A/N: Slightly AU during the conversation between Chuck and Blair at the end of 4.09 – The Witches of Bushwick. What if that lovely C/B moment – "if two people are meant to be together…" didn't quite turn out the way that it did? What if instead, Blair walked away? Set about five years into the future…give or take a couple of months. Also, the Juliet drugging Serena thing never happened. C/B.
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When Chuck had purchased the penthouse, location had been of the most importance—it was about a ten minute drive to Bass Industries, and if he was feeling particularly restless, it was under a half hour walk. The building had been more than ideal—it had a beautiful dark brick exterior with numerous period detailing—including high, arched ceilings, intricate wood paneling, pocket doors and moldings galore. Spanning the entire length of one wall was floor-to-ceiling windows that had panoramic views from Central Park to the city lights of Manhattan. He had fallen in love with it and had impulsively purchased the top three floors, with the intention of converting it into a three-story palace, eventually. The place would one day become a home.
He put in an all cash offer and had the papers signed within a week of seeing it. When he brought Henry here she had just looked at him wryly and said, nothing in small measures? But she had understood his logic behind it, after all he hadn't even thought to look for a place until she had confronted him. This was a place that he could bring Blair one day, when they finally found their way back to each other. And after they got married but before they had children, Blair could customize it to her heart's content, connecting the lower two floors to their liking. It's what had caused him to send Blair the Harry Winston diamond choker—the last present he sent her. He had known how much she had wanted it their senior year in high school, but they had spent too much time playing the ILY game. He had thought when she opened it, she would see that he was done playing games.
Chuck had had the architects build two large walk-in closets on each side of the master bathroom, hers being quite larger. He used to look at the closet door each morning he woke up, it gave him hope about what could be, renewed his faith that he was right to stay away. But after he had received the engagement party invitation, he had purchased an elaborate wardrobe to place in front of it—it was too painful for him to be reminded of what he had so carelessly squandered.
With nothing but a towel slung low on his hips, Chuck walked out of his large en suite bathroom and into the entirely too large for a male, walk-in closet. He rifled through the bowtie section, searching for the perfect one to wear to the event later tonight. He was about to belatedly kick himself for not checking with Henry what color dress she planned on wearing—it would aggravate Blair if he did their unintentional matching thing byintentionally matching with Hen—when he realized she was fortunately on her way over.
He huffed, not understanding why she wanted to have brunch both today and tomorrow. Sunday was their standing brunch date that oftentimes included Nate, but last night Henry had insisted that they do it Saturday, as well. He'd make her pay for it by having her own up to what color dress she'd be wearing that night. And hopefully he would be able to sidestep her non-stop campaign pestering him to spend some time with Blair. She had been at it for over a week, ever since Blair had walked in on her carefully engineered scene.
Henry was getting quite cranky, and actually ordered him to stop blowing Blair off. He scoffed out loud before scowling darkly. She hadn't even spent any time alone with Blair, and already Henry was pushing him to offer his heart on a silver platter to her. She might as well ask Blair if she'd like to break his heart now or later. It was unfair! Henry was supposed to be on his side, she was his friend, not Blair's. He didn't know how to put into words that Blair had a way of making him feel that he was almost, but not quite good enough for her. During his entire relationship with Blair, Chuck had always felt that the scales had been unbalanced—that he loved her to distraction, while she floated away and came back to him when it suited her purposes. It wasn't that he had behaved perfectly, because he hadn't come even close to being ideal, but he had never been unwilling to give her a second or third chance. Blair always managed to make him feel that the slightest misstep would be grounds for a dismissal, banishment from her presence.
Her return had left him so conflicted. Chuck couldn't even begin to identify the endless number of emotions that were coursing through his veins. Presently, his life was a tedious balancing act and he was struggling not to topple over. He wouldn't deny that the sight of her, still made his heart skip a beat, or that holding her in his arms was indescribably sublime. But all of his reactions just reminded him of the desperation she always inspired from him. It just didn't seem right that it took so little to make him come undone.
