The rustling of bags drowned in the sweetest girlish giggling Sophia could - as a daughter of the non-giggling Lloyd clan- produce. The bags were thrown around and emptied in the most natural haste of women who where too tired from walking all day to be patient and too overexcited from their adventures to calm down.

Up in the master bedroom, Sophia had her tiny manicured feet on a random armchair, the rest of her slender self stretched out on where the former man of the house used to sleep. Her eyes were scanning the items she had forced Fiona to buy with an all-overwhelming satisfaction, complementing herself to every piece her fingers caught and held up for inspection. Opposite the room, her sister rolled her eyes of exactly the same shade of green. " I do not understand how an intelligent human being can actually want to  wear these clothes."
Fiona picked up the heels had worn all day, silvery black things with a plastic flower on it, higher than the mount everest. Sophia sat up then, as if she had remembered something. "I bought you a pair as well"
It took Fiona a moment before she realized that her sister did not joke. She lifted the heels up again, imagining how far she'd come with them. "Why do you hate me so much?"
"I don't," Sophia shrugged, pulled out the heels and picked the price stickers off, "I love you," she paused again, robbing off the bed to search through some more bags on the floor. "And as a loving sister of a woman who is back in the jungle of messy single life, it is my duty to prepair you well and make sure you have the most beautiful single bum of England- when I'm not there, of course."

The jungle of messy single life. Fiona sighed. If she had known what came afterward, she might not have thrown Jason out. No matter what it did for the legs and her backside- better a cheating husband than shopping for high heels on high heels. Speaking of which. "It's time to pick up Aidan," she said into the room, catching sight of the alarm clock on her bedside table.
Sophia got up straight away, pulling a black dress into view at the same time. "Fine, but you'll put on this..and these..." She shoved the dress and the heels into her sister's arms "while I'm gone. Otherwise I'll take your son straight back."
The threat was empty, but it still hit the target. Fiona threw the clothes on the bed and began to change. "Just bring him back to me," she said under her jumper, Sophia almost too far gone to hear.
The blonde woman stopped halfway through the front door, shouting upstairs without turning. "You cannot get around this forever, I hope you know that."
No reaction.Silence following. "FIONA?!"
"I know. Now GO!"


The owl tapped on the kitchen window the moment Sophia stormed into the house, empty handed and with a furrowed brow. Fiona stood next to the fridge, rearranging the food she bought for Aidan and herself for the zillionst time. She wore the heels, but she had not walked on them- she had apparated into the kitchen, exactly to the spot she was standing on now. "What did that idiot of a man do now?" Fiona hissed, scanning her sister as if to read her mind. The blonde only shook her head and pointed to the owl.
The historian pulled herself along the countertop to the window, letting the owl in and almost grabbing for the small piece of parchment in the same movement.

"Stop avoiding me and pick up your son yourself."

"I'm going to kill him," she set the paper into flames with a flick of her wand, storming out of the kitchen. Forgotten were the heels and that she couldn't walk on them, forgotten that is was freezing cold outside while she wore a short black dress and no tights.
Sophia let her sister pass, sinking onto the corner seat in the kitchen. There was nothing she could for the two of them but let them face each other in their obvious unhappiness.

She took three stairs at once, almost killing herself, showing her panties to the world. Could she care less? The door bell rang. Rang again. And again.
She banged on the door then, violently, shouting impatiently.
"You better give me my son NOW, you stupid shit!"

Jason had had an interesting October, to say the least. He’d started a new relationship, then it had been on hold (or ended briefly?) after a certain someone put out an article. Then he’d nearly broken his hand and found himself back into the relationship. And for the past few days, having a couple off, he’d been cherishing it. It had been helpful that he’d only had Aidan the last two. And now his mum wanted him back, which was fine—she deserved time with their son as well, and Jason was glad to know she was making time for him.

However, she wasn’t venturing out and physically getting their son. It was as if any interaction with him was against her rules. And after a point, enough was enough. After she had sent Frank to pick up Aidan, diaper bag in tote, it had been enough. Next time, he was going to demand she come herself, if she chose to send another lackey. They were adults, for Merlin’s sake! Sure, she probably didn’t want to deal with him at all right then, but… she had to at some point.

