A/N: Mature content in this chapter! Just giving a fair warning.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Like A Mother Scorned
''Love is a striking example of how little reality means to us.''
''Mr. Bass isn't home,'' Maid jadedly called out over her shoulder as elevator bell rang, announcing a visitor. She was leaning over a coffee table in the hall, her back turned to whoever was to come. ''Come back later.''
Upon hearing the sound of the approaching footsteps, she flung down the business magazines she'd been alphabetizing and huffed in annoyance, ''Ma'am, we're not receiving any visitors at the moment. ''
Evelyn, poised in the hall like a picture of elegant superiority, carefully took off her coat and handed it to flabbergasted staff. ''Good,'' She quietly said, clasping her own hands. The maid was a new addition to penthouse, she noted and excused her impertinence. ''I'll be at my sons bedroom and would appreciate it if you fetched me before anyone came in.''
Maid's pretty face formed into a grimace of surprise and she quickly bowed at the recognition of the visitor. ''Yes, madam. As you wish madam.''
The staff seemed to be getting younger and younger. For a second, Evelyn wondered if her ex-husband hired them for his own benefit or Chuck's? She didn't mind the skimpy outfit, sky-high impractical heels or caked make-up. Evelyn learned at the early years of her first marriage that women were disposable good for men. A note of contempt struck her heart, but she brushed it off as she entered Chuck's bedroom.
Smiling, Evelyn's fingers slid over antique dresser with gold ornaments. It was 18th century piece of furniture, once belonging to one of the grand rooms in Versailles. He let her choose this one. For the first time, Chuck wanted his mother's opinion on room decoration. Only, it was more than simple room decoration. It was the bonding process; consultations, debates and eventually - agreements.
They changed everything, but he was adamant in not changing the bedsheets.
She admired the splendor of the room, an effort they both gave to produce something together, as her hands shuffled through drawers, in search of the box. Some days ago, Chuck invited her for dinner and presented her with the handsome mahogany box - a stored place brimming with pictures, memories and buried pain.
''This will always be part of me,'' She remembered him saying with forced calmness. ''But I think it's time for new memories.''
Evelyn realized how much resolution it took him to show himself, to shed down shell and be left exposed and barren. Chuck made a decision to share his most private corners of his soul with her. She barely held the tears at bay as she stared at family pictures and Chuck kept silent. They never talked about it again.
Today, she would use those pictures, not for tears but for smiles. Chuck's birthday was in few days and she wanted to surprise him with a scrapbook - a handmade gift, crafted with love and care as it should be. One half of it would be filled with happy pictures of their family and the other half would be left empty - ready for new ones.
As she opened the drawers, her wrist caught on one of the handles and troublesome Cartier bracelet unclasped, rolling under the bed.
''Not again,'' She whispered, kneeling down on plush carpet and reaching under the bed. Something thin and solid crumpled under her grasp. Pulling back, she noticed it was a piece of paper.
Specifically, a letter.
A tear-stained letter with smudgy ink.
Embarrassed at invading her son's privacy, Evelyn quickly folded the paper. No, she would not read his love letters. This was his intimate property. It wasn't her business and she wasn't that kind of a mother.
But what was it doing under the bed? Between dried drops and blurry lines, her eyes caught a single sentence that tugged on her heartstrings; I am a liar.
Who was a liar? What could they lie about?
She would just take a peek. One peek to ensure this was something trivial, a teenager poetical blow-out.
Pushing the nagging feeling aside, her mother instincts prevailed and with shaking hands, she opened the letter. Evelyn inhaled a sharp breath as she read the first line.
Chuck, it said.
Everything I kept buried in myself, everything I couldn't confess to you... I'm writing now.
Why am I writing it in a letter? Why do I not simply come up to you and say it?
Because looking into your eyes, tracing the lines of your face, I lose every ability to speak.
I regret so much, Chuck. I regret so many things that they are eating me alive at night. I regret it for you sake.