He thought he heard the doorbell ring, but then shook his head. Henry had refused the keycard to the private elevator entrance when he had offered it to her and she had argued that it would be wrong for her to have a key before Blair did. Blair's house, was what she called it. Henry had compromised by accepting a key to the building's common elevator, when he had embarrassedly explained that he thought siblings had keys to each other's homes. More often than not, she opted not to use the key and knocked. Although on rare occasion, she loved nothing better than letting herself in, if only to creep up behind him and scare the shit out of him.
He smiled in spite of himself; he sometimes forgot she was six years older than him. It was her spirit that he was connected to—how she could have lived the painful life she had, yet somehow be an eternal optimist. Although he thought her to be a bit naïve in her belief that with love, you had to have 'blind faith', she had really aided him when he struggled—reminding him that Blair would always be worth it—she had to be. Sometimes Chuck really felt like she was a kindred spirit, it wasn't every day he met a fellow orphan whose uncle had exploited them and also had a true love that they had not gotten over, walk away from them. It was unsurprising that they had bonded seamlessly.
Simultaneously there was a loud knock on the door as the bell rung again. With a sigh, he walked out of his bedroom and into the hallway. If Henry was going to make him answer the door than he might as well squick her out by opening it, half-dressed. She was such a nine year-old sometimes, and far be it for him not to lower his standards and act like an eight year-old in return. With a smile, he swung the door open while he said, "I'm dressed, just the way you like me, Hen."
A wide-eyed Blair Waldorf was not what he was expecting.
He felt her eyes travel from his face and down his body and he couldn't help but feel a bit gratified. His upper body had filled out over the past couple of years, and there was a sense of smug satisfaction, as he saw the lust flare in her eyes as she unconsciously bit her lower lip. With a raised brow, he pretended to be unperturbed, "See something you like, Waldorf?"
She blushed before mumbling, "Nothing I haven't seen before, Bass."
"True."
Silence.
"Are you planning on leaning against the doorway all day?" Blair mocked with false bravado. "If you let me in, I promise not to touch anything while you get dressed."
"You can't just invite yourself over, unannounced, Blair. We're not in high school anymore," he returned stiffly.
Surprise crossed Blair's face, "But…we have plans, don't we?"
"Highly doubtful, since I don't recall agreeing to them."
She bit her lip again, as her forehead creased with a wrinkle and it took all his self-control not to just lean over and insure it was him biting her lip. He needed her to leave, and quickly. There was no one around to stop him from reacting to her, and he was practically naked already.
"But Henry called last night and invited me to have brunch with the two of you. She's the one who sent me your address," Blair explained, still confused. She scrolled through her phone to find the appropriate message, before handing the phone to him for confirmation. Her hand brushed his, and they both stepped back, the electrical currents humming through them both.
"Bitch," he muttered, barely audibly, not noticing Blair's eyes bug at his word choice. With an uncomfortable smile, he stepped back to make room for Blair to pass by him and into his home, their future home, he thought bitterly.
Blair walked into his lair. It was too surreal, actually having her there, that he couldn't stop his heart from speeding up, as he watched her look around. Not only did she seem genuinely curious, he could see the flicker of emotions—surprise and delight—as she walked from one room to the other. He noted her surprise at the fairly Spartan manner in which it was furnished. Blair finally stopped at the large living room with the cityscape as a backdrop. She looked ethereal standing so close to the windows, with the natural light flooding in and he couldn't quite catch his breath.
"This place is stunning." Blair smiled at him.
Not nearly stunning as you, his traitorous heart thought. He shrugged.
"It could use a woman's touch," she teased.
Chuck's heart froze, this could not be happening. It was too similar to the dreams he had since he moved in—dreams in which she had come back to him. Only in those dreams she came to him because she could not stay away—not because he was her last option or because she was coming out of a broken engagement. And he had always imagined following that playful response would undoubtedly be his marriage proposal. He was speechless.
"That gorgeous orchid is the only thing feminine about the place!" Blair exclaimed, pointing to the large green cymbidiums that had a handful of purple speckles. Henry had been unable to contain her mirth when she presented it to him, assuring him that it was a staple California-style Korean gift for housewarmings. She had informed him that had she gotten the typical purple phalaenopsis ones, she would have been unable to stop laughing ever. For the first month she came by every few days to properly water it, until she gave up and left instructions for his maid service. Every few weeks she would buy him a new one to replace the withering one.
"I think you should lea—" Chuck was interrupted by his phone beeping. Blair's phone soon followed.
