[ Raising her hands, she scrubs her palms over her face, taking a deep breath. This is driving them in circles. Unfortunately, none of her issues are as simple as merely talking them out. If they were, maybe she'd have better luck. (Probably not.)

On the other hand, she also knows that her issues aren't only affecting her: her mother, Hook, even Charles and Kate are being impacted by them at this point, and while she may have a low opinion of her own worth and has no problem subjecting herself to her pile of psychological problems, she's not so sure they'll stick around for it. And she doesn't want to lose them, let alone drag them through this ringer in the first place. ]

No. No, you're—Mary Margaret, you're fine. [ She drops her hands, sighing. ] If there's one thing I've learned from Henry, it's that sometimes, there isn't a right thing to say. [ Which is to say: Mary Margaret is right. In her own time, Emma will embrace and accept these people. Rushing herself is only stressing all of them out. It won't make it any easier.

A beat later, she drops her gaze, sighing again and gesturing with her hand at her side in soft admission, ] Or a right time to say it. [ Hedging for a moment, she eventually drags her gaze up to meet Mary Margaret's. ] I wasn't—What you heard about at the jump, it wasn't how it sounded. But … I know why it got twisted that way.

[ She tilts her head to the side, teeth grinding. ] It just wasn't Erik.