Chapter 7: The Reluctant Wife
Married.
The whole thing still didn't resonate with her. It probably never would resonate with her, Emma thought.
It had threw off everything she had believed for the past ten years.
She knew she should be relieved. After all, finding out she had a long lost husband who looked like he could be Loki from The Avengers long lost twin brother minus the horns should've helped her.
All those nightmares about Ralph Miller, she shouldn't have them anymore since she hadn't been raped.
But it didn't help. She still had the same recurring nightmare that she had for so many years these past ten years. Where she was helpless and she could feel Ralph groping her and then—then finally when she managed to open her eyes all she wanted to do was hurl.
At least he wasn't there yet.
Harry.
He was supposed to come to the Storybrooke house this afternoon, so they could start their supposed sham as a happily married couple so that they'd have a chance at pursing custody of Jaime.
Emma shook her head as she finally managed to empty the entire contents of her stomach out.
Since finding HJ, she had lost a good ten or so pounds. She hated this. While she had been relieved to find her son, it felt like she regressed a lot to what she had been. She needed to talk to someone of the therapist persuasion soon, she thought as she took one of the anti-anxiety medications she was prescribed.
She tried to take her mind off of things. She was supposed to have coffee with Henry's teacher this morning—Margret Mary or was it Mary Margret. Yes, Mary Margret. That name was a mouthful to say, but Emma was glad she had that to keep up her mind off of things. She had already found enough excuses such as ordering things to get the firm into order and furthermore with the house.
She had already drafted a petition to challenge Regina's stupid zoning order to keep the house the rancid pink color. She was hoping that she could get a variance to at least paint it red because really—pink.
She frowned as she looked in her closest trying to find something appropriate to have coffee in NOT something appropriate to be meeting with your supposed husband.
Seriously, husband.
She still didn't see her married especially to that guy.
Not that Harry was that bad looking, it was just—Emma didn't even know. She didn't even really have a type. She just didn't do relationships, at least for the past ten years. And before, well, it wouldn't have been with someone who looked, well, so well grounded.
Ford hadn't told her much about Harry, other than the fact the man had a government job, and he had seemed like a bit of a workaholic from the one time they had coffee with each other. Honestly, the guys that Emma was with when she did relationships were sort of losers so why would she got to someone who apparently got a degree from fucking Cambridge?
She shook her head as she dabbed concealer around her eyes. She didn't have time for this right now. She had a coffee date to attend to.
In the end, she just wore another pair of jeans and a blouse that she normally would only wear on the weekend. Being a DA with frequent court appearances meant she wore suits most days of the weeks. However, since she currently had no cases she was going to avoid the skirt suit and for that matter the pantsuit as much as she could.
Plus, it was coffee AND she knew that when her dearest husband came in, she'd probably at least offer him to move things and wearing pantyhose and shoes weren't exactly ideal attire.
The coffee place turned out to be Granny's. It seemed to be the only place that this town offered. Though, Emma did pass a sad looking Chinese food restaurant on her way over and the waitress did mention that there was a fancy fine dining place called The Rose.
"I'm surprised you're still here," Ruby—the waitress—said. "I thought you were going back to Boston after you dropped off Henry."
"HJ." Emma said, "And I got a job offer."
"A job offer. Here? Really. You know Mayor Mills has this rule about convicts and—"
Emma rolled her eyes. "If you would've eavesdropped better, you would've known that Regina was overreacting. I have been exonerated. Google it, if you don't believe me. Now I want one of those mochas, with cinnamon. Don't skimp."
"Okay," Ruby said. "Really, though no need to get all grumpy."
Emma rolled her eyes hardly thinking she was grumpy as she waited for Mary Margret and checked her emails.
There wasn't many. Not on her personal account. Her old work account had hundred of messages, it kept her busy. Her personal life though, pretty much sucked. There were two that stuck out.
The first was from Ford confirming their dinner date in a few weeks. That one wasn't bad, Emma was actually looking forward to that
It was weird how a friendship could evolve over something so horrible, Emma thought. Ford seemed to be one of the only few people Emma could talk to these days, her friends at the office had their own lives and cases and honestly Emma didn't want to bother them with this mess. Because who would believe it.
"Emma?"
It wasn't Mary Margret. Rather, her son. Emma looked around seeing if his barracuda of—no, Regina was not his mother she knew that much.
"She's not here if you're wondering," Jaime said. "And before you go off about school, it's a holiday. Columbus Day."
"Oh," Emma said. "I thought that was celebrated on Monday."
"We have Friday and Monday off." Jaime said with a shrug. "Well, the kids do. The teachers have some conferences. But whatever. What are you doing here alone?"
"I was actually supposed to meet someone here." Emma said as HJ motioned Ruby to come over and promptly ordered himself a chocolate shake with cinnamon.
