Holy Crapola I finally managed to write an update! It only took me 84 years! Hope you guys like it.
Ten
There is a special kind if discomfort in the knowledge that she's about to see him again so soon after something so raw just occurred between them, merely a few hours ago. She wants more time, honestly wants to just skip coming over for lunch entirely, wants to put another eleven years between them if she can. She is aware, though, that while she might be in need of more time, there's not much left of it.
Besides, she'd promised both boys when they'd called her this morning that she's staying for lunch and will pick up Henry, instead of having Robin drive their son to her home. And, despite not feeling very much like one right now, she's an adult. She can deal with this.
So she'd squared her shoulders and brought as much courage as she could with her as she'd climbed out of her Mercedes and made the long walk from Robin's driveway to his front door. Every step feels like she's dragging something heavy behind her, and maybe she is: all the baggage she has yet to let go.
She'd reached out to ring the doorbell, but she'd been beaten to it by the door swinging open and two very, very excited boys greeting her, jumping all around her, smiles on their little faces as they crowd her. Her son throws his arms around her waist while Robin's much smaller one halts in front of her and stares until she opens her arms. He comes barrelling into her legs, crashing into them and wrapping his own little arms around them. She chuckles, reaching out to the nearest wall to steady herself and stop from toppling over.
The two boys barely give her time to wrap her head around what's happening before they are dragging her into the house, simultaneously trying to tell her how much fun they'd had in their sleepover. She cranes her neck a bit, trying to get a glimpse of the man who owns the house, the man who owns her heart—not that she'd ever tell him that.
She wants to ask the boys but refrains, not wanting to seem or sound too eager to see him, even if she reasons to herself that it is just natural to look for the man who took care of her kid last night. Granted, he's his kid, too...but...
"He's preparing lunch in the kitchen. He's making barbecue," her son tells her, looking up at her from where he's sitting next to her on the couch, still wrapped around her. Roland is sitting on her other side and looking up at her, too, catching up on the fact that she is looking for their father.
He grins, dimples popping from the way his lips stretch. "And potatoes!" he adds enthusiastically, making Regina grin at him, her fingers pinching his chin in between.
"Roland and I can entertain ourselves, if you want to talk to Dad," Henry says, ever the perceptive child, and Regina hesitates, not really entirely sure if she doesn't want to just entertain the kids as well.
Whatever conversation she could have with their father had already been had, and whatever else they can say need not be said in front of little ears, or at least within the hearing range of little kids.
And she's not interested in rehashing everything that has already been said or making pleasant small talks they don't really mean. (She is even less interested in acknowledging that he might actually be right, that he might be on to something, because that would...that would change things and she's not ready).
"We'll behave, I promise," Henry adds when he senses his mother's hesitation. She smiles at him and shakes her head at how grown up he seems sometimes. She leans in and kisses his forehead, making him scrunch his nose, and exclaim, "Mom!"
Roland giggles as he watches them, and Regina tickles his tummy making him giggle some more before she places a soft kiss on his forehead as well. Reluctantly, she leaves the safety of the kid's company and trades it for the more dangerous waters that is their father's.
She makes her way to the kitchen and spies him working on the some pan that seems to be the way he's barbecuing the meat in lieu of the grill. She'd wondered, since it's still cold, but then again, Robin is ingenious and she shouldn't be surprised.
Quietly, she pads down to the counter, not wanting to startle him. But she should have known better.
"Roasted potatoes and broccoli okay with you?" he asks her, his back still turned, startling her instead.
She stifles her gasp, and shakes her head, biting down on her bottom lip. "No problem. Will the boys eat it?" she asks, unsure of what to say.
"Well, Roland is fond of potatoes and can stomach eating broccoli on his best days or at least he knows he has to. I gather Henry generally just eats veggies, even if they're not on pizza? That's what he said this morning when I asked." His back is still turned, and she watches the way his muscles ripple as he moves about, feels her mouth water and it's not for food.
She shakes her head though, reminds herself to reign herself in. After last night, she'd classified him as a jerk. He might be right, but still a jerk. So maybe a right jerk.
She huffs silently at her thought.
"Yeah," Regina agrees, nodding though she wonders if he can see it. "He's not picky, and I had him checked. He's not really allergic to any food."
Robin doesn't answer, just nods silently and goes back to his cooking. She remains quiet, too, wonders if she should ask to help, except the tension is thick and tangible in the room, and so she dares not speak.
It's not a very comfortable silence.