I wish I could turn back the clock to the time when we first met. Do you remember?
I'll never forget that day. It was September, first day of class.
You were so different back then.
I took me so long to say yes to you because I... I am not the Blair that you know.
Chuck, I am a liar. I'm not rich. You hate my family. My brother Dan stole your car and somehow our lives twisted in some sick knot.
Chuck, I am a nobody, somebody you'd pass on the street without a second glance.
I'm a daughter of a maid and sister of a thief.
''Mrs Evelyn!'' Maid called out from the hallway. Evelyn hastily stuffed the letter into her purse and got off the floor, her trembling hands wiping the dust from her silken dress.
''I didn't expect you here,'' Chuck announced, walking in the room and quickly scanning her face. ''Are you okay?''
Evelyn shook her head and took a deep breath, trying to gather her wits. ''I - I didn't eat anything today.''
''I had some business to attend to just earlier, but you must stay for lunch.'' He took her elbow gently and led her out of the room, his eyes briefly glancing towards bed. ''Mother it isn't healthy for you to go about hungry. I know it's Manhattan fashion to starve, but you need to eat something.''
She looked up into his eyes, deep between the thick branches of darkness in the iris, into the void of his essence and searched for the truth.
Did he read the letter? Was he aware of it's contents?
His face was strangely alighted with certain kind of glow, a glow that was almost impossible to come across these days.
No, he must not have read it. Otherwise, he wouldn't act so calm and satisfied. What had happened that the letter ended up under his bed?
It didn't matter. Evelyn sat on the dining table as he pulled up a chair for her. ''Where's Blair?'' She gingerly asked, scrutinizing his face for a reaction.
''Home,'' Chuck simply responded, pouring a glass of water for her. ''I'll be meeting her later.''
''You're getting me worried,'' She dryly explained and took a gulp to release some tension in parched throat.
''What is that supposed to mean?''
Evelyn forced a small laugh as the maid entered the room and wheeled lunch in. She lifted up the lid and served them each a portion of delicious peking duck. ''I'm just saying you two seem to be getting serious.''
''We are.'' His reply was brief as he unbuttoned his blazer.
She cleared her throat and waited until the maid left the room. Her voice lowered down, ''Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?''
Her son didn't reply. He busied himself with slicing the piece of duck, but small crease on his forehead was indicator that mother's words produced an effect on him. ''I love her,'' Chuck said as if it was something that couldn't be helped, something inevitable yet not at all unwelcome.
''Love is like a curtain, sometimes,'' She mused, thinking about her own failed marriage with Bart. ''A beautiful curtain set over our eyes, clouding our vision. It hides bad things and the truth.''
Chuck looked up, steadily meeting his mother's gaze.
''My darling,'' She continued, her voice slightly shaking. ''Love dies. And the truth remains in it's stead, whether we see it or not.''
His jaw clenched and Chuck sighed, ''I've told you all my problems regarding Blair and now you want me to pay for it.''
Evelyn shut her eyes as pain struck her somewhere behind the lids. She didn't want him to regret opening up to her. She didn't want to lose his trust and this newly formed bond. It was a luxury to her, a piece of heaven that she could escape to when sorrow overcame her. Her son brought light into her life. He was the last thing she was willing to give up. ''No, I-.''
In that moment, Chuck's phone rang and he dropped his utensils with surprisingly unnecessary force. His voice was irked, his eyes flashing lightings. ''You believe I won't be able to be happy with her,'' He continued savagely, his mood quickly turning gloomy and in that moment - Evelyn realized the true extent of Blair's power over him. It terrified her.
''You know what?'' Chuck said darkly, gripping the phone and intensely staring at the flashing number on screen. ''I don't care if I'm happy or not. I just want to be close to her.''
The phone kept ringing, perverting the tense silence, filling ominous room with the tedious noise. A sound of doom, a sound of a bloodshed. How dare she call him? After everything she wrote in that letter?