So when Sophia arrived at his door, Jason had very politely told her where she could stuff her help, that Fiona needed to come herself. There had been a short argument, ended with an abrupt close of the door, and he sent off the quickly written letter in case Sophia didn’t convey exactly what he wanted in the right way he needed Fiona to hear. A small smirk came to his lips; she wasn’t going to like it. The owl was off, and he set to making sure Aidan was still napping, sound proofing the little room, allowing for noise to come out but none to go in. It was a very helpful little charm…

And one he had been getting better at, since moving into a small place of his own. It was different, but at the same time… it worked. Dusting off his sweater, Jason relaxed back into his chair, the owl on its way. Glancing through a discarded book on the coffee table, he threw his feet up on the couch.

After a short bit, he heard the first ring of the doorbell. He started to set the book down when he heard the next ring. Rolling his eyes at the impatience of the person at the door, he set his feet down and pushed himself up from the couch when the third bell rang through.

“You better give me my son NOW, you stupid shit!”

He stopped halfway to the door when he heard the pounding on it, smirking to himself as he heard the lovely voice of his ex-wife. Yes, she was not happy with him. Better to be angry than not, he supposed. She dealt well in angry. Finally he reached the door, pulling it open slowly, keeping a foot behind it so she couldn’t slam it open. “Wow there-” Then he saw her and he glanced her over, obviously surprised. A dress? And she was taller than he recalled—then he saw the heels. Tilting his head to the side as he examined them, he finally let his eyes rest on her face.

“You taking him to a dinner party? Have a schedule to keep to?” He held the door open more for her, stepping back to allow her entrance. Sam had gone home earlier to see about getting a babysitter for Lewis, since he was supposed to be free that night. “Please, come in. I’m glad you were able to make it.” Kill ‘em with kindness. He frowned just slightly as he watched her warily. “He’s still napping, though… Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

“Wow there-”

Now that she was standing there right in front of him, Fiona felt the wave of utter anger and aggression that had carried her here safely cease, leaving behind unsteadiness. A lack of self assurance came from somewhere and backstabbed her, it was hard not to reach for the door frame to regain posture.

“You taking him to a dinner party? Have a schedule to keep to?”

She stared at him for a little while. Then another little while. And one after that.

The last thing she had seen of him was the lost expression on his face when she had slammed the door into his face, putting an anger into it that almost burst the strong wood of this Victorian masterpiece of adaptiveness, looking exactly like the doors opposite, left and right from their home.
Fiona had reopened the door that night, wide and welcoming, her mind so far away from the world, so unwelcoming for anything. Looking up and down the street, through windows into enlightened living rooms full of joy and the happiness of couples with their even happier children safely wrapped up under their duvets somewhere upstairs, she wondered where they had gone down a different path. Their house looked just like theirs did, but the story behind that black door was a completely different one than the stories behind the thirty or sixty other doors in this street. In any street.
The young mother searched for hints of a change, of a progress. Something.
Rita Skeeter had done such a perfectly accurate job when she had stripped that man bare of his goodness, leaving behind the never healed scars of passed tragedies and pain and the cruelty of naked sins surrendering in the unforgiving light of the sun.

Hasn't he been punished enough - or was it not even close to what he really deserved?
Every day she unfolded the Daily Prophet to read the newest gossip about this man she had felt her anger fade under her fingers, gripping the print so tightly to hold back the tears for someone she had always thought so genuine....

And who would take her pain away? That pain of non-understanding, of being left somewhere she has never been before without a map and a mind of her own that functioned well? She'd not mind it being replaced by deep public humiliation. She felt she'd be good at dealing with that. Pride was something that came naturally and in heaps to a Scottish woman with Spanish genes.

“Please, come in. I’m glad you were able to make it.”

To say she made an impressive entrance would be so awfully untrue one would fear it hurt.
Even on her wedding day Fiona had managed to avoid heels and the ballerina slippers had quickly been swapped with a pair of yellow wellingtons. It was not necessarily stubbornness, but if she had worn any other shoe, Jason'd have married someone that wasn't really her. Now she went to war in a pair of the highest heels she's ever even walked by.
As straight and safe as possible (not lacking the original you-better-don't-get-in-my-way attitude), Fiona made her way into the living room, ignoring his question altogether.

