Recuérdame

Emma (POV)

Tonight, here I am at the Rabbit Hole. In the end, I didn’t spend the afternoon with Henry—not after being such a coward and hanging up the call. I find myself surrounded by laughter and music, desperately trying to find some relief in the temporary forgetfulness that fun can offer. Ruby and Snow are beside me, their faces filled with concern disguised as smiles.

“Come on, Emma, this song is a hit,” Ruby tries to cheer me up, referring to the latest melody echoing through the venue.

My laugh is forced, more of a scoff than an expression of joy. “Yeah, ‘hit’ as in it hits you right in the head.”

Snow steps in, her tone gentle yet firm. “Emma, we’re here for you. We know it’s not easy, but you deserve to be happy.”

Her words are like a balm, though the pain persists. “I know, girls, and I appreciate it. It’s just that sometimes happiness feels like a concept meant for everyone else, not me.”

Ruby leans toward me, her voice sincere. “Forgetting isn’t easy, Emma. But Regina made her decision. You deserve someone who chooses you, without hesitation.”

Snow nods, her smile aiming to comfort. “Until that person comes along, you have us. How about we try to enjoy the night?”

I force myself to join in the chatter and laughter, but my smile is fragile, like ice under the sun. Despite their efforts, every fake laugh is a reminder of the pain I’m trying to evade.

My eyes stray toward the entrance every time it opens, half hoping and half fearing that Regina will walk in. But she doesn’t show up; she’s probably somewhere with him, building the life she chose without me. The thought of them together tightens my chest, a dull and persistent ache.

But tonight isn’t for lamenting. I promise myself I’ll try to have fun, to put aside, even if only for a few hours, the weight of my sorrow. So I take another drink, let the music envelop me, and allow myself to be swept up in the tide of laughter and dancing.

Maybe, just for tonight, I can let myself forget. Forget that the pain isn’t so sharp, that my heart isn’t fractured. Perhaps, for a few hours, I can believe that I, too, have the right to a happy ending—far from Regina’s shadow and the “what ifs.”

As I share laughter and conversations with Ruby and Snow, I notice a shift in the music at the Rabbit Hole, a more intimate rhythm inviting the crowd to draw closer and lose themselves in the melody. That’s when I sense a presence behind me, almost tangible, charged with intent.

“Enjoying the evening, Swan?” The unmistakable voice, marked by a thick accent, belongs to Hook. Without turning around, I know he’s too close, his breath brushing my neck.

Making an effort to maintain composure, I turn to face him, meeting his piercing blue eyes that always seem to harbor multiple intentions. “Shouldn’t you be out hunting for treasure, Hook? Or perhaps plotting some revenge?”

Although I try to keep my distance, his deep, contagious laugh momentarily disarms my defenses, already weakened by the alcohol. “Tonight, Swan, the only ‘treasure’ I seek is the one that insists on resisting my charms.”

Though I roll my eyes at his blatant flirtation, a part of me feels flattered by the attention. “Your ‘charms’ will need more than sailor’s lines to impress me, Hook.”

Hook leans slightly closer, his face now level with mine, the tension between us palpable. “What if we set aside the games and metaphors for a moment, Swan? The night is young, and the company, unparalleled.”

Just as I’m about to give in to the temptation of a fleeting moment of oblivion, a figure at the bar’s entrance catches my attention. Regina. Her presence cuts through the tension like a knife, and suddenly, I’m caught in the whirlwind of unresolved emotions and lost possibilities.

Hook follows my gaze, and in his expression, I see a flicker of understanding. “Looks like the night is about to get interesting, Swan.”

I nod, still keeping my eyes fixed on Regina, who seems torn between approaching and staying back. “Indeed, Hook. Some surprises can change the course of a night—or perhaps an entire life.”

The tension in the air is palpable, a mix of conflicting emotions and music that, while soft, fails to soothe the storm within me. Hook, noticing my distraction, takes the opportunity to lean in slightly, his voice low and persuasive.

“Swan, tonight isn’t about looking back. How about a dance? I promise that for a moment, everything else will fade away,” he suggests, extending his hand in a clear invitation.

For a moment, the idea of letting the music and Hook’s proximity distract me seems appealing—a simple escape from the whirlwind of thoughts about Regina and what could have been. But just as I’m about to accept, my gaze locks onto Regina’s again. She’s now watching us from the entrance, her expression unreadable.

The indecision paralyzes me. Part of me longs for the freedom Hook promises—the chance to lose myself in the dance and forget, even if only briefly, the pain and confusion. But another part, the one still holding onto hope and heartbreak for Regina, stops me, preventing me from taking that step forward.

Hook, interpreting my hesitation as acceptance, gently takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor. The music surrounds us, and for a moment, I allow the melody and Hook’s presence to distract me from reality. His movements are confident, and his presence, while not what my heart yearns for, offers temporary solace.

However, as we dance, my eyes keep searching for Regina among the crowd, torn between the desire to confront her and the fear of what such a confrontation might bring. I see her talking to Robin, her expression serene but her eyes restless, as if a part of her is elsewhere.

The song ends, and with it, the temporary bubble of forgetfulness Hook and the dance had created. I thank him with a forced smile and excuse myself, needing a moment to gather my thoughts and decide what to do next.

As I walk away, I feel Hook’s gaze on my back, but it’s the possible gaze of Regina that makes me quicken my pace, seeking refuge in the brief solitude the bar counter offers. I order a drink, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, wondering if this night will change anything between Regina and me—or if it will just be another chapter in our story of “what might have been.”

The drink arrives, and with it, a moment of decision. Should I approach Regina and face what lies between us, or is it better to keep my distance and preserve what little remains of my heart intact? As I contemplate my next move, I feel the weight of the night pressing down on me, each laugh and musical note accentuating the complexity of my feelings and the uncertainty of the path ahead.