I didn't know my own strength
Lost touch with my soul
I had nowhere to turn
I had nowhere to go
"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," Amanda said, suddenly, ceasing every movement to look at Betty who was setting the table while she was trying to put the stuff scattered around the place away.
"Mandy, it's about time you and Marc try and get things sorted," the brunette told her friend, resuming her task, placing plates down on the white tablecloth. "It's like you and him are getting a divorce along with Daniel and Wilhelmina."
"Marc and I do speak to each other," Amanda pointed out, patting on the cushions of the couch. "Just, not that often."
"When was the last time you saw Marc?" Betty asked, lifting an eyebrow poignantly.
Amanda rolled her eyes. "That doesn't mean we don't talk."
"Amanda."
"The day Daniel left the apartment. He came by to pick up a few things, and he just said…nothing."
"What did he say?" Betty insisted.
"Nothing really," Amanda said, shrugging while she walked around the room picking up necklaces and accessories on her way. "Basically, I was hugging Daniel, because he was leaving, and Marc came in and he wasn't pleased. Then Daniel went away, and Marc just told me he needed space. That he loved me, that he wanted to help me, but that he had priorities and responsibilities towards the wronged one."
"That's…positive, I guess," Betty said, clearly having difficulties finding the bright on the matter. "I mean, he said he wanted to help you. I guess in time, when Wilhelmina will be better, he'll be back here."
"Yeah, when Wilhelmina doesn't need him anymore," Amanda said, bitterly. "The woman uses him like a mat."
"Ok, you're angry again," Betty said, shaking her head. She placed the last fork on the table and stepped back to admire her work. The table was set up for three people; nothing formal, but fancy enough to meet Marc's taste.
"What did he say, when you invited him over?" Amanda asked, biting her bottom lip, shoving the pieces of jewelry into a drawer and closing it.
"Nothing really. Muttered something about Daniel being out, and Sawyer being in the house, so he didn't feel guilty leaving Wilhelmina." When Amanda opened her mouth, Betty lifted a finger. "Don't. Don't ask who Sawyer is, and don't snap about Marc being Wilhelmina's mat. I get it."
"Who's Sawyer?" Amanda asked, ignoring Betty.
"No one."
"Is it the dog?" the girl insisted. "I heard she got a dog."
"No, that's Hudson," Betty said, smiling at the thought of the small puppy she still hadn't had a chance to meet. "Sawyer is…a guy. A guy that Marc and Wilhelmina hired to walk the dog, and take care of him. A dog-sitter."
"And what does that have to do with Wilhelmina?" Amanda pressed, narrowing her eyes.
Betty sighed. "Look, I'm not supposed to tell you about this, so don't tell Marc I told you." Betty paused, and Amanda nodded. "For what I understood, Sawyer is a guy that Marc thinks might help Wilhelmina… to move on."
"Move on?" Amanda repeated.
"Yes, move on, get over the situation, start over, whatever you want to call it." Betty was not at east, especially since she hadn't approved of Marc's decision in the first place. She thought their job, as friends, was to push them together, not pull them apart. "Daniel says he's like a model, or something, but I bet he was exaggerating."
"If I know Marc as much as I think I do, he's probably not exaggerating," Amanda chuckled. "Who knows, maybe that way Wilhelmina will get over the scorn." The girl pursed her lips, deep in thoughts of what Wilhelmina's possible romance with another man could bring home for her.
"Wilhelmina will never in a million years get over the scorn," Betty pointed out, but Amanda was miles away.
Lost sight of my dream,
Thought it would be the end of me
I thought I'd never make it through
I had no hope to hold on to,
I thought I would break
Marc glanced into the main room from the corridor, looking both ways, locating Sawyer standing on the couch. "Is Wilhelmina around?" he asked the man, whispering.
Sawyer looked around and shook his head, confused. "She's on the phone, in her room. Some designer. Why?"
Marc pushed through the doors and sprang forward into the room, reaching the man. "I need you to do me a favor."
"I don't have to kill anyone, do I?" Sawyer asked, a hint of panic in his voice.
Marc scoffed and waved his hand, laughing at the suggestion. "Maybe, one day," he said. "No, I need you to stay here."
"What do you mean?" Sawyer questioned, looking around uncomfortably.
"I'm going out, I'm having dinner at Amanda's," Marc said, still whispering.
"Amanda? That Amanda?" Sawyer chimed in.
"Yes, that Amanda," Marc said, quickly. "Now, I want you to stay here with Wilhelmina. I don't really want her to be alone, tonight, with Daniel gone and all. I think what happened got to her."
"What happened?" Sawyer kept asking, not really getting what the boy was talking about.
"Daniel, you know? Her ex husband? The one who walked in on you two in the closet?" Marc said, as if talking to a child.
"We were just talking," Sawyer said, for the umpteenth time that evening. "She was showing me those pictures, and I was trying to be helpful."