Sorry, I have paperwork to file with HR about tonight's announcement. You should use brunch as an opportunity to find out why she's here. How are you going to know if you keep hiding from her? Be nice! I'll come by before we have to be at the Palace, ok? His text read.
The look of displeasure on Chuck's face prompted Blair to glance at her phone. I'm so sorry, but I got called into the office for some paperwork. Don't let his grumpiness get the best of you! See you tonight at the Palace? -H.
After she read her text, she looked back at Chuck. She really wished Chuck would put some clothes on. Despite the anger radiating from him, she was practically ready to pounce on him. He was so hot and cold with her, she just didn't know what to think. He looked so furious, that before she could ask him if he'd like her to leave, they were interrupted with a knock at the door. With a look of exasperation he told her to wait there while he saw to the latest intruder. Her eyes hungrily drank in the expanse of his back. There was just too much exposed skin, and it was a weakness of hers, she wanted to bite at it, scratch her nails down it, mark it, as hers hers hers!
A moment later she heard a cart being wheeled in to the center of the living area by a catering attendant. The teenaged-looking boy lifted up the cover to present a beautiful array of food—croissants and éclairs, fruit, yogurt, a bottle of Dom and a pitcher of orange juice. The boy held out a card to her and she reached for it. A moment later, Chuck came out of a room with his money clip. He had donned on a pair of slacks and had yet to button his un-tucked, crisp white shirt. Blair didn't know if this was an improvement on the towel, and quickly looked down at the card—it would be unseemly for her to drool. As Chuck handed the boy a twenty, he noticed her reading the card and gestured for her to read it out loud.
"Chuck and Blair—
I had already arranged for the brunch items to be delivered, and hope that you will still enjoy the spread. I would be most disappointed to hear that you didn't share this meal or the morning together. I know you two have a lot of catching up to do!
—H"
"That's nice of her," Blair said a bit uncertainly. Henry was conveniently both absent and encouraging them to continue on without her? Why did she get the feeling that Henry had never intended to show up for brunch? Was there an ulterior motive going on that Blair was unaware of?
"No, it's devious," he said sardonically, echoing her thoughts. "She's a little too helpful, sometimes. Even though you're my ex-girlfriend, she thinks our friendship from junior high school should trump any reservations I have about speaking to you. Hen's not always the most subtle person in the world."
"So, I'm not imagining things? You are avoiding me?" Blair asked. The pain in her voice was unmistakable.
Chuck remained quiet as he merely leaned against the entryway staring at the floor.
"Why?" she whispered.
"Don't pretend you don't know," he practically growled at her.
"Chuck, you have to tell me. What did I do?" Blair begged.
The flash of emotions flickered too quickly on his face for her to decipher. She watched uncomfortably as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"I've been completely inhospitable. Please, have a seat, Blair." Chuck gestured politely to the couch.
She didn't know how to take his sudden change in mood, as she gingerly sat down, watching him carefully place all her favorite breakfast items onto a plate—a croissant, a generous dollop of yogurt and fresh berries. He handed the plate to her with a cloth napkin, and she accepted it graciously. He moved to pop open the bottle of Dom, topping the final third of the champagne flutes with orange juice, before presenting her with a glass.
"Cheers," Chuck toasted softly. "To renewing old friendships."
Blair searched his eyes and could only see sincerity, so she clinked her glass against his and took a sip. It was obvious that he was going to ignore his outburst from just moments ago, and she was going to let him. He had already turned to pile two éclairs on his plate, before sitting down at the other end of the couch.
He cleared his throat and asked, "So…uhm, tell me about Yale? Was it everything you had hoped for?"
It was an olive branch, and she was going to grasp it. "Actually, it wasn't. But then again, it was my third school in less than two years. The campus was beautiful, but it reminded me of Nate, actually."
She giggled. The confusion in Chuck's eyes was clear. He asked, "Nate?"
"Well, more like senior year, Nate. When he and I had our failed attempt to rekindle our dead romance?" She continued lightly. "It was perfect on paper and it seemed right and familiar. But like with Nate, I had realized that I had outgrown that childish fantasy. It wasn't enough anymore, just to be there. No one was more surprised than me."