Evelyn got up, pushing the chair behind and looming over her son. ''Chuck, darling. I'm your mother. I worry about your well-being.''
Somehow, those caring words seemed to soften Chuck. He threw away his napkin and got up too. ''Alright, calm down. I didn't want to upset you. Honestly, at this point, the only thing that could take away my happiness is life without Blair.''
Evelyn gulped heavily, staring at her son. Sacrificing Blair would mean sacrificing her son's joy. A rippling sense of agony seared through her chest and she fought with inner turmoil. ''Fine,'' She finally said after some consideration. Maybe the traitorous liar is calling him to confess. ''I think you should answer that.''
He stared at the screen, impatience in every pore of his skin oozing with desire to answer that call. She kissed his cheek, a Juda's kiss that burned her lips. ''I'll be back later.''
As she walked out of the penthouse, she heard him answer the call, ''No, nothing's happened. Why do you ask?''
''Are we going to address the big fat elephant in the room,'' Chuck calmly said, dismissing the waiter and pouring her wine himself.
It was warm evening and Tropic was crowded with prestigious guests who ever-so-often threw subtle glances towards their table. It was still a novelty to see Chuck Bass dining with the same girl twice in a row; let alone with someone whom he called a girlfriend. ''Or do you want to keep this charade and pretend nothing's happened?''
Her gut lurched, turning upside down and she gripped the edges of the table. Bordeaux color of the wine swirled and curved around the ends of the glass, and she thought of downing it in a single gulp. The letter was gone. And Chuck made absolutely no indication he read it.
Did he read it? Where was the letter?
She got home last night, happy and overflowing with strange kind of vigor. The morning brought on crude reality. Her body was sore and when she reached for the letter - it wasn't in the pocket. She thought it dropped in his penthouse, but Chuck gave no sign he read it.
''What do you mean?'' She said coldly and quickly took a gulp of wine.
''Last night,'' He sighed and looked away, scratching his neck. Was he uncomfortable?
''What?'' She now prodded, genuinely curious of the reason behind his fidgeting. It wasn't very Chuck Bass to fidget.
''Was I-'' He cleared his throat and fixed his bow-tie. ''Was it good? For you?''
Blair stared at him, long and hard. ''Are you joking?''
''Obviously not,'' His answer was brittle.
Despite the tension in her chest, Blair managed a smile and put her palm over his. Dynamic between them did shift since events of last night, the flame of the desire burst and changed color, but all of that seemed overshadowed by the anxiety of lost confession. ''You were great.''
He squeezed her hand and she pulled back, muttering and rolling her eyes ''Not that I have any reference level, really.''
''Let's keep it that way,'' He leaned back smugly. ''I'll take that as a compliment by the way.''
''Typical Bart Bass,'' he muttered, glancing towards the entrance and straightening lapels of his grey pinstripe suit. ''First he invites me to dinner and then he doesn't show up.''
Blair picked on her cuticles, a nervous habit she acquired since childhood. ''He's probably just running late.''
Chuck leaned across the table and whispered conspiratorially, ''This is our chance, let's dine and dash.''
''You own this place,'' She quipped with narrowed eyes. ''You'd be stealing from yourself.''
Chuck exhaled heavily, looking away from her in discomfort. ''He doesn't even care about these things.''
''I think he does,'' Blair answered honestly, adjusting her headband. Her foot kept tapping, only sign that showed she wasn't as collected as she appeared to be. ''He's trying to get close to you.''
He looked back at her, his eyebrows knotted. ''What does that even mean?''
''Back at the hospital... I don't like thinking about those times, but your dad was scared for you.''
''That man is afraid of nothing,'' Chuck stated gloomily, disturbed by memories and recollections.
''Chuck,'' A high pitched voice called out and long-legged brunette in tight white dress came into view. She wasn't beautiful, the girl was sexy and everything about her screamed money; from diamond earrings to Giuseppe Zanotti ostentatious heels.