"Oh Sawyer, you have no idea of the many ways you could be helpful to that woman," Marc said dreamily, his eyes fixed on the man's toned biceps. Shaking his head out of his trance, Marc put on a smile. "Will you stay with her, please? At least till I come back? It won't be long, I swear."
"How am I supposed to do that?" Sawyer asked, with a grimace. "Hello Wilhelmina, how about we spend the evening together?" When Marc smiled, nodding, the man sighed. "Seriously, Marc. She will throw me out of the apartment. And fire me. She's not that easy going."
In that moment, they both heard a door being opened, in the background, and Marc's eyes widened He sprang to the entrance door and opened up, turning to Sawyer one last time. "Do what I told you!" he hissed, and shut the door before Sawyer could respond.
"Was that Marc?" Wilhelmina asked, stepping into the room, pointing at the door.
Sawyer opened his mouth and looked at the door. "Uhm, yeah," he said. "He's going out. He had…dinner. Business stuff."
"Business?" Wilhelmina asked, frowning. "Weird, I didn't know he had anything planned for tonight."
Sawyer tilted his head and nodded. He stood up and rubbed his hands together. "Where's the little one?" he asked, looking down in search for Hudson.
"In my room, chewing on an expensive belt," she said.
"And you're fine with it?" Sawyer exclaimed, with an amused smirk. "We're making progress."
"I never said it was mybelt," Wilhelmina pointed out. She looked down at her watch. "I don't mean to be rude but…why are you still here?" she asked.
"Oh, I wanted to…say hi," he said.
Wilhelmina lifted an eyebrow. "Hi."
Sawyer nodded, and with an awkward smile he moved for the door. Then he turned around, and saw Wilhelmina standing in the middle of the room, her arms around herself, and she never seemed more lonely to his eyes.
"Wilhelmina, how about…I mean, if you don't have plans…" he began, walking back to her. "We could…order a pizza?"
Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes. "Do I look like I eat pizza?" Wilhelmina asked. "Actually, do I look like I eat at all?"
"Well, how about I order pizza, and you just sit next to me being your pretty, annoying self?" he said, folding his arms against his chest.
"Wow," Wilhelmina exclaimed. "Pretty andannoying. You really are a charmer."
"I'm taking the sarcasm as a good sign," Sawyer said. "I thought you would have my ass out of the house in the blink of an eye."
"Oh, I was thinking about that," she said. But then I thought I would feel bad for that cute ass of yours."But I appreciate the attempt at courtesy."
"It's not courtesy, Wilhelmina," Sawyer replied, placing his hands on his hips. "Take it as a…way to get to know Hudson better."
"Hudson."
"Yeah, Hudson," Sawyer repeated, with a huge grin. "You know what they say, dogs resemble their masters. Therefore, getting to know you is the same as getting to know your dog."
"You're making my head hurt," she said, rubbing her temple but unable to hide the smile that curved her lips. "Alright, you can stay. But you need to find a way to order in, because I don't have any home deliveries menus."
"Don't worry, I'm sure I can come up with something edible."
The man walked past her, into the kitchen. Wilhelmina turned to follow him with her gaze.
Cute ass indeed.
"Careful whatever you do," she said, sighing and setting after him. "You scratch any surface, you pay for it."
I didn't know my own strength
And I crashed down, and I tumbled
But I did not crumble
I got through all the pain
I didn't know my own strength
Claire walked back into the saloon, where Daniel was standing next to the fireplace, reviving the flames with the iron poker, moving the logs around with more force than it was necessary. She cleared her throat, and her son turned around, placing the poker nearby.
With a small smile, Claire sat down on the couch and patted the spot next to her, inviting him to do the same. He sighed and shook his head, starting to pace in front of her.
"She's moving on," he said.
"What do you mean?" Claire asked. Of course she knew who the subject of her son's ramblings was.
"She's seeing someone else," he said, snorting.
"Oh, I saw the pictures on Page Six. But honestly, Daniel, I think you're reading too much into it," Claire said, trying to maintain the smile on her face despite the pain of watching the person she loved the most in the world crumbling before her eyes.
"It's not the fucking pictures," he exclaimed, stopping and linking his hands behind his head, taking a deep breath to calm down. "I saw her. She was…talking to that guy, and he was touching her, and she was... That's too close for comfort, Mum. That guy is trying to bed her." Daniel paused and let out a breath. "He's trying to bed my wife, he's trying to take her away from me."
"Daniel, darling, calm down," Claire tried, but Daniel was not willing to do so. "Daniel, look at me. Even if this person is trying to make a move on your exwife…Do you really think Wilhelmina would be that weak? Do you really think she would get a relationship started when she still has to close the door on the previous one? Come on, she's better than that."
"The divorce papers will be ready any day now, there will be nothing to stop her then," Daniel said, shaking his head in resignation. "She will do all it takes to get back at me, and to get back at all those people who've been watching her fall in delight. She's after revenge, Mum! Of course she will."
