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If he was being honest with himself, Gold would admit that he still had some difficulty believing how they’d gotten here, to this day, this moment.
It had begun, the way things almost always did tend to begin with him, as a transaction. Belle French’s father had been running his wilting flower business right into the ground, and in an effort to dig him out, his loyal daughter had approached the the business’s landlord (and local pawnbroker and deal shark) to make an offer.
It was an interesting proposition. Belle was in charge of the town library - she was chief circulation desk manager, janitor, and a nearly-automated book restocking service all in one - and it had occurred to her that her domain had significantly greater potential value than merely being the single greatest dust-generation site in Storybrooke. She suggested using it to house a series of ticketed lectures, seminars, and workshops for all ages. The town would get enrichment, and until Moe French was out of the red, Mr. Gold would be seeing every penny of profit. After that, ticket prices would be used to fund other community-focused works.
Despite himself, Gold had found both woman and her proposal compelling. Most people who came to him for help had no action plan in mind aside from acquiring cash in as expedient a manner as possible. “I’ll do anything,” they’d say, but “anything” was hardly a concrete and actionable debt repayment plan. Belle, on the other hand, had shown up with research, forecasts, and an anticipated timeline. She also mentioned, with a look that was downright mischievous, that she hoped a seminar or two on sound business practices might help the local shop owners steer clear of similarly sticky situations. He’d chuckled, told her he needed time to review her plan, and sent her on her way.
The first time he showed up to the library looking to buy a ticket - “I want to see whether your execution lives up to your strategy” - she’d laughed right in his face.
“Let’s not be ridiculous, Mr. Gold. Come to the event if you like - but since your seven dollars would be going right back into the check I’ll be writing you next week, we’ll go ahead and consider the admission fee waived.” She’d flashed him a small but genuine smile and returned to mending book covers.
Not many people laughed at him, fewer still did it with no malice.
He found it refreshing.
Gold had started showing up regularly to her little events, always with the gruff excuse that he wanted reassurances that this would work (even after it had clearly proven to be as solid a solution as Belle had hoped it would be).
After some months, he was stopping by the library even on normal days just to ask about what was coming up.
On one such occasion, when the conversation had started with only the merest pretext of being related to their deal and had quickly wandered far afield, Belle leveled a look at him that made him feel like a child who’d been found out in some game - a most perplexing feeling for a reputable businessman such as himself.
“Mr. Gold,” she said, “I’m sure you of all people understand that I can’t fritter away time like this while the library is open. I should be helping my customers and tending to my duties.”
He stood up straight from where he’d been leaning on the circulation counter, his heart sinking. Sure, there were a handful of kids wandering around (in addition to making remarkable strides in paying off her father’s debt, Belle’s programming schedule had brought increased activity in the library, so it was normal now for the children to head here after school), but they didn’t seem to need much supervision, and Belle had never before suggested that his visits were an inconvenience.
“However,” and his falling heart made a wild leap at the twinkle in her eyes as she continued speaking, “if you’d like to meet me at Granny’s after closing, I’d love to continue our chat.”
Well - he huffed out a gust of breath - that certainly hadn’t been what he was bracing for. It sounded distinctly similar to the sorts of ways that people asked other people out on dates. Gold wasn’t on the receiving end of many such invitations, and hadn’t been in longer than he cared to remember, but he found the notion decidedly appealing.
“It would be a pleasure,” he said. She rewarded him with a beaming grin that took all the strength from his legs.
That weak-kneed feeling was a sensation he’d somehow never gotten over. Even now, standing still and simply waiting for her, he found himself gripping his cane tight and trying to find balance.
And then, from one heartbeat to the next, there she was - and everything in Gold’s world ground to a halt.
Belle often joked that he was too dramatic and that things were never as wonderful or as terrible as he made them out to be, but right now he knew with absolute conviction that there was no word in all the libraries of the world grand and gentle enough to describe her. ‘Stunning’ sounded too harsh for the soft curls of her hair and curve of her cheek. ‘Majestic’ might do for her bearing, but it fell short of the joy and openness of her expression as she shot him the same grin that had been setting his world tilting off-center ever since she first asked him on a date. She was a vision in creamy white lace, but her loveliness had so little to do with her dress or her makeup or the flowers tucked into her hair and everything in the world to do with that smile and the look in her eyes as she looked at him.
As he remembered to breathe, Gold wondered if he’d ever be worthy of her towering love.
She began walking down the aisle.
Ruby’s maid of honor speech had brought up some of Gold’s favorite anecdotes from Belle’s early pursuit of him, making Belle blush prettily as the guests chuckled at stories of her boldness.
“I should’ve kept my heart off my sleeve,” she said quietly to him, although she was still smiling. “You probably thought me a fool then.”
He squeezed both of her hands with his own. “No, my dear wife, or how would we ever have gotten here?”
She gave a tinkling laugh. “That is a fair point, husband of mine. Goodness knows I couldn’t have counted on you to start things.”
“Far too much a coward,” he agreed. “And not nearly savvy enough to have picked up anything more subtle than your rather... direct approach.”
He leaned in to kiss her, and lost track of all the world for a moment as he reveled in her closeness and her taste.
She pulled back and reached up one hand to caress his cheek. “I’m glad to have been able to do the brave thing - for us,” she whispered.