She clears her throat, breaking the silence when she can no longer stomach it. "Do you need any help?" she asks finally.
He turns finally, and Regina can honestly swear she's knocked back on her seat. She remembers quite clearly how insanely attractive Robin is. She'd been on the receiving end of his charm once upon a time, and she's never really reminded how good looking he is, with his sparkling blue eyes and deep, deep dimples. She's seen him through the years, too, despite not really wanting to, and age and time have both been very kind to him. His hair and scruff are peppered with grey, but he looks as handsome as he's always been, maybe even more, and the lines in his eyes just make him more attractive. He looks wiser, looks like he's lived a life and had not been afraid to, looks like he's had some fun, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.
God, she needs to stop feeling like this with her son's father.
It's not going to happen.
They might still feel something for each other, and she's accepted that he's always going to be the love of her life, but it's a long time ago now. Time has passed, and they'd missed their chance. Or at least, that's what she tells herself to justify her actions and her fears. She's not the same 18 year old girl, terrified to tell her mother and father she's knocked up, she does not really have to live the same fears: of her son being ripped away from her, and her lover pushed as far away from her as possible. She's thirty with a life of her own and all the power she needs, should she want to break free from her parents' clasp, but sometimes, when she lays awake in her bed (like last night), ruminating and wasting time pining for the life she could have had, she realizes how much risk it would be to take the gamble and bet her heart on the same man twice. She'd barely survived losing him once, if she loses him again for some reason, she's not going to live. She knows so. So it's better this way.
"Regina?" she hears him say, making her snap out of her reverie. She looks at him fully and finds his face contorted with something akin to concern and confusion. "I said I got the food handled, and you can set the table with the boys if you'd like to."
She shakes herself out of her thoughts and nods at him, smiling a little. "Okay, I'd like to," she tells him, and then pushes herself out of the kitchen to where the boys are currently playing with Roland's legos.
"Henry, Roland," she calls them, trying to get their attention. Both boys look at her and then stand up, abandoning the toy. She's going to have to talk to them about leaving their toys unattended and not returned to their rightful places later, but for now, she takes both their hands and lead them to the kitchen. "Let's set the table okay?"
Both boys nod, and with Robin's directives of where most things are stowed away, they make quick work of setting the table. They finish just in time for Robin to plate everything and Regina helps him bring everything to dining table. Robin doesn't say anything but moves around her and with the kids underfoot, carefully extracts the lemonade he'd made earlier on from the fridge. They spend the next hour eating with the boys dominating most of the conversation. Just as well, because Regina doesn't really know what to say.
She settles for stealing glances at him, looking away when he turns to her. Her gaze never strays too far away though, and she finds herself questioning if protecting her heart from not getting broken is worth it after all.
. . . .
The boys had been promptly excused and told to play with their toys in the living room by Regina. She had not said a single word to him, and had only quietly gathered the plates on a pile, carrying it over to the sink. When he'd heard the sound of the water going, he'd been snapped into action, and he'd stood up from his chair, the legs scraping loudly against the tiled floor.
He makes his way to the sink and asks her politely to leave it to him, but she shakes her head, tells him it's the least she can do after he'd made lunch, and should he want to help, he can go and tend to the tables. Not wanting to start another argument, he follows along her suggestion and walks back to the table, taking what's left of their lunch and packing it to be stored away in the fridge.
He helps her with the dishes when he's done, and apart from a short side glance, she doesn't acknowledge his presence. It's unnerving. He knows words have been exchanged the night before. Words...words that should have been exchanged, if you ask him, but maybe a bit differently—to that he's acquiescing at least.
He understands her fears, and even if he doesn't or didn't, he accepts them. He knows it's not easy for her, it's not that much of a walk in the park for him either, but he's willing to take that plunge, willing to take risks for her because he knows she's worth it. The family they have always dreamt of is within their reach, if they just stop being afraid. He just needs her to see that.
He really wishes he can tell himself that he knows exactly how to do that, but with the state of things, with Regina wanting to hide from the truth and the reality that they are meant to be, and not to speak of the years and years that they have been apart...he knows he's not entirely equipped to convince Regina.
He turns to look at her as she takes a glass and washes it. She could use the dishwasher, they both know that, but years of knowing her that cleaning is a chore that soothes her, no matter how unlikely, and it makes him a bit relieved that it's not changed even now. At least, there is a part of her that he still knows.
