Blair Waldorf didn't even bother setting her alarm for the next day because she knew she would be awake before. In fact she didn't bother to try to sleep at all. He was expecting her like he did every year because she was the only one that really knew the truth.
With a sigh, she swung her legs over the side of her canopy bed and made her way to her closet. From there she grabbed a simple grey coat and made her way out of her bedroom. Each step squeaked as she made her way down the stairs, echoing off the empty apartment.
She turned her head and glanced at the clock behind her while waiting for the elevator. It read 11:30pm. She tapped her foot impatiently, curls bouncing, as the elevator sluggishly opened. Once inside she admired once again the ornate details of the interior just like she had always done.
The night was chilly for spring and the limo was already waiting, just a small sign that he was expecting her already. "Chuck did do things in style," she thought to herself as she climbed into the car that would take her to The Palace. She breathed in the leathery scent of the seats and sat in anticipation.
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This year would be the same. Chuck would spend the day in his suite drinking until he passed out to help pass the pain. It was impossible to believe that one simple day could affect him this much, could cause him this much grief. Only one person knew how he really felt. That was Blair. He had confided in her years ago, only because she had already figured most of it out.
He sat quietly at the bar, drumming his fingers on the clean glass surface. He wondered if the limo had arrived yet at her penthouse. Wondered if she would come again this year. Stifling a yawn, he walked over to his neatly made bed and sat on it. His hair sank into the soft, down pillows and his eyes slowly flickered close. His last coherent thought being, "Will this year be any different?"
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Blair silently crept through the halls of The Palace, the route she was on already memorized and emblazoned in her head. The silent ticks of the grandfather clock nearest her calmed her unsteady heart. She grasped the doorknob tightly and pulled the door open to reveal Chuck soundly sleeping in his bed.
She breathed a sigh of relief and silently padded to the bed. She tried not to make any noise as she lay next to him. Her hands brushing the brown locks out of his eyes. The expression on his face was peaceful, not exposing the pain she was sure he felt. She glanced at the clock again. This time it read, 12:01. "Happy Mother's Day Chuck," she thought miserably to herself.
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