"Daniel, you surprise me. You really think Wilhelmina would sink that low?" she reprimanded him, furrowing her forehead. "I guess I know her better than you do, then."
Daniel bit his bottom lip, then he let his arms fall down his sides. "Call her," he said.
"What?"
"Call Wilhelmina. Ask her about this guy, she will tell you the truth. The two of you have a bond, Mum. Call her and ask her." He walked swiftly to the cordless standing on the side table and snatched it from the base. "Here," he said, handing it to his mother. "Call her."
Claire took the phone from Daniel's hands and stood up. "I'm not going to."
"Why?" Daniel asked.
"Because I care for that woman's happiness. I'm not going to be the one who undermines it. She's free to do whatever she wants to. Plus, I trust her. I trust Wilhelmina, and I know her, and I know she would never do such a thing." She handed the phone pack to his son. "I just wish you would trust her too."
Survived my darkest hour
My faith kept me alive
I picked myself back up
Hold my head up high
I was not built to break
I didn't know my own strength
Amanda's head snapped up when she heard the knock on the door. She was half surprised, because Marc had the keys and he wasn't one to knock when he had a chance to let himself in, and half terrified because it was actually the first time she saw him in a week. They never spent that much time apart, unless you count the time when they fought to decide what color to paint the wall with. Eventually, they'd decided for a mix between her pink and his yellow, resulting in a pale orange that they'd both loved at first sight.
Betty looked at her, before walking up to the door and placing her hand on the doorknob. With a last glance in her direction, Betty opened up.
When Marc came into sight, on the threshold, Amanda, felt her heart breaking. She wanted to run to her friend, hug him, hold him and never let him go. But she stayed there, petrified on the spot, as he exchanged greetings with Betty. He stepped over the threshold and his eyes fell on her. A small smile curved his lips. "Hi Mandy."
"Hi Marcia," she whispered, biting her bottom lip, doing her best not to burst into tears. "So, we have salad, grilled chicken, potatoes for the brunette over there," she said, gesticulating madly. "And I baked you a cake," she added, lowering her voice. "But Betty helped me. Without her help, it would be a shapeless amount of flour and sugar."
"You baked me a cake?" Marc said, smirking. "Flavor?"
"Coconut."
"Topping?"
"Chocolate."
Marc smiled. He took off the coat and threw it on the coat, turning to Betty. "Alright, you big furry ball, tell me something about your new awesome, kick-ass job."
Betty smiled and they sat down at the table. "Just the usual," she said, shrugging as she picked up the potatoes bowl and served herself. "The magazine is doing great," she said, passing the bowl to Marc who passed it to Mandy, who put it back on the table. "It's the second best-selling magazine in the UK. And I love it."
"Mode is thebest selling in the United States," Marc said, with a proud smile.
"The best selling in the fashion industry, Marc," Betty pointed out. "We're second, but on a much larger scale."
"Details," Marc said, shrugging. "Elle, Vogue and Isabella are far, far behind us."
"Oh, speaking of Isabella…" Amanda chimed in. "They offered me a one-year contract, just this morning. Apparently they liked my work ay Fashion Week."
"Really?" Marc said, genuinely happy for her. "That's good. It'll do, at least until…you know, things settle down."
"You think they will settle down?" Amanda asked, picking on her salad.
"Of course they will," Marc exclaimed. "Just give me the time to work my magic."
"Work your magic?" Betty intervened, with an inch of skepticism in her voice. "Does your magic include a hot SoCal boy, by any chance?"
"Betty, I know you're against it, but I have evidence this is my best plan so far," he said, going back to his salad. "They have chemistry. And he likes her already."
"What are you talking about?" Amanda asked. "Is this about what's-his-name, Sawyer?"
Marc turned to Betty narrowing his eyes. "I asked you to keep it quiet." Betty looked down on her plate, stuffing her mouth with a handful of potatoes. Marc turned to Mandy, again, and nodded. "Yes, but don't tell anyone. He's with her, right now," he added, putting emphasis on the last word.
Betty and Amanda exchanged a quick look, for very different reasons. Unbeknownst to the other, they were both thinking about Daniel and his reaction to a possible development such as Wilhelmina having a new relationship.
For very different reasons, though.
Found hope in my heart,
I found the light to life
My way out of the dark
Found all that I need
Here inside of me
She sipped from the glass of red wine, on the couch, while Sawyer was in the kitchen, apparently cooking. She had told him she was not going to eat, but she wasn't completely sure he would listen to her. While he'd been busy, she had gone back to her room and had changed into something more comfortable. Anyone rarely saw her in jeans, that was something she wore in the house only, and only after marrying Daniel.
So she stood there, in her jeans and an oversized t-shirt, drinking wine and waiting for the closest thing to a man in her life to be done cooking. She chuckled at the idea. One month earlier, Daniel would have been the one she had to wait for; Daniel would have been the one cooking - scratch that, Daniel couldn't cook.
