Charlize hadn't expected Robert to stay with them for the whole day. She thought he would drop Gabriella off with her and leave, but that wasn't the case.

He stuck around, checking the asylum for himself as Miguel offered to give him a tour, and then sat in her office with Ella while she completed the rest of her tasks.

Even when they were at Charlize's house, an unnerving tension lingered between them. However, Gabriella was ecstatic to spend the day with both her parents, as it reminded her of the times when they lived together as a family.

As the day came to an end, she put the child to bed and stepped out of the room to see Robert waiting for her in the living room. She knew she must ask him to leave.

"Robert, it's late. I think you should go now," she remarked, standing close to the couch.

"I have to talk to you," he looked up, brows knitted together in a skeptical expression, "I just couldn't say so in front of Ella and..."

"So you stayed with us the whole day? You could have told me earlier, and I might have left her with Mister Hanson at the office and heard you out."

He shook his head, "I don't trust anyone else other than you and I to be close to her."

"Mister Hanson is very responsible and trustworthy. He has eight children, and the twins are close to Ella's age," she remarked coldly.

He didn't respond to that, but his eyes judged her cautiously.

She sighed and then sat down across from him, hoping to get that conversation done as soon as possible. "What do you want to talk about?"

He paused, considering how to rephrase the question in his head. But there was no better way to ask. "Who is Jonathan?"

The question was out, and she stiffened but stood her ground, "Why do you want to know?"

"Because Ella knew him, and she didn't tell me."

She carefully analyzed his expression before speaking up, "Perhaps you didn't get time to talk to Ella or else she would have told you. She met him last month."

She once again dodged answering who he was, which made Robert suspicious. "So, he's a friend of yours..."

"It is still beyond me why you are so interested. Who I meet with or not shouldn't concern you now. I am not your wife anymore."

The last remark stung, but she said nothing to tone it down. Robert had to be given hard facts often, as she had learned from her experience with him.

The tension between them deepened due to their years of history, knowing each other's triggers, and unresolved emotions.

"You are not my wife, but you are still Ella's mother," his tone was slightly frustrated. "The people you surround yourself with impact our daughter, which is why I am concerned."

She folded her arms, looking at him cautiously. "And pray, do tell, what is wrong with Jonathan?"

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one who avoids answering about him. You're the one who gets all defensive," he huffed, feeling she was hiding something by avoiding the confrontation.

"Are you..." But then, she stopped herself, a subtle expression taking over her face that he hated.

He could see that she was analyzing him, tying his response to some logical reason yet again. No matter what he did, she always found a pattern or some reason to tie it to.

As a result, it helped her understand where he was coming from and respond accordingly. But it often did not work in his favor.

Often, he thought he should never have married a psychiatrist.

"Are you jealous, Robert?" She asked, her eyes carefully noting each flicker of emotion on his face.

He was taken aback as if he had been caught, "Jealous? Me?"

"Yes, you," her features were calm and much more composed than his as she resumed. "Are you jealous that I have someone now that you are not in my life?"

His lips parted to contradict her, but no words came out. Perhaps the revelation that he was jealous also took him by surprise, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt she was right.

But he would never admit it out loud.

"That's ridiculous," he muttered, but the words felt hollow even to his own ears. "I'm not jealous. I just want to know if he's safe for Ella to be around."

She shook her head, recognizing an attempt to twist his own judgment and projected it as a safety precaution for their daughter. "I have known Jonathan for two years now, and I don't think you should be worried about him. Besides, Ella has met him only once, that too under my supervision."

"Two years...? You met him right when you came to Gotham?"

"Yes." She wasn't willing to share further; the thin line her lips set into made it evident.

But he didn't give up, "Who is he, really?"

"A colleague."

"A colleague who comes around our daughter? Who meets you outside work? He doesn't work at Arkham, that much I can guess..."

"Lower your voice," she said quietly but with a clear warning. "Ella's sleeping."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

Charlize's expression hardened as she recognized the emotional trigger points—his fear of being replaced, his loss of connection with their daughter, and her moving on. Even after all those years, he hadn't changed much.

She took in a deep breath to calm herself before speaking. "Your anger isn't about Jonathan. It's about your own insecurities. You're threatened by the possibility of me forming a meaningful connection that doesn't involve you."

Robert froze at her deduction but then laughed bitterly. "Meaningful? Like how meaningful you were during our marriage?"

The low blow landed, but Charlize didn't react. Instead, she tilted her head, studying him like a case study. "You have no right to say that. Your relationship with Sasha began while we were still married. Yet you're holding me accountable for our separation?"

Robert knew she could read him like an open book, decoding every micro-expression and defensive mechanism. He hated it, he always had.

"I don't trust him," he muttered, deflating slightly as the aggressive energy seeped out.

"Your trust isn't required," she said coldly. "Like you said, I am Ella's mother, and I will see to it that she's safe with me and the people around me."

That conversation wasn't going to end on a pleasant note, and Charlize was well aware of that. So before, things took a turn for the worst, she decided to cut it short.

"It's futile to discuss this further," she said firmly, moving towards the door. "You should go."

Her body language was clear. She was setting a physical boundary, a definitive end to the conversation, but Robert wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

"We're not finished," he insisted, stepping forward.

Charlize's hand was already on the doorknob. "Yes, we are. Gabriella needs her rest, and so do I. Please, leave."

For a moment, he looked like he might argue further, just like he had done often in the past. But something in her expression made him stop.

It was clear she wouldn't let him get away with it. She would counter his arguments, which would exhaust them further without any beneficial outcome.

Robert grabbed his jacket, movements sharp with frustrated energy as he walked past her. The door closed as soon as he stepped out, and her receding footsteps made it clear that she was tired of putting up with him.

The cool night air did little to calm his racing thoughts. Something about Jonathan—or rather Charlize's deliberate silence on the topic—was eating at him. 

***