Thanks everyone for reading and for the reviews! Let's not get used to this, but I'm really hoping to be able to update everyday if I can.
On with the show.
Day Two
Waking up was a little harder that day than it was most days. Usually, she would be up before the sun rose, but today, she woke up long after it had - the gentle rays streaming through the curtain, and she had only woken up because of the incessant buzzing of her phone which she'd left at the nightstand.
She had been unable to sleep last night from the shock and anxiety, and so she had called her best friend, Phyllis, to just talk. Albeit the late hour, Phyllis had picked up and talked to her, even going as far as offering to come pick her up and let her stay the night in their house. Sometime during their lengthy conversation, her husband Joseph had woken up, and after being informed of Cora's predicament, had been eager and willing to come pick her up.
She had vehemently refused them, telling them it was just a shock and she was fine, nothing was wrong with her, and that she just needed to talk because she was feeling a little bit anxious. After another round of assurance, she'd bid Phyllis goodbye. She'd gone to the land of slumber soon after - and it was already sometime after 2 in the morning.
It was no surprise to her that she'd woken up a bit late, and a quick check to her phone told her it was already 9 am, when she usually woke up around 6 am to be ready for work which started at eight. What was surprising was the barrage of missed calls and messages that she received from her daughters.
Phyllis must have told them, she thought as she scrolled through her messages.
"Mum," one message said, coming from her youngest daughter. "Please pick up."
"I heard from Auntie Phyl, are you okay mum? Why didn't you call me right away?" said her other daughter, followed by a string of "Mum' and a bunch of emojis.
"Do you need me to go there?" asked her youngest, and Cora was touched although she thought it was completely unnecessary.
She breathed in and began typing, "Hello my darlings, I'm sorry for not being able to catch your messages. I was fast asleep and just woke up. I am fine, really, no need for urgent visits. A kind man saved me last night so I am not injured. I think I will just stay at home for today and the rest of the weekend."
She hit send and sighed, surprised when barely a few seconds later, her phone dinged, twice and in quick succession. Her daughters responded, rather quickly, to assure that they truly were not needed. While Cora would have appreciated a visit, she didn't want them to upend their lives just for her when it was simply inconsequential and she wasn't truly hurt. She would much rather that they visit her at a later date when they both can stay a bit longer - maybe in Thanksgiving (because you can take a woman out of New York, but you cannot take New York out of the woman), or some other longer weekend.
"I'm truly okay. No need to come here. Save those leaves for when you can come for a long weekend. Love you both," she replied, and then smiled when the quick response came again telling her they loved her back and they'll see her soon.
Her relationship with her daughters had always been rocky, but more or less loving. No one ever told her raising daughters was difficult, and the disagreements were normal between them, because she raised her daughters to be headstrong and confident, able to voice their own opinions and stand up for themselves. She did not regret allowing them to speak up when they were uncomfortable without shoving down their throat that their family deserved more respect above else even if their family members made them feel bad. She had enough of that with her own mother - who had been one of the first ones to tell her I told you so when she and her husband had divorced. Mother never really liked him. So she'd tried to raise her daughters in a different way she was raised. It made a good recipe for many a disagreement between her and her daughters, and their relationship was a little bit volatile but deeply loving.
It had been dented severely by her divorce, mostly because they didn't understand why, and at first she was loathe to tell them. Despite not being really close to their father, the girls had grown up with a set of parents and a good home, and the upheaval of which had been disorienting for them. When she'd finally opened up to them about the state of her marriage to their father and his almost chronic infidelity, her youngest had been the first to thaw, followed by her oldest, and eventually, they both had understood and stood by her. After all, their father was absent for most of their life anyway, and they were both just holding on to the last vestiges of normalcy and childhood that was left for them to afford.
They knew in the end, that their father made their mother miserable, and she was right to divorce him. They had been encouraging her to go out and find love, to let herself be loved, truly, but she could only tell them that they were enough. She didn't want to risk her heart again. She had loved the same man for almost 30 years and he'd broken her heart, there really was no way she was going to let herself be burned like that again.
She breathed deep and long before exhaling and letting all the tension fade away. Memories of her ex-husband were never really pleasant, but it was a past that she had, a past that she owned, and a past that she had learned from. Now, it was moving forward and living again.
Speaking of moving forward…
She needed to get a move on if she wanted to be on time for her lunch meeting with Robert. A smile unconsciously made its way to her face, when the name popped into her head. Her knight in shining armor, with the blue eyes and the soft smile.
She hadn't felt as fluttery as this with a man for a long time. Hell, the last time had been before she even married her husband, and that should have been a sign, amongst many others, that she should not have married that moron, but oh well. Hindsight is 20/20.
