Title: The Other Man

Author: Shelby

Summary: "I know your husband hates me. I can see it in his eyes. Don't try to deny it, Blair," Chuck spoke with a wronged pride. He was the other man, but jealous and possessive to the core. Chuck/Blair

A/N: Just be ready.

--

"Mathew?" Blair gasped. She froze immediately, and stood a mere foot away from him. In an uncomfortable fashion, she crossed her arms over her swollen stomach. Her voice grew dry and she felt lightheaded. There was a feeling, whether she wanted to address it or not, that wished she had stayed back at the loft or at least away from this room.

"Good, you're already packed," Mathew nodded and stood up. He straightened the lapels of his jacket and then came and took her suitcase from her. His mood was unpleasant, but contained. He showed little emotion.

"Wh-what?" she questioned. Her brow was furrowed in confusion. She reached her hands out to take back her suitcase, but he seemed to refuse to give it back to her. Instead, he walked to the door and placed his hand on the knob. He turned back to face her.

"We're going home," he stated sternly. The tone of voice he had made it clear that he was in no mood for further discussion. It was not a question, but an order, a command.

"But, I-I'm not ready to go home… yet," Blair stuttered. She took a step back and the back of her legs hit the foot of the bed. There was some kind of pull with this place. She wanted to stay there. Okay, so may be the place had nothing to do with it, but… Chuck. Crap, what was he going to…

"I'm not in the mood to play these games with you, Blair. Don't think for a second I'm not well aware of what has been going on these past few days. Your affair is over and you are coming back home, with me," Mathew asserted. He set down the suitcase by the door and walked towards her when she still just stood there.

"You-you know?" she gulped. Her eyes narrowed. She didn't think he did no matter how naive that sounded. Maybe she thought he didn't care enough to figure it out.

"I knew. We'll use past tense now since like I said, it's over. I will hear no more of it and you are never to see Charles Bass again. Are we clear?" He got so close to her that they were nose to nose. The tension in the air was horrible. His eyes seemed to look down on her.

She felt small and humiliated. She was so used to listening to him, doing what he told her in order to make him happy. Only, when he said she'd never see Chuck again… it hurt her heart. She didn't think that was something she could do. It just wasn't possible.

"Mathew, I-I can't do that. He-he… the baby might be his and… I-I just can't leave him here like that. I don't know if I can leave him at all," Blair stuttered. She wanted to look away from him, but his livid eyes kept her in an unbreakable stare-off.

"Blair, are you listening to yourself talk right now? You don't leave the person you're having an affair with. If anything, you'd leave your husband, but we both know you're not leaving me. After all that I have done for you, everything I have given you. You will not walk out on me or this marriage," Mathew seethed. He grabbed hold of her arm and yanked her towards the door.

"No!" she screamed and pulled back. He stopped abruptly. She grabbed her arm away from him and stepped back again. She shook her head.

"I-I need more time to think," Blair pleaded. She didn't know what else to say to him. All she knew was that she should stay and at least explain what was going on to Chuck… whatever that was.

"Why, because of him?" Mathew snarled. His upper lip twitched and he stepped so close to her that she felt like she no longer had any breathing room.

"Yes," she admitted and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt so pressured and uncomfortable. All she wanted was to disappear, vanish into thin air and end up somewhere else. Where, she didn't know.

"Look at me," he demanded. When she did not comply he screamed.

"Look at me, right now!"

Her eyes snapped open and she whimpered. Tears streaked down her face as she stayed deadly still. His hand reached up and touched her cheek. He pressed his forehead against hers. Suddenly, he acted so much calmer.

"You are not thinking straight, Blair. He has gotten into your head, you know what don't you? I'm the one who takes care of you baby. Don't you remember what happened last time? Who was there to pick up the pieces? Me. You belong with me. We both know who Chuck Bass really is. Do you honestly think he wants this?" Mathew motioned down her arm to the rest of her body.

"He said he did," Blair quivered. Her body was shaking as her hands clutched the fabric of his suit. She felt like if she didn't hold onto something, she'd fall to the ground.

"Then where is he right now, Blair? Why are you back here all alone?" he pressed.

She stared at him for a few minutes, her emotions on whack. Then she broke down and started to cry hysterically. Mathew took up on the opportunity and opened the door. He picked up her suitcase and led her out. She shook her head no, but she didn't feel in charge anymore.

"We're going home," he said again.

The next thing she knew, she was inside a limo. Her eyes blinked and everything felt hazy. The baby was kicking fiercely, so much that she had to hold her stomach.

--

Chuck walked out of his dinner meeting. The deal was complete and he now owned the hotel. But he had to fix the problem he had with Blair. She was building her wall back up; he saw it happen right before his eyes. The deal was so important or else he wouldn't have bothered with it. But now it was all about her. With a sigh, he walked to the front desk with something in mind.

"Mr. Bass," the hotel desk manager flashed a bright smile. He was already well aware of what had gone down in the meeting.