"There's ice cream in the fridge, think I can feed the boys with it and not regret it?" he asks her, keeping his voice light, not really wanting to trigger her into running away again, because obviously, they still need to talk.
She smiles despite herself, and nods, keeping her eyes trained on the dishes she's washing, and he stands by the threshold, watching her and the way her back is tensed like she can't relax. He tries, by god, he tries very hard, but seeing her there, her being there, evoking feelings in him that he has been trying to keep suppressed for the past eleven years, still trying to keep suppressed even now...
It's not his smartest move, he'll realize when he looks back.
But right now...right now, his feet carry him to where she is standing, eyes trained on the glass, and her back to him, and moves closer, closer till there's very little space between them, and wraps his arms around him like he's been wanting to do for so long.
He watches the glass slip from her fingers, the gasp that escapes her mouth enough to clue him in on her absolute surprise. He catches the glass before it can fall and crash on the sink. Her back becomes even more unbearably stiff, and he rubs his thumb against her wrist, willing her to relax.
"Robin," she murmurs, and he knows it, knows what he's about to say, knows that she's about to give him hell and tell him it's not a good idea, all the things he already knows and doesn't really want to hear anymore.
"I know," he murmurs right back, "I know Regina." His forehead falls against her shoulder, and his lips press a soft kiss against the material of her jumper. "But..just a moment, Regina, please...just one moment."
She doesn't say anything, but the way she relaxes, the way she melts into his arms, and lets him hold her is enough. For a moment they just stand there, him holding on to her, his nose buried to the crook of her neck, willing the world to disappear. If only it could be her and him and their boys...then life would be a lot better.
"I think one scoop each would be fine," she whispers, and it's not loud, barely even audible, but enough to break the peace around them.
As it is, the universe conspires against his happiness, and just like every moment, it's stored away in memories until it slowly fades away.
. . . .
Against her better judgment, Regina finds herself staying in Robin's house and spending more time with him and his sons. Henry had wanted to spend time thinking of what he'd wanted his room to look like in his father's house, and had asked his father to help him with themes and the like, while Roland had been very hard to refuse when he'd asked her to read to him and play with him. Before Regina had even noticed, it's already half past five, and because she doesn't want to spend another awkward time gathered round the dining table like they're some sort of family that she knows they won't be, she herds her son out of Robin's house with the promise that she will let him visit his father on any other day so they can start on bringing his bedroom to life.
Roland had been disappointed, and she loathes to upset the child when she knows why he is clinging to her like he is, but she also doesn't want the adorable kid to harbour false hopes and what this is, because even she doesn't know what it is.
Besides, she'd promised her parents she's coming along for the dinner at the house, even if she's surprised that her mother had allowed Henry to be brought along. Of course, Regina knows there is no cat in hell's chance that she's going if Cora had put her foot down and banned her son. As it is, and if not for Henry Sr.'s pleading, Regina won't have allowed it. Regina doesn't quite trust Cora.
Regina drives them home, then, and instructs her son to freshen up and wear something nice for dinner. Henry looks at her oddly, but does not say anything in the contrary and only moves to do as she asks him.
"Shoes, Henry," she yells after him as she hears his footsteps thundering up the stairs. She toes her shoes off and picks them up just as she hears her son come back down and retrieve his shoes at the foot of the stairs.
She smiles at him when they meet at the landing, and she slings an arm around him as they climb up together. She is nervous and knows that Henry is picking up on it, so she strives to keep her anxieties at bay and focuses on what could possibly be a miracle: an actual peaceful dinner.
And maybe, pigs will fly.
. . . .
Regina Mills has always been trouble for him.
Mostly because he's always been so utterly, foolishly besotted in her that it's hard to function, and it seems that he's passed it on to his sons. Well, at least he knows both Henry and Roland adore her. It is clear in the way both boys act around her. Sometimes, he'd catch both boys looking after her retreating form when she walks out of the room to do one thing or the other, looking like they're half scared she is about to leave them permanently.
It's endearing if it isn't so alarming. He knows they, meaning he and Regina, would have to put their weight in to make sure the boys start feeling secured around them. He worries more about Roland, knowing Regina doesn't really have any reason to make sure of his son's well-being, unlike with Henry, but Robin can see how attached Regina is becoming with Roland and Regina has always had such huge capacity for love. Despite not being sure what Regina's role would be in Roland's life (he knows what he wants her to be, but he also knows it's still up to her), he is assured that Regina would have a role in it...or at least he hopes so anyway. After all, it is inevitable, granted that Regina is the mother of his eldest son.
