Chapter 7

seven

I always would have had your back. And I thought you'd have mine.

I think those are you problems, Emma .

Regan's words continued to ring in Emma's ears days after she'd said them. They haunted her to the point of distraction.

After Regan had thrown that ridiculous accusation at her, she'd strutted right past where Emma had sat and smartly shut her bedroom door behind her. As if to say case closed .

The kicker of it all was that Emma had been waiting for Regan to discuss their… issue. While she hadn't been willing to apologize for what she'd said, she had been willing to apologize for how Regan had taken it.

However, her reaction after Regan's spiel the other night had changed everything.

First, she'd been annoyed all over again – now Regan was telling Emma what her problems were? She was telling Emma that her very legitimate issues with Regan weren't legitimate? Where the hell did she get off?!

And she'd intended to say as much to Regan!

Only, as the days passed, Emma was finding that Regan could maintain boundaries – as long as those boundaries meant sticking to her word about ignoring Emma.

Which shouldn't bother her! That was, perhaps, the most aggravating thing of all.

Every time Regan walked past her, or they ran into one another in their apartment, Emma was filled with an anticipation she couldn't quite understand. This waiting period for Regan to say or do something… Regan-like was terrible.

It was like walking on eggshells; somehow, Emma was finding that it made their living arrangement even worse.

At least, she told herself, she used to know what to expect from Regan. Annoyed or pestered as she was, she knew what was waiting for her when she got home. There was a sense of regularity and familiarity.

Now, who knew?!

If someone had asked Emma a week ago if she believed she'd prefer to live in a situation where Regan didn't attempt to connect with her, she would have agreed the affirmative without a second thought.

It turned out – annoyingly – that was an incorrect assumption.

And Emma hated being incorrect.

How was it that Emma had moved into an apartment with three total strangers that she barely spoke to for years, and it was a less awkward living situation than what she was currently experiencing? How ?

Really, she wanted the universe to answer her.

Because, quite frankly, it wasn't fair.

That was the conclusion Emma had reached over the last few days as she'd cycled through her feelings.

It wasn't fair that she'd voiced her honest opinion about Regan – literally citing wrongdoings Regan had committed against her – only for her to end up feeling this gnawing sense of guilt afterward. Only to end up with every interaction filled with loud, unnatural silences.

Emma hadn't done anything wrong!

And yet, she was left feeling like she'd kicked a puppy. Unsure and careful in the aftermath.

This gnawing, shameful feeling had only gotten worse in the last few days.

Especially because she'd given in and opened the surprise Regan had tossed to her. Inside had been two small, delicate, beautifully ornate painted hummingbird figurines, carefully packaged in bubble wrap. Along with a note that Regan had clearly slid into the packaging after they'd been delivered –

I know these aren't the same ones I accidentally broke when you moved in, but they were the cutest ones I could find for a replacement. They're from a little shop in Alaska, isn't that cool! They custom-make every order, which is why these took a little while to come in.

I've decided to name them Thomasina (Thom) and Geri – the female Tom and Jerry, if you will. I think they're very representative of you and me.

(obviously, you're Tom)

Your favorite roommate, even though you can't admit it (yet),

Regan

And, fine. Regan replacing the hummingbirds that she broke was… sweet. Unsurprisingly sweet. But – she was only replacing them because she broke them in the first place!

She'd tried to thank Regan two days ago, only to be given a dismissive smile in response.

Everything about this situation was ridiculous and annoying, and, most bizarrely of all, it was starting to distract her at work.

Every time her phone buzzed and alerted her to a text message, as it just had, Emma felt compelled to check it right away.

Was it Regan? Was she going to be the one to break? Was she finally going to give Emma back some semblance of normalcy and ask if Emma wanted to do pedicures or have a movie night or something?

But Emma didn't even want to do those things! So, why was she anticipating the texts?

It was starting to make her feel crazy. Absolutely, entirely out of her mind.

Because, as Regan had promised, she was giving Emma exactly what she'd asked for multiple times. She was acting as a roommate and nothing more.

Her phone buzzed again in her desk drawer, and Emma – who had been diligently reading through the portfolios for the Alton Fellowship, because she only had a couple of weeks to weed through literal thousands of applicants – couldn't help how her hand twitched to check it.

