A/N: I don't own HIMYM or these characters. I'm not making any money off of this.

[Future Ted]: If you love something, you can never let it go. Not even for a second. Or it's gone forever. As I told you earlier, it took me nearly 30 years to unlearn the first part of that lesson. I finally figured it out on a beach, shortly after sunrise, back in 2013. It took me another thirteen years to unlearn the second part. You see kids, I had let Robin go. In fact, I barely saw her for over a decade, while I was with your mother. Yet, now, here she was. Back in my life. To be sure, it wasn't like before. We weren't hanging out at a bar every night, or living together - aside from those first few months after your mom died. And we certainly weren't dating. I was still mentally a wreck. Your mother's memory was in every one of my waking thoughts that weren't devoted to you guys. But I had my friend back. In fact, with apologies to your Uncle Marshall, Robin quickly became my best friend.

It's not that your Uncle Marshall and I had a falling out. But, by the time you reach your mid-40s, you grow apart even from your best friends. It's just life. I was in Westchester. He was in Long Island, at least an hour away, without traffic. And, there's always traffic. Kids, I don't believe in Hell. But trying to get across the Throgs Neck Bridge or traverse the LIE comes pretty close. Plus, I had both of you, he had three kids, and both of us had full-time jobs. We'd spend our respective weekends shepherding offspring to birthday parties and soccer practices, or running errands. We'd try make plans to see each other . . . and they would just fall through.

Robin was different. She made the effort. You remember. She'd trek up here for dinner, usually on the second Friday of every month. Then we'd stay up so late talking and drinking. Pretty frequently, she'd wind up crashing in the guest room and staying the weekend. Often, she brought her dogs - Macdonald, Mackenzie King, Chretien, Harper, and Fidel's Bastard.

But the next part of the story didn't take place during one of those weekends. It was about one of those rare times I saw your Uncle Marshall. You see, we were at Maclaren's, sitting in our old booth. Just nothing but the two of us, each of us with a giant pint of amber beer in front of us, and a large pit of cheesy nachos on the table between us.


Chapter 3: The Ten Fingers (July 2026)

"God bless overnight camp." I exclaimed happily to Marshall, taking a sip from the brew. "Four weeks. No kids. It's like I'm single again . . ."

Marshall looked at me somewhat seriously. He brought the beer mug to his face but didn't drink, then placed the mug down. "Ted, you are single."

I got his point and nodded as I took a gulp of beer. "Still married. Just separated. In a manner of speaking. So, where are Lily and Barney?"

Marshall scooped up a nacho with a generous helping of salsa and guac, he lovingly brought it to his lips, shoved it in his mouth, and then answered me as he chewed. "It's her first night in six months with no kids. She loves you Ted. But she loves sleep more. As for Barney, he couldn't make it. Michelle had some work thing that he got dragged into going to."

[Future Ted] Now kids, you might not remember Michelle. She was Barney's long-term sorta-casual girlfriend at the time — probably one of a dozen that he's had in the past ten years. It's interesting how divorce, parenthood, and middle age change people. They affect everyone differently. In Barney's case, they turned the ultimate player into a serial monogamist by his mid-40s — never alone, but never fully committing, or really letting anyone getting too close. In Michelle's case, her and Barney ended badly. Really badly. But tell you about that some other time. Back to the story.

Marshall paused a bit, as he scooped up another nacho. "But it's all good. I kinda wanted some alone time just you and me."

"Like the good old days. Roommates reunited."

Marshall gave a pensive smile as he brought the beer mug to his lips again. This time, he drank heartily.

"Ted, it's great to catch up. But I had another reason for inviting you out tonight."

I had thought as much. This wasn't the easy going, jovial Marshall that I was used to. I motioned for him to get on with whatever he wanted to say.

Marshall drank more of his beer, put the mug down, and spoke. "I'm worried about you man. What with this 'still married, just separated' crap. It's been a year and a half. More even. You're not the kind of guy who can be alone. And Tracey wouldn't want this for you."