He hasn't given up on Regina and the love he knows is still there. He'd made a vow once, to love her forever and beyond, and he will honour that, has always honoured that. He's not about to let go now. He knows they will eventually find their way back together.
. . . .
Dinner is tensed, like always. Regina isn't sure why she's even bothered. Henry is obviously picking up on the hostile vibes around him and has been really, really, quiet, despite his grandfather coaxing him into being his usual jolly self.
Regina frowns as she looks at her mother, sitting at the head of the table, looking like she would rather that neither Regina nor Henry are there. For the past hour, they might as well have not been, as Cora has pretended so.
She's talked to neither Regina nor Henry, and has been making Henry Sr. talk to them, which is ridiculous and childish, and something Regina doesn't wish to put her son through. What had been the point of asking them to dinner if Cora's just going to treat them like dirt of her shoe?
Regina wonders when her mother had been so bitter.
When had Cora turn out to be this way?
Sure she hadn't always been the perfect mother, and from Regina's formative years to present, she'd learned more to ask for the advice of Mama Odie than her own mother, but Cora hasn't always been so...cold, so heartless. She'd been a mother before, she'd been hard to talk to, but at least Regina has always been able to talk to her. Cora had been busy, too, running the bank, but she'd found the time to be a mom to Regina and her sister, but lately, Cora seems like she's even forgotten how to be herself.
Regina can't help but blame herself. It's her fault, after all, when she'd gone and gotten herself pregnant. Cora had plans for her, plans that despite the roundabout way that she'd wanted Regina to go through, had not included Regina getting pregnant right after high school.
And so, yes, maybe that's her fault, but Regina doesn't regret it. In fact, she regrets it even less and resents her mother even more for stealing away 10 years of the boy's life away from her.
Henry looks at her, and it's a look of utter distress and vulnerability that she hates herself further for foisting this on her son. She'd promised never to let him go through it again, to even let those kind of emotions paint his youthful face, but she'd failed him.
She smiles at him, or at least tries to, and gives him a subtle nod. She'll get herself and her son out of her, and maybe suggest to have lunch or brunch with her father some other day. Some other day, when mother isn't there to dampen everything with her sour mood.
She is thinking of excuses she can use to get out of here with her son in tow, when Mrs. Potts and her companion come in and gather the plates they've used. Mrs. Potts sends her a sympathetic smile discreetly as mother leans back and looks at the servants cleaning up their dinner. When Mrs. Potts and the other girl cleans everything out and walks away, after mother makes sure everything is to her satisfaction, Mother stands up and walks out of the room without another word, fully expecting her dinner companions to follow her.
Regina throws her father a helpless look, watches as he shakes his head, defeated. Her heart sinks to her stomach, and sinks further when she turns her gaze at her son who's looking as miserable as she feels inside. She'd had decades of hiding her misery, but her son barely has had 20 minutes.
She feels her father's hand on her back and she looks up at him with a sad look, but acquiesces. She turns to her son and gestures for him to go with them, fully knowing that she should just leave but not knowing how to end this miserable night without making her mother's ire grow even more. Her mother might not deserve it, but Regina doesn't want her to be any more upset than she already is.
In the end, she'll be the one to suffer, and it might be a tad bit selfish of her, but she just needs them to make it through this night, and then she will never subject her son through this again.
Maybe next time Mother asks them to come over for dinner, she'll ask Robin to take Henry for the night.
It would disappoint Daddy a tiny bit, but it's a small price to pay for the well-being of her son, isn't it? Besides, she'd be there to keep Daddy company. That should be enough.
"You really ought to date again, Regina. You don't want to end up alone in her 30s, with a son to boot," Mother says, breaking through her haze (she hadn't even realized that she's now seated). Regina looks up and spies her father now playing a game of chess with her son, and mother is seating across her, a perpetually annoyed look etched on her face. "You don't want your son to end up not having a father, he's a growing boy."
Regina fights the scoff that she really wants to let out. Of course, now Mother is concerned about the grandson she hadn't wanted in the first place, going as far as lying to Regina about him being dead just to get rid of him. All at once, Regina is reminded why she had wanted mother out of her life for good. But there is her son to think about, and despite very rough beginnings, she does want him to have a sort of relationship with them. Her father, mostly, but of course, Mother and Daddy are a package.
"My son has a father," Regina tells her mother instead, levelling Cora with a stare that leaves her no room for misinterpretation. "And he has a good one."