Hudson was curled up at her feet, casually licking his paws and chewing on the corner of the carpet. She looked at the toys that lay abandoned near the pet. He had expensive taste, and apparently the animal toys weren't enough to satisfy him.
"For being so strict on eating habits, you have a lotof junk food in there," he said, walking into the room with a tray and various bowls and plates on it. He put it down on the coffee table before the couch, sitting down next to Wilhelmina. She looked down at the things laid on the tray, and grimaced.
"I have no idea what that stuff is," she said.
"Was in your cupboard," he said with a grin, reaching out and taking a handful of chips.
"Must be Daniel's," she said, looking blankly at the chips on his hand. Sawyer stopped, shifting his gaze from the chips to Wilhelmina and back on the chips. Wilhelmina smirked. "It's ok, you know, Daniel's name is not taboo."
Sawyer leaned back against the cushion and nodded slowly. "You know where he might be?" he asked.
"I don't care," Wilhelmina said, taking a large gulp from her drink. "I hope he's under a bridge."
"No you don't," Sawyer said, smirking.
Wilhelmina, with a sigh, shrugged. "No, I don't," she agreed. "But I can't say I'm sorry for him staying out of the way."
"You think he's going to come back, tonight?" Sawyer asked, throwing a chip up in the air and catching it with his mouth.
Wilhelmina watched him, amused, then shook her head. "I don't think so. He's probably at his mother's, licking his wounds." Hudson lifted his head up and looked up at Wilhelmina. When he was sure she wasn't looking, he stood on his four legs and waggled to the coffee table, standing on his back legs, and tried to sniff the food on the table.
Sawyer saw it and he reached for the puppy, lifting him up and putting him on the couch in between himself and Wilhelmina. "Here, boy."
"Shouldn't you teach him notto do this kind of thing? Like, getting on the couch and all the rest?" Wilhelmina asked, reaching her hand down to stroke the puppy on the head.
"I know, but he's a little spoilt baby dog," the man said, sticking his tongue out at the dog. However, Hudson was too busy receiving Wilhelmina's attention and he rolled on his back. Wilhelmina laughed and retrieved her hand, looking down on him. "You love him, don't you?"
Wilhelmina looked the man dead straight in the eyes, frowning.
"I meant Hudson," Sawyer added quickly.
Wilhelmina rested her head on the back of the couch, looking lovingly at the small puppy who was stretching his paws up in the air, trying to catch their attention. "I think I do," she whispered. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a dog person. But this little one…He just came in at the right moment."
"I think you're not as carnaptious as people say," Sawyer said, his eyes fixed on Wilhelmina. "They painted you as a cold, mean, ruthless witch…but in truth, I think you just want to love. Completely and unconditionally."
Wilhelmina tilted her head and looked up at the man. "You might not read Mode, but you're most definitely a reader of Vanity Fair."
Sawyer lifted an eyebrow. "Four sisters," he repeated.
"Yeah right," she said. "Keep telling yourself that."
They shared a laugh, and Hudson yapped happily at the two of them, wagging his tail madly. Wilhelmina closed her eyes and for a second she allowed herself to feel good.
I thought I'd never find my way
I thought I'd never lift that weight
I thought I would break
The morning after, Wilhelmina stood in the kitchen, dressed to a T, ready to go to Mode when Marc walked in. He smiled sheepishly while she drank from her coffee, closing the newspaper in front of her. "How was your business dinner?" she asked.
It took him a single look to know she hadn't believed it for a second. "I'm sorry Willie."
"I'm not mad," Wilhelmina cut him off. "I just wish you'd told me. You know I'm trying hard not to draw you into all of this, and if you have to sneak out because of me…That makes me feel guilty. And I'm tired of feeling guilty for everything that's going wrong in the world."
Her voice was calm, but Marc knew her well: she was trying hard to look indifferent to the situation, but deep inside his lie had hurt her. "Yes Willie," he said, nodding. "Where's Hudson?"
"With Sawyer. He thinks walking early in the morning is good for his lungs. I tried to tell him it's New York, and there's no such thing as clean air, but he wouldn't listen. Anyway, thank you for the newspaper, and the coffee," she said, raising the mug. "What time did you get up?"
"Early," he said, moving with caution. "I went out, bought the newspaper and the coffee, and…you got a delivery." He looked carefully at his boss, choosing every word with prudence. "I signed it for you. It's on the table."
"What is it?" she asked, heading towards the dining room, Marc following quick after her.
"I don't know," he lied.
They approached the table and Marc came up behind her, looking down on the package. It was a yellow folder, big enough to contain only a bunch of papers, certainly not an object. He bit his lip and stole a glance of her. She was looking down at the envelope, while her brain computed what was she was being presented with.
"Is that…"
"I think so," Marc whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok?"
Wilhelmina shrugged his hand off her and scoffed. "Of course I am."
But she wasn't. She reached for the envelope and turned it around, tossing it back on the table when the address of the sender was in sight. Brian Perskin Law Office.