She approached the table, completely ignoring Blair and flashed him a full pearly-white grin. ''I hope you're feeling better. You promised me another date last time we had fun here. To be honest, I was worried that time would never come.''
Chuck's face was impassive as he stole a glance towards Blair. To an untrained eye, her demeanor would seem cool and unaffected, but he knew she was reeling, seeping with anger, mentally preforming hara kiri on this girl whose name he never bothered to remember. What he did remember was kicking her out of the house the moment she stepped in. It was the time that he realized nobody would ever be able to replace Blair.
The girl looked at his girlfriend for the first time and her smile broadened maliciously. Blair's lips did almost the same thing, but her mimic was twisted, disoriented and Blair blinked once - twice.
''Hello,'' She simply said - her tone sickly saccharine - cocking her head. ''I'm Blair, Chuck's girlfriend.''
The brunette laughed, as one laughs at the funny joke one hears for the first time and Chuck imperceptibly shook his head. Blair joined in the laughter, a musical sound that sounded disoriented even after brunette's snicker abruptly died out and next sound that was to be heard was a big splash - and screaming - horrified high-pitched screaming.
Red wine stained the expensive white dress, soaking the fabric and painting it with Blair's favorite color.
''Nice to meet you,'' She spat and the girl ran away, cowering under stares of the guests, haunted by snickers of bold onlookers and almost barbaric disgrace she just suffered.
Chuck looked at the harmless brunette - like a dog who barks but never bites - tripping over heels and disappearing out of the Tropic restaurant.
''That was ages ago,'' He explained as Blair set the empty glass down on the table with unnecessary force.
''If you'll excuse me,'' She said with unnaturally sweet voice and the tone annoyed him because he knew this didn't go by as a passing wind over Elise Island. He knew it was something to to raise the waves and murk the waters. ''I have to visit the ladies room.''
''Blair,'' Her name was like a plead on his lips and he followed her, would follow her all the way to the end of the world and he would jump from the edge of the Earth if she did too. Not once did she pause, not once did she trip. Her walk was elegant and graceful and whirlwind of chaos.
''Ladies,'' Chuck ordered once he followed her into the restroom. Women and girls squeaked, not at the male figure in women's room, they squeaked at Chuck Bass - The Heir - being in the same room with them, talking to them. ''A moment with my girlfriend, please.''
They glanced at Blair and scurried away, whispering amongst themselves. He locked the doors after them, putting the key in his breast-pocket. Blair paced in front of the line of the sinks, her image in mirrors all pursed lips and hands on hips. ''I'm an idiot,'' She snapped, her steps angry and sharp.
''Blair-'' He tried to reach for her elbow, but she shook him away and resumed the hysterical pacing.
''Don't touch me,'' She seethed, glaring at him. ''Don't you fuckin' touch me, Bass. I forget. Every time, I forget!''
''Forget what?'' He stoically asked, leaning down on the sink and warily watching her.
''I forget the army of the sluts you left in your wake,'' Blair grit through her teeth, stopping in tracks and turning to face him. ''I forget the laughing at my face when someone mentions I'm your girlfriend! I forget the dozens - no, hundreds - girls that slept in your bed before me! I hate that they drool over you as we walk practically anywhere. I get this sick feeling in my guts and it's like a disease that I can't get rid of! It makes me angry, it makes me furious and I -''
''You're wrong,'' He interrupted her rant, crossing his arms and staring at the floor with stone hard eyes.
''About what exactly?'' She breathed out, somehow glad for his opposition because she so badly wanted him to say that she was delusional, even if he lied.
''You're wrong,'' Chuck firmly said, looking up at her with serious eyes. ''There were hardly hundreds. Maybe six or seven dozens.''
She stared at him - long and hard - her face tinged with red, the bloody bordeaux color, color of rage and her palm struck towards his face. Before it could land on his cheek, Chuck seized her hand and roughly pulled her towards him, trapping her body between his broad frame and black porcelain edge of the sink.