“He’s still napping, though… Would you like some coffee? Tea?”

"You break my heart and betray me in a way i wouldn't have let anyone in the world betray me by jumping into another woman's bed the first chance you get and all you got is 'Would you like some coffee?' She folded her arms and raised her eyebrows in that typical Amelia-Lloyd-way, pondering.
Was it mere stupidity in front of her, the softest hint of primeval and untouched desires of a man wishing one forgot his weaknesses of will, a hidden longing for normality in an endlessly twisted situation or just...
Just tea? Some coffee, maybe? The blessed ignorance of serving tea with whipped cream and scones has saved people for centuries from all kinds of awkwardnesses, fears, misunderstandings, cruelties, wars and the discomfort of the unspoken word.
You cannot get around this forever, I hope you know that. Sophia's voice floating up the stairs was still in her head.

Without unfolding her arms, she leaned against the backrest of the sofa, she crossed her ankles.
"Napping?"she asked then, randomly changing the topic. Her eyes started searching for a clock.
"It is after six pm, how long do you intend him to be awake later?"

Jason had been at fault, sure. He’d actually committed the adultery. But at the same time… wasn’t it fair to assume that Fiona had a small hand in it? That together they had slowly destroyed their marriage, their relationship? Because… Jason was a loyal guy. Or he had been known for that. To suddenly not be… to suddenly change and do something so idiotic that his mum was having panic attacks over what was happening to her son, and his brother to question who it was he looked up to—well, there had to be explanations.

Somewhere, they had lost something. She was busy, he was busy, and Aidan kept them busier still. When had they made enough time for them? When the door had closed in his face, the few things he’d managed to grab gripped in his hands, Jason had stood there uncertain as to where he should go. If he showed up at his parents… well, he wasn’t sure if he could get away with ‘we’re just having a fight.’ Instead of standing around like a useless ape, which was how he felt, Jason had trudged off to stay at a hotel. Eddie was living at his parents at the time, and they were both a bit too old to have a sleepover, no matter how much his best mate might want it.

Jason stepped back to allow her extra space for the comical entrance, though he tried not to stare too much. He’d always liked that Fiona had been herself. That confidence had been a turn on. Sexy. And she had never wanted or needed to wear heels to off set herself. To see her in them… he wasn’t sure how he felt, other than slightly confused. Maybe she was heading off on a date? But then… why would she need Aidan back? If she wasn’t going to be home… Then he realized that she could be on a date.

And he suddenly felt an odd pang of jealousy. Not that he should; he’d done that and worse since before the separation. It was just a naturally stupid reaction that he tried to brush off. If she wanted to date some idiot who would do her bidding… then good for her.

“You break my heart and betray me in a way I wouldn’t have let anyone in the world betray me by jumping into another woman’s bed the first chance you get and all you got is ‘Would you like some coffee?’”

He took in a breath and tried to hide the shock that filtered across his face. Yes… she’d never been one to beat around the bush. With the door closed behind him, he just hoped someone knew to come and check on him if they didn’t hear from him after a few hours… Then his hands found their way to his pocket, allowing him something to do instead of fiddling with his hair like he normally would. A light blush tinged his cheeks and he finally broke her gaze, glancing down to the area between them. “I just…”

“Napping?”

Blinking, he glanced up and frowned, seeing her relaxing against the sofa. A hand subconsciously freed itself from his dark trouser pocket, rubbing the back of his head as he watched her. Why was it a big deal that Aidan was napping? Didn’t she let him do that?

“It is after six pm, how long do you intend him to be awake later?”

He tried not to let her insinuation bother him. He let out a huff and pursed his lips, shrugging a little. “I figured that wasn’t going to be my problem.” Not the best way to go about handling it. He gripped the back of his head, tugging lightly before he put his hand back in his pocket, digging in and rocking slightly on his heels. “Plus, I didn’t want to send him off to you sleepy. Time to spend with Aidan… Plus he was worn out from our outing today.”