The divorce papers.
She took a deep breath and turned her back on the table, and on the package, walking away under Marc's scrutinizing stare. "Aren't you going to open it?" he asked.
"I have to go to work," she said briskly. "And you have to go, too. I'll see you there." She turned around and tilted her head, linking her hands in front of her. She tapped her foot on the floor, and widened her eyes in question.
"Oh you mean now?" Marc said. "You're basically throwing me out."
"For the morning, yes," she said, with a smirk.
Marc sighed and his shoulders fell. Walking up to the door, he stopped on his way to catch his briefcase, which lay abandoned on the couch. "It's ok," he said. "They called anyway, they need me there asap. No idea what it was, they said my presence in the office was of immediate urgency." He opened the door and looked over his shoulder before stepping out. "Are you sure you're ok?" he added.
Wilhelmina nodded, one last time, and the boy closed the door behind him. When she was alone, n the apartment, she turned her head in the direction of the yellow envelope, on the table, and watched it from afar. Her fingers were toying nervously with the fabric of her skirt, and she was chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. She was about to move when a knock on the door stopped her.
She rolled her eyes, and walked to the door, cursing Marc and his caring behavior. "Marc, I know you want to take care of me but-" she stopped dead on her tracks when the door was opened enough to see who it was.
Her lips parted lightly, as the air was sucked out of her lungs and her heart stopped for a fraction. Looking the visitor from head to toe, she gripped the doorknob tighter.
"Fey."
"Let me in, I can't risk being seen," the woman said.
Wilhelmina took in her appearance: the long black coat, the golden belt high around her waist, the golden stilettos and big dark sunglasses. For Fey, that was dressing down. She stepped aside, letting the ghost of her past into her house.
I didn't know my own strength
And I crashed down, and I tumbled
But I did not crumble
I got through all the pain
I didn't know my own strength
Daniel was looking at the man sitting right opposite him, but truthfully he was seeing right through him. The man - Steven? Simon? He couldn't remember, for the life of God. However, he had been talking for a few minutes, not giving him any chance to butt in. Daniel had no idea what the man was talking about, but nodded a time or two to show interest.
When Steven (or Simon) stopped, however, and looked at him expectantly, Daniel sighed. "Look Steven-"
"Stan."
"Stan. I'm sure you're aware that a few articles in Vogue and an internship at Elle don't make you nearly enough qualified to apply for the position of Creative Director here at Mode," Daniel said, writing a note down on his agenda. Or at least pretending to do so, when he had actually just drawn a doodle resembling Hudson's muzzle.
Stan opened his mouth to reply, but Daniel lifted his hand. "Now, I'm sure you're a good man, and a good journalist, and a good whatever you are. But I'm also sure you knew your curriculum vitae wasn't good enough for such a prestigious position at Mode, and that you're here only because you're attracted to the media frenzy going around this place at this moment. Now, how about you don't waste my time, and I won't waste yours, and we say goodbye in a civilized manner before I lose my temper and kick you out of here?"
Stan's eyes widened, and the man stood up, his hands clutching the hat in his hands. He nodded once and scurried away, bumping into a tall woman on his way out.
"Bad mood?" asked the newcomer.
Daniel looked up and saw his mother standing on the threshold peeking in. He motioned for her to come in, and she did, sitting on the chair that had been occupied by Stan. She looked at Daniel for a few seconds, with a serene smile on her face, taking in the rigidity in Daniel's muscles just by looking.
"What do you want?" Daniel asked. He hadn't meant to be rude, but given the bad turn of the day, he wasn't in the mood for smothering.
Claire didn't bat an eyelid, but her smile did falter the tiniest bit at his son's attitude. "Have you done something about the electrical glitch we've been experiencing at Mode?" she asked, assuming suddenly a very professional tone.
Daniel looked at her confused. "Electrical glitch?"
"Daniel, I told you five times at least, in the last couple of days," Claire complained, rolling her eyes.
"Well, I'm sorry but the last couple of days haven't been exactly good for me," Daniel snapped. "And if it's that bad, you might have solved the problem on your own. Or Wilhelmina might have, too. Oh but you're too busy, aren't you? She's busy with her new boy toy, and you're busy with your tongue stuck behind her ass."
Claire gasped and her eyes widened. She stood up and took a step forward. "Don't you ever talk to me like that, Daniel Meade," she hissed, lifting a finger. Her hands were shaking in anger, and the blood in her veins was boiling. "I am your mother, and I'm doing all I can to support you, so don't you dare take it out on me, only because I'm trying to be neutral and not hurt any of you."
"You are mymother, exactly," Daniel snapped back, standing up like her, with only a desk dividing them. "And yet, you refuse to do what I ask you to, what I beg you to do, because you care about herhappiness. What kind of a lousy mother are you?"
Claire lifted her hand high, but stopped herself before she could hit him. They stood there, mother and son, face to face, neither moving. Then, Claire slowly lowered her hand and let her arm fall down her side. She took a deep breath and folded her arms.
