For Day 16 of OQ Prompt Party.
#177: Jealousy
TW: Mentions of violence, infertility and miscarriage.
The man she loves stands just a few feet away and yet he looks right through her. Five years ago, his eyes would light up the moment she entered a room. Now, he clings to the arm of this mystery woman.
Who the hell is she?
The woman must have some sense, because she lets go of Robin's arm. Regina slowly comes closer and touches his face. He flinches a bit, but doesn't pull away. In the time since he's left, his facial hair has grown out some. It's spiky rather than prickly against her bare hands. Those gorgeous blue eyes stare down at her and Regina has to remind herself that this is real. She didn't fall asleep in front of a Big Bang Theory marathon. Robin is alive and standing right in front of her, with no recognition on that beautiful face.
Another sob catches her throat. All she wants to do is pull him into her arms, kiss him over and over, never letting go. And yet, he has such discomfort from her just cradling his cheek. This isn't the man who pulled her in for grand kisses at parties or proposed in front of everyone they knew. He's inching back a little while also looking so hopeful. He wants to remember, he wants to know who she is.
"You don't remember me at all, do you?" Regina whispers, tearing herself away.
For the first time in half a decade, she hears her husband's voice. He's still got his accent, despite not having lived in England in close to three decades. "No," he says, a little broken. "I wish I did…but I just…"
"It's okay," she interrupts, even though it's not. He can't remember her or their son, their life together. He's with this woman. And still, she continues to comfort. "I just…I'm so confused. I was told you were dead."
"I was getting to that," Weaver takes a step forward. "Detective Chapeaux wanted to be a hero, close all of the open cases within the department. As soon as he found a body that matched your husband's, he forged documents so we would think the body matched the DNA sample on file."
Regina bites down on her lip. If she had argued further, insisted another round of tests, maybe this could've been prevented. "But what happened? What got us here?"
"I can maybe lend a little help," the mystery woman offers. Regina looks her up and down. "I'm Marian Dubois."
"And how did you end up with my husband?"
Marian flinches. "Maybe we could sit down and chat?" She glances over at the officers. "Privately?"
The other officer nods. "The Hartford police already questioned Mr. Locksley; we've heard all we need to know. The room is yours for the moment."
The two depart and with shaky legs, Regina lowers herself into one of the chairs. Robin follows suit, his eyes practically dissecting her from a far. It's as if he's willing himself to remember something, anything. Marian sits beside him, her hand going over his. White heat fills Regina's veins. Her husband now takes comfort in another woman's touch.
"So," Regina says. "What happened?"
"I don't know," Robin replies, his voice still quiet. "The first thing I remember is waking up. I was in an alley, pretty beat up. I could barely walk. Eventually, I ended up at a hospital. They tended to my wounds, then put me in the psych ward for…I can't even remember how long."
Regina frowns as pain fills her heart. He was so close to her, in so much pain, and she had no idea.
"They tried to help me figure out who I was, but I had no ID or anything. I guess they looked into missing people and came up short."
"I filed within 12 hours of your disappearance," Regina assures him. "But they kept telling me that you had probably left me."
"Had we fought before then?"
Regina shakes her head, a trace of a smile barely lining her face. "The last time we talked, you were leaving the office. We um, we own a few bookstores." It's better than overwhelming him with the truth. "You were supposed to go to the bank and deposit some money. We had plans to go to dinner that night with your sister and her husband after we went to a school play for our son."
"Son," Robin repeats. "We had a child. I mean…I read that…but…how can I not remember him?"
"You read about him?" He nods. "How exactly did you decide to go to the cops?"
And how did you end up with this woman?
"I guess I should get back to the story," Robin says. "Eventually, the hospital just let me go."
Regina's frown returns. "They knew you remembered nothing and just released you onto the street?"
"They needed the bed and I had no insurance." Regina's nostrils flare and he nods as if he is the one that should have sympathy. "I was living on the streets for a while, trying to figure out how to get by. I didn't even realize I was in Hartford until a few months in. Eventually, I ended up at Sherwood's."
"Which is my bar," Marian interjects. "He would come in, pay for coffee all in pennies. I felt awful and would have our chef make him something to eat. For a while, he'd just come in for a hot meal and keep to himself. Then one day we got to talking and he told me his story or what he knew of it anyway. I tried to help him find who he was, but there was nothing out there. Like the hospital said, no missing person's case seemed to match his. I figured he had been homeless for a bit and got into a fight."
In reality, her husband lived in a nice house in Greenwich with a countrywide bookstore chain. Regina had gone to bed every night in a thousand thread count sheets and heat. Dread fills her as she realizes Robin went missing in the middle of fall. There was a great snowstorm not much later. He had been living on the streets during that time. Regina fights the tears and manages to swallow the sob that peaks up.
"Anyway," Marian continues, blinking a bit to feign off her own tears. "I decided to give him a job. Turns out, he was really great with the bar."
"He tended when he was younger," Regina mumbles. "Before he took over his mother's bookstore."
Marian purses her lips. "I have a loft above the bar, it was mostly being used for storage but I let him stay there. Helped him come up with a name, which ironically…is his real one."
Regina tilts her head. "Really?"
Robin nods. "She had a copy of Robin Hood up in the loft. I read it more often than I could count. It just…seemed like a nice name."