Even though she resolutely never checked her personal texts when she was busy at work. Never.

"Oh my god , just answer it. Please," Brynn's exasperated encouragement reached Emma from a few feet away, where she sat at her own desk. "Please, answer it."

Emma felt herself blush – annoying – and she cleared her throat. "What?"

Brynn rolled her eyes but kept her voice hushed as they were both aware of Allegra's open office door. "Your phone."

"How can you hear it? It's on silent." Emma could barely hear when it vibrated, and she was right next to it.

"I can't ," Brynn stressed, throwing her hands into the air. "But every single time you've gotten a text in the last few days, you lift your hand over the drawer your phone is in." Brynn mimicked Emma's hand, freezing it before she could open it the drawer. "And then you hesitate like this." She stared, with exaggerated intent, at the drawer. "Like, is this some sort of situation where someone offered you ten million dollars, but only if you press the button to kill someone, and that button is on your phone?"

Emma was not going to dignify that with a response. Instead, she dropped her hand into her lap, away from where it had been hovering next to the drawer handle. Caught.

Closing her eyes tightly, she debated whether to say anything, but the need to talk about the situation won out.

Quickly, she looked at Allegra through the glass wall and noted that she didn't seem perturbed by their quiet conversation.

She might as well go for it, she supposed. "I'm having some trouble with my–"

"Girlfriend," Brynn cut in, nodding sagely and looking remarkably more interested. "Go on."

Emma reeled back, shaking her head. "Uh, no. No, no."

Brynn leaned back, clearly surprised. "Really? I thought I got that sapphic vibe from you."

"I mean, yes, I date women." Not so much recently, but Emma had never discussed her dating life at work, and she sure as hell wasn't going to start now. "But – no. This is about my roommate." She couldn't help but frown as she questioned, "God, why does everyone assume that when Regan comes up?"

"Because," Brynn gestured to Emma's face with the pen she held in her hand. "That whole demeanor you have going on, all bothered under the collar and whatnot, doesn't read as just a roommate problems. Regardless, you have my attention."

"Yes, do go on," Allegra's clear, cutting tone startled them as she stood in her doorway, arms crossed.

Despite the glass walls, Emma had no idea when Allegra had stood and walked over toward them. Judging by Brynn's wide-eyed expression, she hadn't noticed, either.

Even more mortified than before, Emma wanted to shrink back into her seat and cover her face with her hands. She didn't , but only because a sense of self-preservation kept her sitting with perfect posture.

"I'm sorry, Allegra," she apologized, grateful her voice came out louder than a whisper. "I'll get back to work."

"Why stop on my account? You didn't seem to have reservations a moment ago when I could still hear you, only from several feet farther away."

Unsure of what her boss was getting at – was she being uncharacteristically sarcastic? Typically, Allegra was very direct – Emma couldn't help but squirm in her seat.

Allegra arched an eyebrow, dark gaze boring into her. "Well? Brynn and I are waiting for the conclusion to the conundrum that has had you distracted all week."

Emma wanted to murder Regan for being the root cause of this.

As her stomach tied in uncertain knots, she realized that was the root of her issue.

"Ah… right," Emma slowly began, darting her gaze to Brynn to check that she was reading the situation correctly and that Allegra genuinely wanted her to continue. Brynn, unhelpfully, looked just as unsure as Emma. "Well, my roommate and I have never really gotten along. Strictly speaking."

Allegra nodded, waving her on.

"Then why did you move in together in the first place?" Brynn cut in before she widened her eyes at Allegra. "Sorry to prolong the story. Emma told me she'd just moved in with this new roommate a few weeks ago."

"No, context is important. Do tell," Allegra… ordered?

Order or not, Emma felt compelled to answer, "We have a friend in common." It was the easiest, simplest explanation. "She's on a prolonged internship, and I didn't love my living situation, before."

"So, you asked to move in with your current roommate," Allegra asserted.

"No, actually. She asked me to move in," Emma corrected. "Because… well, because she knew how much I didn't enjoy my previous living arrangement."

As she finished the statement, she spoke slowly, as if hearing the words for the first time.

But – it was the truth.

