.:~ Chapter 7 – With Hardship is Ease ~:.
Rinoa paced the bedroom, shoving handfuls of clothes into drawers and slamming them shut. Toiletries were chucked near the entrance to the en-suite rather carelessly and cosmetics were sprawled across the dressing table. This method of unpacking and sorting was not the way one of Galbadian aristocracy was taught, but there was very little Rinoa could do to suppress her fury.
'Give him a chance', 'Do your best', 'Put in your all – it doesn't have to be the end'. Conversation after conversation with practically everyone giving their two gils. But did anyone share the same opinions with Squall? If they had, he sure wasn't taking heed.
Rinoa had a good mind and whack him over the head with the hairdryer she was presently searching temporary accommodation for, her feelings from three years prior resurfacing, but that was hardly going to help matters. Besides, who knew how much Squall had changed since; she didn't fear him hitting her back, or throwing a shoe to her head, she feared he'd get off the sofa and walk out on her forever.
That feeling watered down her frustration and she was left numbly swaying in her room. Would their entire stay be this awkward and discomforting? Would she and Squall have to butt heads and eventually come to terms with the reality of their relationship – a dead-end in a maze where there was no turning back – well, not unless you went back time, but that was still too soon for humour.
The phone rang downstairs. Rinoa could hear Squall pick up the receiver. He muffled something before there was a long pause. She placed the hairdryer on the bed when she heard hurried footsteps.
Within a few seconds, Squall was at the threshold of the bedroom door. He quickly glanced around the room and Rinoa's new unpacking skills, his face contorting to one of confusion. But the commander shook away his thoughts and spoken into the receiver.
"Okay, Kristin, you're on loudspeaker.'
"Aha! Okay, now, we may begin. Just to double check, Rinoa is there?" a female voice asked through the receiver.
"Yes," Squall grunted.
There was another pause as the two looked at each other questioningly. Squall nodded to Rinoa who quickly cleared her throat.
"Hi."
"Oh, hello! I'm Kris – your counsellor. I've just told your husband that I can't make it today, but I've already made arrangements for your first assignment."
Rinoa glanced at Squall. The word husband hadn't been used in their presence in so long; it was almost painful to hear.
"So, where are you both exactly?" Kristin asked.
"In one of the bedrooms. I'm not sure if each has an en-suite, but the one we're in does," Rinoa clarified.
"Nope, they don't all have en-suites. Rinoa, you're in the master bedroom. There are two bedrooms and a bathroom. You'll notice the room you're in has its bed already made. The housekeepers were there earlier today, however, due to shortage of time they couldn't make the other. So, for your first challenge, you'll have to work together to make the second bed."
"That's our challenge?" Squall asked brazenly. He couldn't believe the sheer silliness of it. Where did Eric get this counsellor? She couldn't make it to their first meeting, and then to top it off, she was assigning bed-making as a method to fix their marriage? It was beyond ridiculous, and Squall, quite frankly, was starting to rethink his commitment to the program.
"Yes, but, you must to do it together. Trust me; you'll need each other's help."
There was a click on the other end of the phone. Squall kissed his teeth and sat on the bed beside Rinoa's belongings.
"For God's sake . . ." he mumbled under his breath.
Rinoa stood awkwardly at first, suddenly realising this was the first time in many years she and Squall were alone in a bedroom. Why was it her mind trailed to these thoughts when a minute ago she was mentally hammering him over the head? She doubted Squall even thought anything in the faintest way romantic about her. Her feelings felt rather fickle; she claimed he drove her away, but here she was overjoyed that he was at least making the effort.
Deep down, Rinoa knew she wanted this. She wanted reconciliation and she wanted to explain why she had left. If he didn't understand, she'd deal with it – of course it would hurt – but she'd hopefully learn to cope. And if he did understand, then they could work on a way to mend their broken marriage. She hoped for the latter.
Rinoa's eyes drifted to her open luggage where her A5-sized notepad stuck out. She quickly removed it from her bag, along with other items, and began placing them around the room.
"Erm, so you want to get started on the other room? It'll be sunset in a couple hours and you'll need somewhere to sleep . . ." she trailed off as she wedged the notepad into her purse without Squall noticing.
