Andrew is already asleep by the time Belle is ready for bed, lying with his back to her and the lamp off.
She lets out a weary sigh as she takes off her robe and slips between the cool sheets. For a moment there she thought things might be changing between them. She should know better. Nothing in Storybrooke ever seems to change. That's a funny thought. Maybe in order to change the world around her, she has to change. With that in mind, Izzy reaches a hand out to card through her husband's hair. She almost thinks she feels him shiver beneath her touch, but his breathing is slow and uninterrupted so she must have imagined it. She places a gentle kiss on his cheek anyway.
"Goodnight."
Izzy wakes the next morning to bright sunlight streaming through the blinds, and immediately realizes she is warmer than usual. Her husband's arm is slung around her waist, her back tight against his front as he slumbers, his warm breath tickling the back of her neck.
Izzy can't remember ever waking up in her husband's arms, but it's a nice feeling. Unfortunately, nature calls and she doesn't want to wake up Andrew by dislodging his arm. Slowly she wriggled away trying to slip under his arm, but his hold tightened around her pulling her flush against his chest. Of course Andrew would choose the most inopportune time to become more affectionate. Letting out a small sigh, Izzy wriggled again only to realize her backside had come into contact with something hard and stiff poking her in the lower back. Stifling a gasp, Izzy tried to move herself away from her husband's erection.
"Stop wiggling, you'll just make it worse." Her husband said sleepily.
Glancing over her shoulder, Izzy thought she spied a slight grin on her husband's face.
"Well let me go and I'll stop wiggling."
"Nah. Don't want to. You have to say the magic word," his sleepy brogue muddling his words.
"If you don't let me go, I'm going to pee on you."
"Aye, that'll do it." Andrew said finally cracking an eye open to look at her.
Relinquishing her at long last, Izzy made a dash to the bathroom.
What had come over Andrew in the past 24 hours? He was acting like a completely different person. Perhaps the idea of his wife leaving him had triggered something in him. But no, he had been acting strangely prior to seeing her bag in the hallway. Izzy splashed cool water on her face before heading back to the bedroom. In truth she was eager to see where the morning could lead if she played along with her husband's strange mood.
Unfortunately Gold was gone from the bed by the time she finished in the washroom. She could hear the shower running from the hall bath.
Trying to stifle her disappointment, Izzy retreated back to the master bathroom to prepare for the day.
Rumplestiltskin vaguely wondered if it was possible to drown his pathetic, mortal body in the warm spray from the showerhead.
When he'd first awoken this morning with the feel of Belle pressed against him, he'd thought he was dreaming. It wouldn't have been the first time. In the lonely years after he'd forced her from the castle, he'd often dreamt of waking in a similar fashion.
Fuck. When he was the Dark One, Rumple had never had to worry about stupid mortal things like a weak ankle or accidently poking your true love – who doesn't remember she's your true love – in the back with your erection.
Rumple leaned his head against the cool tile wall. Izzy wanted to talk this morning. He had no idea what to say to her to explain his behavior. He knew exactly what he wanted to say to Belle. He'd had years to think that over, alone in his castle. He would tell her that she was right. That he was a coward, that he was sorry, and most of all that he loved her.
But he couldn't say all that to Izzy. She wouldn't know what he was talking about. And Andrew Gold had never once told Izzy that he loved her.
Rumplestiltskin felt a wave of revulsion for the man he'd been for the past 28 years. What kind of wanker has the love of a woman like Belle, and doesn't get down on his knees and worship her every single day.
Well the easy answer to that question is Rumplestiltskin himself. Hadn't he done the same thing?
Andrew Gold had done nothing worse than ignore Izzy for the duration of their relationship. What Rumplestiltskin had done was so much worse.
He could thank Regina for Gold's disinterest and the state of his marriage. All she knew of the institution was a disinterested, uncaring husband and an isolated wife. He doubted Regina could ever conjure the image of a happy marriage, and even if she could the curse bent to her will. No more happy endings.
Well he couldn't spend the entire day in the shower. Switching off the tap, Rumple dried himself off and dressed for the day.
Taking a look in the mirror for the first time since awakening was a bit of a shock. Staring back at him was a face he hadn't seen in close to three hundred years. He was just as thoroughly unimpressive as he remembered. Short and thin from years of malnutrition, shaggy greying brown hair, lines prematurely marring his face. He'd only been about forty when he took on the Dark One curse, but years of hard living had made him look older. The dark circles under his eyes from a restless night's sleep weren't helping matters.
Rumple had grown used to scales, reptilian eyes and ruined teeth, an outside image to match the darkness within. It was a façade developed to deter people, keep them on their guard and out of his way. And hadn't Belle just barreled through that carefully constructed image like a wrecking ball.
With a sigh, Rumple turned away from his reflection and headed down the stairs to start the day. Belle – Izzy – wasn't down yet, so he pulled a few eggs, mushrooms, cheese and peppers from the refrigerator and started on her breakfast.
The curse was designed to keep all under it from finding happiness, but by God if he couldn't make Belle an omelet.
By the time Izzy had made her way downstairs, dressed in a rose-colored skirt, navy blouse, and as always, smelling like lilacs, Rumple was just finishing up on the bacon.
"What's all this?" Izzy asked, not even trying to mask her confusion at seeing her husband donning an apron over his impeccable Dolce & Gabbana suit and dishing up a full breakfast for her.
"I was ready before you, it only seemed fair I make breakfast," he said with a slight smile. "There's tea in the pot if you'd like some."
Izzy edged her way to the teapot, pouring herself a cup while still looking warily at her husband.
"What happened to you last night, Andrew?"
Gold just shrugged, before setting two plates down on the kitchen island and gesturing for Izzy to sit and eat.
"Can't a man make breakfast for his wife without an interrogation?"
Izzy felt her irritation starting to rise.
"I'm not talking about just breakfast," Izzy said, spearing a forkful of egg. "When you came home last night you were a mess. You seemed surprised to see me, that I was alive. What happened?"
Gold sighed and rubbed at his eyes wearily. "Sweetheart, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with."
"Excuse me? If you're in some kind of trouble, it definitely concerns me."
"Trouble?" Gold shook his head. "No darling, you're perfectly safe. It's just some personal business you needn't worry about."
That was the last straw. Izzy shoved her half eaten breakfast away angrily.
"You scared me half to death last night. You come home acting like a completely different person, there has to be a reason for that Andrew!" Izzy stood up from her stool at the island and backed away from her husband. "I said I'd stay and we could try to work this thing out, but how can we do that if you're keeping secrets from me?"
"Please, darling, you have to believe me when I say if I could tell you, I would." Gold said, advancing toward her with his hands up in supplication. "But for now, I just can't. You have to trust me."
Izzy's blue eyes flashed. "Trust you? You have to earn my trust, Gold." She spun on her heel, headed toward the foyer.
"Belle, please, wait!" he called, limping after her.
At that, Izzy rounded on him. "That's another thing. Who the fuck is Belle? You've never called me that before last night."
Gold just stood there silently, hand clenched around the gold handle of his cane, eyes wide and beseeching as if begging Izzy to understand. But she didn't understand. None of this made sense. His behavior in the past 24 hours had been unpredictable and frankly terrifying. Izzy had grown used to her cold, distant husband. She hadn't been happy, but at least she'd known firmly where their relationship stood. Now she just felt confused and angry.
"I'm walking to work today," Izzy said, trying to calm herself. "If you pull your head out of your ass, you know where to find me."
Grabbing her coat and purse, Izzy stormed out of the house and slammed the door behind her. She could have sworn she heard the sound of smashing china as she left.