"It is," Regina agrees. She looks between the two of them. "So when did you…I mean…"
"How did we get together?" Marian asks. Off Regina's tight nod, she begins playing with her fingers. "Not for a few years. I worked on helping him try to find some memories but nothing worked. At the end of the day, we were both there for each other. It took us three years before either of us tried anything."
The question of who made the first move is at the top of Regina's tongue, but she isn't sure if she's ready for that answer.
"We have a child," Robin says.
Regina's heart begins to pound loudly in her chest again. Just as the three simple words "Your husband's alive" had brought her to a stop, these four did the exact same. A child. In the past five years, her husband had managed to meet someone new, create a whole life for himself and then have a child.
Having Henry had been an uphill battle. Thousands dumped into fertility drugs, two rounds of invitro with the first ending in miscarriage. She had been so cautious during her pregnancy with her son, any joy from it had been taken away. Then he was born 2 months early and spent some time in the NICU. When they first got married, Robin and Regina planned on a huge family with at least four children. After that pregnancy, they decided Henry was enough for them. They could not take any more rejection, heartbreak or the stress that came along with it.
And yet, in seemingly no time at all, another woman had managed to make him a father again.
"A son," Marian says. "Roland. He's 15 months old."
This time, Regina cannot hold back her sob. She hasn't even begun to process how she'll explain any of this to Henry and now, there's another child thrown into the mix.
"Roland," Regina repeats, her voice shaky.
"We wanted to be a family, make it official. But obviously Robin has no real identification. In reality, it's like he doesn't exist." Marian squeezes Robin's hand. "One of the people we work with told us we should try one of those ancestry things, where you submit your DNA. Figured there was a chance we could find some match." Robin remains quiet, his eyes still focused on Regina. "There was a sister, an Isabelle Locksley."
"Belle," she softly corrects.
"We looked her up, found out that she was part owner in the Colette Books chain. Some more digging showed us that she did indeed have a brother…one who was pronounced dead over five years ago."
"That's why you went to the police," Regina says.
Marian nods. "There was no doubting it was him. We saw the pictures, read the obituary. The DNA test from the police really wasn't needed."
"You wanted to find me, find the truth, I mean."
"Robin deserves to know who he is."
"And you were in Hartford, all this time?"
"Yes."
Regina stares at her husband, a fresh batch of tears coming all over again. For five years, he was just an hour away from both the city where she worked and the one she resides. Just last year, Regina had chaperoned a field trip to the Connecticut Science Center, in the very city he resided. Could it be possible they walked by one another and just didn't realize?
She cannot stop herself from crying this time and Marian pushes a box of tissues across the table. Regina gingerly accepts them, letting out a deep breath.
"We have a son, too, you know," she says.
Robin nods. "I know. Henry, right?"
Regina digs through her purse for her wallet and flips it open to a picture of the father and son at a family picnic. She passes it over to him and he gazes down, but no hint of recognition takes over. "He's 15 now." Regina bats at the tears with a tissue. "A sophomore in high school."
"I have another son." Robin shakes his head. "It's just surreal to me. I knew there could be a million different paths my life went but…"
He trails off as he flips through the photographs. There's an updated one of Henry, his school photo from the previous September. Behind that is a group shot of Robin, Regina, Belle and James opening their second location in Bristol. The next shows the two on their wedding day. Her hair neatly pinned back in a bun, wearing an off the shoulder pearl cocktail dress. He's in a gray suit, arm linked through hers. Both have matching smiles on their faces. Regina holds her breath, waiting for that lightbulb to go off in his head.
Instead, he gently closes the wallet and returns it to her. Regina clings to it tightly.
"I don't know where to go from here," Robin says. "I mean…I want to see him. To talk with you more. But I also…."
"Have a new life," Regina finishes, dread filling her voice. "One you can actually remember."
Robin looks to Marian, but she simply shakes her head. "I…I'm not sure how much I should be a part of this," she says. "I love you, Robin, but this is your…your wife. The mother of your other child."
"It's more complicated than that," he tells her.
He's clinging to her hand now, those beautiful blue eyes filled with sincerity. Regina takes the moment to swivel in the chair away from the table and bury her face in her hands. She can hear them softly talking as if she's not even in the room. It almost feels like she's intruding on a private conversation between a couple. As if she's the girlfriend, they're married.
Eventually, Regina composes herself and turns back around. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she says. "I just don't think we're going to solve this tonight. Maybe once we've gotten some sleep, we can all regroup."
"That sounds like a good idea," Robin says, and Marian nods.
Regina hesitates. His hand is still slid through Marian's. When she walked into the police station, the last thing she expected was to see her husband again. All those times she wished he'd come running through that door, now he can't even leave with her. He doesn't know her, the love they shared is gone.
Regina's walking out of the police station as she came, alone. She finds some scrap paper and a pen, scribbling down her number and address before pressing it into Robin's free palm. His warm touch is enough to send another floodgate to her.
"I…I'm sorry," Robin whispers. This time, that sincere gaze has fallen upon her. "I wish…"
"I know." Regina forces a smile onto her face. "Trust me, Robin, I know."
"I'll call you."
"Okay."
The metal of the chair scratches against the hardwood as she pushes herself up and exits the room, leaving her husband behind once more.