"Good evening, could you please call to my room. I need to speak with my… the woman I'm staying with," Chuck told him. His tone was very business-like and determined.

"Of course," the man nodded. He picked up the phone and Chuck waited anxiously. He started to tap his foot when nothing happened. Finally, he put down the phone and flashed a nervous look.

"I'm very sorry, sir, but no one is picking up," the man told him.

Chuck felt his stomach twist into knots. Something was right and he knew it. He furrowed his brow and leaned forward to speak in hushed tones.

"Tell me right now if Blair Prescott checked-out," he commanded.

"Why, Mr. Bass, her husband checked her out just minutes ago. They are leaving right now in a limo," the man stuttered nervously.

"Fuck," Chuck cursed and stormed away from the desk. He went towards the doors. He had to stop her. Why was she doing this to him? The doors flew open and he saw a limo slowly start to pull away. He didn't care that he looked like a madman as he ran towards it.

"Blair, baby, get out of the car!" he screamed and banged on the windows. The limo stopped for just a brief moment and the window rolled down slightly. He looked inside and came face to face with him, her husband. But then he saw her. She was on the other side of the limo crying and looking at him.

"Blair, don't do this. Don't leave with him," Chuck pleaded.

"This is the last time you will see my wife, Chuck. Isn't that right, dear?" Mathew spoke up. Instantly, Chuck's eyes flickered to him.

"Fuck you, you don't tell her what to do!" Chuck shouted. He smacked his hand hard against the window and then pulled at the door. It was locked, but he was so angry he thought he may just pull it off.

"Driver, let's go," Mathew sighed. He then put up the window.

"No! No, Blair!" Chuck freaked out. He kicked at the car and ran, but it was obviously faster than him. All he saw was red as in a blur he went back to the loft. He remembered screaming, kicking, crying, throwing, and punching at things.

When he was all out of energy, he looked around. All he had left was an empty and a trashed room. Then he pushed himself up and went into the bathroom. He threw open the medicine cabinet and searched for pills, any kind of pills. He wasn't in his right mind. He just wanted to sleep.

"Fuck this," he cursed. His eyes were blurred with tears. He couldn't read the label, but he got the lid open. He was about to knock it down his throat when he caught a look of himself in the mirror. He stopped abruptly.

"Chuck, feel," Blair gasped. She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach. It was not the first time he had felt it, but definitely the most defined kicking yet.

His palm rested atop her swollen belly. He felt his son kick against his palm, as if he knew who it was. All that separated them was skin, but it wouldn't be that way for long. In two months, he wouldn't be inside Blair anymore. He'd be there to hold, to see. Chuck closed his eyes and focused on the rhythmic kicking. It felt magical. There were butterflies in his stomach, but a kind that he had never felt before.

"My son," Chuck breathed.

"Your son," Blair smiled, "Rhett Bass."

The full pill bottle crashed to the floor and they scattered everywhere. He fled from the evil, tempting bathroom and went to the bed. Chuck grabbed the phone and dialed to the front desk.

"Mr. Bass, what can I do for you…" the woman started to ask, but was cut off.

"I want my private jet to be ready to leave within the hour. Call the airport and have it done, no acceptations." He then hung up the phone and packed his suitcase. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew that he sure as hell couldn't do anything where he was right now.

--

Twelve and a half hours later, Blair sat in her house, deadly silent. She was in her bed, where Mathew had put her. All of her tears had dried up. She didn't have any left. There was a blank expression on her face and her throat hurt to a point that she didn't want to say another word for the next hundred years. She knew that wouldn't happen though. She'd have to speak before too long.

"See, don't you feel better now that you're home?" Mathew asked as he came back into the bedroom. He carried a tray with him. Her eyes flickered to it.

It was a bowl of citrus fruit.

"I'm not hungry," Blair refused and shook her head. She didn't want to answer his other question. Instead, she lied down, on the edge of the bed. She wanted to feel alone, just her and the baby.

"Well the flight was long. You should rest some. Tomorrow you'll need to get back on schedule. We have society events to attend and the household has been suffering without you here to guide the staff," Mathew nodded. He got into bed next to her and turned her towards him.

"Is that all I'm good for, running the household?" she asked. Her voice sounded dry and uneven.

"Don't be ridiculous, Blair," he scoffed and rolled his eyes. Then his hand reached out and stroked her curls. She flinched, but he pretended not to notice.

"I'm so glad you decided to come home. Now we can just move on from this whole mess," Mathew sighed with a light smile. She didn't return it, but just focused on the sheets in between them.

"Well, goodnight." He sat up and turned off his lamp. When he lied back down and finally fell asleep, Blair got up from the bed. She walked, like a ghost, to the nursery that was basically set up. Her feet gave out from under her when she stood by the rocking chair. She fell into it and clutched the pillow she bought for her baby.

"I love you," Blair whispered to him. Her hands then moved and rested on her stomach.

He kicked. There was one person who could never leave her or be taken away from her. It felt like he was all she had now. The only joy left in her.

--

A/N: So…?