"You're nervous," she told him, but it was really meant more for herself than for him. "You're mad at the world, I get it. I'm not gonna get into a fight with you. It would be pointless." She turned around and set off, stopping casually midway. "Remember to send out the instructions and the tickets for the annual editors' retreat. It's in a week. I took care of the organizing part, your assistant put everything on your computer. And don't worry, I'll take care of the electrical problem down at Mode. We wouldn't want to upset you more."
The last sentence was spoken with a bitterness that made Daniel feel guilty all over again, for the way he was treating his mother. As he watched her retreat from the room, he felt bad for her, and for what she was going through, but at the same time he was reminded of the countless times he had almost forced Claire and Wilhelmina to get along.
And now, it was all coming back to bite him.
Survived my darkest hour
My faith kept me alive
I picked myself back up
Hold my head up high
I was not built to break
I didn't know my own strength
"Aren't you going to offer me something to drink?" Fey asked, taking off the coat and tossing it on Wilhelmina's hanger, revealing the vivid blue dress underneath.
"Arsenic?" Wilhelmina offered, folding her arms. She hadn't moved from her spot near the door, watching her guest move around the house with a familiarity she didn't like. "Why are you here Fey?"
Fey let her hand slide on the surface of the baroque side table, passing her fingers over the refined details. "To catch up, talk…That's what old friends do, right?" Then, with a chuckle, she tilted her head. "Not that I would know, I hardly had any real friends."
"And I was definitely not one of them," Wilhelmina pointed out, taking a few steps forward, following the other woman's movement with careful eyes. "We have nothing to catch up on."
Fey turned around, widening her eyes. "Nothing? Oh dear, you married a Meade. That's like me sitting by a pool with Anna Wintour, drinking Piňa Colada and chatting about how much we miss Twiggy."
Wilhelmina narrowed her eyes. "That has nothing to do with you. Daniel and I are a subject that doesn't involve you in any way."
Fey smirked. "I know," she said, pouting. "But you'll admit that it's an interesting story, isn't it? And you know me, and how I love interesting stories." She walked to the couch and sat down graciously, crossing her legs. "Come on, Wilhelmina. I'm not here to damage you in any way. I'm being honest. I would love to know how it happened. Basically, you did what I never managed to do." She paused, surely for the suspense she loved so much. "You married a Meade. I'm impressed, I must say. You really did make a mission of following into my footsteps."
Wilhelmina lifted an eyebrow. "I was worth it."
To anyone, Fey's reaction would appear to be a small smile, but Wilhelmina saw the ice in her eyes, and knew she had hurt her.
Fey leaned against the back of the couch and looked around once again. "Your apartment is different."
"Are you working for Extreme Makeover: Home Editionnow?" Wilhelmina asked, pursing her lips.
Fey rolled her eyes and snorted. "Alright, Wilhelmina, I told you I'm not here to antagonize you," she exclaimed, the false pleasantry gone from her stare, replace by the usual steeliness, something that made her appear more normal to Wilhelmina, more like the person she used to know. More real. "Can we just talk, for once? Without the anger, the resentment. Just…talk?"
Wilhelmina's arms fell down her sides, as she allowed herself to relax a bit. She took a few more hesitant steps and went to sit next to Fey. As much as she tried to look poised and controlled, her body language betrayed her, as her foot tapped uncontrollably on the floor, nervously. Fey stretched her arm out and placed her hand on Wilhelmina's knee: the movement stopped immediately. She would never admit it, but Wilhelmina would never cease being intimidated of Fey Sommers.
"So…" Fey began. "Start from the beginning."
There were so many times I
Wondered how I'd get through the night I
Thought I took all that I could take
Claire was walking quickly on the sidewalk, holding her white chinchilla stole around her neck, holding the phone against her ear. After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up the phone.
"Jake Hunter speaking," said the voice on the other end.
"Mister Hunter, this is Claire Meade," she said.
"Miss Meade!" exclaimed the man. "What a surprise, I haven't seen you in a long time."
"Guess the lights in my house have been functioning fully well, thank you," she said, with a smile. "Jake I have a problem that I need you to solve, at Mode. It's a gl-"
She stopped, eyes wide, when she saw the person walking towards her. She recognized him immediately from the newspapers, and forgetting the person waiting on the other end she snapped the phone shut. The man walked past her, and she turned to follow him with her gaze. Before he was too distant, she called after him.
"Sawyer?"
The man stopped, pulling at the leash in his hand. Hudson stopped too and looked around, wondering why his walk had been interrupted. Sawyer looked at the woman who had called him, not recognizing a familiar face. "Yes ma'am?"
Claire put on a smile and drew closer to the man, stretching her arm out. "I'm sorry, you don't know me of course. I'm Claire Meade."
Sawyer shook her hand kindly, with the bright smile he never denied to anyone. "Meade? As in..related to Daniel Meade?" he asked.
