Thank you Geli, for the pre-read.

Chapter Twelve

So Cold

"You caused my heart to bleed and you still owe me a reason, cause I can't figure out why—why I'm alone and freezing…I'm just left alone to cry "

She doesn't believe in signs. But this has to be one.

This is divine intervention. If it isn't then she doesn't even know what is.

She is supposed to let go, to let him go, and she was, but she takes this as a sign that she shouldn't. If work has suddenly saddled her into his mother country, then that isn't her not letting go, that is nature and time and the forces telling her not to, not just yet.

Of course, who the hell is she kidding? She could have said no to this, if she'd really wanted to let go, after all this is the electronic age and she can just easily make conference calls to conduct those meetings. She hadn't had to go to London just to be in those meetings.

Only, her muddled brain had jumped at the opportunity to be with him, to be in the same country. Maybe she'll find herself in the streets he used to walk through, maybe she'll find the neighborhood he lives in by accident. Maybe, maybe.

It's been a month, and still none, nothing from him, and she's long since lost hope that she ever would. She'd made herself believe that he's moved on, because well, that is just logical. But her heart says a different thing, and it keeps hope that one day he'll find his way back to her. He did ask her to wait, didn't he?

She strolls down the Covent Garden, having had the day to herself after a long week of meetings. Mary Margaret has called her earlier to urge her to go out, to explore, and it amazes Regina how persistent Mary Margaret could be thousands of miles away. Despite herself, however, she did go, strolling on the streets of London, all by herself and wishing more and more that Robin was there with her. The lights glow and the city is alive with the hustle and bustle of people coming and going. It is pretty late, and she should be getting back, but she can't bring herself to go yet, can't bring herself to face the lonely, empty hotel room waiting for her.

She remembers all the times she and Robin made plans to come to this country, to visit his motherland, to visit his parents. She's met them, of course, when they'd come to visit the US, but she'd always had the open invitation to visit them in their own country. She wishes she's taken those offers now. She realizes how much of Robin had been compromised for her. And though she's made sacrifices of her own, she wishes she made more, worked harder for the relationship.

But it's a relationship, not a contest of who gave more to who, there is no need to think this way, her friend, Mallory Fuller told her, and though she knows that to be true, she wonders now if there is something she could have done to have made Robin stay.

It is times like this that she wishes she could turn back time, or at least stop it for a moment, just so she could find herself a moment where she could be in his arms, and he'd hold her, all of the past forgotten. Even for just a minute.

But time doesn't work that way, it won't ever, and she's just going to have to learn to accept the things that happened, take it as it is.

"You're here now, and this is true," is what Robin would always say when she feels all frazzled and feels like time is catching up on her.

She wishes she has him now, to make her feel better, to tell her not to get lost in the sea of what could have been and what ifs.

Sighing, she lets her attention drift from her, lets her eyes roam around the busy streets, the even busier restaurants. She lets it consume her, the reality of this, that she is in London, using business as an excuse to get close to him. She feels desperate, and maybe she is, maybe she needs to let it go now, since she is the one who started this. But as she lifts her eyes to a particular restaurant, she sees him, sees him emerging from the double doors, looking as handsome as she remembers him, maybe even more. He looks well, looks a lot better than she does, really. The whole world seems to stop and it's just him, and her, and no other. The string of people coming and going suddenly blurring from sight.

Her heart beats fast, and she feels like she might faint if it keeps up that pace. She swallows, almost unwilling to believe this. What are the chances?

As if by divine intervention he looks up, as though he feels her presence, and she sees his eyes train to her again, making a myriad of emotions to run through her ruthlessly. His eyes twinkle before they darken, and he looks like he wants to be anywhere but here.

It is only then that she notices a petite brunette coming to sidle next to him, her pretty face turned to his in concern, her arm looped around his. Regina's eyes widen, her heart breaking into a million pieces inside her, and he doesn't even hear it, from where he's standing, he doesn't know it's breaking.

