Written for Sarah.


To my heart I must be true

- Set in the future

Regina Mills never forgets an important date. Never. It's well-known. She knows that Emma secretly envies her ability to remember every damned appointment, birthday, anniversary, even if the Savior mocks her for that. She remembers everything. Henry's first tooth. Roland's first driving lesson. Snow's birthday.

Every now and then, when they all are at Granny's, in the morning, she comes up with "Do you know what day is today?" and there's a chorus of "What day?" and she smirks, and says "The first time you came to Storybrooke, Miss Swan, I was sure you wouldn't remember," or "The day we came back from the Underworld," or "The day Henry saved all of us from Isaac's book," and the list goes on. She knows every date, every single date, she has never forgotten one.

But right now she's standing here, mouth wide open, staring at Robin, and she's astonished, because she absolutely can't remember.

He's in front of her, holding a red and velvety rose, and behind him the kitchen is clean and shining, candles and roses on the table, lights are low. It's a special occasion. But which one?

"Oh… wow," she breathes, and he smiles, "Good evening, love," he says.

She can feel the guilt already digging in her soul. She wants to ask, "What's the occasion," but no, she can't. What if this is not a random surprise? What if she actually did forget an important date?

Maybe their first kiss? No, that was in early spring, the air was chilly, she had a white scarf around her neck.

"Hey there," she says, leaning in to kiss him, and how can it be, that every kiss is like the first kiss?

Once they part, he has his hand lingering in her hair, and she's smiling, but her heart is racing. Think, Regina, think. Music is playing, a soft sound of violins, and her memory runs. Maybe their first ball in Camelot? But he knows she doesn't like to celebrate that, he almost died that night, and Emma was the Dark One and David killed Percival…

She tilts her head, and he has a weird look on his face. "What is it?" he asks, and she bites the inside of her cheek, this man can read her like an open book. "Nothing," she forces a smile, but she knows she hasn't fooled him. She looks at the table, and there's red wine, and crystal glasses, maybe that evening in front of the fireplace, in her office? Their first date?

He's scrutinizing her face, and she lowers her gaze, knowing she can't hide. Maybe the first time they made love, in her vault? That day on the bench when he chose her? What the hell happened today?

"Regina," she hears him say, and she doesn't look up, "you know what we are celebrating, don't you?"

She bites her lip, then, and he's smiling when she meets his blue eyes. "No," she admits, heart sinking in her chest, shame coloring her cheeks of crimson.

"Let me remind you, then," he says, and she feels him take her hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses her knuckles, and she looks at him, and the diamond on her ring shines mockingly.

Their wedding day.

Fifteen years ago.

Her eyes widen, she holds her breath, and he still has his lips on her hand, gaze fixed on her, the ghost of a chuckle on his face, and she shakes her head in disbelief. She brings up the other hand to cover her mouth, "Oh my god," she mutters, and he's smiling, and she's ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she says, but he lifts her chin, and hazel meets blue, and he shakes his head, slowly, "Don't be," he says, serious. "It happens"

"But this is one of the most important dates of my life," she retorts, and he's shrugging. "I'm almost glad, I was starting to think you weren't human," he answers, but she can feel traitorous tears, and the first one rolls down.

"Love, stop it," he pleads, and moves his hand to her hair, nears his face and kisses her, as he kissed her that morning in the vault, slowly, and deeply, and she forgets all the dates she has in her mind, all gone, in that oblivious kiss, he pulls her closer, and the music swirls around them.

He slows down, he leaves her lips, looking at her again. "Better?" he asks, and she nods, a smile cracks open. "Happy anniversary, love," he tells her, and this time it's Regina who kisses him, the dinner forgotten, the candles burning, maybe, yes, this is her wedding, and she'll never forget again.