Jason had thought she might make some sort of contact with him after she kicked him out. When nothing else happened but the divorce, he’d slowly given up on working things out. He’d wounded her… and he understood that was hard for her. “And I didn’t jump in the first chance I got, Fi.” He winced and glanced down at his feet, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He frowned hard and finally looked up at her. “It just… it did, and then I didn’t know how to make it right.”

“I figured that wasn’t going to be my problem.”

„Nothing ever is“It was mumbled only, slipped out before she could think about it. That was called frustration, she figured.

“Plus, I didn’t want to send him off to you sleepy. Time to spend with Aidan… Plus he was worn out from our outing today.”

Nodding was all she could do, then. „Okay, fine.“, she answered distantly. It didn't matter to her anyway as long as Aiden was safe and sound. Healthy. Happy, if that was not too much to ask for in this unhappy situation. One could only thank God he was so young and pray that he wouldn't remember any of it, would never carry away even the smallest percentage of wounds his parents would carry along with them for a while.

“And I didn’t jump in the first chance I got, Fi.”

The historian moved over into the sofa corner furthest away from him, scanning him in the vain search of the right reaction. Something to say that didn't betray who she has always been.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.It just… it did, and then I didn’t know how to make it right.”

When Jason looked up at her, Fiona only caught his gaze for a split-second, but broke away when she realized she couldn't held himself the same time she tried to hold herself.
The young woman had never been much of a crybaby. At all. Crying was a sign of weakness she had never allowed herself, no matter how dark the room, how far away the place.
But her heart sank there and then, slowly out her chest into a nowhere of emptiness that she felt was unreachable. Gripping her elbows, she swallowed hard. Sophia should be cursed for allowing her to wear a ponytail, not the usual waterfall of reddish brown curl she could hide her anger so well in.
Where was that steadiness, that neverending stubborness that would've rather died than ebbing away for the most uncomfortable feeling of all?
A deep breath didn't help, the eyes were still full of tears, there was no voice to be found- nowhere.

The time of hiding ended right there, she was as stripped bare of all of her walls as he had been weeks ago. With the tears running down, her hands started shaking and she stared down at them in disbelief. This had not been the plan. Never.
Fiona leaned back and stared at the ceiling, thinking of something to say. Her hands still gripped her  elbows so tightly the knuckles lost their colour.

„How often exactly did you not mean for it happen, Jason? Once? Twice?“ she shook her head then, as if in a deep conversation with no one but herself. „No, don't say anything. I don't think I wanna know“ Fiona lifted her head to look at him „I just want my son and then I'm out of here if you don't mind.“
The sadness did not ebb away, but she felt that tiny moment of lost control pass, giving her the hope of not having to leave this place with a shattered pride.

“Nothing ever is.”

Jason thought he heard her right, and he only frowned in response. He supposed she could have that opinion of him, considering their current relationship. Or lack of.

“Okay, fine.”

He waited for more. She was not normally a very internalized emotional woman, to say the least. Jason was used to hearing what was on her mind, no matter how off the wall or spot on it was. So when she didn’t come forth with more, when she just… accepted it and left it there, he was a little more worried than before. Her being at his apartment alone should have caused some health concerns, what with few witnesses and such. But this was a different side to her normal behavior.

Was the world ending? He felt that he should at least explain something to her, since she was there. She deserved a more heartfelt explanation than what he’d given her at the house months before, right? Even if she didn’t seem to want it, evidenced by the fact that this was the first time she had met with him since she’d kicked him out. His owl’s had been unanswered, or undelivered—he wasn’t really sure which. Regardless, she hadn’t made any extra effort to show she had wanted to make it work. And at this point, he couldn’t say he wasn’t at least okay with that.

When she sat on his couch, he stood where he was, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He moved slowly towards her, stopping when he saw the tears—that wasn’t his Fiona. He felt guilt settle in the pit of his stomach, and his hands dug deeper into his trousers, trying to busy themselves with anything else. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t—he’d caused that break down of the stone cold woman he’d known for years.

