A/N: I haven't written Fanfiction in forever, but Season 1 and 2 Eleanor called out to me when I was rewatching the series. Maybe I understand her general apathy and coldness towards Blair more now than I ever did before.
Enjoy.
They were in love.
It should've been the beginning of the story, but it felt like so much more of an end than she was willing to accept.
He sighed those words on their wedding night. Over and over.
"I'm gay. I'm gay."
She cried as she climaxed, tears of pain streaming down her face.
"I love you Eleanor. I do," he said as he wiped the tears away. "I'll just never love you."
Truth: she was in love with him.
Her belly swelled with child, her figure accentuating her failure. You're a trophy wife, Eleanor Waldorf; he will never be in love with you.
She allowed him his indiscretions, turning a blind eye as she rose in the world of fashion. Her new line is a hit. So is her oh-so-Harold-daughter.
"Blair," she whispered. "Blair Cornelia."
She made it about her, even if it wasn't at all.
It doesn't stop him from running off, time and time again.
Eleanor wondered how long it will be before he decided not to come back. (When he did decide, 15 years into their daughter's life, Eleanor hated herself for letting it drag on this long).
Blair never forgave her. Never forgave Harold.
Eleanor never forgot.
Lie: She learned how not to love him.
Fact: Eleanor Waldorf is the both the weakest and strongest woman she knows. (And Cyrus, wonderful Cyrus-She learned to move on).