They say time heals everything, but in some relationships, some wounds, as time pass by, become only deeper, and keep hurting, even if it's a kind of pain you're so used to that you barely pay attention to it anymore. You're resigned.

Regina Mills knows this better than anyone else. She's 34, married for six years now. She lives in a big condominium in Brooklyn with a husband who loves her. Her career as a theatrical actress is heading to a point where she can tell herself how proud and happy she is about it.

But her mother doesn't see it. Her mother still treats her like the failure of the Mills family, full of successful lawyers and surgeons. She's the black sheep of the family, just like her father was when he was alive.

"You're leaving now, mother." she repeats for the third time that morning, walking away from the woman standing in front of the kitchen table and rushing to the bathroom to get ready for work.

There is an important meeting today, someone new is joining their theatrical company, and from how Victoria, their make-up artist, talked about it, it's gonna be someone really important. So, she's not going to be late just because her mother suddenly wants to spend some quality mom-daughter time. Besides, she knows exactly what will be the main focus of their "discussion" so no, she's definetely not going to ruin her day for that.

She hears her talking with Daniel, she hears him defending heragain,and just rolls her eyes, getting dressed. Not that Daniel was against her in any way. No, he was just too good mannered to say anything bad about her mom. Regina kinda appreciated it, but sometimes she just felt helpless, with her husband never actually taking her side in front of Cora.

She shakes away those thoughts and grabs her purse and her jacket, waving at them before shutting the flat door behind her and finally leave with a sigh of frustration and relief.

"I don't need any fucking ride."

Robin punctuates, pushing not so gently away the taxi driver who has just approached him on the street. He hears him muttering some kind of insults but he can't bring himself to care as he keeps on walking on that crowded street of Manhattan. Who did that man think he was? Someone so desperate to accept a free ride just because he stopped for some minutes to rest his leg? Fucking people who can't mind their own business... And fucking leg. His fucking left leg, which has been a burden for him for the past six years.

He was never able to completely recover, after his accident. His leg was injured so bad that no rehabilitation could help a full recovery. And with that, he signed the end of his successful, action movie star career. That was the worst part of it, literally the end of his life: not being able to do his job, something that destroyed everything he was, deleting the man he was before that day of six years ago.

He hates everything and everyone, now. He hates the journalists, the photographers, the directors, the actors, the movies, his life; he hates his so called friends from the movie industry that kept offering him, some years ago, minor roles in some sugary comedy just out of compassion.

He is irritated by the fans, even if, nowadays, someone barely recognizes him. He has changed. He wears a stubble, now. He is grumpy most of the time, rarely smiles even if it's just him with his own child or wife. And, most of all, the thing that identifies him immediately now is his walk: he is a lame . Not that much to need a stick, but he can't walk straight. And that, that leg reminds him every single day of everything he could have been, everything he lost within seconds, that day.

He stops his steps once he has reached the theater building he was heading to, and slowly step on the stairs. He bit his lips for the effort his leg has to make, and hates himself for that, before pushing the door and entering the building.

That was not his kind of place, or his kind of job, actually. But he has to work, to provide for himself and the family, even if he is aware that they actually don't need more incomes at all, thanks to Theresa's job at this important art gallery. After all, she keeps telling him just that every time there are together.

He has tried theater other times, in the past two years, from when he definitely abandoned rehab, but none of his attempts has gone far, due to his temper and the easy way he loses it. But this time, he promised himself he is going to try seriously, and with that, he means a bit patiently. The role, a guitarist or something, seems interesting and so is the script, which he actually read just that morning. So now, the problem is just to meet the crew and his co-star and get along with them. If they're all like Victoria, maybe it won't be a big deal.

He sighs, walking down the dark theateras he watches two guys chatting on the stage, busy in some kind of warm up exercises. Due to the dark, he doesn't actually sees where he's putting his feet until he suddenly bump into someone and this someone just falls on him, making him lose his balance.

A scent of apple is what reaches his nose immediately, accompanied by some muttered insults clearly directed to him and a loud "Put the lights on, for God's sake!"

It's a deep, rich tone of voice, and it tickles his memories, even if he understands why only when the lights are actually back on. He watches the woman pressing her hands on his chest and pushing him away in order to try to get up. He recognizes her immediately, but she's not even looking at him. She's just busy in her attempts to get up while he feels freezing.

"Idiot! Can't you just watch your steps?! It's a theater, the entrance for us is behind the stage!"

He doesn't pronunce a single word, his eyes still wide open, as his lips, shocked.

His silence, tho, invites her to continue, as shegets upwith some difficulty and polishes offher black skirt with her hands.

"Ouch! Thanks to you I won't be able to walk for the entire day!" she yells, finally looking at him and meeting his gaze.

Robin smiles. A cold, sarcastic smile, as he gets up.

"Ouch. Thanks to you I won't be able to walk for the rest of my life."

Regina shuts up with her mouth open, her memories rushing by as she calms down her breathing, slowly recognizing that man with that unforgettable British accent.

"Robin?"