Emma smiled at him, squeezing his hand in return. She was grateful that he wasn't laughing at her, but she felt a pang when he mentioned choices.

"Everyone makes choices, good, bad and everything in between. It's what you do after that counts," She stated softly but firmly.

Emma shrugged her shoulders some. "I went back home, and you got shot by some psycho bitch, left me again, and Neal died in my arms. This is better don't you think?"