I growled on the inside. I wanted a night out with a friend. Not a lecture. God knows, I gave enough of them to myself. I responded sharply – sharper than I had intended.

"What do you want me to do? Wake up one morning, forget that the love of my life died, take the Metro-North to Grand Central, Uber over here, and pick up random skanks half my age."

Marshall nodded at me. "Actually, if it came to it, if you had no other option, I think that would do you a world of good."

Marshall looked like he wanted to continue speaking, but didn't.

I interjected. "I'm sensing a 'but' coming."

Marshall grabbed a shot glass of clear alcohol from the trey of a passing waitress and downed it. She looked at him quizzically, but he placated her with two $20 bills.

Finished with the shot, Marshall ginned up enough courage to add his "but."

"But you have someone who loves you."

I responded jokingly. "True. Unfortunately, you live in Long Island and you're not my type. Plus, I don't think Lily is into that sort of thing."

Marshall gave me a kind glaze. "Not me Ted. Robin."

I blew raspberries at him. "This again? She's just a friend. Has been for twenty years."

Marshall shook his head dismissively. "No, she's not. She never has been. She loves you, and always has."

I was torn. I didn't believe him. And, if he was right, it didn't matter. At least, I didn't think it mattered. Did it matter? In any event, in the moment, my curiosity overtook my internal confusion. I pressed him for information.

"And you know this how?" I asked.

Marshall responded. "Mostly from being on planet earth with the two of you since you met. Why do you think I kept pressing you to go after her, for years, before you met Tracey."

"To win that stupid bet with Lily."

Marshall smirked and shook his head again. He took another drink of the beer. I could sense that he was hiding something.

"Ted, you're my best friend. Do you really think I would have advised you to go on a doomed expedition of emotional turmoil? You know me better than that. Everything I did, I did because I knew that you loved Robin and she loved you back. Lily saw it too. Even Barney confided in me after the divorce that he suspected how Robin felt. You were the only person oblivious enough not to see it."

I barked back at him. "She told me she didn't love me."

As I said those words, I wasn't sure why I was even asking. Was I interested in Robin? I really didn't think so. Frankly, I couldn't fathom being with anyone. Yet Marshall seemed damn sure. And I wanted to know why he thought so.

Marshall glared at me intensely. "When did she say that? On the rooftop, what? Fifteen years ago?"

I nodded. Marshall blew raspberries, imitating my prior dismissiveness.

He spoke. "She was lying. Either to you. Or to herself. Possibly a mix of both."

"Bull crap," I answered.

Marshall extended his left hand as a fist, then held up one finger from it. "She tried to run off with you at her wedding."

I quipped back. "She was nervous. That's it. Wedding jitters."

He shook his head again. "No, it wasn't."

He held up a second finger. "Where did she spend the night before her wedding? Taking a romantic walk on the beach. With you."

He held up a third finger. "And how did that night end? With a disturbingly long handshake, while staring into each other's eyes?"

I nodded.

He held up a fourth finger. "And what was the sign she gave on your first date, to let you know that she wanted you to kiss her?"

I gasped. "Son of a bitch."

He extended his thumb. "And what happened right before the wedding, in Central Park? You went on some shpiel about how you really know what you want, deep down? And how did she respond?"

I gasped again. "She grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes. Son a bitch."

Marshall took his now open palm and slapped me.

"Hey," I answered. "You didn't get a slap."

He answered me. "The slap-bet commissioner awarded me one slap for you being a dumbass. People in healthy relationships, about to get married, don't act like Robin did. She was trying to blow up her wedding. Because of you."

I acknowledged his point as I grabbed my cheek in recovery. I took another sip from my beer, and replied to Marshall. "It doesn't matter. It's ancient history. She married Barney, I married Tracey, a giant orange orangutang with a bad temper got elected President. Robin voted for him."

Marshall raised his eyebrows in surprise. "She did?"

