He'd had to get out for a while. He'd spent too much time in the apartment over the last few weeks and he was going stir crazy. He dismissed that thought quickly. The word crazy didn't sit too well with him at the moment. As much as he wanted to stay outside, he knew he and Marian couldn't keep talking the way they had been. He might have wanted to avoid that subject, but regardless of what they ended up actually discussing, he wanted, needed, to see her. And no matter what she thought of him at the moment, he knew that didn't change that she loved him, just as he would never stop loving her. And so she would, he was sure, want to see him too.
Their honeymoon had been perfect, despite his changed mood since what had happened when the alternate versions of Marian and Gisborne had been here. Normally, he could easily shake the memories that haunted him. But not when he killed, that way. It was as if the price he paid for taking yet another life was to be reminded repeatedly of the awful things he had seen, and done, at war. It felt like a cruel twist of fate that this was all happening now, when they had finally been married, something they had both wanted for so long.
Entering the apartment, he shut the door quietly behind him. It had gotten later than he'd thought, and he didn't know if she was sleeping. Much wasn't on the couch, so he must have gone back to his own place for the night. Stopping in the door to their room, he was surprised to find her sitting on the bed. He couldn't tell what she was holding, but she was looking down at it with unwavering attention.