"Well, were the quality of your minions at least better?" he joked.
Blair shook her head, flushing a bit. "Once I got there, I had that sense of déjà vu. You remember my seriously misguided belief that I should rule NYU? Become queen of the dorms?"
"Oh, I remember," Chuck teased.
"I can't believe you let me think that was even remotely a good idea!" She whined. "I mean, even if I had become queen, you saw what would have amounted as my people. You were too busy playing the perfect boyfriend that you wouldn't let me see reason. It's humiliating to even remember it."
Chuck eyes danced in amusement as he kept his mouth sealed shut.
With a sigh, Blair continued, "Needless to say, there were, of course, minions available to me. But I declined ruling them. I think I just found myself not caring anymore. I really devoted myself to my studies."
"Do you regret going there?"
She frowned slightly at the hint of worry she heard underlying his voice. She shrugged, "No. I'm glad that I graduated from Yale, it felt like something that needed to be checked off of the Blair Waldorf list. I'm sorry if I make it sound dreadful—it wasn't. But it wasn't as amazing as I imagined it would be either. It made me realize that I had to stop planning out every aspect of my life."
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," Chuck answered, sounding relieved.
"Me, too."
Silence stretched awkwardly between them. Blair really wanted to ask him why he was so concerned about Yale, but she thought better of it. Besides, she didn't want to talk about herself, she wanted to know everything that had happened to him since she walked away.
"So how's Eleanor?" "Tell me about Bass Industries!" They spoke simultaneously.
They smiled—it was their first genuine exchange since her engagement party. "Eleanor is being Eleanor."
"BI is challenging," he offered. "How are your three fathers?"
"Daddy and Roman are fine. Happy as can be in Lyon."
Chuck grinned. "And Cyrus?"
"Cyrus says hello."
"Does he?"
"He saw you at the engagement party," Blair said quietly. "Cyrus always was your biggest fan."
"Do you wish you stayed in Paris? Near your family?" Chuck asked morosely.
"Everything I want or need is here," she said softly.
His head snapped up as he looked at her, her hands fidgeting with the croissant that lay untouched on her plate. Was she giving him a subtle hint that she was here for him?
"Why that song, Chuck?" she asked suddenly. Her eyes luminous as she stared back at him.
"It seemed the song that best fit what the moment represented," he said honestly. He read the desperate curiosity in her eyes. "I had to be certain that you were really closing the door…is it closed?"
Blair shook her head.
Taking the plate out of her lap, he set it onto the coffee table and slid closer to her. His right hand reached out to cup her face as his thumb lightly stroked her cheekbone. She turned her face into his hand, as she pressed a kiss into his palm. That was the only invitation, he needed. He tilted her face up towards him and leaned in and touched his lips to hers in reverence. The gesture was chaste, but it was the most alive he had felt since she had walked away from him. It was Blair who pressed her lips harder against his as she slid her hands through his hair, and moved so she was sitting in his lap. He poured every ounce of love he had for her into the kiss, as his tongue danced with hers and she was finally in his arms again.
He purred in satisfaction as she ran her hands over his chest and started scraping her fingers down his back—it was one of his most favorite sensations in the world. He placed butterfly kisses along her jawline, before he trailed his mouth down her neck, nipping and biting softly. She tasted even better than he remembered, and he needed to pay homage to every last inch of her. Hoarsely he whispered, "You are so beautiful."
Her smile was radiant and a devious twinkle flashed in her eyes, as she pushed his shirt off of him and dragged his mouth back to hers. This time it was her tongue plundering his as he reveled in simply having her in his arms. His hands lazily roamed every inch of her body. He was going to savor this homecoming—he had missed her too much to rush through this sloppily.
"I've missed this," he murmured into her ears as his tongue dipped into her ear.
She moaned softly, as she pressed her body against his as closely as possible. She felt his unhurried pace, but was desperate to feel him inside her. One hand stroked his jutting hipbone—it had always been one of her favorite parts, as the other speared through his hair. There were shivers running up and down her spine, she hadn't felt this aroused in years, she was panting and ready to explode from this mild kissing. She turned her head to offer him her neck, again, when she saw the brunch cart in the middle of the room. Henry.
"Chuck, wait—" she said breathlessly.
