TRIGGER WARNING: Severe spousal abuse and flashbacks of child abuse.

When the affair went public, she thought her life was over. In a way, it was. Her public life, though mostly a lie, was what she'd known best, and that was dead. The masquerade, the façade, the veil she used to conceal the truth and keep herself from feeling, was shattered. It left her in pieces. As though the affair itself was not enough, she had to find out about it from the tabloids. A meddlesome reporter had discovered her husband's infidelity, and rather than inform her discretely out of respect, he sold the story for all it was worth. In doing so, he broke her, in more ways than he knew.

Her husband, Robin, was the CEO of an enormous financial company whose stock continued to soar every quarter. They were more than well off. They were wealthy. Though Regina Mills, the daughter of a famous actress, had been given her own personal fortune as an inheritance from her mother after her passing, her own worth increased tenfold upon marrying the suave, handsome millionaire. Of course, this wasn't why she married him, but it made them a power couple that exerted influence in the media, business, and politics. To him, though she had her degree in law from Harvard University, she was a trophy wife. Before marrying him, she had been perfectly capable of independence. Now… Now, things were different.

At first, their marriage was fulfilling, filled with passion and lovemaking, but very quickly, Regina felt the emptiness grow as she became isolated and neglected by her husband. Still, she never could have imagined him cheating. Never, she'd told herself, even though he stayed out late with God-knows-who, without her. He would never. But alas, there she was, sitting on the couch in their upscale apartment in the richest part of Boston, turning on the television and staring in horror as her husband appeared on the screen, attached at the hip to another, younger woman. More images followed, complete with shots of his lips on hers, and his hands on her hips as they leaned against the brick wall of a building downtown.

How could he have been so careless and public about his dalliance with another woman? Then, she realized that it wasn't just one woman. In the first picture, the woman had been petite and brunette, like she was. In the second, she was tall and blonde. They didn't have Regina's curves, but they were certainly beautiful, which only made the pit in her stomach sink deeper as she thought about her husband's tongue entwining with another's. How long? How long had she been sleeping beside him while he dreamed of other women? How many women? How many times? The questions burned her, and as her eyes refused to tear from the screen, she felt as though she might expel the contents of her stomach all over the pristine, perfectly steamed carpets.

But the worst part was not her husband's infidelity, though it was unexpected and truthfully quite horrifying. It was the imminent destruction of her reputation and her blurred reality. For her husband, a man of influence and power, she was sure that the dalliances would be forgotten. But for her, the woman shamed by the affairs, there was no escaping the venom of the masses. Of course, the media immediately swarmed them, asking for statements and taunting the couple until finally, Regina's husband decided to give in to the demands.

"You," the man told her sternly, cornering her in their upscale apartment, "are going to make a statement, absolving me of all guilt and denying any resentment they think you have towards me. Is that clear?"

"I… I…" she stammered, shocked by his harsh tone.

Never before had she felt intimidated by him, only ignored and neglected. Unwanted, even. Was it her body that had lost his interest so suddenly? Did he no longer find her as beautiful as he once had? Had he only married her to enhance his own reputation? As he moved closer to her with his fists clenched, eyes stony and serious, she began to cower in front of him.

"Dammit, Regina!" he shouted. "Answer me!"

"Robin, I-"

"All I want to hear is yes right now, Regina. Yes. Now, say it."

"I… Yes. Yes, I'll make a statement."

"I swear to God, if you make an ass of me or embarrass me in any way, so help me…"

"I won't!" the woman cried desperately. "I promise I won't."

"There," he said, voice dropping low as his hand unclenched and reached out to stroke her cheek, almost lovingly. "That's a good girl. Now, call the station and invite them for an interview."

"What? Here?"

"Yes, Regina. Here. You'll be giving the interview with me."

"Together?"

"That's right, dear. You think I'd let you on camera unsupervised to say whatever you'd like about me? I think not." Her eyes widened at the exertion of power before he added, "Don't think you can do better than me, Regina. No one will ever care for you like I do. And if you even think about leaving me…"

His hand quickly wrapped around her throat as he backed her against the wall, knocking her head into the framed, autographed poster from the play Les Miserables, which they'd seen together in New York City the previous summer. The brunette's stomach turned when she looked up into her husband's eyes, which were full of warning. She understood the threat.

"Do you understand?" he snapped, squeezing her tightly in his large, strong hand.

She nodded desperately, unable to speak or breathe, until he finally released her and she sank to the floor, sobbing.

As Emma Swan flicked through the television channels in her broken-down apartment in the shittiest part of Boston, she stopped when she heard the reporter say, "Our top story tonight, in the world of celebrities, CEO Robin Hood cheats on his wife, Regina Mills, the daughter of famous actress Cora Mills, with numerous women. How scandalous!"

