Hey guys. Here is the story that I told you about 2 months ago when I was posting the rest of "Autumn". In short it happens years after C.C. and Niles both left the Sheffields (completely unrelated to Dummy Twins), both of them are married and unhappy with their lives and they start an affair. For this story I first of all have to thank negs, without whom this wouldn't have happened.I hope I did our thing justice and made it more three-dimensional than it was at first. Secondly, shoutout to Steffi whom I pitched the idea back in March with the questions "Is this too cliche?" and who responded very eagerly and encouraged me to write this. I also hope I didn't disappoint you. And the third and last shoutout goes to Sally who always reads my stories (and who I still owe the rest of this one) and who gave me some very vital feedback and shaped this story into something entirely different, into something I am very happy with. Now folks, buckle up, this'll have 16 chapters in total...moving in line with the poem "Old love and New" by Sara Teasdale. I really hope you'll enjoy this and PLEASE review to ensure quicker posting of chapters ;)

Faithless

In my heart the old love
Struggled with the new,
It was ghostly waking
All night through.

Chapter 1:

C.C. Babcock had entered the building; there was no doubt about it. The steady click of her heels indicated the path her steps were taking, the same path she had been taking for the past year and a half now. Across the lobby, into the elevator, up to the 24th floor, down the corridor to retrieve the first of many cups of coffee from her secretary, back down the corridor again and into her office where the heels in question would eventually be discarded on the plush carpet.
Everything about her screamed perfection, from her black pencil skirt that stopped precisely 2 centimeters above her knees to the red lipstick that traced the contours of her full lips and her graying hair, neatly pinned up ,not a hair astray. And yet there were several things C.C. Babcock would not consider perfect, several things she hadn't reckoned with. Her whirlwind marriage to Nick Irwin, her return to the world of accountancy and how much all of this bored her to death.
Watching her PC power up, she played absent-mindedly with a pencil, tipping it off balance now and again so that it almost slipped away between her fingers. When she finally became aware of the blue screen that required her password, she set the pencil aside and let her fingers take possession of the keyboard instead. But she only got as far as the first letter, before 2 rapid knocks sounded on her door and someone stepped inside requiring her immediate attention. He was tall with dark curly hair and soft brown eyes that shone happily at the sight of her. In her eyes, on the other hand, that soft look was missing, the only expression akin to emotion in them was that of amusement, for his fine Armani suit clashed awfully with the trainers he was wearing and the bottle of water in his hand that could normally be found as a vital accessory on bikes.

"Shoes are in their usual place," she offered with a small smile before finally entering her password and logging on to her computer.

"Thank you, darling." And he pecked her lips in passing.

She nodded in return and watched him stride across the room to retrieve his shoes, before sinking down on the leather couch. He toyed with the laces for a moment and then looked up at her: "You know I have that meeting tonight? The Strindbergs? I doubt I'll be able to get the groceries and we're running low on-"

"I'll get it," she interrupted calmly and nodded.

"Thanks." And with another quick peck on the lips he left.

She turned her attention back to her computer and opened the first file of the day. Nick and her relationship had never been particularly romantic but then again she preferred it that way. They were working partners first and foremost, but then that had always been his appeal. Their life was fast-paced and work-centric, a constant marathon in which the cooperation of the partner was vital in succeeding.

In the afternoon C.C. found herself far away from the business life and wealth of her usual environment, looking entirely out of place in her fine clothes in a shopping aisle somewhere between cereals and toilet paper. She absent-mindedly tried to locate the cornflakes her husband liked so much, while more thinking about their first encounter. It had been years ago at a backer's party at the Sheffields. Maxwell had told her in advance of rich investor Nick Irwin and stressed numerous times the importance of getting him onboard. So there she had been in a shorter than normal red dress that would've made even Nanny Fine jealous, making her way towards Nick.

"Mr. Irwin, C.C. Babcock, delighted to meet you." She began, taking his hand firmly in her own "I must say you are by far the most handsome man in this room."

She had spoken in her sweetest tones, smiled at him most endearingly and that was why it came as such a shock to her when the man in question simply burst out laughing.

"Your boss put you up to this, didn't he?"

"Excuse me?" she frowned. "Your boss, Maxwell Sheffield, he asked you to reel me in, right?"

"I never head such….alright…" she conceded with a sigh, but seriously doubting her ability to charm added: "How did you know? And he isn't my boss, we're partners."

"Well, for one I'm wearing sneakers at a soiree and secondly I have this annoying piece of spinach stuck between my teeth since I ate that damn fine tart." He chuckled and then proceeded to unceremoniously remove it.

This less than perfect first encounter had somehow led to the development of a romance between the two. He was different than the other guys of her class, had things to offer as she had learned only months later when he had presented her with not only a new working position at his firm, but also a diamond engagement ring. He represented the change she had so desperately been craving and without thought the usually so in control business woman had taken the leap.