He ignored her as he was focused on igniting every nerve in her body, his mouth sucking at her neck in a manner that never failed to bring moisture between her legs.
"What about Henry?" She managed to squeak out.
Instantly he stilled. In a voice full of remorse, he said, "Blair, I need to explain about Henry."
"Explain? What's there to explain?" Blair asked. Suddenly, she didn't want to hear his explanation. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right. There was no way he should be able to be this loving towards her when he was involved with someone else. She pushed him hard and jumped off of him. "What was I thinking?"
"Blair!" Chuck called out. He reached out to still her a moment too late.
She snatched up her purse, as she glared at him. "You have a girlfriend, Chuck!"
"Henry is not my girlfriend! You have to let me explain," he begged.
"Oh, that's right, she's just your favorite business associate, isn't she?" She growled back. "So what, you just fuck her and work with her and let her ingratiate herself in your life? Sounds like a girlfriend to me!"
"I don't love her like that—"
"You love her?" Blair whispered quietly.
Chuck looked stunned and speechless, and she took this as confirmation that whatever was between him and Henry was deeper than she thought. "Coming here was a mistake."
She ran as quickly as possible through his penthouse and out the door. She was pressing for the elevator when she heard him yell her name again. Hurry, hurry, she thought as the elevator doors slid open. Just as the doors were sliding closed, she saw him lunge towards the elevator with her name on his lips.
Blair sighed in relief as she willed herself not to cry.
"Dammit!" Chuck yelled, slamming his hand on the elevator door. And before he could even finish his thought, he was running back into the apartment to the private elevator, praying that he would catch her before she got away.
His heart was beating thunderously, clenching tightly at the thought that she would slip through his fingers again. He ran out of the elevator and around the corner, barefoot and shirtless, just as she was getting into a cab. "Blair!"
He saw the anger and hurt in her eyes flash before she slammed the cab door. Chuck ran faster, but the cab had already pulled away from the curb. "FUCK!"
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To avoid seeming like a stalker, Chuck limited himself to twenty-six phone calls and did not allow himself to show up unannounced at her home. He was seething now, as he was readying himself to make the announcement planned for the event. Not only had Blair refused to answer a single one of his phone calls, she had deftly refused to speak to him since arriving. She had been flanked with Serena and Eric by her side, and when he politely requested a private audience with her, she had hissed at him to leave her alone.
He had only wanted to explain and apologize for deceiving her. He had been scared, and now he knew that she was scared, too. If she would just listen to him for a moment, this would all work itself out. But then he had chanced on overhearing Blair bemoan, "I went from a Prince to him, what was I thinking, Serena? Chuck is always going to be a mistake that I can't help banging myself repeatedly over the head with."
Chuck had stepped back stunned. To hear his worst fears articulated in her words, unprovoked, was as painful as the moment he had received the engagement party invitation. He had stumbled off to a corner to piece himself together in some attempt at being presentable. He still had a company party to host.
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"Ladies and gentleman, if I could please have your attention," Chuck paused easily with a smile, overlooking the modest, yet not small crowd of people who had been hand-selected to attend this evening's party. "While tonight is in honor of landing the Gerson account, it's also time for a long overdue announcement."
Chuck glanced around the room that comprised mostly of upper management and board members of Bass Industries, other colleagues, as well as Nate, Serena, Eric and Blair. He tried not to betray his irritation that Blair had the audacity to still be there. Well, if she felt that he was such a mistake, he would make certain that she knew he felt the same way.
"If Miss Henrietta Park would kindly join me," he flashed a grin towards her as the rest of the room turned their attention to her. Henry smiled widely as she walked up to him and joined him on the platform. "As most of you know, Miss Park is undoubtedly the most important woman—no, person, in my life. And despite the numerous hours she is already forced to spend in my tedious company, she has agreed to make her life even more complicated. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for me, she now has committed even more of her hours in my presence. May I introduce to you, the future …"
He paused, knowing exactly the effect he was making in having the guests assume this announcement was more personal in nature. The entire room was waiting on pins and needles, and although most people didn't know it, he felt the anger vibrating off of Henry. He had certainly not missed the daggers in her eyes that only he could see. He fought the tinge of guilt he felt when his eyes met Blair's, but he reminded himself of the words he had just heard her say. Her face was frozen as if she was watching a train wreck, yet could not look away. If he were not mistaken there were tears welling in her eyes as she was clutching her glass of champagne so tightly, he thought it would shatter in her hand.