She doesn't know, doesn't realize what she's doing.

She only runs, runs away from him, and this, from reality. She runs, not caring if she's hitting people on the way, tears falling from her eyes like a storm. She doesn't even know what has happened.

All she knows is he's moved on. He is there on a date.

A date.

A mother fucking date—when she almost drags her body out of bed every single day that she doesn't hear from him. Maybe, that's it, he's moved on and couldn't say it to her face and that's why.

He's found his own way of saying goodbye. And she takes that as a sign.

…

The next morning comes soon, too soon for her. She feels the heat of the sun rays streaming through her window, and she feels a little bit lost, feels a little disoriented. She groans and rolls over, trying to find a good reason why there is a headache nagging at her head right now. Her brain conjures images of last night, and she feels her heart breaking all over again at the recollection.

God.

She did know from the get-go that this is a bad idea, so why did she let that little snowflake Mary Margaret talk her into it?

Fighting the tears that seem to want to claw their way out of her eyes, she climbs out of the bed to get ready for the day. Her flight leaves in less than ten hours.

…

It is around noon when someone knocks on her door.

"Must be room service," she says to herself aloud as she wanders to the door, her stomach grumbling as she does.

What waits for her on the other side, however, floors her, and she stands there, mouth agape as the door stands between them, left open because of her inability to move, or process any thoughts.

"Robin," she breathes out finally, voice trembling and hands shaking. "What…what are you doing here?"

He looks remorseful, looks like he hasn't had any decent sleep, and she should not care, but she does.

"I came to talk to you. I called Mary Margaret and she told me where you were staying," he confesses, and of course, Mary Margaret, their resident Disney princess would do just that.

"Well I uh," she stammers, and god damn it she never stammers what is happening to her? "Would you like to come in?"

She doesn't want him to, but she offers anyway, which he takes, stepping into her hotel room with a little unease.

"You room looks—," he tries to say but she cuts him off.

"I'm sure you weren't here to talk to me about the condition of my hotel room, so get on with it," she snaps at him, choosing offense, choosing to hurt than be hurt.

"What are you doing here?" he asks then, looking at her in earnest. "In London, I mean."

She shakes her head, the words what is it to you, right at the tip of her tongue, but she bites it down. "Business," she responds monotonously.

"I'm sorry, Regina," he begins, and no, she cannot hear this. She is tired of apologies, tired of…everything. She doesn't need any more excuses. She just wants to move on.

"No," she shakes her head. He looks at her pleadingly, and it melts her heart, but not her resolve. "No, you asked me to wait for you. You said it, Robin, you told me not to go off falling in love with someone else. What? Was that not supposed to be mutual? So you could go off falling in love but I can't? I had to wait for you?" Her voice is getting louder at every word, and she notices him wince. "And you know that isn't even the most…that isn't even what I'm mad about. I guess whether you asked or not, I would have waited. I would have sat there waiting for you, just there, at the edge of my seat waiting for you to come home, back to me so we could start a new life together. So I guess I don't even begrudge you for that. I …I cannot be mad about that. But you know what I'm mad about? It's the fact that you didn't even have the decency to tell me that you moved on. I mean, it shouldn't be that hard to pick up your phone and say, Hey Regina, remember when we talked about you not falling in love with someone else? Yeah, let's not do that anymore. Move on. But no! For weeks, for a month Robin you ignored me. You let me worry, then go angry, then worry again, then just accept that you don't care enough to give me the courtesy of calling me before you go off fucking someone else. I mean, wow. And I thought you held on to honor and all that shit. Was that just a load of crap then?" She looks away and runs her fingers through her hair. "God, Robin. I waited, by the phone, all day every day, just for you to call me and tell me something, anything, I deserved it, after all these years, for you to let me go with a warning, because…that…" She points at the general direction of her large windows that over look the city. "That was…I don't even know what that was. All I know is that right now, I have no idea how I'm still breathing, because every breath hurts." She sighs as tears prickle at her eyelids. "I held on to you, latched on to you, and all the while, you were letting go without telling me. And you should have…told me, you should have let me know. I deserved to know I was being replaced."