“How often exactly did you not mean for it happen, Jason? Once? Twice?”

His mouth opened in shock, closed in disbelief, and his eyes widened in uncertainty. She had him there. A hand unearthed itself from his trousers and rubbed at his eyes, not daring himself to speak. She didn’t really want to know, right? An embarrassed blush came to his cheeks as he tried to concentrate. He hadn’t meant for it to happen, that much was true! But after that… he really hadn’t had an idea of how to stop it either. So it had happened again and again. Not that he would tell her that, of course. It would only hurt her, and it was useless information anyway.

“No, don’t say anything. I don’t think I wanna know.”

His hand moved down his face until it covered his mouth, staring at her in silence, torn in how he was feeling. She didn’t want to know, he knew that much. It was in his best interest that she stay in the dark as well, lest she switch back into her normal attitude and unleash hell on him in his little apartment.

“I just want my son and then I’m out of here if you don’t mind.”

If there wasn’t Aidan to keep them together, Jason doubted they would ever see each other again. Not unless they made attempts to. She certainly didn’t want to see him, and he hadn’t made extra attempts to run into her either. He had to decide rather quickly if he valued his life more than he valued his dignity. And if they even mattered in this situation. Finally he stepped forward, towards Aidan’s room, though he stopped just before the door.

He grimaced as he realized what he was about to do. The worst thing was he could use their son as a shield, being so close to the room. Leaning on the door frame, he rubbed his eyes before letting his arm hang down. “I’m sure you read the article.” He glanced down, frowning at his shoes. “I am seeing someone else…” And that ultimately meant their son had seen her too, if he hadn’t mentioned Sam’s name  yet.

“I’m sure you read the article.I am seeing someone else…”

The grip tightened, turning a simple folding of arms in a desperate hugging  of the self.
But she lost it completely then. Jumping up she almost lost her balance, the desperation and fury and maybe even frustration dancing in her stare, swimming in her tears down her face,overwhelming her.

"Did I ever lie to you, Jason? Did I ever pretend to be someone I'm not?"
Her thoughts almost rushed through her head, not stopping or making sense.
"Did I ever- EVER-" she screamed that almost,"give you the impression of a woman loving the idea of being a wife and a mother?Did I say I wouldn't have problems and difficulties?"

Questions over questions escaped her mouth, her heart. Endless piles of it from a storage larger than anything. They flooded out, escaped that place as if it was burning.

"When we married, Jason, I swore to be by your side until death do us part. I swore I would not leave you, to be always there no matter how difficult it would be for me."

And maybe it was burning.

"You KNEW I did not want this, but i still stood there that day in a white dress with everyone there hearing me say "I do" and everyone knowing that no matter how difficult it would ever be for me, I meant it. Where were you with your mind when that happened, Jason? Hawaii?"

She made an attempt to pace around the room, but only made a few steps until resigning.

"When we got Aiden, did you not know that I never wanted children and that i was concerned I'd not be the right person to raise a child?"


She took a deep breath, sorting her feelings a little to make an attempt to explain what was going on inside of her. “I'm going to say this only once, Jason, and then never again. So listen carefully."

"I love you, Jason Marren. And I love Aidan. Always have, always will. More than anything in the world."

A dramatic pause for effect. Or the fighting of helplessness, maybe.

"But day by day since his birth I wake up and I wonder if I'm doing everything right. If he's okay. Was I good mom? A good wife? I felt so scared and trapped and I didn't know where to go without hurting you two. I didn't want you to feel like you made me do something, because despite anything I ever thought I wanted I didn't want to lose you. This. Him.“

Fiona took the deepest breath she could, her hands still shaking violentl, the stream of tears still flowing.

„What exactly did you expect me to do when you told me?“

„Did you even realize it was me sitting there- the woman you married? The woman you knew would forgive anything in the world- as long as you did not betray her?
Tell me, Jason: did you not know who you married? Did I ever pretend to be something I am not?“

Fiona spread her arms, demonstrating her question by standing in the middle of his living room in high heels. Then, quickly, she sighed again and her arms sank to her side. She had lost this fight, she knew that well enough. But she couldn't have walked around forever with all those questions in her mind.

