Chapter 2

The night air was warm and sultry, even long after the sun had set and they decided to walk home from the restaurant, leisurely strolling over the pavement, their arms wrapped around each other.

It wasn't often that they left their one year old daughter in the care of a babysitter, but tonight they'd had something to celebrate.

After her marriage it had quickly become clear that continuing to work at her father's flower shop wasn't an ideal situation for any of the parties involved. As much as Belle loved her father, he still had some trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that his daughter had married one of the most ill-trusted men of Storybooke and was genuinely and blissfully happy with him.
And with her degree in library science collecting dust, her husband was ready to move mountains to ensure she got the job she deserved.

When she became pregnant with their daughter the whole job search had been put on hold, as he insisted that she took it slow and didn't overtask herself.

In the end, it had been a random encounter that had resolved the entire dilemma.

He'd been in the process of selling a couple of antique books when he discovered the buyer was in fact an old college friend of him.
Pleased to have met him again and eager to renew the contact, he invited him to dinner and over cheese fondue, they got to reminisce about the past, Belle a captive audience to his friend's tales of Rowan Gold in his younger years.

After college, Isaac Heller had done well for himself and now owned one of the biggest publishing companies in Massachusetts.
When the discussion turned to books - and with two of the greatest bibliophiles he'd ever met in the same room, Gold wondered resignedly how it hadn't happened sooner - Heller was duly impressed with the vast amount and variety of books Belle had read.

When he discovered she had quite a critical mind and could easily form and defend her opinions on what she'd read, he offered her a job as an editor for his company.

It had been on a six month trial period first, but as soon as that had expired, Heller offered her the job on a permanent contract.

Since she only had to attend two or three meetings a week and could perform the majority of her tasks at home, she was still able to spend a lot of time with their daughter.
But with this new challenge in her life, Belle was thriving. She loved her job, loved getting her hands on fresh manuscripts and making suggestions on how to improve it.
Soon she became highly popular with the authors involved with H&V Publishing because of the friendly, yet critical feedback she offered.

For his part, Gold was delighted for her. He had always known his wife was brilliant and talented, but he felt privileged to see how her confidence grew even more now that she was fully valued outside their home.

Her getting a permanent contract had been the reason for their date and as they were walking across Main Street, Belle giggling happily as something he'd said, giddy from the wine and the thrill of landing her dream job, he felt completely content with the entire world.

Rubbing his hand up and down over her back, resenting the thick wool of her coat, he leaned in to press his lips against her temple.
"How about we go home and continue our celebration?" he asked quietly, his breath ghosting over her ear.

She shivered against him, wide, blue eyes finding his, beaming with happiness and a hint of arousal.

"That sounds like a wonderful suggestion," she answered playfully, her cheeks rosy. Reaching up, she planted a somewhat sloppy kiss on the underside of his jaw.
"Let's get home really quickly!"

They had just crossed the street to avoid passing The Rabbit Hole, Storybrooke's only pub that tended to attract the towns less favorable inhabitants on a Friday night when they ran into a couple of men, talking and laughing loudly as they swayed across the sidewalk, clearly inebriated.

Purely on instinct, he pulled Belle closer, only wishing to pass the men as quickly as possible.
He was about to exhale in relief as the last of three walked past them, when he turned around and ran an apprising look over his wife before his face contorted in disgust.

"Holy shit, will you look at that!" he slurred loudly and his words made the other two men stop in their tracks and turn around.

"That's hands down the ugliest thing I've seen all week!" he sneered, making a jab toward's Belle's face.

Pushing her behind him, Gold stepped forward, fury burning through his veins. "Back the hell off!" he snarled.

"Dude, do you put a paper bag over her head before your fuck her?" another of them asked, sending the other men off into a fit of rancorous laughter.

With his blood roaring in his ears and red spots dancing in front of his eyes, he lunched forwards, his fist colliding with the other man's jaw, the pain in his knuckles only fueling his intense rage.

He was barely aware of the other two men closing in on him as well, ready to strike again when a small figure appeared in front of him.

"Rowan, no!"

Through the haze of his anger and adrenaline pumping through him, he became aware of her calm, collected voice addressing the three tugs.

"Just continue on you way, neither of us want this kind of trouble."

Her hands around his fist determinedly pulled him away and as the three men started to walk, still hurling obscenities, she wrapped her arms around his waist forcing them to move as well in the opposite direction.

"Come on," she coaxed him softly, her head bumping his shoulder to persuade him to keep moving. "Let's go home."


By the time they reached their home, Rowan was still seething with anger. She could feel it in tense way he carried himself and the harsh, angry lines in his face.

In the hallway they were greeted by Grace Hatter, their fifteen year old babysitter who instantly picked up on the strained atmosphere between them.

"Did- didn't you have a good time?" she asked uncertain, her eyes flashing between them.

"Grace, could you step into the living room for a moment?" Belle asked her kindly. "I'll be with you in a second."

