Agape - "an intentional response to promote well-being when responding to that which has generated ill-being."

"I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being." Rumi

Part 1/?

The letter sat in Emma's in-box on the corner of her desk at the station, along with a couple other items, notices from the State of Maine Superior Court, a uniform catalogue. Emma rarely received personal mail at the station. There was no return address. Regardless, Emma immediately recognized the looping, neat handwriting. Regina.

Emma settled into her chair, placing her boots up on the corner of her desk, reaching for her coffee mug, the one Henry had given her for Christmas that read "World's Greatest Mother."

Dear Miss Swan,

Please grant me this one indulgence, Miss Swan. Please allow me to say thank you for the gift of Henry. For nearly ten years, I had my happy ending, something denied me for so many years. Henry brought such joy and love into my life. I had been lonely for so long, Miss Swan, bereft of love and warmth. When Henry came to me, he was a bright light in an otherwise bleak existence. I had cursed us all, Miss Swan, myself included. That was an unexpected consequence, that I would be cursed along with everyone else. Only, I remembered everything from before - the loss of my true love, my loveless marriage, my mother's cruelty, my father's cowardice. I spent a lifetime in another world seeking love that was habitually and cruelly denied. Henry gave me a glimpse of what love was suppose to be - joyous, freely given, all-encompassing.

I used to wish I could pinpoint the moment I was deemed unworthy, when my destiny was determined. I suffered under the cruelty of my mother's hands, the impotence of my father's love. I watched the cold-blooded murder of my one true love. I endured a loveless marriage, submitting to the cold attentions of a husband who never bothered to utter my name in our marriage bed. I was forced to watch a young girl, responsible for my plight, grow up beloved, showered with affection, while I sat alone, cast aside, when year after year, I failed to provide the king with another heir.

We now both know when that moment was, Miss Swan.

Regardless, I take full responsibility for the havoc I caused, the lives I destroyed. I know I made choices fueled by grief and rage, that I chose to shut out any good, any spark of hope. But believe me when I say, Miss Swan, I couldn't see anything beyond my rage. I now know that every decision I made, took me further from the things I most wanted. I was so lonely, so utterly alone.

I was just as lonely here, Miss Swan, just as bereft of love. The nights were the hardest - the quiet, long nights alone. I had so wanted a child. It didn't occur to me to question Rumpelstiltskin's motives when he brought me Henry. Henry was a joy, Miss Swan. Even those tough first years, struggling to balance everything as a single mother, wishing fruitlessly for a partner to share the burden, the experience. The sleepless nights, caring for Henry on my own, teething, potty training, Henry's picky-eater phase, all of it was worth it for one of his smiles, hearing the sound of his laughter, the joy of seeing his first steps, with tears in my eyes, heart overflowing. All of it was worth it for the sight of Henry sleeping peacefully in his bed, Henry's squeals of joy on Christmas morning. Storybrooke was my fresh start, and after years of aching loneliness, Henry was my happily ever after.

So, thank you, Miss Swan for Henry.

Allow me this too, to say I'm sorry for all I put you through. Your arrival, your breaking the curse was a foregone conclusion. You could no better control your destiny than I could mine. Truth be told, my relationship with Henry had already begun to deteriorate before he brought you to Storybrooke. I can pinpoint the exact moment in this world I became unworthy in Henry's eyes - that book your mother gave him was the beginning of the end of my happy ending. Henry pulled away from me so swiftly, it literally left me reeling. And you, your presence in my town, on my walkway, in my study, in my son's life, you embodied a direct threat to all that I held dear. You must understand, Miss Swan, I had no other option but to eliminate you from the equation. The curse had begun to fray at the edges. It was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down around me. I couldn't bear the thought of losing again. Of having love ripped from me again. I couldn't undo the curse, couldn't undo all I had wrought in our home world. There was no way out for me. I had no choice but to try to keep the curse intact. But like so much sand, it was all rapidly slipping through my fingers.

I'm sure you'll find this hard to believe, but I was once a young girl, filled with hope, heart so full with love, Miss Swan. Daniel, my True Love, I wanted nothing more than to be his wife, to give myself to him, to bear his children, to live a simple life, filled with love and laughter. When it was all ripped from me, when true love's kiss failed to bring him back to me, all hope was crushed in me. My time as a dutiful wife to your grandfather was no more successful than my time as a dutiful daughter at the hands of my mercurial mother. Your mother's betrayal, which I clung tenaciously to as the root of my misery, your mother, I now realize was just a pawn in my mother's scheming, just as I was. Even if Daniel and I had escaped that night, I know my mother would have stopped at nothing to reclaim me. My happiness was never in the cards.

Thank you, Miss Swan for providing me with the brief spell of happiness I experienced in the bleak existence that was my life.

Now that Rumpelstiltskin has been defeated, I can finally rest. I've waited for the opportunity to atone for what I've done. I know it's a mere pittance that comes no where near filling the deep chasm that holds my crimes. Now, I can finally rest.

Take care of Henry. Tell him I loved him as best as I could, and that I'm sorry it wasn't nearly what he deserved.

Happy Mother's Day, Miss Swan.

Regina

Emma whipped around, her crown of golden curls twirling around her head. She gaped at the calendar hanging on the wall behind her desk. Mother's Day. Tomorrow was Mother's Day.

There was no post mark on the envelope. Estéban, the town's lone letter carrier must have picked the letter up from Regina's that morning, but instead of taking it to the town's Post Office, he'd simply delivered it to the station, along with the rest of the day's mail. It was Saturday, the day before Mother's Day. Regina intended for Emma to receive this letter on Monday, when it would have been too late.

It was Saturday, the day before Mother's Day. Emma began praying to whatever deity would listen, "Please, don't let it be too late, for Henry's sake!" The small voice inside Emma's head whispered softly, for my sake too.