Claire nodded. "Yes," she said, nodding. "I'm his mother. And Wilhelmina's friend."
"Oh, so you're the Claire she mentions from time to time," Sawyer exclaimed. Hudson, meanwhile, walked up to Claire and began to sniff her feet. "I thought you were a friend or something, she always speaks highly of you. I never thought she would still be in contact with, you know…"
"Her ex husband's mother?" Claire offered. "Yes, I know. Wilhelmina and I have had a…peculiar relationship, throughout the years. Ours is not what you would consider an ordinary in-laws relationship." Feeling the cool feeling on her leg, Claire looked down and saw the little dog licking her. "Hey, you're Hudson, aren't you?"
The puppy looked up and yapped, wagging its tail furiously.
"That would be him," Sawyer said, with a proud smile. "Well, Miss Meade, it's been a pleasure, but I really have to take this little one back home, before Mommy starts worrying."
Claire tilted her head, taken aback. "Oh, ok…" she trailed off, looking surprised. "Tell Mommy…Tell her I said hi."
"Will do, Ma'am," he exclaimed, and pulling lightly at the leash the tall, handsome man and the small dog walked away, leaving Claire in the middle of the sidewalk, confused and concerned, her phone call long forgotten.
I didn't know my own strength
And I crashed down, and I tumbled
But I did not crumble
Wilhelmina took a deep breath and let her mind wander back to how it had all began, to the first time she'd actually seen more of him, than the young, spoilt brat she'd been used to considering him.
"It started four years ago. Daniel and I were…sharing the company. And it was bad, really bad. Imagine me and you, only ten times worse, because this time Daniel and I shared not only Mode, but Meade too. It was constant battle of power, it was frustrating, but at the same time it was enflaming, challenging, exciting. Every time I would step into that office, I would be drowned with scenarios in which I could humiliate him and belittle him. It was addictive."
Fey chuckled. "That's the Wilhelmina I know."
Wilhelmina snorted, and shrugged. "Then, this one night…we went out. Together. A date, or something. By accident, we were paired up by a dating service. We found ourselves stuck together on a boat. We had to cooperate, we had to be a team. And it worked. After that night, we parted ways serenely, thinking it would be the start of a new partnership, maybe based on something we had never tried."
"Like?"
"Trust."
Fey nodded. "The old trust," she said. "Always manages to put you in the worst situations."
"Yes," Wilhelmina said, shaking her head. "We started to spend more time together in the same room, without wanting to slit each other's throat. I started to listen to what he had to say, and he began to trust my decisions. It was a first, for both of us. We were developing the closest thing to a friendship the two of us could hope for."
"And then?" Fey asked.
"Then…I don't know when it changed. I don't know when he started to see me differently, but he did. I think he got sucked into his own feelings, and he fell deep into a trap I hadn't meant to prepare. He started to like me. He liked me, and he tried to hide it at first, but you know how these things work. The more you hide it, the more they eat you from inside."
Wilhelmina fell silent for a moment, and Fey allowed her that moment.
"Anyway," she reprised. "You know better than anyone what a working relationship can turn into if you spend too much time together. I don't remember when it happened, but it did. And he got attached. At first, I thought of it as a fling. Then, I started to consider it a casual, convenient liaison. But after months of putting up with my shit, he got tired. And he gave me an ultimatum. As I said, he was involved, deeply. I dare say he was falling in love, or maybe he had already, I don't know. But he asked me to give it a go. He asked me to let him go, if I didn't feel anything at all. I couldn't. Let him go, I mean. I couldn't let him go, because we had a good thing going, and I wasn't sure of my feelings. So I postponed my decision until he couldn't stand it anymore and he got really, reallymad. That's when I told him we might give it a go."
Fey interrupted her. "How many months?"
"Ten," Wilhelmina told her. "I know now it wasn't nearly enough, to really know a person. I wish I'd waited, I wish I'd asked for more time. I wish so many things, but that's all in the past." She paused, looking down, bitterly. "We had been officially together for one year and a half, or so, when he proposed. By then, I'd fallen for the young boy charm,the idea that the villain might indeed live the fairytale. I believed he could be the one, I believed everything we'd been through had to be a test, and because we passed it without killing each other, it only meant we had to be together. I don't know Fey, I just lost any sort of contact with reality, because if I had been realistic I would have realize a long time ago, way before this shit started, that people like me and Daniel are not destined to live fairytales. Not together, at least."
Whatever she was about to say went forgotten when the two women heard the noise of a key turning into the keyhole, and the doorknob turned slowly. They stopped breathing for a second, when the tall, blond, muscular man stepped over the threshold, with Hudson yapping happily behind him.
"Hey there," he said, winking at Wilhelmina. Then, with a nod of his head, he greeted Fey. "Hello Ma'am, just pretend I'm not here, I didn't mean to disturb."
Sawyer patted his leg and walked away, headed for the bathroom, Hudson waggling goofily behind him.