When the girl hurried back inside, she turned to her husband, who was still breathing heavily, his eyes flashing with rage.
"Go upstairs," she instructed him softly. "I'll pay Grace and see her out and then I'm coming up to join you."
Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips, feeling how his entire body still radiated fury, every muscle in him clenched.

But he did as she asked and started to climb up the stairs and with a sigh of relief, Belle hurried into the living room to pay and reassure the startled girl.
Grace Hatter was a lovely, patient babysitter and Rosalee adored her. It wouldn't do to lose her.

Once Grace had left, Belle went upstairs and found him sitting on the side of the bed, his suit jacket and waistcoat discarded, his hair ruffled from running his hands through it.

He still looked furious.

"Hey…" she said softly, sitting down beside him and taking his hand in hers.

"That fucking imbecile…" he hissed through clenched teeth, his hands flexing into tight fists. Her husband very rarely swore and this was just all the more proof of just how upset he was. She lifted her hand to stroke his hair and when he turned sideways, her palm curled around his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Belle," he told her hoarsely, his eyes wet and filled with pain. "You should never have to deal with this kind of insults. You're so beautiful and so lovely and no-one has the right to say otherwise…"

The most loving, doting husband in the world was apologizing for a few insults a couple of nameless idiots had hurled at her and her heart melted at his words.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and kissed him tenderly.

"I love you," he told her after she'd pulled back and rested her forehead agains this.

"I love you too," she answered, continuing to caress his hair. "And I don't care about what they said."

As she said it, she realized just how true those words were and an enormous sense of peace washed over her.
Their words hadn't hurt her, could no longer hurt her and she was just as surprised at that as he apparently was.

Her husband was looking at her as if she'd grown an extra head, his eyes wide with shock. "Belle… they… they insulted you! They said the most horrible things to you!"

"And still, I don't care," she insisted, the glow of contentment this discovery brought her warming her further.

When he continued to look doubtful, she took his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Come on."

With their hands clasped, she led him to the nursery and flicked on the low light besides her crib. Their daughter was sleeping peacefully, her short, dark curls fanned over the pillow.

"Look at her," Belle whispered quietly. "She's absolutely perfect."

"She is," he whispered back, wrapping his arm around her and she finally felt him relax somewhat.

Their daughter was the joy of his life. From the moment she had told him she was pregnant he had been beaming with happiness, as proud as a peacock.
All through her pregnancy he had treated her as if she had been a fragile porcelain doll and the look on his face when he had first felt the baby move inside her belly was one that would stay with her for the rest of her life.

But nothing would ever beat his expression of sheer, undiluted happiness when he had first seen his daughter.
Technically Rosie and been in her arms at the time, but with the way he had wrapped himself around both of them, his fingers stroking the baby's fuzzy head reverently, tears streaming down his face, he'd been holding her for the first time and nothing had ever been more beautiful.

"Don't you see?" She asked, still talking quietly as not to disturb their sleeping daughter. "I have a beautiful, precious daughter, who's as healthy as a fiddle, I have a job that I thoroughly love and makes me feel like I can tackle the world, but most of all…"

Turning around in his arms, she pressed herself agains him and stroked his face and hair lovingly.
"Most of all, I have the most amazing, loving, wonderful husband in the world who loves me and who has loved me right from the start.

What the hell do I care what a few drunken fools are saying about me?"

"You are amazing, do you know that?" he asked softly, pressing tender kisses against her brow. "I love you so much… right from the beginning… I looked at you and I was lost… you are the most beautiful, most loving woman I've ever met…"

He had told her this before of course, at various moments and in different wording, but hearing him say it now only managed to re-affirm their bond all over again.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked worriedly, cupping her face in his hand. "You don't have to be brave, sweetheart…"

"I'm not," she reassured him, nestling in his embrace. "I honestly don't care about what they said… People have said things like that to me before and worse… But what do they now? And for a long time I thought along the same lines, before I discovered it wasn't true… their words can't hurt me anymore."

"You're very wise," he told her, his voice warm with adoration and she smiled against his chest.

"Not really," she objected. "I just got very… very lucky. You were the first person who looked past my scars, including me.
You really saw me and you loved me and you gave me the courage to believe that there's more to me than a few scars… that in the end they hardly mean anything."

Pulling back, she gazed up into his suspiciously bright eyes. "You have changed everything… you gave me the world… I have you and we have our daughter… what do I care about what anyone else says?"

His lips came crashing down on hers and he kissed her with such abandon that her knees went weak and she had to cling to him to keep upright.

When they finally pulled back, he was panting and her blood was rushing. Taking a look inside the crib to ensure their daughter was still sound asleep, she grasped his hand and pulled him outside. They stumbled into the hallway and she found herself being pressed into the wall, with her husbands hands wandering eagerly over her body.

"I believe we had plans for this evening…?" he whispered, his accent thick and the fury in his eyes replaced by a look of hunger.

Joyously she wrapped her arms around his neck, shrieking in surprise when he picked her up and started to carry her towards the bedroom.

She had the most wonderful husband in the world. And that was all that mattered.


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