To his credit, he looks pained, but Regina doesn't even care. She cannot right now. "You weren't being replaced. Please just let me explain."

She closes her eyes and exhales, throwing her hands up in surrender. When she puts her hands down, her shoulders deflate. "I don't want to hear it anymore. I'm tired, I'm exhausted. I don't know what I did to deserve you running away from me without any reason or explanation, but whatever it is, fine, great, good." She holds up a finger when he looks about to protest. "No, Robin. I'm happy for you, okay? If you've moved on, if you haven't—you know, it doesn't even matter anymore."

"Regina…"

"I'm sorry," she tells him as if she hadn't heard him. "I'm sorry for hurting you, for breaking your heart and pushing you away. I'm sorry if I made you make sacrifices, if you've been compromised during our relationship…" her voice cracks and she breathes in deeply, "I'm sorry. You deserve someone better, you deserve someone who could give you everything in the way I haven't been able to do. But thank you, for everything, for the memories. Thank you for loving me when I thought I wasn't even worth loving. Thank you for making me feel like I was worth something. You gave me a reason to start believing in myself again, after I've been left so broken by the things that happened to me, and I can never thank you enough for that. You loved me enough for the both of us until I was able to love myself, and you loved me so well that I began to love me, too. I saw myself in a different light, because of you, because you saw me differently and let me see myself through your eyes. It's been an amazing six years, all of it, the ups and the downs, and I will never trade that for anything."

She pauses and looks at him.

"But maybe it's time to move on," she tells him, not willing to risk her heart again. "Maybe it's time to let go of the dreams we once had and make new ones…separately." She reaches up to brush away the tears from her cheeks. "Maybe it's time to let go and really say goodbye."

He is quiet, and though she wished he'd say something, anything, to make this hurt less, to make her feel better he doesn't, and that is almost relieving.

"Look," she continues when the silence stretches way too long, "maybe you should go. I have things to do, and I have a flight to catch."

"Regina, I'm sorry, I cannot even begin to apologize for everything," he tells her again, catching her hands and holding them. He looks like he's about to explain again, but she just looks at him blankly, making him exhale in defeat. "For what it's worth, the woman last night, she's a colleague, at the school, and we aren't dating. Her name is Gwen, and she's married, to a man named Arthur who has been a friend of mine since I've been in nappies."

Her eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. So, she's been wrong, but it doesn't erase the one month that he'd cut her off of his life.

This is for the best.

"And I haven't called because I'm a coward. I couldn't keep hurting you the way I did, hurting myself too, saying goodbye again and again knowing all I wanted was to be right there with you. I was wrong, and I deserve everything, all the pain." He squeezes her hand. "But just know...I do…"

She shushes him, afraid her heart would break if she hears him say it again. "Yes, I know," she tells him.

He nods then before pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She wants to fight it, but she's weak and powerless to do so, and she feels herself melting into his touch as his mouth wreaks havoc into her consciousness. She needs him, needs him more than she's even thought possible.

She feels him back her into the bed and she lets him, the back of her knees hitting the mattress making them both topple over. She's pretty sure he hadn't come for this, pretty sure this isn't what goodbyes are made of, but she doesn't care anymore—couldn't find it in her to do so.

His hands slip to her shirt, caressing the soft skin of her taut stomach, reaching up the undersides of her bare breasts, and he cups them in his hands, making a moan slip past her lips. He pulls away, breathless.

"Regina," he whispers against her throat, as he buries his nose at the junction where her shoulders and neck meet. "I don't think…"

She shushes him with a finger on his lip. "Don't think," she says, pleadingly. "Just feel, and let me feel. For a moment, let us just throw caution to the wind and stop thinking."

He smiles though a bit strained, before diving in to kiss her once.

We are almost there, just a few more. Let me know what you guys think!