Squall didn't say anything. He got off the bed morosely and dragged his feet to the other room. Rinoa chucked her purse beside the pine bedside draw and took a deep breath.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"
Worried, the sorceress made her way to the threshold of the second room where Squall stood with his fists balled tightly beside him. She scanned the room and immediately noticed what Squall was crying over. In the middle of the room, where the bed should have been, lay planks of wood and several brackets and bolts.
Rinoa unsuccessfully muffled a giggle. "Well, Kristin did say the bed was unmade."
Squall glared at her from the corner of his eye. He scratched his head and sighed. "C'mon."
Rinoa followed him further into the room and stood awaiting his orders. Squall, on the other hand, was busy lifting every plank and bracket, and opening every draw he could find.
"What are you searching for?"
"The instructions."
"Oh." Rinoa looked around the room but couldn't see any papers lying around. "There doesn't seem to be any."
"I found it." Squall waved a piece of paper at her. He unfolded it and scanned the contents, his forehead creasing as he narrowed his eyes. "Seriously, is this a joke? It's all in some different language."
"Let me look," Rinoa held her hand out and Squall passed the paper. The commander ran his hand over his face, squeezing the bridge of his nose. Rinoa looked at the wording but it was unfamiliar to her eyes. "I don't know what language this is."
"I should just sleep on the sofa." His comment wasn't an invitation to a conversation; it was Squall's way of thinking out loud. Nevertheless, Rinoa felt obliged to respond.
"For two months? You'll damage your back. C'mon, let's at least try to figure this out." Rinoa bent down to a sitting position. From the corner of her eye, she looked at Squall, waiting for him to show some sign of cooperation.
The commander was staring at the mini construction site, both hands balled together and pressed to his lips. He hadn't seemed to make any moves.
"S-Squall?" Rinoa called out to him but received not even a murmur of recognition. "Okay," she muttered and reached over to pick up one of the wooden planks.
"Hold on – wait!" Squall held out a hand and Rinoa immediately froze. After more seconds of silence, Squall sat down and began clipping the brackets to the wooden planks.
Rinoa carefully observed the method he used and began doing the same. Soon the planks had all been bracketed and there remained the four wooden bedposts.
"You see the picture on the instruction manual?" Squall pointed for Rinoa's observation. "That's what the frame needs to look like. So these brackets need to connect to these pillars, and then connect to the posts. There should be a bag of bolts and hex key somewhere." Squall instructed Rinoa, who jumped to rummage through their mess. Once she had found the bag, she brought it to Squall.
"Here, you hold the bracket tightly and I'll screw." Rinoa nodded, hiding a smirk, certain that Squall would not share the humour.
Who knew seeing him after a year would make her feel seventeen again. Back then, things were so simple; they were honest with each other and confided in nearly everything – sometimes a bit too much, and sometimes things which should have remained private, at least that's what Squall told her any time she'd feel the need to converse about her monthly cycles.
But she wasn't seventeen. Long gone were the days of giggling over euphemistic puns and dirty magazine choices. Now, she sat meters away from her estranged husband, making awkward attempts to salvage what was left of their marriage. There was no doubt Squall was merely there to get things over and done with.
Rinoa couldn't help but let a sigh escape. Could she really blame him? Maybe Quistis was right; Squall couldn't be held accountable for something he had no knowledge about. But that begged her prior rebuttal; where was he? Why hadn't he taken an interest in her well-being? Why was it always her doing the legwork to maintain their relationship? He had become complacent; a well-paid job, a wife, and friends that lived close by. With such little responsibilities at home, he could, and willingly did, dedicate majority of his time to Garden.
Yet, Rinoa's mind was currently at a standoff; it was mentally straining. She blamed him for her departure from Balamb, and that was further fuelled by his lack of attempt to get her to come back. He didn't care about her at all. But, neither did her actions cite care for him. By the end of her tether, she couldn't decide whether she loved or hated him, whether she wanted to be right next to him or as far away as possible, or whether she was mad at him or mad at herself. Heck, at times, she wasn't sure if she wanted to hug him or strangle him.
The nearly complete bed frame mimicked her love-life: imperfect and in need of serious mending. With a little hard work and motivation, maybe it could work. Although, getting Squall to put in the effort would be a challenge. And right now, he was more concentrated on finishing the task than making any form of conversation with her.
Squall stood with a thin smile on his face. It hadn't taken long once he figured out the construction from the picture. Now, all he needed to do was place the mattress on top of the planks and it would just about be ready.