Cora raises an eyebrow, scorn pulling her lips down into a frown. "Ah, that Locksley boy?" she says, and Regina is sure that it's the beginning of a tirade that she doesn't want to hear—not just because of Henry, but also because Robin is a good man, despite everything they've disagreed on lately, Robin had been nothing but the model dad of the year for Henry since he'd found out that Henry is his. Mother had no right to demean him in that area, amongst the many other things she's already lambasting Robin's name on.
"Don't even start," Regina warns, her voice dropping so that Henry wouldn't hear. She throws her mother a look that dares her to even disagree. Regina clenches her fists and tries to calm herself down, tries not to stand up and walk out of here, dragging her son behind her. "Whatever you say about me, or about my past relationship with Robin, I will take like water on my back, but Robin has been a good father to our son, Henry loves him, and I will not stand for you saying anything mean about him. Especially not when our son is within earshot."
Cora opens her mouth briefly as though she has something to say, but the look in Regina's eyes must have stopped her someway because she only scowls and looks away, huffing.
"I heard the good Sheriff has been asking after you," she says instead, a gifted change of the subject, but still a slight on Regina's lack of beau. Not that it should be any of mother's business.
Robin is, was, right. Mother had all that she had to say eleven years ago.
Regina curses Mary Margaret in her mind, knowing it could only be her. The sheriff has not been asking anyone else after Regina.
"I don't know," Regina answers with an indifferent shrug. "He certainly hasn't been asking me." She tilts her chin up and presses her lips together, before turning her body slightly towards the two Henry's playing, letting her mother know without words that this conversation is over.
Mother doesn't say anything further, either, but Regina knows she's boiling inside.
Let her, she thinks to herself almost amusedly.
She is done giving a fuck.
. .
"Fuck," Regina curses loudly when she accidentally spills coffee on her desk. It has been such a long Monday, and getting longer still, and she had been extremely exhausted from the weekend, and had kept herself up at night worrying about Henry, and then Robin, and then fuming about her mother's betrayal, and then worrying about Henry and Robin again. She hadn't had much sleep and had to rush out this morning because when she did sleep, she'd fallen deep and had woken up late. Only to arrive into an absolute chaos in her office because of some misfiled documents.
It is to be her first coffee of the day, and of course she fucking spills it.
She hears someone rapping at the door, and she rolls her eyes and huffs, before saying "It's open," thinking it to be her secretary. Mary Margaret's head pokes in, looking apprehensive, and Regina tries a smile (though she feels it looks to be more of a grimace), and beckons her inside.
"Belle said you've had a rough morning," Mary Margaret says inquiringly as she steps inside and makes her way to the desk where Regina is still profusely wiping off the coffee she's spilled.
"More like a rough weekend," Regina quips, her shoulder lifting and falling as she releases a long, steadying deep breath. "Speaking of which, have you been chatting with my mother?"
Mary Margaret looks down and avoids her eyes, and it is an answer in itself, so Regina just raises an eyebrow and clears her throat pointedly when Mary Margaret fails to answer after a stretched silence.
"Well, not chatting," Mary Margaret finally says, and Regina's eyebrow rises higher. "Not really, no, but she's been asking after you, and well not so subtly about Robin, and I know you don't want her to go there...because of Henry and all, and so I told her that other than the Sheriff asking after you, I haven't heard anything else. You know Cora is some sort of piped piper, and I couldn't lie, so I told her some half truth."
Mary Margaret is one of a very select few who knows about Henry and what Cora has done (Mama Odie knows too, and she assumes so does Mrs. Potts and Gepetto—their gardener, but that's it, she'd wanted to keep it as private as she can for Henry' sake), and Regina has been eternally grateful that for once Mary Margaret has enough wits about her to not spill any beans.
Regina finally manages, then, to wipe the coffee she's spilled and she gathers all the used up napkin and throws it in the wastebasket. She cocks her head to her right and gestures to the flower arrangement she'd found when she'd walked in.
"Belle said that the Sheriff sent that," Regina confesses to the younger brunette, making her gasp. "I got to wonder how my mother found the time to egg the good sheriff on to doing this." She pauses for a second and then shakes her head. "Not that my mother ever lets anything stop her. She'd been able to convince your brother to ask me out, despite..." She trails off as she becomes aware of what is coming out of her mouth. She looks to Mary Margaret, a but horrified, but the other woman is just sat there looking stricken.