„I know. I read the articles.“


„But please don't ever expect me to understand or forgive that.“

He really hadn’t had a clue where to start. So when she bolted up off the couch, he jumped and refocused, lazily reaching for the doorknob. So much for using his son as a shield; he wasn’t even paying enough attention to reach the door. Still, his heart started to calm down, though he saw that face, the pain and hurt he’d caused her evident. And he felt the guilt settle in, like a knife between the ribs.

“Did I ever lie to you, Jason? Did I ever pretend to be someone I’m not?”

Jason blinked at her, frowning slightly. No, she’d always been very brash about who she was… and as far as he knew, she was a very honest person. Answering right then, though, seemed wrong; weren’t these rhetorical questions?

“Did I ever-EVER-give you the impression of a woman loving the idea of being a wife and a mother? Did I say I wouldn’t have problems and difficulties?”

His frown deepened. He gave a slight shake of the head before glancing down once again, crossing his arms over his chest. His lips pursed as he considered her questions, finally looking up once again to meet her gaze. “No, you never gave that impression.” She’d certainly complained often enough about it, hadn’t she? Her entire pregnancy had been wrought with curses lobbed his way, hadn’t it? Sure, her attitude towards Aidan had changed when he was born, and she loved him dearly—but maybe… maybe she still blamed him for forcing her into motherhood.

“When we married, Jason, I swore to be by your side until death do us part. I swore I would not leave you, to be always there no matter how difficult it would be for me.”

He was feeling a little uncomfortable now. How many times had they argued about it? Glancing to the side, he grimaced. Not many, perhaps, but enough that he knew how much she’d not wanted to get married. His arms tightened as he stood up straighter. He recalled the marriage vows. His eyes once again flickered back to her face. He was guilty of screwing things up, he knew that. The vows meant little now, didn’t they? Flung aside in a divorce, stomped on by his wandering lust.

“You KNEW I did not want this, but I still stood there that day in a white dress with everyone there hearing me say “I do” and everyone knowing that no matter how difficult it would ever be for me, I meant it. Where were you with your mind when that happened, Jason? Hawaii?”

A grimace overcame him as he felt his blood boil. “I remember being the happy little guy next to you, saying the same damned things, Fiona.” She was starting to get under his skin now, and he rolled his shoulders, feeling indignation settle in. Hawaii would have been a nice destination. “I was there then!” He had put off marriage for how long? It wasn’t until he thought he loved her so incredibly much that he couldn’t imagine anything else that he’d brought up marriage. And even then it had been a fight.

“When we got Aidan, did you not know that I never wanted children and that I was concerned I’d not be the right person to raise a child?”

Jason had watched her warily as she paced, glancing from the heels to her face again—and he found it very inappropriate to wonder how it felt to be stuck in those heels. She hadn’t had much choice in Aidan. He had been very upset with her near death experience, when she wound up in the kitchen, leaving his heart crushed—that she went to a job where she could be killed, with no stop to consider what she was leaving behind. Yes, he’d asked for a child, something to hold on to when she didn’t come back.

“I’m going to say this only once, Jason, and then never again. So listen carefully.”

Blinking, he felt some of his resolve go out as she seemed to focus. His shoulders relaxed a little, and his arms loosened from their defensive stance across his chest. And he listened.

“I love you, Jason Marren. And I love Aidan. Always have, always will. More than anything in the world.”

And there he felt that knife push a little farther between his ribs, making it a little harder to breathe. Gritting his teeth, he pursed his lips slightly. She was allowed to say things like that?! However, he’d asked for this, hadn’t he? By inviting her over, he invited everything that hadn’t been said. Everything she needed to say. So he could deal with her pain and her words because she deserved to get them off her chest.

“But day by day since his birth—”

Jason listened as she went on, his eyes softening a little, a hand reaching up and rubbing at them. Then his hand moved down to rest over his mouth, and he considered all that had happened.

“What exactly did you expect me to do when you told me? Did you even realize it was me sitting there- the woman you married? The woman you knew would forgive anything in the world- as long as you did not betray her? Tell me, Jason: did you not know who you married? Did I ever pretend to be something I am not?”