Well, at least he got something from her.
Though, he did look a lot like her, Emma thought as she took in her son. He did have Harry's eyes that was for sure. And there was something about his mannerisms—
"Emma?"
"Hmm, kid."
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I just, I would've thought Mary Margret would've been here by now. She said nine."
It was almost ten.
Jaime frowned and mumbled something under his breath.
"What's that?" Emma asked.
"I said it's probably Regina," Jaime said. "She practically has Mary Margret as her whipping person. A shame because she is good teacher and pretty nice. She makes a mean cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon."
Emma sighed. She knew that Jaime was probably right, but at the same time she didn't want to further alienate him from Regina. "Maybe she got caught up in a meeting. Do you have her number, I'll text her?"
Jaime laughed. "I doubt she can text."
"Don't be ridiculous, HJ." Emma said. "She's not that old."
"Fine," He said. "I'll give you her number, but she won't be coming if Regina didn't sanction it. No one does anything if Regina doesn't sanction it. That's why she's mayor."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Mayors don't have that much power, HJ. Plus, this is America. Not a Regina dictatorship."
He laughed as Ruby delivered him his chocolate shake. "Extra cinnamon just like you asked, Henry."
"HJ." He said, "Remember, we made a deal about your tips, Ruby. Because you didn't call me by my name, I'm afraid you're going to be forfeiting yours."
She groaned and turned to Emma, "This is what I was talking about the other day."
Emma halfway ignored her. Her attention was focused on the phone. She had not gotten a reply yet.
Maybe Jaime was right.
God, didn't anyone in this town stand up to that barracuda?
"So, what is the deal with your mother?" He asked.
"You," He said. "I haven't figured that out yet."
"HJ." Emma said.
"Jaime." He corrected. "Although, at least you're not using Henry so that's a plus. But I know, you were talking about Regina. I don't know what her deal is really—she just has a way about scaring people."
Emma shook her head as Ruby brought over a bill. "I don't think your friend is coming and you look about done with that mocha."
"Gee, thanks Ruby." Emma said rolling her eyes. "Put HJ's bill on mine, okay."
"No," HJ said. Put Emma's bill on my tab."
"HJ," Emma said beginning to lecture him when good old Sheriff Graham came into the diner.
Inwardly she rolled her eyes but outwardly she smiled.
"Emma, just the person I wanted to see." The sheriff said.
Out of the corner of her eye, Emma could've sworn she saw HJ roll his eyes as he slurped his chocolate shake. "I don't think Emma wants a booty call like Regina does, Graham."
The sheriff turned a shade of raspberry that would've been sort of amusing, if it didn't disturb Emma so much that her ten-year-old was well apt to the language of booty calls.
"Don't be ridiculous, HJ." Emma said, "I'm sure this is about business."
"It is," Graham said. "You said you were working for the Gold Law Firm?"
"Yes," Emma said trying to sound professional.
"Well, I was wondering if you could help me with one of my prisoners. Um, I'm not interrupting anything am I?"
"I just bumped into HJ," Emma said. "My coffee date actually stood me up."
"In other words, Regina got to Mary Margret." Jaime decided to join the conversation.
"Don't be ridiculous, Henry." Graham said. "I'm sure she's busy."
Jaime rolled his eyes. "Sure, just like you and my mom really play monopoly every Saturday night."
"Okay, then. Emma, want to meet your newest client?"
His name was Leroy.
It was a simple DWI. But DWI's always annoyed Emma since there was a reckless disregard for human life there and she told Leroy as much.
"Can't help that I have a drinking problem, sister." He said. "And I thought you were going to be my attorney. I have an arraignment in—what was it Graham?"
"An hour and forty-five minutes," The sheriff said. "You up for this, Emma?"
She looked at Leroy. Cases like his weren't exactly her favorite to take, but she knew when she got into law school that there would be some cases that she didn't like. God knows, she didn't like her job at the DA much either.
She sighed heavily. "If I take your case, you're off the sauce until we're done you understand."
He rolled his eyes, "Sure, sure."
"I'm serious," Emma said. "I don't want to hear about you going to—"
She looked at Graham, "The Rabbit Hole."
"Really?" She said, "The Rabbit Hole? Does someone have an Alice in Wonderland fetish here? You know what, never mind. I need to go home and change. I'll see you in the courthouse then."
Emma shook her head, as she walked out of the courthouse. Despite the fact that Leroy was not a flight risk, the judge had claimed that he was dangerous to society and denied bail. She was also questioned her qualifications amongst other things, and warned her that Storybrooke did not look kindly to outsiders.
Needless to say, Emma had objected a lot and was planning on calling the local bar association not to complain about the judge.
She shook her head as she walked out wanting to get another coffee. This was not how she wanted to start her career in Storybrooke.
