Ask and ye shall receive! As requested by Samantha - a further chapter from Bernie's point of view! Not proof read, and written without a plan, so a bit all over the place!
Bernie sat in the hotel bar, not quite ready to retreat to the solitude of her room quite yet.
She had returned to Cameron's bedside after making her attempt at an apology to Serena, quietly mulling over the older woman's parting words as she had watched her go.
It was hard to admit, but in speaking to Cameron, perhaps more openly than she ever had before, she had discovered that he no longer the little boy she remembered. He was growing up. Somehow, he was becoming a capable, intelligent young man.
There were moments during the conversation when she even doubted he could be hers. He certainly didn't inherit in capacity for emotional intelligence from her, and Marcus wasn't much better. Yet somehow, the unique blend of genes and life experience had granted Cameron a wisdom she could only marvel at.
He didn't hate her. That had come as a relief. What had surprised her more though, was he wanted to understand, to encourage. He didn't want to judge, as his father had done. He wasn't angry at her for tearing the family apart. He was sad for her, that she had hidden that side of herself away for so long.
"It can't be Alex anymore, can it?" he had asked, his eyes searching her face. "You'll always love her, but it can't be her. Not now. You'd never be able to forgive yourself with her as a constant reminder."
His insight was uncanny. Bernie hadn't been able to put it into such a coherent few words, but she had known for some time now that she could never make it work with Alex now. It had to be a new start. She couldn't look at Alex every day and be reminded of her lies and deceit, of being the one to rip her family apart. Alex wanted her whole and healed…but she could never be that with her. There would always be the guilt, the regret at how it had all unfolded. Of course, her emotionally incapable self had yet to say so much to Alex, the coward in her hoping that as time passed, the woman would give up and realise on her own.
Learning that Alex had gone to the house suggested otherwise and Bernie made a mental note to finally make contact, and put an end to the matter once and for all. She made a further mental note to be 100% sober when she did so.
"Dad blew up at her," Cameron had said. "Said some stupid things. She gave as good as she got, but didn't hang around long. I think she realised she wasn't getting anywhere." He had kept his gaze on her, waiting for her to final raise her eyes. "Have you spoken to her?"
Bernie had shaken her head, which was apparently the only answer Cameron had needed. He had spoken about her work for a while after that, asking about the trauma centre. She should have seen it coming, but was somehow left surprised when he used it as a neat segue to get back to Serena.
He was gentle in his probing, which Bernie had been thankful for, his earlier comments having already floored her. He had asked when they met, laughed at hearing how they argued and had finally reached for her hand, when in the middle of recounting a story, she had trailed, off, smiling to herself. "It's okay to move on, mum. It's okay to want to be happy."
But was it? After all the hurt she had caused? Wasn't seeking her own happiness now simply selfish? She asked herself silently as she sipped her whisky sour. She had almost ordered shiraz, before an unbidden memory of one of she and Serena's many trips to Albie's had surfaced, and she had changed her order. Serena was on her mind enough tonight without further reminders.
Swirling the amber liquid in her glass, she found she couldn't stop her mind from drifting back to Serena's words as they'd parted ways that night. 'That's what love is, I suppose. Defending the indefensible.'
What the hell was that? A statement of understanding? An acceptance of her apology? Or dare she dream, an admission? She groaned as she placed her empty glass on the table. She was driving herself mad, her mind going in circles over the same questions.
It couldn't be an acceptance of her apology, she reasoned, on the basis that she had never even really made one. Hadn't even thanked Serena, either she realised. The woman had dealt with her lying, disappearing and quite frankly ignoring her duties the entire day, and a few sharp words aside, had let the whole thing slide. Something Bernie knew was not in the older woman's character.
Against her better judgement, she picked up her phone, staring at the screen blankly for a few moments before her concentration was interrupted by a light tap on her shoulder.
"Another?" the waitress asked, indicating her empty glass.
Bernie hesitated. She shouldn't. "Please." Turning her attention back to her phone, she opened up a new message to Serena, typing slowly as she tried to write what she had been unable to say earlier in the day.
'Thank you for being very much you today – and for being so understanding. I owe you and apology and much more besides. Honestly don't know what I'd do without you.'
It was too much and not enough all that the same time. Her finger hovered over the send button, only to be interrupted once again by her waitress bringing her her drink. Thanking the young woman with a smile, she placed her phone down on the table, deciding that if by the end of her drink, if she hadn't deleted the message, she would send whatever remained on the screen. It may not have been a well-known fact, but Berenice Wolfe was a fan of words, and a quiet fan of poetry, literature and drama, believing that it was important that the right words were used at the right time, part of the reason she was often so economical with her own.
Long minutes passed as she drank, edited her message, drank, and then changed it back again. Finally placing down the empty glass, Bernie took a deep breath before closing her eyes and blindly jabbing the send button on the screen. Opening her eyes, Bernie felt the panic set in. She could honestly say she had stood in the middle of active warzones and felt less fear than she did staring at her screen, simultaneously willing the brunette to reply, and hoping her message was simply ignored.
Catching the eye of her waitress, she ordered another drink, quick to wrap her hand around it when it was placed in front of her. She forced herself to sip the drink, rather than gulp it down as she had with her previous glass, all the while keeping up her silent vigil on her phone. She almost yelped when it vibrated on the table, Serena's name appearing. Quickly opening the message, Bernie read over the words, before closing the message in disbelief, only to open it again a few seconds later and read over the words more slowly.
'After all I've seen I dread to think what chaos you'd get yourself into without me. And you don't need to thank me. Against my better judgement, it seems I'm always in your corner. If you do feel you owe me, however, why not pay me back with drinks? And I don't mean the cheap plonk in Albie's!'
What on earth was she to say to that? Did Serena realise what she was implying? She was practically suggesting Bernie ask her out! She put her phone back on the table, downing the rest of her drink in one.
The question of whether Bernie would like to ask her out, as far as the blonde was concerned, had been asked and answered in her own head at this point. Who else did she seek out just for the pleasure of their company? Who else was she so physically comfortable with? Who else did she give quite so much of a damn about? Serena had come into her life and Bernie, true to form, had made mistake after mistake with her, and yet the brunette had stuck by her. For crying out loud, the woman had gone to Hansen and gifted her a trauma unit.
She let out a sigh, her head hanging low. Serena had been right, she didn't show her appreciation for that, or how much the brunette did for her. Maybe now, however, she had the chance. Taking hold of her phone once more, she typed her reply, not allowing herself to hesitate this time.
'You have no idea how thankful I am to have you in my corner. How would you feel about those drinks accompanying dinner? That is, if you trust me to book somewhere…'