He spun around the room but couldn't see the mattress anywhere.
"What are you looking for now?" Rinoa asked, still seated on the floor.
"The mattress," Squall's mumbled.
Rinoa arched her head behind her to look around. The room was much smaller than the one she had picked for herself; a boxed room with a chest of draws, a wardrobe, and a rectangular shaped window. A mattress would have taken up half the space.
"Maybe they left it downstairs."
Squall grunted and turned for the door. Rinoa quickly followed him, feeling a slight sense of guilt for taking the made-up room, not that she had done it intentionally. This "vacation" was seemingly turning out to be a pain for Squall, and she assumed it wouldn't take much for him to grab his belongings and book the next flight back to Balamb. She couldn't let that happen.
The bottom half of the house wasn't any bigger than the top. The through lounge, kitchen, water closet and garden showed no sign of bedding anywhere. The garage was pretty much near empty except for a can of petrol and a hose. There was no mattress.
Squall slumped on the kitchen table. A waste of an hour making a bed that proved useless in the end, it looked like he would be sleeping on the sofa after all.
He watched as Rinoa filled a tumbler of water and took several sips. He could make out the motions of her trachea and steady breathing. Her left hand gripped the kitchen sink as she stood over it.
A year hadn't really changed much. She didn't look any different, other than the length of her hair being almost down to her tailbone, and her manners seemed to remain the same. He knew she struggled to make conversation upstairs, just like he struggled not to demand her reasons for leaving. He would leave that up for her to disclose, he wasn't one to beg for answers.
He was hurt, and even more so that she had left him but, expected to walk back into his life as if the past year hadn't happened. She confused him. Why on earth was she making an effort for a relationship she had abandoned? What had changed over the course of their separation? Did she not like it in Timber? Was money an issue? Was it not comfortable living alone? And what happened to the blond she was living with? Had Rinoa had her fun and realised maybe, in the long-term, it was safer being with boring, old Squall.
Countless questions filled his mind, questions that would likely remain unanswered. It was the story of his life; people came and went, no one stuck around. Ellone didn't, so he didn't know why he even counted on Rinoa. The worst thing about this situation, however, was that Rinoa knew his fear of commitment, and she played with it. She took a vow yet, broke it.
"Um, looks like we don't have any food either." Rinoa pointed to an empty fridge.
Squall shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not sure where the nearest store is, and by the time I find it on foot, I doubt it'll be open. We're better off ordering something for tonight."
Rinoa nodded and picked up the cordless receiver. She handed it to Squall who called the operator.
"Hi, could you put me through to the nearest pizza delivery. We've just moved in so I'm not sure what our postcode is." After a couple minutes, Squall ordered the food and the two sat in the kitchen silently. Rinoa sat on a stool near the sink and Squall sat with his head in his hands, feeling as though a migraine was inevitable.
The silence was eerily long with only the ticking of the kitchen clock to accompany their thoughts. No other situation in their lives could describe awkward as precisely as the one they were in currently. It was beyond uncomfortable, palpable, and downright frustrating. Who on earth would believe these two were married a little over a year ago.
The sound of the doorbell was relief to their ears as both jumped to answer it, eager and hungry for company, anything to distil the tense atmosphere. Squall had managed to get to the door before Rinoa, who somehow managed to wind her legs around the stool and had nearly fallen over.
Only Squall's hope of ease was short-lived; he wasn't sociable naturally, and the delivery man seemed to have no interest in anything other than picking up his payment (and tip).
As if it couldn't get any more awkward, now Rinoa felt obliged to sit opposite her estranged husband and eat. She had a serial of thoughts about whether she should excuse herself and take her food to the lounge, upstairs, even to the garden and give him some space. She felt she owed him that, funnily enough, without knowing why she was feeling apologetic. Yes, she wanted this "vacation" to restore their marriage, but Squall had to give the same level of determine. He had to prove to her that he wanted to be in this marriage.
With a shake of her head, Rinoa sat down opposite the chair Squall had been sitting on earlier. Squall slid a plate towards her and she thanked him quietly. She watched as Squall placed half the pizza on his plate and picked up a tumbler of water.
"I'm gonna eat in the other room," he muttered, and then left without waiting for a response.
Rinoa's heart sunk. While she was willing to eat elsewhere so he could have some space, she was also very keen on being in his presence. He was like a drug she couldn't resist. She hadn't expected him to leave; she wanted him to crave her company the way she craved his.