Regan didn't have to ask Emma to move in while Sutton was away. Their apartment, in their neighborhood? She could have gotten a ton of applicants who would have paid far more than Emma was.

"And the problem is?" Allegra's exacting voice cut into her thoughts.

Emma blinked at her boss as her stomach sank even lower than it had already been.

"The problem is that I think I might have been the cause of several of our issues in ways I hadn't thought of before. Which means," she had to pause, accepting the truth as she was being faced with saying it aloud, "That I might have been wrong about her , too. And I was made aware of it because we had a–"

"Brawl," Brynn supplied, "Emotionally, anyway, given I see no bruises on your person."

"An altercation," Emma corrected, shooting Brynn a what the fuck look. "In which I think I finally crossed a line with her."

"I see. And now, she's making your living situation untenable?" Allegra asked.

Emma started to nod before she caught herself. "Not really. Not in a technical sense."

Because Regan hadn't attempted to make Emma leave the apartment or anything like that.

No. What was becoming distressingly uncomfortable, she realized at this very moment, was that living with this – this pod person version of Regan was starting to feel untenable.

"You have a simple solution, Emma," Allegra stated, pushing herself away from the doorway. "You have a journalism degree and want to pursue publishing as a career, correct?"

Skeptical as to how they correlated, Emma nodded in agreement.

"As such, you shouldn't be afraid of the truth. And pursuing the truth may often mean facing facts you're uncomfortable with – including facts such as realizing you were wrong." Allegra nodded once, firmly, as if she'd given Emma the keys to the kingdom. "What you do with truths once you face them, well, that is where the world gets interesting, isn't it?"

Maybe she had given Emma the keys.

"Now that we've worked through your problem – undoubtedly faster as a trio – I think you can decide what to do with your newfound truth after work, no?" Allegra lifted her eyebrows as she gave Emma and Brynn a look before turning to walk to her desk.

Emma would never let it be said that Allegra wasn't exceedingly fair. Or exceedingly correct.

Upon returning to the apartment, she knew that Regan wasn't scheduled to get home for another couple of hours.

She also knew that it was time to call in the big guns.

Because Allegra was right; it was time for Emma to figure out what to do post Regan's bombshells earlier this week.

Taking a deep breath as nerves tangled in her stomach, she sat on the side of her bed.

And called Sutton.

Emma eyed the time as the call started to ring; it would be a little after midnight in Rome. But it was also a Friday, so she was hoping Sutton might still be awake and up for a chat.

She was proven correct only seconds later, as Sutton picked up, "Emma! It's great to get a call from you!"

Emma sighed, taking some comfort in Sutton's genuine warmth. It was a quality Sutton had – this kindness to her that she'd always found so appealing. "Hey. Yeah, I'm sorry it's so late. I just got home from work."

"It's completely fine; I have a video date with Charlotte in half an hour, so I was still awake." Emma found the sweet, undeniable excitement in her voice even more comforting for some reason.

"That's great. I'm glad you two figured out a system." She meant that. Though she'd been skeptical of Charlotte's intentions, she was slowly coming around to her. After all, it had been Emma's couch Sutton had sought refuge on when Charlotte had broken her heart earlier this year. Emma wouldn't say she had many protective instincts, but she'd certainly felt protective when Sutton had shown up on her doorstep, looking utterly wrecked. "How is everything over there? I got your text the other day with the pictures of the first edition library."

The wonder mixed with envy in her tone was unavoidable. Because it was precisely what she felt every time Sutton shared her experience through pictures or social media posts. A raw desire to share in that experience, herself, and amazement for Sutton being able to be there.

Sutton laughed, sounding utterly exhilarated. "It's beautiful . I mean – the hours are nuts, and there are so many rules to follow, but it's… well, you know from our texts."

"Yeah." Despite the envy she felt, she found herself smiling slightly, as she often did with Sutton. Seeing Sutton, one of the only people Emma counted as a true friend, thriving was deeply satisfying, no matter what.

"I'm always happy to hear from you," Sutton started, her tone cautious. "But… you don't usually call, especially without texting first. Which – it's one hundred percent fine for you to do!" She was quick to assure – typical Sutton. "I just can't help but wonder if everything's okay?"

