weakness, her mother had once said, and those words stuck to her like glue.  But she was absolutely right and that's what scared Regina the most. So from then on, she blocked herself off from anyone or anything she could possibly get attached to in anyway, in fear that what she loved would be taken from her yet again. Only very recently has the mayor been trying to open up again. She could only keep things bottled up for so long and frankly, she couldn't handle the loneliness anymore. Sure she had Henry and Robin, but sometimes her son was too young to understand and she sometimes felt Robin would only tell her what she wanted to hear. She needed friends, girl friends and here Mary-Margret was, offering to be one. Finally swallowing down the lump at the back of her throat, which she suspected was her abnormally large sense of pride, she brushed her fingers through her hair and glanced up at Mary-Margret.  "So I don't understand why I dreamed about her that way in the first—"