''Let me go,'' She ordered infuriated - hating him - hating his touch, his scent, the way he fit against her. She fought, trying to wriggle out of his firm grip. ''You motherchucker!''
''Mmmm,'' He provocatively moaned into her ear, pressing himself into her backside and surprisingly enough - she found him hard. The revelation excited her and she cursed herself for it. His fingers played with hem of her skirts, brushing her thighs and evoking a series of uncontrollable shivers. ''I love it when you talk dirty to me, Blair.''
''You revolt me,'' She spat half-heartedly, finding her body responding to his touch - his wicked touch over her sensitive skin - as the other hand held her caged, unable to move. Cold surface of the sink pressed into the searingly hot skin of her thighs and she remembered last night with disturbing vividness. Her insides clenched, craving more - more of him.
Impatient and slowly losing control, he grabbed her hair and turned her head towards him. There was nowhere to look, but deep into his eyes, dark and lusty. He didn't kiss her. His lips merely hovered above hers, teasing, building up the anticipation.
''It was just you,'' Chuck whispered softly, brushing his mouth against hers, light as a feather.
''What?'' She breathed out, feeling her knees tremble with the desire and heat.
''Nobody slept in my bed,'' He agonizingly slowly hitched up her skirt and rubbed his palm over her panties. She could feel herself dripping wet, responding to his delicious touch. ''Nobody except you.''
With those words everything evaporated, disappeared somewhere unknown and unreachable - somewhere trivial and unimportant. Nothing before them mattered and nothing after came to exist just yet - it was just them - here and now and his touch in her center and her arching of the back.
''Fuck me,'' she pleaded urgently, rubbing her hand against him. ''Now.''
He smiled, that wicked self-satisfied smirk and she groaned as he bended her over the lavatory, holding her down with his forearm.
The sound of the zipper, the noise of wrapper being torn open, and spitting the piece from between his teeth; that was the music that made her knees buckle and she bit her lip, waiting for him to fill her up. Chuck put the condom on and impatiently ripped the white lacy panties with one swift motion as the other hand still held her pinned down. He entered her from behind and Blair cried out in pain - still sore and tight.
His thrust hurt just like the first one and she shut her eyes, thinking about that sweet ending as he painfully pumped into her, filling her to the brim. It was fast, it was urgent and someone was pounding on the doors, someone wanted in, but they didn't care, they didn't care about anyone but them.
Chuck pulled on her hair and had her flush against him, ''Look,'' he grunted, holding her jaw as he roughly thrust into her with swiftness and her breasts spilled over her bra, her nipples hard under his assault. ''Look at us.''
She yelped as the heat built up, almost reaching it's peak and his fingers curled around her chin, forcing to see scene in the mirror. A feral animal, a tigress trapped in sweetest of the cages. They were untamed, they were raw, they were stripped bare of the fears and anxieties, a dance of desire and urges.
With wild, mesmerizing eyes, she saw herself driven to the edge and Chuck pounding into her, teetering her off balance and she screamed into his hand, reaching the climax and falling apart once again. It was different from last night, this was violent and swift, and fueled by need and anger. Pleasant, tingling shivers spread through her body, a wave of ecstasy and she went limp after it was over, leaning over the sink, swaying with the forceful momentum - back and forth - until Chuck reached his own end.
He piled on top of her and their breaths clouded the mirror as they took a moment to descend from the highest of the highs. The knocking on the doors seemed to cease and Chuck pulled out of her.
''Here,'' He handed her the paper towels.
''Thanks.'' She wiped the area around her inner thighs and tried to fix her attire. Blair took the underwear from the floor and threw it in trash. ''You've ruined my panties.''
''Good,'' Chuck smirked as he took off the condom. ''You don't need them anyway.''
He approached her, his cheeks still flushed and planted a kiss on her forehead. ''I want to give you something.''
''New Agent Provocateur set?'' She suggested, straightening her hair that turned into a real mess.
''It can be arranged,'' he bit his bottom lip, getting a box out of the pocket. ''It's something I wanted to give you last night, but you ended up distracting me and completely thwarting my plans.''