Ah, and there it was. Somehow, Sutton could be both incredibly obtuse and perceptive, depending on the situation. In this situation, it seemed perceptive won out.

Even though this was the entire reason Emma had called, she was hesitant. Unable to voice anything about Regan.

Because if there was one thing she knew to be certain about Sutton Spencer, it was that she deeply loved Regan Gallagher.

Something told Emma that while Sutton was casually dismissive/exasperated by her and Regan's usual bickering, she wasn't going to be pleased with Emma truly hurting Regan's feelings. And she found that she didn't want Sutton to be upset with her.

Something in her silence seemed to alarm Sutton. She took a sharp breath, all hint of light-heartedness falling away as she asked, "Is Regan okay?"

Emma pulled the phone away from her ear, staring at it incredulously. There was no way Sutton had heard her thoughts, right?

Or – more likely – Regan had already informed Sutton that this situation wasn't going well, and Sutton was asking this as a way to get Emma talking.

Before she could explain herself, Sutton was speaking again, her words tumbling quickly out of her mouth. "God, I've just been so busy this week, so I haven't even had time to think about it, but she hasn't called me in days! Not since last weekend. Emma, is she okay?" Sutton repeated, even more concerned than she'd been a minute ago.

Regan hadn't even called Sutton this week?! Fuck, if Emma needed further confirmation that she'd well and truly hurt Regan, there it was.

And, as she let out a defeated breath, she slumped in her bed. It did not feel good. Kicked puppy, to the max.

Still, "She's fine," she assured. Before doubt edged in, and she bit her bottom lip. "Physically, that is."

Sutton's worry clearly receded, "Whew. Okay. Good." There was only a moment's pause before she followed up. "Wait. Physically ?"

Emma winced. "Yeah…"

Even though everything inside her did not want to tell Sutton what had played out between them, she did. She left out the fake dating part because she hadn't been exaggerating to Regan when she'd said the fewer people that knew about that humiliating lie, the better.

After relaying the events from earlier this week, she waited with her stomach tied in nerves.

For several beats, Sutton was quiet, and it was far from a companionable silence.

"I see." Was all Sutton said when she did speak.

Even though it was literally only two syllables, Emma realized that was all she needed to hear Sutton's anger. Because Sutton was not quick to anger – in fact, she wasn't sure she'd ever seen or heard Sutton truly mad .

It was even more jarring when she realized Sutton's newfound anger was directed at her . "I didn't mean it the way she took it," she defended, feeling unbelievably lame.

Sutton was quiet for several more beats before she drew in a long breath and then let it slowly out. "I don't believe you wouldn't intentionally be mean," she allowed, and Emma was so grateful that the heat in her tone had cooled.

"But… Emma, Regan is my best friend," Sutton stated, her voice low and serious.

"I know," Emma agreed in confusion. Of course she knew that, though. Everyone with eyes knew that.

"Regan is my best friend," Sutton repeated intently. "I want you to think about that for a second. Because I know she can be… a lot," she settled on. "But, if you respect and trust me, I hope you understand that I would have never been Regan's best friend for two decades if she wasn't a good person. Maybe even the best person."

All right, Emma most definitely wasn't going to agree that Regan was the best person she knew, but that didn't mean that Sutton's words weren't twisting the knife in her stomach even deeper.

Ugh . Because somewhere inside, even when she was incredibly annoyed at Regan, she knew that Sutton was speaking the truth.

"I know," she quietly admitted.

And maybe that was why she'd been feeling so terrible, she realized, feeling that weight bearing down on her.

Because while she had been telling the truth and merely stating the facts about their interactions from her perspective the other night, she knew that Regan wasn't wrong. She'd known if she was forced to admit it to herself, that very night after Regan had quietly leveled with her, that she'd been so focused on her own tunnel vision, she'd deliberately never looked at anything from Regan's point of view.

Deep down, she knew Regan was never intentionally causing her harm.

She knew that Regan hadn't meant to spill the coffee on her the first time they'd met. She knew Regan hadn't intentionally broken her grandmother's hummingbirds. She definitely knew that Regan hadn't meant to send her to the hospital with her almond flour.

