Three weeks after telling Dan her heart belonged to him, she slept with Chuck. The pang of guilt that bothered her heart didn't turn into a boulder of guilt in the pit of her stomach until she came, cheeks flushed with a handful of his hair keeping his mouth from kissing her.
"Don't," she said, already feeling sick with dread.
"Don't tell me you're feeling remorse because of Humphrey."
Ignoring him, Blair begins the gather her clothes.
"The guy is a Neanderthal. Honestly, I don't know what you—"
"Enough! You don't get to talk about him that way."
She doesn't know why she did it. Dan is the kindest person she's ever met and he so obviously cares about her, why would she fuck it up? All the false starts and the difficulty connecting intimately with Dan bothered her more than she wanted to let on. She was weak and sought comfort in the familiar. Chuck.
/+\\
Having to tell Dan is the hardest thing she's ever done. He's so happy to see her, has no idea what lies ahead of him.
"I made dinner," he tells her, kissing her sweetly when she walks through the door of the loft.
Smiling weakly and trying not to vomit, she looks around for signs of Lily or Rufus.
"I convinced them to go out and made them swear to find other accommodations for the evening," he says upon noticing her curiosity.
He looks so damn proud of himself, she feels even worse. "I have to tell you something."
It doesn't take more than a few seconds for his smile to fade. "Okay," he says after a breath, steeling himself for what she's sure he knew would happen all along.
"I slept with Chuck."
Dan closes his eyes as if he's just witnessed some accident and is trying to prevent his mind from committing it to memory. As if it was what he was expecting to hear but hoping not to all at the same time. He stands there for a long time staring at the hardwood floor, clenching and unclenching his jaw.
"Say something," she finally whispers.
"I don't know what to say, Blair." He says her name as if it's toxic. "You've cheated on every guy you've ever dated with Chuck; I don't know why I should be any different."
"I'm so sorry."
He's looking at her now, eyes dark and steady. "If you wanted to be with Chuck, why couldn't you have just been with him? You know I would do anything to make you happy, even step aside and let you have your 'Happily Ever After' with him. I just don't—after everything I—everything we've been through, I just—why couldn't you leave me out of this?"
She says nothing, looks at him hopelessly, eyes wide and full of tears, something that would've bothered him before. "I'm so sorry."
"I loved you," he says. It's the first time he's said it, although she's known it all along and it's the final straw. She cries and he looks at her as if he doesn't know her, can't see what he ever saw in her. "Have a nice life," he says, clichéd, as he grabs his jacket and storms out.