"…Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions. Please raise your glass," he finished. Taking Henry's hand, he lifted it and pressed a kiss on it, before she practically yanked it back. He stepped aside to allow Henry to take a bow and a warm round of applause flooded the room. His eyes could not leave Blair's, as he felt the relief rolling off of her in waves. Blair flashed him a strained smile as she gulped down the remnants of the champagne in her glass and quickly escaped towards the terrace. It took every morsel of his control to not run after her and beg her to let him explain himself. He hadn't expected that level of devastation after her words he had overheard and her response earlier that day. Chuck had just wanted Blair to know that Henry wasn't going anywhere, that she had usurped her prior standing—even if it weren't true. Instead, he trained his attention back to Henry's thank you speech, trying to ignore that prickle of conscience telling him that maybe he was wrong.
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She had almost started hyperventilating inside. He had looked directly at her before not breaking her heart. Blair had been terrified that the words to follow were going to be Mrs. Bass, and she did not doubt that a large part of her would have died. It would have been fate, laughing at her for pushing him over the edge to propose to Henry, after what had happened between them today. It was all too much for her, she hadn't felt that alive in almost five years, and she hadn't even given him the opportunity to explain what it was that he wanted to say. Instead she did what she always did with him—push him away when she wasn't comfortable with her own behavior. But she was a masochist, through and through, because even after what happened, she couldn't stop herself from attending this gala.
Henry had made the situation even stranger by seeking her out. With barely concealed irritation, but not a hint of maliciousness, she had said, "If you are half the woman Chuck claims you are, you should give him a chance to explain."
She had walked away after that, and Blair just stood there speechless watching as Henry went to Chuck's side and they made their rounds with colleagues together. At first Blair wondered if Henry was a mercenary or an idiot, but as she observed the pair that evening, there was not a hint of discomfort. If anything, they seemed even closer, but not out of guilt or obligation.
That was when Blair realized what a fool she had been! How had it never occurred to her that he may have been the one who had moved on all this time? While she had been busy playing Stepford Wife-in-training, he actually might have gotten over her, over them, and found someone else.
Blair replayed their conversation from almost five years ago—she had never once asked him to wait. She had basically told him that whatever it was between them was now over. She hadn't given him even a glimmer of hope. Not even when she had mailed him his yearly birthday gift—she had only ever signed the note, Just because we can't be together, doesn't mean we aren't friends…-B. Chuck had never responded, to her chagrin, but she couldn't blame him. If he had sent her packages with a similar note, she didn't know if she'd have been able to stop herself. Any contact from him during all these years would have been all it took for her to rush back to him.
He had truly taken her words to heart from that evening, leaving her to figure out what she wanted. That night he had been the one to plea, if two people are meant to be together, eventually they'll find their way back. And tonight, she thought he had been about two seconds away from breaking her completely. Every bone in her body had wanted to lunge at Henry and scratch her eyes out so badly, when Chuck had teased the audience with May I introduce to you, the future.., that it had startled her. But the truth of the matter was, he loved someone who was actually worthy of it, and that might be something she had absolutely no say in. She took in a big breath of air and thought about her engagement party. Chuck had come and not done one single thing wrong, he had not meddled, instead he had been sweetly nostalgic.
Perhaps it was time for her to take a page out of his book—she'd have to befriend the enemy. If Henry really did make him happy, who was she to stand in the way?
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tbc
A/N: I know it's been awhile since I've given you a clear Chuck or Blair POV, so I thought now would work, plus, I'm a sucker for a good epiphany! Chuck and Blair are their own worst enemies, and yet it doesn't diminish my love for them, not one drop.
For one of my favorite people in the world, Noirreigne, who happens to also be my beta.
For Lisa Levine, who without your insight and feedback and commentary, knows just how differently this chapter would have gone. I hope, while it may not be exactly what you wanted to read, be a vast improvement to the previous draft.
To the readers and reviewers, I hope you don't hate me…I swear, there is a purpose to this madness! AND, I hope you are still enjoying this story, because I appreciate those of you who are reading!