Regan was, at her core, someone who constantly tried . Just like she'd said. Every time something went disastrously wrong between them, it was because Regan was trying to do something kind. Trying to make her dinner, trying to help her move. Trying to "save Emma from third-degree burns" or whatever Regan had thought was happening with the coffee.

And now… now that Regan was actively refusing to let Emma smooth things over and move on, she'd had to spend days reckoning with the ugly truth that Regan was right.

Emma never gave Regan the benefit of the doubt. She never tried with her.

And, most distressingly, she found that she didn't want to be that person.

" Please believe me when I tell you – I've been trying to figure out how to make it up to her."

Granted, those attempts had mostly been spending time in their shared living spaces and hoping Regan would come to her and act normally. But Emma didn't know what else to do when Regan didn't seem interested in a simple apology!

"Why?" Sutton asked, surprising her.

"Why… what?"

"Why are you trying to make it up to her? Why are you trying to bring her back around when it sounds like you finally got what you wanted out of this living situation?" Sutton wasn't being mean or taunting; her tone was genuinely questioning.

Emma found, at that moment, that she didn't immediately have an answer.

"I mean, is it just because you feel guilty?" Sutton pressed. "Because, if so, you could just write Regan an apology note and go on with your day."

"I guess," she acknowledged. "Though, she doesn't seem to want an apology?"

"… So?" Sutton asked. "Emma, your entire relationship with Regan has never been based on what Regan wants. If you feel bad, and all you want from this situation is for her to know that you didn't mean what you said, then make the apology and move on."

Sutton's advice was sound. There was not a single incorrect component here.

And yet, Emma found that it wasn't sitting right with her. The idea was, alarmingly, very unappealing, which was why she hadn't done so already. "That doesn't feel like enough."

"But why?" Sutton pressed.

Had she taken some sort of interrogation lesson from Charlotte or something?!

"I think," she began, feeling uncharacteristically and uncomfortably nervous with the reality starting to set in. "That I regret not giving Regan a chance."

Emma's eyes opened widely in wonder and surprise at the truth of those words.

Because – yes. That was exactly it.

She regretted their fallout not just because she felt bad about hurting Regan's feelings. But because now that Regan wasn't making any overtures toward her, she felt like she'd made a mistake. Like she'd missed out on something.

There was a reason Sutton loved Regan so fiercely. And Regan had been offering Emma an opportunity this entire time for her to really understand why, but she'd been so determined not to take it.

And now that the olive branch was no longer available and she'd been given a swift kick in the ass out of her stubbornness, Emma missed it.

She bit her lip to hold back the groan. Oh, god , Regan was right. They were the female, real-life incarnates of Tom and Jerry. Emma, like Tom, was listless and unhappy without Jerry as a constant presence.

"All right, then," Sutton murmured. There was satisfaction in her voice, and her previous irritation at Emma was now completely – thankfully – gone.

Emma couldn't help but feel like Sutton had gotten Emma to admit something she'd already anticipated.

"Now that we've gotten somewhere, what I can tell you is this – Regan might appear to you to be shallow or superfluous. But she is actually really great at reading people. And if she believes that you're just spewing words at her and she doesn't think you're being sincere in trying to apologize, she's not going to really accept it."

Emma was already slowly nodding in acceptance before Sutton had finished speaking. She supposed that was what Regan had said the other night – not that she didn't want an apology, but that she didn't want an empty one.

"All right," she quietly mused. "Thanks for the chat. And – I'm going to fix it," she asserted.

If there was one thing Emma was great at, it was completing an assigned task. And this was now at the top of her list.

She had to be genuine. She had to try .

Emma refused to let nerves get the better of her, so she stood her ground in the living room as she heard Regan open the front door.

Though, the idea of slipping the note she'd written to accompany this apology under Regan's door felt more and more appealing as the oncoming embarrassment started to set in with Regan's footsteps coming closer.

She steeled herself, jumping into action as soon as Regan walked into the living room so that she couldn't back out.

"I know you don't want to hear an empty apology, so… I'm not giving you one," she started. She closed her eyes, gripping with everything she had to her resolve to do what she'd planned on.

She lifted Mr. Cuddles in front of her, clearing her throat as she dipped her voice a few octaves and spoke through him. " This is what Mr. Cuddles voice sounds like. And Emma wants you to know that she really is sorry."