I sighed. "Marshall - she likes guns, low taxes, and brutalizing criminals. Plus, she married a guy who thinks that Star Wars is the tragic story of how rebel scum brought down the heroic Palpatine. Is it really a surprise that she's a Republican?"

Marshall smirked again. "You're trying to change the subject."

He was right. "Maybe I am. But what does it matter? Your evidence is older than the mold growing on the cheese in my fridge."

Marshall extended his right hand in a fist, and lifted up one finger. "No, it's not. You're forgetting about the restaurant a few years ago."

He raised the second finger. "But put that aside. Ted - what kind of friend moves in, with her five dogs, on a whim's notice, to take care of someone else's kids for three months."

"A good one." I commented.

Marshall ignored me. "And then is sad when she finally leaves."

"A really good one." I quipped.

Marshall raised the third finger. "And then comes over for dinner one Friday a month. Going from Manhattan to Westchester."

"A really, really good one." I quipped again, a bit more desperately.

Marshall raised his fourth finger. "And goes on vacation, with you and your kids, to Disney World during Christmas last year."

This time I got a little angry. "That doesn't count. It was platonic. She stayed in a separate room. It had been one year since Tracey died. She wanted to do something special, to take the kids mind off of everything."

Marshall looked at his right hand, with the four fingers extended from what used to be a solid first. He considering raising the thumb but thought better of it. "Ted. Adults nearing 50 don't have friends like that. She does it because she loves you. And the fact that you're fighting me on this proves that you still love her back."

I shook my head frantically. I protested. "No, I don't." I meant it. Or at least I thought I did. Did I mean it?

Marshall pressed. "You do. But you feel guilty. You think that you're cheating on Tracey. That what you feel for Robin insults her memory, or what you had together. It doesn't."

"And how do you know?"

Marshall gulped down the last of his beer. He raised his thumb, leaving the palm exposed. He brought back the hand, threatening a slap, but put it down. He spoke nervously, as if he was unsure whether the next words should pass from his lips.

He took a deep breath. "Because Tracey knew how you felt about Robin. And she was ok with it."

Silence fell between us for twenty seconds. It took me that long to process what Marshall had just said. But my next question was the obvious one.

"And you know that how?" I asked him.

Marshall breathed in again, then exhaled. "Because she told me. And she told Robin . . ."

I just stared at him, blankly.

Marshall gritted his teeth. "Tracey swore me to secrecy . . . but told me this vow was only for 18 months. She wanted to give you a chance to move on first, before you knew. But, if enough time passed and you were stuck in a rut, she wanted me to tell you."

I was dumbstruck. "I don't understand."

Marshall continued. "A couple of weeks before she died, Tracey invited Robin to visit her in the hospital. She got Robin to confess her feelings. And she gave Robin her blessing. More than that . . . she told Robin that you loved her too. Hell, Tracey practically begged Robin to pursue you after she passed. Tracey was worried about you, Ted. She didn't you to be a lonely widower, getting drunk at a bar, talking about you're still 'married, just separated.' . . . Ted . . . Tracey wasn't threatened by Robin. She knew that a big part of you had always loved Robin, and she didn't care. Because Tracey knew that the part of you that loved Robin didn't prevent you from being completely devoted to your wife in life. In life, Ted. Not in death. If you want to honor Tracey, honor her last wish . . . which was for you to be happy. That's what she wanted for you. That's what I want for you. The question is: is that what you want for yourself? Or do you want to keep punishing yourself for being in love with two wonderful women at the same time . . . one of whom is still very much alive, and very much in love with you."

I sat there in silence. I half expected Marshall to tell me that this was all in my mind, then disappear. But he didn't. He was real. He was speaking the truth. And I didn't know what the hell I would do next.


A/N: Apologies for the slow updates, and for the typos. There are a few chapters left. It will probably be at least a month before the next update. While you are waiting, how about you read and review one of my other stories?