Wilhelmina and Fey stood up as soon as the bathroom door closed, and they looked at each other, panic in their eyes.
"He doesn't know who you are," Wilhelmina exclaimed.
"He doesn't know who I am?"
"You have to go!"
"I have to go!" Fey repeated, again.
"Stop repeating everything I say!" Wilhelmina hissed, verging on hysteria. The two women ran to the door and Wilhelmina snatched Fey's coat and thrust it in her arms, opening the door and pushing her out.
"We're not done, Wilhelmina," Fey hissed.
"Yes, but not with Sawyer in the house!" she exclaimed. "I'll talk with Claire. She'll arrange a meeting. We can talk then."
She moved to close the door, but Fey stopped it with her hand, pushing it lightly back. "It's not true."
"What?"
"You didn't lose contact with reality," she said. "You just fell in love."
Wilhelmina was about to reply when she heard Sawyer's voice drawing closer, and instead she just slammed the door shut, turning on her heels in time to see Sawyer and Hudson coming back into the room.
"You didn't have to get rid of her just because I'm here," he said.
"Oh, it's ok, we were done anyway," she said, stuttering to find composure. "So, how was the walk?"
Sawyer narrowed his eyes. "It was a walk," he stated, chuckling. "Oh!" he said, remembering his meeting. "I met your husband's mother. She says hi."
"You met Claire?" Wilhelmina asked, and followed him into the kitchen. "What did she say?"
"Nothing really," he said, shrugging and opening the fridge. "Just usual, awkward chit chat."
"Awkward?" Wilhelmina questioned.
"Yeah, she was not at ease," he said, closing the fridge again. "This thing needs to be filled," he said, pointing at it.
"Yes, yes, Martha Stewart," Wilhelmina said. "What do you mean awkward?" she kept inquiring.
"You know, she was dying to ask if the stuff in the papers was true."
He circled the counter and came to stand before her, leaning his side against the counter and folding his arms, the movement highlighting the muscles in his arms. He looked down on her, with that smile that made her knees go weak.
"What?" she asked, uncomfortable.
"Is it true?" he asked, with a small shrug. "Am I your rebound guy?"
Wilhelmina gasped. "What! No, of course - I mean… we're not even - Oh get over yourself."
She looked at him and noticed the twitch in his lips, understanding he was suppressing a full on laughter.
"You're pulling my leg," she stated, shaking her head.
He snorted. "Of course I am," he said, with a wink. "Plus, to be a rebound guy we would have to go at least to third base ."
Wilhelmina rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, walking away.
When she reached the dining room, again, her eyes fell on the yellow envelope she'd tried to ignore, and she knew there was something that needed to be done.
I got through all the pain
I didn't know my own strength
Survived my darkest hour
My faith kept me alive
I picked myself back up
Hold my head up high
On the landing, Daniel stared at the door. He had his keys, in his hand, but found himself scared to open the door to what had been his home for the past two years. Afraid of what he would find inside, afraid of the person he would find inside, afraid of the person he loved and what he might see in her eyes if he'd stopped long enough to read through them.
So, he rang the bell. He rang the bell to his motherfucking house, and it felt like a freaking joke just thinking about it.
He heard the noises coming from the inside, then silence. He knew she was there, behind the door, breathing in and out, taking her time to open the door to the person who had hurt her like no one had ever had.
The door opened up and he looked into her eyes. "Hey," he whispered. "I got your text."
Wilhelmina nodded and stepped aside letting him in.
"You said you had something to tell me?" he asked, trying hard to shove away the tiny bit of hope that always came out to suggest maybe this time she would tell him she loved him, and that she forgave him.
"Yes," she said, walking past him and inviting him to follow her. He walked behind her, through the rooms that seemed so different from the rooms he'd lived in. She led him to the room that had been his studio, where most of his things had been packed and shipped to Claire's already; the day after that infamous night. In the middle of the room stood only his old desk, with a yellow envelope standing out against the dark surface of the table.
"What is that?" he asked, looking at Wilhelmina who came to a halt at the side of the desk.
"You know what those are," she said, her voice firm and controlled on the outside. He didn't miss the small, imperceptible twitch in her lips. "You need to sign, Daniel."
He walked up to the desk and took the envelope. It had been opened already, so he just lifted the flap and reached inside, taking the contents out. It was a stack of papers, he didn't even bother reading it, skimming through the last page. He looked at the spot where he was supposed to sign on and felt the sudden void in his stomach.
He put it back down, and looked at her. "I will sign," he said. "But I need time. All I'm asking is a few days, to work up the courage."
Wilhelmina looked at the papers and sighed. "It's not such a big deal."
"It is a fucking big deal," he responded, not letting his tempers flare, fighting hard against himself to keep calm. "It might not be a big deal for you, but it is for me. I need time."
Just as he turned his back on her and began to walk away, she called after him. "Don't take forever. I want my life back."
I was not built to break
I didn't know my own strength