His eyes refocused on her face, and he considered her questions as she stood there. If he didn’t respond to her questions, if he didn’t let off his chest what he needed to, he wasn’t going to get another chance. His mouth opened as her sigh came out, and he frowned. Hold on there, wasn’t he going to get a chance before she gave up? Or was she throwing rhetorical question after abstract question after him just because?

“I know. I read the articles… But please don’t ever expect me to understand or forgive that.”

This time, he clenched his fists. A step forward, a step back. What was he doing? Then he moved forward again, a little less certain this time. It wasn’t necessarily safe to get close to her again, but it wasn’t the worst thing he could do either. He had things to say himself. And so he rested his hands on the back of the sofa, staring at her and frowning slightly. “You never wanted to marry, you never wanted kids. Did you regret either of those decisions? Before…” He waved a hand slightly, pursing his lips. “Before what I did. Because I didn’t. How long did it take for us to get married? I was going to be the oldest bachelor in the world! But it changed when I fell in love with you.”

He gripped the back of the sofa and shook his head, glancing down, considering. “Suddenly I didn’t care about anything else, but having some way to be closer to you. And even when we married, I certainly didn’t want to step into fatherhood—not so quickly, anyway.” His eyes snapped up towards her face. “You came home—you came to me-” And a hand lifted up, pounding against his chest. “-almost dead! I had never been so scared in my life! The woman who I loved, who left me all the time for something she seemed to care more about, was going to leave me alone for the rest of my life. So, yes. I know you weren’t a mother, I know you swore you’d never be a mother. But here you are, and it’s worked out pretty well.”

He pushed off the sofa, standing back up, pacing behind it slightly before stopping. “I never asked for your forgiveness. I knew what I did was the worst kind of betrayal. I didn’t try to explain it either, did I?” Shaking his head, he crossed his arms over his chest again. “How long had our marriage been a convenience? Something you could come back to when you were done with whatever you did? You never wanted to include me in your career, in the things that took you away from me. There was Jason, and then there was work. And I quickly became… whatever you needed me for whenever you wanted.” That was how he’d felt. “So, yes, I’m the dick for cheating. I’m the biggest arse for having an affair. I ended our marriage. But I didn’t do it alone.”

"How long had our marriage been a convenience? Something you could come back to when you were done with whatever you did? You never wanted to include me in your career, in the things that took you away from me. There was Jason, and then there was work. And I quickly became… whatever you needed me for whenever you wanted.So, yes, I’m the dick for cheating. I’m the biggest arse for having an affair. I ended our marriage. But I didn’t do it alone.”


Distance.
An empty space between people standing right next other, hearing each other hearts beating but not knowing how to interpret it. Emptiness full of undefined feelings and unspoken words. Tears without meanings, meanings full of tears. And so much desperation.
Did time matter? Did it help, when one touched the other?
Fiona reached out then, staring into that neverending distance (endlessness packed into a tiny meter of helplessness, darkness), touching his sleeve with two fingers only.
She held it for a second..
 then let go, sighing as the hoped for enlightment didn't come to her.

The historian sighed again and her lips broke into a smile, her head shaking. "A convenience.“ she repeated. "Really?“ Poor him having a mean wife. Poor him having to go somewhere else to find some love and attention. She rubbed her chest with her heel of hand, as if that could take any of the pain away.
"Did it ever occur to you that I was scared shitless? That I was so scared you'd find out I wasn't the one for you, that you'd leave me for someone who could cook and bake and who wore skirts and smiled more?“

Her feet hurt and her knees didn't really feel like standing anymore. Fiona sat down on the floor, brushing the heels off in the process, and stretched her legs from her.
"I know, Jason“, she said to the floor more than to him, refolding her arms, "I know I was the worst wife imanigeable and...“
Pausing, Fiona shrugged. "I'm sorry.“

"I just don't know why the things changed from a marriage with problems to a cheating ex-husband forcing me to come and see him so he could ask me whether I have opened the newspaper to find out about his newest love affairs. And why you never came and told me that you were unhappy.“

Her eyes scanned him carefully and she felt the calmness set in as she just accepted that it made no sense to try and stop the tears from flowing. These minutes they deserved all- he and Aiden and herself, their ended marriage and her tears. Maybe they could get their hearts and minds out of this a little less shattered, then, and move on a little less broken inside.