''How despicable of me. Are you going to punish me?''
Chuck glanced up at her and spanked her. ''You're doing it again.''
Blair blushed, surprised at how much she liked the slap. Deep down, she wanted more and harder.
Having her quiet, he produced a small box out of the pocket. ''It's nothing grand. I just wanted you to have something of mine.''
Dazed and confused, Blair slowly opened the black velvet box. Sitting on the cushion was a silver ruby ring. It was beautiful and simple. It was perfect. It was very - her.
''This...'' She gulped, looking at the shiny ruby diamond and back at her boyfriend. Her eyebrows knotted.
''Relax,'' He put his hands on her waist. ''It's not like I'm proposing you. Think of this as a sign of an affection.''
''I can't take it,'' She shook her head, feeling like she was cheating on him somehow, and offered him back the box with resolute eyes. ''Besides, it's your birthday in this weekend. I should be the one buying you presents.''
''You have to take it,'' He insisted, taking hold of the box. Chuck took the ring and put it on her ring finger. ''I already have everything I wished for. If you buy me anything for my birthday, I'll just buy out whole Tiffany's and have them deliver everything at your doorstep.''
He turned around, ignoring her scowl and unlocked the doors.
''If I wanted to christen that restroom,'' Bart commented dryly as he met them at the bar. ''I would have called a priest.''
Blair managed to pretend not to hear anything, looking around with newly-found interest at the chandelier. Chuck simply put his arm around her shoulder and steered her towards the exit.
''Good to see you too,'' He added with an equal tone, walking out. ''Thanks for the lunch.''
Blair was on the seventh cloud when Chuck dropped her off home. She fingered the ring, getting used to the strange sense of metal on her pale slender finger. She whistled a merry tune and pocketed it just as she passed Gerogina in the lobby.
The girl gave her evil eye and sneered, taking the elevator to her apartment. Blair ignored her and climbed down the stairs that led to her apartment. Her merry tune died out as she opened the doors and saw Evelyn ex Bass sitting on her small shabby couch, next to her own mother.
Somehow, Evelyn didn't look surprised by the poor interior. She didn't stare at the patched up quilt or dusty floor or pipes randomly peeking out, sending out strange loud noise that used to scare Blair when she was a child. Her eyes didn't roam over the ancient TV or funky smell coming from the kitchen. Her face was impassive.
''Close the door, pumpkin,'' Said mother from her spot on the sofa. ''Come and sit with us.''
Everything about the scene seemed wrong, ridiculous. Evelyn's perfectly manicured nails seemed absurd against her mother's bitten ones. Her perfectly styled hair stood aghast against the bleached walls and holey curtains. There was something in the way that she sat on that couch, something in her narrowed eyes that Blair realized it was game over.
Blair stiffly sat down on a sofa opposite of them, the old hinges creaking under her weight. She eyed the hole in mother's old slippers and socked toe peeking out of it. She saw it all with sharp gaze, a gaze of a stranger, a gaze of Evelyn.
''Your friend's mom brought the book you forgot.'' Her mother smiled kindly, the only honest grimace in the stuffy room and she got up, fetching the cleaning products from the table. ''I have to go and work. Thank you for your trouble.''
Blair saw Evelyn's eye twitch, the only movement under her cool facade.
''Blair, tea is ready so please serve this kind lady.''
Blair sat frozen even as her mom left the room and she stared at the floor, unable to lift her head.
''I have something that belongs to you,'' Spoke Evelyn, but the sound was grotesquely calm, cool, yet the fire of her words burned under the edges of the font. ''That's why I came... here. To return something of yours and I'm not talking about the book.''
Blair heard the opening of the purse, shuffling of the paper and the letter dropped into her lap. It was there, in her hands. It had never been lost. With trembling fingers, she picked it up and stared at it, avoiding Evelyn's eyes, eyes of a person she admired - eyes of the person she loved - because her eyes matched Chuck's.
