he didn't regret it
He stood at the end of the docks, looking out over the sea. The ocean's waters waved and moved in the night's light, the moon cast down over them, the stars twinkling brightly in the black blanket overhead that was the sky. There was an empty spot that had been empty for almost a year now, and it would remain empty.
But he told himself he didn't regret it. Whether that was a lie or not, Hook still hadn't figured out. He told himself that the empty spot didn't sting every time he looked at it, that it didn't feel like a wound was opening up in his heart that wouldn't be repaired-- Because the price had been worth it. He'd had to do it, had to give it up, because there had been no other way. She's not just a ship, he had told Smee, and he had been right. He hadn't been lying when he'd said those words and now-- now he was coming to realize just how much he'd really meant them.
Now that she was gone. Truly gone. Not just missing. Not just misplaced. But gone. Given away. All for the purpose of bringing Swan home. Which is something he didn't regret--at least that's what he told himself, over and over, day after day, when the doubts and thoughts would start to creep up again. When he would remember their conversation in the bar and his heart would break all over again. It had been bad enough when there were still questions, still things hanging in the air; when there had been a chance that maybe--
But even that, too, was gone.
So what did he have left? He'd given it all up, for her happiness, and he was left alone, without anything at all. But he didn't regret it--
Did he...?