Her eyes widened as she put her feet up on the recliner and leaned back, staring at the screen. The woman, who everyone knew, if only through the gossip of her wealthy husband, was beautiful. Emma knew this. But seeing the clips of her of her on the bright, colorful screen, rather than in the pages of a magazine, made it all the more obvious. She was exactly Emma's type. The young blonde could not tear her eyes away, no matter how hard she tried – and she did try – until the reporter finally moved on to another topic (the scandalous affair of yet another well-known power couple). This bored her, though, given that the woman was much older. Even though that couple had been together for years and had a child together, the previous woman's situation seemed more depressing. Emma imagined the pain she must feel, having lost her husband to the arms of someone else so soon (it had been only a little over a year since they'd wed).

The woman sighed and pushed a hand roughly through her hair, setting the empty box of Chinese food on the side table next to the chair. Robin Hood, CEO. What a scumbag. Eventually, after spending the next hour or so drowning out the background noise of the TV with her own thoughts, she fell asleep with the image of the man's wife behind her eyes.

"Thank you for having me on your show, Elizabeth," Regina choked out as the cameras began to roll.

Her husband squeezed her hand forcefully until it hurt. She nearly cried out, and probably would have, had she not bitten her tongue to stifle the noise. He forced a small, sweet smile at the camera, then turned to his wife, who continued to look at the reporter.

"How are you feeling, Regina?" the woman asked. "You must be going through a lot right now."

"Honestly, I'm pretty shaken up."

Robin's grip tightened, and she hiccupped from the pain.

She quickly continued, saying, "But I think this has really brought us together and given us an opportunity to heal and build our relationship."

"How interesting," the reporter mused, clearly surprised by her response. "Are you saying that what's happened is a good thing?"

Regina flashed her husband a glance, and his darkened in response, warning her silently to watch her words.

"I am, Elizabeth," she squeaked out, her voice cracking. "I think sometimes things have to get worse before they get better, and this is no exception."

"That's quite the outlook to have after such a traumatic experience. I understand that you had no idea this was all going on, before you saw it in the tabloids?"

"That's… That's correct," the brunette confessed. When Robin nudged her, though, she added, "In some ways, it's easier to find out that way than to have to hear it face-to-face. It gave me a chance to adjust before addressing the issue with him directly."

"And Robin," the reporter said, turning her attention to him. "What are your feelings about the affair?"

The man quickly replied, in a firm, confident voice, "Our relationship is strong, and this absolutely will not break us."

"Yes, but-"

"I would never leave her," Robin asserted. "And she would never leave me. Our love is too strong for that. People make mistakes, but we would never abandon each other."

When he shot his wife a subtle, nearly unnoticeable glare, she knew exactly what he meant. She wasn't leaving.

"Well, thank you for sharing that with us, you two!" the reporter said, her voice high and chipper. "We're happy to hear that things seem to be looking up for you, despite the recent… events…" Then, turning to the camera, she announced, "And now, back to Dan in the studio to talk about yesterday's Victoria's Secret fashion show!"

Emma clicked off the TV, tossed the remote on the coffee table, and let out an exasperated grunt.

"Fucking asshole," she cursed. "What a prick."

If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was a man who disrespected his wife. With a heavy sigh, she grabbed one of the empty beer bottles on the end table beside her and threw it across the room. It hit the wall beside the television, shattered, and crashed to the floor.

"You were this close to having your neck broken," Robin snarled.

His wife cowered.

"Robin, I…" she tried, but was quickly cut off by his hand crashing against her cheek.

They both knew it would leave a mark, but when she opened her mouth to speak, it didn't stop him from backhanding the other side of her face, creating a matching red blotch.

When she began to cry, he hissed, "Don't you fucking dare, cunt. This is your fault. If you weren't such a shitty fucking lay, I wouldn't have to get it elsewhere!"

Horrified by his words, Regina buried her face in her hands to hide herself from his insults. Still, he continued to berate her, until she felt she might faint from fear and regret. She'd never cried so hard in her life, and she wasn't sure if it was because her entire relationship had been a lie, or if she was simply terrified of who he'd revealed himself to be.

This went on for what felt like hours before he finally dismissed her with the order, "Get your shit out of my room. You're sleeping on the couch."

Without stopping her tears, Regina collected her pillow from their bed and a throw blanket from the closet. She cried herself to sleep on the couch.

The more time passed, the more Emma thought of the unfortunate woman, until the celebrity's misfortune consumed her every thought. It was strange, but it was all she could think about. The poor woman, degraded in such a way. It was a tragedy.