She tried to stammer something, anything to break the choking silence and a pair of narrowed eyes that burned into her head. She was painfully aware of the fact that Chuck's mother knew words of the letter and her guarded secrets. Apparently, they were secrets no more. All that was left now was ashes of the burning flames and terrible haunting truth of her lies.
''You,'' Evelyn spat, a sound unsuitable to her graceful face and frame, but it was there - coming out of her rouged lips. ''Do you think this is all a game?! You will stop making a fool of my son! I will not allow it!''
Blair buried her head in hands, ''That was not - I did not -''
''I read every single line of that letter!'' Evelyn burst, rising from the couch and towering over her. ''I know it by heart! How could you do it to my son?''
''I didn't -'' She sniffled, fighting the overwhelming sense that Chuck's mother was right and the ominous feeling it followed after. ''I didn't think we'd end up falling in love. I didn't think we'd let each other into our own lives - and enjoy it.''
Because before him, she didn't believe in love. Happy-ever-after existed only in fairy tales and there were no princes charming. Her daily life was cruel and bitter, until she met him. Chuck Bass somehow single-handedly managed to knock her world down and all stereotypes she developed in childhood.
''You enjoyed it,'' Evelyn accused, her eyes flashing lightnings. ''While my son led the life of lies, you enjoyed it. Are you aware of what you've done?''
Doors slammed somewhere on the ground floor, shaking the small windows that showed feet of bustling people on the street. Kettle roared - signaling the water was boiling. Nobody moved a muscle.
''What kind of a person are you?'' Seethed Chuck's mother in disgust, crouching down and forcing Blair's hands away to look her in the eyes. ''What are you doing to my son?!''
''I've trusted you. I've trusted you with my son. How could you fool us like this?''
''I'm sorry. For everything.'' Blair wiped tears from her cheek and dug her nails in her forearms. The pain offered a small relief from the tsunami of guilt and shame that overwhelmed her. ''I'm sorry for not telling Chuck the truth.''
''Oh, but you will tell him,'' Evelyn nodded her head like a madman, slamming her palm on the table. ''You'll tell him everything!''
''But - but - what if I lose him?'' Blair whimpered, biting her lip so hard it bled. ''I'll lose him. I'll lose him. Please don't make me lose him.''
''Lose?'' Evelyn laughed humorlessly, the noise dripping from her lips like a poison. ''You never even had my son. Chuck doesn't know you.'' Her voice raised, turning malicious, turning sorrowful, turning crazy. ''He never even met you. Chuck fell in love with a girl whom he trusted.''
''You're not that girl, Blair,'' She said with finality and stood up, brushing invisible specks from her dress. ''I won't let you lie to him anymore.''
With that, Blair's eyes widened, like a deer caught in a flash of headlight and her fingers painfully grasped Evelyn's hand. ''Please,'' she exclaimed with frantic, yet strangely strong voice. She gulped heavily. ''Chuck has to hear it from me.''
Evelyn searched her face, eyes, her clothes, the room she called home.
''Please.''
She recoiled, pulling her hand back and inhaled deeply. ''When?''
Blair seemed to ponder this. She sniffled again, her lower lip trembling, ''Look, I've struggled with myself. From first lie I said to the very last one. And now...'' She blinked hard, her eyes going dark and decisive, ''I'll fight for us even against Chuck himself.''
Evelyn looked at this girl, this strange girl in small crooked room and for briefest of the moments, she admired her. But the disappointment and disgust couldn't be overcome. Chuck's mother looked at her with her son's eyes and Blair didn't cower this time. She mustered all the courage and love she felt for Chuck and pleaded with his mother. ''Please, let me fight. Just give me few days.''
''I give you until day after Chuck's birthday.'' With that she gracefully rose and walked out of Blair's home, never looking back. She didn't give those few days for Blair's sake, she gave them for the sake of her son and his shot at happiness that Evelyn once had - long time ago.