It was really Leroy who she felt for and had went back to the police station to talk to Graham about it.
"Don't feel too bad about it," Graham said motioning her into his tiny office. "You did your best. And think about it this way, Leroy won't be going to the Rabbit Hole."
"That really doesn't help," Emma said frowning. "I failed at my job, Graham."
He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry. I thought you did great if its of any use."
She shook her head.
Nothing would help, she felt bad about Leroy. But again, this had all of Regina's fingerprints over it and all she could think of was the impending custody suite that she was filing. She didn't even think that Gold could make leeway with Judge Deville.
"How about I buy you a drink?" Graham said.
"What?" Emma was caught off guard.
"You had a rotten day," He said. "And, well, I want to cheer you up. Besides, I like you."
"You're sleeping with Regina," Emma said bluntly.
Graham sighed. "Of course, you had to bring that up. This isn't a date, Emma. I really just want to know you. And, well, I feel you'll need a designated driver."
"Good," She said. "Because I don't do dates."
He took her to the same bar that Grumpy had gotten drunk off his ass at. Since Emma was planning on getting drunk off of her ass too, she gave Graham her car keys. "Make sure, I get home okay." She said.
He laughed. "Well, at least you're being responsible."
"Being incarcerated illegally for seven months tends to take out any streak of rebellion you might have in you." She said as the bartender delivered her first tequila shot.
Graham sighed, "It still gets to you, doesn't it?"
"Every single day, especially days like today." Emma said after she polished off the first drink. "Leroy is an idiot, but he should've gotten bail. I know murderers who have gotten bail. All of this is because Regina has her panties in a wad because of me, isn't it?"
"Well, Colette was an old college roommate of hers." Graham said with a shrug. "So, it's not that surprising."
Emma laughed at this point she had finished her second shot.
"What?" Graham asked.
"You're just as bad as the rest," Emma said.
"I hardly ruined your case. I agree what Judge Deville did was wrong, but there's not much I can do."
"Oh, you know it's not about Judge Deville violating about three or four rules of judicial conduct. It's about Regina."
He sighed heavily. "She's just difficult to know. Once you know her—"
"Oh, cut the crap, Graham." Emma said a little bit more vocal now due to the liquor. "You know that's not it. She hates me, and she intends to destroy me and she uses you and everyone else in town to do it. Look at Jaime's teacher, she was supposed to meet me coffee and one call from Regina and bam—the only one with balls in this town is Ford. And you know what, he left because he couldn't handle this shit."
Graham just sort of stared at her for a second before he said, "Seriously, you are not saying that Rumford Ford is a better man than me."
"Oh, don't trash Ford." Emma heard herself saying. "He has done a shit ton more for me than you ever had. If it wasn't for him, I'd still be doing prison time for a crime I didn't commit. You suspected something and didn't do jack shit."
Graham paled a bit.
"Yeah, I thought so." Emma said as she finished that shot—she honestly, was starting to lose count but it didn't matter. All she knew that she loved the feeling of tequila going down her throat. The slight burning sensation, the feeling of freedom to say whatever she wanted. Damn the consequences.
Graham didn't say anything for a while before he said, "I'm sorry."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Sure you are, until Queen Regina says otherwise. I'm sorry, but your apologies don't mean shit to me. Shit really does seem to describe you a lot."
Graham looked at her, "I'll prove myself to you."
Emma started laughing. She couldn't help it. It might've been the booze, but there was something just ridiculous about this whole thing. Maybe it was what Graham said. There was no doubt about it that she had trust issues. She was very well of that. Her therapist had mentioned it in pretty much every session, and who the hell could blame her after what she'd been through. And here was this guy, Graham, Regina's boy toy promising that he'd prove herself to her.
Ridiculous.
"You think I'm joking?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "Maybe no joking, but being delusional a definite yes."
Graham shook his head. "Is it that hard to believe that you can trust me?"
Emma didn't say anything but take another shot.
Emma hardly ever got drunk. When you went to law school you developed a high tolerance for liquor. It was sort of a right of passage. After reading so many personal injury cases, you had to have something to help you get through the fact that a large percentage of humanity were greedy son of a bitches. Plus, Emma found that it was more respectable to drink booze than to take her tablets.
She hadn't gotten drunk since first year, she thought, as Graham helped her home.
"I really appreciate this." She said.
"It's the least I can do." He said as he turned onto the street where Gold's house was location. Wait, was this the street? Emma really didn't know she didn't care.
Emma laughed.
"I really want you to trust me," He said before adding, "Like I said before, I like you Emma."
He had stopped the door. All she could do was stare at him, "You barely know me." She slurred.
"I want to get to know you more." He said putting his hand out.