"It's gonna take time," Rinoa whispered to herself.
Remaining seated in the kitchen, she listened to the sound of the television set while finishing her dinner alone.
Rinoa hesitated by the lounge door, mentally cheering herself to walk in and speak to Squall. It wasn't a big deal, even if didn't respond, it was her way of making sure she was giving her two hundred and fifty-five percent in this reconciliation. Besides, this first day wasn't so fair on Squall; the least she felt obliged to do was bring down some bedding for him. It's not like she could offer him anything else – like joining her in the master bedroom. Or, could she?
The laughter from the TV set broke her concentration. Rinoa shook her thoughts away and, as gracefully as she could, stepped into the lounge.
Squall lay on his side on the long sofa, his head resting on the armrest.
"Squall," Rinoa called to him.
He turned to face her, his forehead creased and his eyes droopy. He turned the television off and chucked the remote control onto the coffee table.
"I-I brought you some pillows and a blanket." Rinoa handed the bedding to Squall who seemed to mutter some form of appreciation. She watched as he fluffed the pillows and wrapped himself around the blanket. Then he lay lifeless.
As Rinoa walked back to the door, she heard him mutter.
"Yes?" she replied, trying not to take to heart his blatant refusal to address her by name.
"You can turn off the light."
The sorceress took that as her cue to leave, slightly disappointed that their first night together wasn't very eventful. Even their first night in Timber together, when they had stayed with the Chief of Forest Fox, was more action-filled; arguing and spouting mean words to each other. Okay, it was actually she that called him a "meany", and he had apologised once he realised she had taken offense towards his lack of respect towards Seifer's life.
However, that memory revealed a lot more about their previous differing viewpoints. Rinoa was always optimistic, going beyond the limits to ensure her decisions had a positive outcome. Her actions, nearly all the time, were based on emotional attachment.
Squall, on the other hand, would always act reasonably and practically, almost never emotionally. Even his attitude to Seifer's presumed death that night was apathetic and bereft of any emotion, considering he spent his entire childhood with the misfit. Of course, that had somewhat changed the longer they were in each other's company; Squall occasionally did act out of emotions, and she held back to reconsider her actions.
The situation at present was like taking a step back before their progression. Rinoa was eager and felt emotionally compelled to ensure his stay was comfortable and beneficial in order to sustain their marriage. But, Squall wasn't contributing any more to ensure her time in Esthar was productive. He had objectives and tasks, and as long as he completed and met them, the resulting factor seemed to mean nothing to him. At least, that's what Rinoa thought.
His words now rang in her ears: As long as you don't get your hopes up, you can take anything . . . You feel less pain.
Maybe that was true. Maybe, if Rinoa acted without hoping for a personal gain, if he decided by the end of their stay that their relationship was beyond reconciliation, it wouldn't hurt as much. She would be able to return to Timber with a healthy mindset, and accept that her life with Squall was just not meant to be.
Nevertheless, she couldn't help but feel that Squall's words were more of a defence mechanism. Maybe, just maybe, if once in a while Squall did get his hopes up, the results of his actions would prove to be more fruitful.
Author Notes: So, let's just forget that this story hasn't be updated in two and half years, and just nod our heads at the promise of more updates (yeah, sure!).
Ugh, I feel like I'm a broken record, but I honestly am sorry for anyone who is still reading my stories (is anyone actually still reading?) and hoping for an update. It seems I suck at keeping promises, or evening meeting my own deadlines. I rarely use my laptop now, and due to that, I rarely seem to be bothered to write. I've had this chapter sitting incomplete for months, but I've not had the motivation to finish it (partly because I'm not even sure if anyone reads this, partly because my husband still hasn't bought me a desk and that puts me off writing).
Don't be alarmed, even if updates are every 2.5 years, I will (probably) get this story completed. I'm hoping it can be like my earlier AUs and finish around the 14th chapter mark. I wish I could write more, but it seems that life always has something or other getting in the way of writing.
Thanks to anyone who is still reading and reviewing. This one goes out to you! ;)
P.s. I am currently looking for a beta-reader for this story as my previous one is no longer in action. If you feel up for the challenge, have good knowledge of English grammar, and have extensive knowledge of the game, please let me know via email (address in bio) or Private Message.
