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She shoves things into the large suitcase that she’d purchased for herself the last time something like this had happened, angry. It was hard not to trust him. Everyone else didn’t understand how complicated it was.
Ever since she was a little girl she’d grown up with fairytales, stories in her head told to her by her mother. About how everyone was a good person and that you only have to dig deep enough to find it. Even villains, the world wasn’t as cut and dry like that as people liked to think. There’s really no such thing as villains or heroes; only people who make bad choices and people who try to stop them.
She believed that with her whole heart. By believing that, then, she has to believe that even though he’s never shown himself capable of it that Rumplestiltskin has it in him too. Maybe it’s just buried so deep by now that he himself can’t even find it. But she’s seen it before… in the way he talks about his son, Bae, in the way he talks about her…
She’s not naïve enough to believe that he’ll ever let it come fully through though.
That’s why she’s decided to leave. Again.
The hardest part about leaving every time isn’t the act in itself. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at her, as if he knows that she’ll just come crawling back in a few weeks again once he’s managed to convince her deep down he’s a good man again. She grumbles under breath as she shoves a new article of clothing into the bag.
She knows it’s not the clothings fault but he’s not here right now and it’s all she has to take out her anger on. Maybe if she packs fast enough, she’ll be able to get out before he ever even comes home. Before he even realizes she’s gone.
The worst part in all of this in a way even leaving, even trying to distance herself from his monstrosity feeds him. It plays into his game. She has a feeling he enjoys it, enjoys the cat and mouse of chase of letting her waltz away knowing at his earliest convenience he can just drag her back into his messes. And she’ll let him.
She doesn’t know why she lets him.
Love doesn’t feel like the right answer because she does love him but that’s not fully why she comes back every time. She loved her father, yet she still stood up to him, still pushed him from her life for betraying her in ways no one would understand. So why when it came to him did she have seemingly no autonomy?
Her only guess was it was her destiny, both of their destinies. They were intrinsically tied together. Trapped together. No matter what she does; they always will be until the day one of them inevitably does pass away from this mortal plane.
The thought sends a shiver of revulsion down her spine. It’s gross. She doesn’t want to be tied to him if all he’s going to bring her is pain and suffering… There are good moments… but do those outweigh the bad enough to make it worth it?
In the time it takes her to pack all of her stuff up, she realizes she’s been too slow. She only really comes to this realization when she turns and he’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the side of the frame.
“I’m going…” She says curtly, because she is. He doesn’t need her to tell him and yet she makes the observation anyway. This is the part where he grovels, he begs, he pleads with her to stay. He does just that.
“Belle, please, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for you to find things out that way… It wasn’t supposed to be like that-“ His hand comes out to grasp at her arm, she pulls it away instinctively like his grip is a hot iron she doesn’t want to burned by.
She has nothing to say to this. She never does. Because she knows deep down it’s all an act. If he really, truly cared in any capacity he would try. He would try harder to be the person she’s asked him to be time and time again.
She stands there, staring at him. He reaches for her hand. “Belle, please…”
She pulls her hand away and pushes through the doorway. She can’t let her resolve falter for even a second, even knowing she’ll be back she wants to see this through. To prove that she can.
“You know where I’ll be. I just… can’t be here right now. I’m sorry.” She’s not sorry. She doesn’t know why she says she is. She’s really not. What on earth should she be sorry for? Hurting him? He does that to himself! There’s honestly nothing she can think of worth apologizing to him for, but she does it anyway.
He calls her name but she’s already walking away, out the door into the crisp autumn air. It startles her every time she steps out, how cold and biting it can be, especially on her own. She turns back and glances at the building she’s come from. Over the years it’s come to signify a bond that she can’t escape from. No matter how hard she tries she always ends up right back through those doors. It’s exhausting.
She hopes deep down that this will be the last time she has to do this, the last time she has to walk away from him. Because even though she loves him more than anything else in this world, she knows deep down that his tears, his upset isn’t real. People who love you don’t continuously walk all over you, treat you like garbage to bolster themselves up. She wonders sometimes if her life would’ve been better had she never taken that deal, had she married Gaston like she was supposed to. Maybe she could have saved herself a whole lot of heartache if she’d just listened to her father for once.
There were lessons though that had to be learned on ones own.
Apparently sometimes, multiple times. She supposes she’ll spend the rest of her life learning this one as she walks down the quiet streets of Storybrooke. Maybe, one day it’ll actually stick.