"Half brother," the other woman murmurs, and Regina hums but doesn't answer, ending that conversation in that. There is a bit of an awkward silence, before Mary Margaret speaks up again. "Is there anything going on between you and Robin?"
It is a leap from where they had started the conversation but it's not all that hard of a leap to make, considering. Regina's not entirely sure how to address that question, not knowing herself what the answer is. Of course there is something going on between her and Robin, she hasn't buried her head too far in the sand to not know that, but what exactly it is, she isn't sure.
All she knows is that there will always be something between her and Robin.
Regina sighs and closes her eyes, opening them not a beat later and then shrugging her shoulder and feeling the tension ease with the movement. God, she's been so caught up with all the stress lately, she feels like there is a ball of anxiety sitting heavily at the pit of her stomach.
"I don't know," she murmurs with a slight shake of her head. "We're trying to be parents to Henry, trying to work it out. Henry and I spent the day with him and his son this weekend, and he said some tings that ring true...too true."
Mary Margaret pats her hand sympathetically. "What's really stopping you Regina?" she asks insightfully, making Regina take a sharp intake of breath.
She never really delved deep for a reason on her reluctance. She'd always chalked it up to the changes she was scared of happening, and her mother, and time, and that still is true, but with the rawness of what just happened with Robin...Regina feels the need to take a step back and just wonder.
"I...I don't think..." she stops short, uncertain what to say next. "I don't get to ask for more than what I already have. Henry is my only happy ending."
Mary Margaret's face falls, and she grasps Regina's hand in hers and sighs. "Regina, I have seen you at your best and at your worst. I have seen you through the heartache of losing Robin and losing Henry—though I hadn't known it at the time—and you've always come up, always made it through, survived and have become better for it. I know it's scary right now, to think that happiness might really be well in reach, but it is, it can be. The only person standing in the way of your happiness is you." She smiles softly, making Regina almost believe anything and everything that she is saying. "Don't let anything hold you back."
. . .
Robin loves his house. He loves the way the moonlight filters through the large windows and bathes the room in a soft glow. He loves the dark woods and all the carpeting, and loves the way the roaring fire in the hearth makes the big house cozy. He loves all the space, and he loves the quiet.
Except, that late night, the house feels too quiet—deafening in its silence and emptiness.
Roland has been asleep for hours, away on a sleepover with John again. Henry, too, had been invited, and Robin would be lying if he says he is surprised that Regina has allowed it. She'd decided on it so last minute, that she'd thought she isn't going to let Henry join the slumber party. But she had, and Robin is left wondering why she'd decided so suddenly to let him.
Maybe she's out on a date with the Sheriff, Robin thinks to himself, a bit too bitterly if he is honest.
He's heard the rumors, has heard the Sheriff brag about Cora's stamp of approval, no matter how subtle it's been given. Robin knows that shrew far too well to know if the Sheriff had been lying, and fuck, he hasn't been.
Whatever reason Cora could find to keep him and Regina apart she will use, and she will manipulate the whole town if she needs to, Robin is sure.
It shouldn't matter, and no it does not, not really, except Regina has been tethering over the edge of denial town herself and can't bring herself to face the fact that they are meant to be together. He hasn't stopped loving her in all these years, and he can see it in her eyes that she hasn't either, but she's so steeped in her denial that she's failing to see it.
There will always be something between her and him, no matter how hard she denies it.
Of course, he doesn't want to force it, doesn't want to force her. He doesn't want her to feel obligated to do this, just because he knows they are still in love or because they have found their long lost son. He wants her to love him of her own accord, to come to terms to the fact on her own.
He is a patient man after all, and if he's managed to wait for her for eleven years, he can wait a little bit more.
The sound of thudding against the door interrupts his thought, and he frowns, looks up at the time and wonders who it could possibly be. He isn't expecting anyone, and can't think of anyone who might have urgent business with him at this hour, unless it is John and one of the kids is in danger or sick.
He tells himself that there is no cause for alarm, it would be more sensible and feasible if John called, even as he makes a dead run to the door. He is imagining the worse, thinking of his sons, and he is still panting when he throws open the door only to find:
"Regina?" he asks in surprise and wonder as he sees her stand there in front of him looking nervous and scared and apprehensive and excited all at once. "What are you doing here?"
She looks up at him with her big brown eyes and he can see all the emotions running there. He is about to ask her another question but she doesn't let him. She grabs him by the lapel and crashes her mouth into his.
Robin has always known that there will always be something between him and Regina. Now he's certain of what it is.
They're meant to be together, against all odds.