"Excuse me? Excuse me, Ma'am…I need to…" and the woman leaned past her to retrieve a can of peas.

"Oh…sorry…" C.C. mumbled and realized she had been lost in thought for several minutes. She rarely confronted herself with the life she'd left behind. But somehow on this day she couldn't shake it off. "An elephant never forgets…" Niles would've said and she chuckled. Those sparring matches were missing too…

If she had been paying more attention she might have noticed a certain ghost of her past who was shopping only two aisles further on. Unlike the business woman Niles Brightmore looked much more in his element in the local supermarket. The best cut of beef in his basket he was now steering self-assuredly to the aisles with olives and sun-dried tomatoes, before adding shrimps to the mix. An odd combination, certainly, and yet not all too surprising for the owner of a restaurant.
The air outside smelled fresh from the newly fallen rain and he dragged up the zipper of his coat with his free hand while taking a deep breath and scanning his environment. The sun was just setting and still the streets of New York City were busy, it had been a beautiful spring day that wasn't marred one bit by the recent fall of rain. The plastic bag jolted gently against his leg as he made his way to his restaurant. This was the favourite walk of his daily routine, the one that made him most free. Far away from the Upper West Side apartment he resided in with his wife Nora Epstein- now Brightmore- he felt the constricting pressure of his chest ease up a bit. Down here in the streets of Soho he was just ordinary Niles, better than a butler but not a husband either. His marriage to Nora was weighing him down each and every day when he was in the house and trapped. It was the one thing he had come to regret most in his life, the mistake he had never erased. Just thinking of her in such a way brought on a wave of guilt so strong that it instantly made him nauseous. She wasn't the failure…he was and always had been where women were concerned. Either he didn't manage to open his mouth and speak of his feelings or he couldn't bear to break a woman's heart and so kept his mouth shut for too long. This was all well and good and had the woman's well-being at heart but there really was no excuse for marrying a woman he didn't love, no matter how chivalrous his intentions might have been. He was forced now to choose between two evils: spend the rest of his life with a woman he didn't love, knowing that each single day was a lie, or finally tell her the truth and die alone, bitter and lonely. There wasn't a good choice really and that was why he pushed the thought away and sought refuge in the safety of his kitchen.

Usually the commotion and stress of his job were enough to take his mind off anything. But on this particular day as he watched Will his young waiter and Oliver his second chef go about their business with such ease, he couldn't help but think back. He had met Nora at a cooking class while still working at the Sheffields. A fellow colleague from the Butler's Association had given him the tip and Niles was never one to refuse some extra cash. It had been a fun weekend but Nora had been the highlight by far. She was a very skilled cook and easy to get along with and it hadn't surprised him all too much that they arranged for another meeting long after class was over. She was a petite brunette with deep blue eyes whose love for detail and accuracy could be seen in the neatness of her clothes and braided hair. She was soft-spoken and gentle and quite a delight as their interests almost matched perfectly. In time Niles had grown to love her tenderly, but with the care and distance of a brother or cousin, not that of a lover. Nonetheless, in her most surprising hour – when gentle Nora had asked for his hand in marriage, rather than vice versa – he had felt utterly unable to turn her down. Maybe in time, he had told himself, he'd come to love her differently…

It seemed too hard to admit now, as he slipped into the silence of their apartment, that he should've erred so bitterly. He took a deep breath and hung up his coat, before quietly padding into the living room for his regular night cap, safe in the knowledge that Nora was fast asleep in their bed. Every night his weight on the mattress would wake her enough to scoot closer and mumble a "goodnight" before drifting off again.
He made it across the living room to retrieve his Whiskey, always aware that Gingerbread or Evil Eye as he liked to call her, was watching. Some years ago Nora had seen a documentary about homeless animals and the state they were in. That night she had greeted him with a tear-streaked face, begging him to let her adopt a kitten. How could he resist her passionate pleas? And how much trouble could a kitten really be? At her descriptions he had instantly envisioned a tiny defenseless tabby cat that fit into the palm of his hand and purred at the lightest touch. Instead he had got Evil Eye, a beast of a cat, ginger and heavy with an angry pushed-in face and two different coloured eyes, one yellow and one blue. She seemed to him a bully of a cat, probably the one who stole all the food from the cute creatures he had pictured. Their mutual hate had been instantaneous, but no matter how many times he shooed her or showed her who the boss was, the annoying thing only hissed and fought back. She had also picked his armchair as her favourite spot to sleep. It now smelled of cat pee and was full of hairs and yet he refused to surrender, he surely wouldn't be beaten into submission by some arrogant feline. Reaching for his feather duster – a memorabilia Nora had insisted he'd keep – he finally managed to scare the cat off. He chuckled in triumph as always when he won a battle and sank with a sigh into his armchair.