Cheeks burning, she quickly lowered the bear, though still found comfort in stroking her fingers through his fur, as she continued in her normal voice, "I'm sorry not only for what I said the other day but also… because you were right. My issues with you are largely because of my own perception, and I've never really given you the benefit of the doubt."

Swallowing hard, she looked down at her own hands, rubbing her thumb over Mr. Cuddles' ear. "The truth is that I haven't tried with anyone in a while. I haven't wanted to."

This bear that she was clutching was proof of that. How very little had she tried with her own mother?

"Letting people in is really hard for me," she admitted, her voice falling hoarse. "There have been a lot of times in my life when I do let someone in and try with them, and it never goes well."

Kimberly, again, popped into her thoughts. Along with a handful of the kids she'd gone to school with, then Felicity… she shook her head – yeah, she was most definitely not sharing those parts with Regan.

Swallowing thickly, she looked back up, meeting Regan's wide, surprised stare with her own. "I've never had a roommate that wanted to spend time with me the way you do," Emma admitted softly, her stomach twisting with the truth of the words. "I've never really met anyone that seems to want to get to know me the way you do."

She'd meant to say that part jokingly, but it came out leaving her feeling unexpectedly vulnerable.

Trying to push through that feeling as quickly as possible, she added, "And I think I've dug my heels in even harder with you because I don't understand why you feel that way, especially when all I've done is push you away. So, it makes me feel… uncomfortable. And a little…"

"Prickly," Regan supplied encouragingly.

Emma narrowed her eyes as she corrected, "Guarded."

And when Regan brightly grinned, Emma didn't feel the immediate urge to glare. Which was new.

Maybe this whole facing the truth thing had some merit.

"And, I guess…" She felt she had to admit it because this was the moment of truth. "We kind of are Thom and Geri."

The grin on Regan's face grew to a nearly blinding wattage, and Emma didn't quite understand the relief she felt in seeing it.

"I guess I've never known when to quit," Regan admitted, her voice soft. There was no showing of bravado as her smile dimmed slightly. "I honestly think that because you seemed so resistant to me, I put in even more time and energy trying to get you to like me. Which, is crazy." She breathed out a quiet, self-deprecating laugh. "And I'm sure that roots back into my own… stuff." She gestured vaguely with her hand before letting it fall to her side.

Emma's eyebrows lifted in unexpected interest. That felt like a different side of Regan that she'd never seen before.

Feeling bolstered by it, she pushed herself to finish her peace offering. "To show you that I'm making a good faith effort and not just giving you lip service to try to get you to move on from the other day, I'm offering you a full day hang out."

It did scare her a bit to say those words. Mostly because she still thought Regan was a wild card, and Emma didn't like unpredictability.

But, she had to admit that seeing the way Regan's dark eyes widened with surprised delight made her breathe a little easier as she pushed through that feeling.

"Nothing crazy," she was quick to warn. "I'm not taking a road trip with you. We will not be leaving the city." She'd heard Sutton's cautionary tales of Regan getting them lost far too many times. "And I'm not joining any clubs or downloading any apps."

Again, she'd been in the same social circle as Regan for too long and had heard of far too many stories to be truly comfortable letting Regan run rampant with no parameters for their full-day hang out. She may feel contrite and she wanted to make things right with Regan, but she still had her limits.

"Deal!" Regan pounced on the offer, reaching out her hand.

Emma studied the offered hand skeptically as wariness rose inside of her. "A part of me feels like I'm making a deal with the devil, but…"

She slid her hand into Regan's, startlingly aware of how soft and comfortably warm Regan's palm was against her own.

"Please," Regan scoffed. "You flatter me; I'm merely a humble servant to Lucifer." She tightened her grip on Emma's hand, and her strength was surprising. "I have to tell you: I'd already forgiven you after you spoke through Mr. Cuddles. But I appreciate everything else you shared with it."

Emma groaned loudly, feeling that sense of embarrassment return, which only made Regan laugh. And she'd admit, if only to herself, that she was relieved by the sound.

Still, she tightened her grip back and arched an eyebrow at Regan. "We never speak of the Mr. Cuddles thing to anyone else."

"It's between you, me, and the bear. Scout's honor."