"Then I could have told you that I was unhappy, too. And maybe we couldn't have worked things out, but I would have never had to come home to someone who had, all by himself, ended this marriage in another woman's bed.“

Jason tried not flinch or jump or at least hide his vital parts when she reached out for him. He was surprised, though he tried not to show it, when she only grasped his sleeve. Momentarily he glanced down to it, watching quietly, unsure of what it might mean or what might happen after. The breath he’d been holding left him when she let go. Then he saw that smile, and he stood up straight again, his shoulders no longer slumped—that wasn’t necessarily a good smile.

“A convenience… Really?”

He felt the sarcasm, and he merely stared ahead, considering possible responses before quickly dismissing them and concentrating on the moment. They were allowed to get these feelings off their chest. Or he thought they both should. She clearly hadn’t been able to get past what he’d done long enough to see him to pick up their son. Well, except today, when he was through playing that game.

“Did it ever occur to you that I was scared shitless? That I was so scared you’d find out I wasn’t the one for you, that you’d leave me for someone who could cook and bake and who wore skirts and smiled more?”

He grit his teeth, his lips pursing slightly—clearly he’d given in to her nightmares. “You know I never cared about those things.” He wanted someone who wanted to be with him more than they wanted to be away from him. They both deserved someone who fit their personalities more, didn’t they? Opposite attract, sure, but to what degree? To what level is it too opposite? She liked her distance, he liked to be close.

His eyes widened as she sat down on the floor, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. His hands moved to his trousers, hiding in his pockets, before coming back out and across his chest, eyeing the heels. Those looked like a contraption for pain that he was glad to not have. He took in a sharp breath, not sure whether to reprimand her for playing the pity card, or letting the guilt that nagged at him settle in deeper. When she apologized, he held the breath before letting it out slowly, finally shrugging slightly.

Then she was tugging at his anger again, and he grit his teeth, clenching his fists as he kept his arms crossed defiantly over his chest. He knew he was getting the backlash he probably deserved—he had cheated. And while Jason didn’t think it was very fair to constantly be reminded of it, there was little he could do but accept it.

“-so he could ask me whether I have opened the newspaper to find out about his newest love affairs-”

“I did not bring that up just-” He grit his teeth—it wasn’t worth talking over her when she kept on talking. He was irritated that he couldn’t defend himself. At least not easily. So he gripped his arms a little tighter across his chest and waited.

“-And why you never came and told me that you were unhappy.”

He supposed that should have been the logical thing to do. It had just happened so fast, and… well, he’d all ready explained that he hadn’t had a clue how to stop it once it began. Doing it once was bad enough, and sure he understood doing it more than once only made it worse—but the fact it’d been done… well, Jason had just been putting off telling her how he’d felt, and then he did the deed and here he was. He took a slow breath, pursing his lips slightly, watching her.

“Then I could have told you that I was unhappy, too. And maybe we couldn’t have worked things out, but I would have never had to come home to someone who had, all by himself, ended this marriage in another woman’s bed.”

Jason frowned at her. All by himself? For a moment, he stared at her in disbelief. Then he moved a hand to his head, closed his eyes, and ran his hand over his face. Finally he rested his hand against his chin, staring at her a moment more of silence. They had argued now and again, sure, but this was one of the most uncomfortable conversations they’d had. Or the most uncomfortable.

Finally he decided he could respond without yelling at her. “So we were both unhappy.” How could she have been unhappy?! Hadn’t he tried to make everything great for her? Aside from his mistake(s), of course, he’d tried to keep her happy at home. He suddenly wanted to know how she was unhappy after all that. Still… he was having a hard time talking. “But all by myself? That’s not very fair. I have all ready accepted I screwed up. But I did not do this ‘all by myself.’”

And then his curiosity got the better of him. His face screwed up, and he let his hand drop from his chin to rest across his chest once again. “How were you unhappy?”