"I got to go." Emma said as she reached for the handle of the car because there was no way in hell she was dong this. She had thought the drink was only a meeting of friends. Hell, Graham was sleeping with Regina and he had admitted as much. "Thanks for driving me home. I'll come to the station tomorrow to get my keys and check on Leroy."
"You sure you can stand up?" Graham asked. "You seemed a little wobbly—and I think you have company. That's your driveway isn't it? I didn't think you had a Cadillac."
"I don't." Emma said her stomach sinking knowing just whose Cadillac SUV that was—Harry's.
"Maybe I should check out the place." Graham said going into protective mode.
"I'll be fine," Emma said just wanting to get the hell out of there.
She didn't know what the deal was with the guy, but she didn't like him. "Besides, I'm sure you have to get ready for tomorrow. You know, it's Saturday."
He gulped. "Emma, I—"
"Yeah, I don't do casual." She snapped as she got out of the truck only to find that she somehow managed not to estimate the distance between the truck and the ground that well and found that she somehow managed to twist her ankle and ruin one of the Kate Spade heels she was wearing.
She bit her tongue trying to keep herself from cursing. The last thing she wanted or needed was for Graham to have a reason to act like a knight and shining armor. At least that was one good thing about prison, it gave her high pain tolerance.
"You okay?"
"Dandy," she smiled.
She managed to keep up the act until he was gone, but God it was difficult. Walking those last few steps took more than a little out of her and then, of course, she couldn't find her keys.
She inwardly cursed. Logically, she knew she could ring the doorbell. Harry was most likely in the house—asleep, probably—but he still could let her in. But Emma didn't want to do that, she really didn't want to deal with anyone.
So, she ended up there in the dark thumbing around in her purse. She wondered why Graham had to just take her word for it. At this point, she could've handled him being a little gallivant only because she felt like a complete idiot looking for keys while being completely drunk off her ass.
Couldn't he tell she was limping or that her stupid shoe broke?
God, these things were fucking expensive. Almost three hundred dollars a pair. She hated spending money on them, and now she had to get another fucking pair so she'd look presentable in court since she doubted tennis shoes or boots would be considered appropriate attire.
Finally she found her keys, as she managed to get in only before she could open the door she found it was being open.
The first thing she noticed was how bright the light was. How stinking bright it was. She really wondered how long she had been out there. The next thing she noticed were the leather loafers, which she promptly puked on.
The person who owned said loafers didn't get mad though. "Emma?"
"Don't." She said as she tried to wobble in. She didn't get that far until he caught her.
He smelt like an odd combination of mint and pine. She liked it.
She shook her head.
Honestly, it might've been better if Graham had carried her across the threshold. She had forgotten how awkward things were with her long lost husband. It also didn't help that said loafers she soon found out were house shoes and that Harry was already in his bathrobe and pajamas which had some weird looking symbol stitched on them it looked vaguely like some bird attacking a snake of sorts.
"Family crest," Harry said as he helped her to the couch. "I'm going to get you some ice and coffee."
"I'm fine," she snapped.
"No," He said. "You're not. You twisted your ankle and your wasted."
"I don't get wasted." She said.
However, by that point he was gone.
Had she been sober, she would've noticed that a lot of the clutter had been picked up since she left. As it was though, all Emma could wonder was why someone would wear loafers for house shoes.
She started to doze off when he came back with the strongest smelling coffee Emma had ever smelt and some ice.
"Drink this," Harry said. "I am not going to have you passed out on the couch tonight. It's bad enough you came home hammered. If Regina caught wind—"
"Regina can go fuck herself." Emma said though she took the coffee and drank it and suddenly felt all the effects of being drunk being drained from her. "Dear lord, what is that?"
She could now see Harry clearly no longer through tequila glasses and he shook his head at her. "It's some strong coffee, that's all you need to know. Your ankle doesn't look like it's been broke. I think soaking it might make it manageable."
Emma blinked as she looked at the place, "You've been busy."
"Really." He said. "That's all you're going to say."
"I had a rough day," Emma said with a sigh. "A friend took me out drinking, don't worry I didn't drive."
"I didn't think you did." Her husband said. "Though, I was worried about you. You should've left a note."
"Seriously?" Emma said. "I am a big girl, Harry. I've been living just fine by myself for the past twenty-eight years no need to start leaving notes now."
"You knew I was coming today," He said. "Common courtesy would've been at least to text. And it sort of ruins the picture we want to send Regina with you just coming in here drunk—"
"Please," Emma said. "I doubt getting drinks with the sheriff is going to have me declared unfit."
"The sheriff. Are you serious?"
"I told you I had the ultimate designated driver." Emma said wishing she could get up to end this fiasco. "I had a disastrous day in court and Graham offered me a drink. I sort of needed it."
Harry shook his head, "I'm calling Ford in the morning. This is bad."
"You're overreacting," Emma said.
At least that's what she thought until she saw the paper the next morning.