Robert Crawley, though, was different. It was probably the fact that he saved her life that made her feel like this. Of course, it would be remiss of her to say that he wasn't attractive, because he was. Despite being in his late forties like her, he was appealing and charming. He seemed genuine and had been kind, making sure she was comfortable and that she was not hurt last night. Indeed, in her mind, she'd made him up to be some kind of a hero, but it wasn't that much of a jump when he literally saved her life.
She should really stop thinking about it and him, after all, they probably would not cross paths again after this lunch they're about to have together. She'd thank him properly, and they'd move on to their separate lives, and then he would be just a distant but wonderful memory to her.
The thought was not something she wanted to ponder on for long, so she gathered herself and walked down the stairs to grab some light breakfast before she showered and dressed and got ready to meet Robert for lunch.
. . . .
It was about ten minutes before twelve when she got to the pub. She didn't want to seem eager, although she was as giddy as a school girl. She didn't know what she was feeling, and she didn't feel like asking herself about it either - afraid of the answer. She settled for hero worship, and that did make sense to her, and that was safe.
She pushed on the doors and stepped in quickly, closing them behind her to avoid the cold from sweeping in. Her eyes roamed, and immediately, she spotted the man she will be meeting.
Robert.
He looked good in his white button up shirt and black slacks. Last night, even in a daze, she had taken note of his pale green shirt and blue jeans that fit him well. He dressed impeccably, something she truly appreciated. Nervously, she ran her palms down her own clothes. She went for casual today, not wanting him to think she was overdoing this, even if she had spent longer than usual standing in her closet, wondering what to wear and how to look like she was trying but not too hard.
In the end, she'd settled with a pale yellow wrap shirt and a pair of blue jeans and her favorite black boots donning her feet. She wore her cozy but structured black coat to pull it all together and left her hair down. She also applied her makeup lightly, still maintaining the casual look. She was pleased with her appearance, all in all.
He turned towards the door and she smiled, waving at him as she walked her way towards where he was sitting. She tried to still her beating heart. After all, this was just a platonic lunch between the knight in shining armor and the damsel in distress. This was no movie. This was not a romcom. She was not going to fall in love with him, nor he with her.
"Hello," she said as he stood. He was a gentleman through and through, and when she offered her hand to him, he lifted it to his mouth and placed a soft kiss on her skin. He also pulled her chair for her and waited for her to sit before he took a seat himself.
Even if she didn't believe herself truly incapable of loving anymore after that trauma with her ex, she still swooned.
He gave her a sweet smile as he sat on his chair. "Are you feeling better?"
I am now I'm with you, she wanted to say, but that was too cheesy, and it sounded like a pickup line. So she settled with, "Yes, so much better. I had a good night's sleep. I have never woken up this late since I had children." She laughed, expecting him to do so, too - after all, parental jokes were always funny to those who suffered it - but he just smiled, an odd look settling in his eyes.
"I'm glad you're feeling better," he told her sincerely. He was about to say more to her, it seemed, when the waitress walked over to them with a cheerful smile.
"Hello," the waitress - Ivy, her name tag said - greeted them, before handing them both menus.
She perused the menu, keen on something decadent for today. Usually, she watched her diet like a hawk, especially when she was married to the moron she called her ex-husband, but in the past few years, she'd started to maintain a healthier relationship with food.
"I would like some grilled chicken and caesar salad," she said, then she smiled. "Also, some onion rings and diet coke."
Ivy nodded and wrote it down her pad, the scratching of her pen against the paper the only sound that was heard.
"I would like some burger and chips, regular coke," Robert said simply, before closing the menu and handing it to the waitress.
Ivy scribbled his order, too, before he accepted the menu from him and taking hers as well. She smiled at them again. "Anything else?"
They both shook their head no, and then Ivy was gone after telling them it will only be a few minutes.
"Thank you again for saving me," Cora told Robert gently as she looked at him. "I can never thank you enough."
"It was my pleasure, I assure you," he swore, his eyes clear and sincere. "I'm glad you're feeling well."
Ivy came back to their table for a bit to serve them their drinks but had left as quickly as she had come.
"I was more shocked than anything else," she told him. He nodded, and then they fell silent again. It wasn't that it was awkward - okay, yes, it kind of was - but she also knew that it's only because they barely knew each other. At all. She wanted to change that a bit. "So, do you live around here?"
His eyes were mysterious over the rim of his glass. He took a sip and placed it back on the table. "Around," he replied without really admitting anything. "Do you work around here?"
She shook her head. "Near enough," she said. "I work at Levinson and Hughes, near Belgravia."
"You're a lawyer?" he asked with interest. "You're Elsie's partner?"
"You know Elsie?" she asked, surprised. It seemed like such a small world.
He nodded. "I work with her husband over at Downton Enterprises." He shrugged. "I've seen her a couple of times with Charles, in our company parties. It's actually a wonder I haven't seen you around. I usually go to their house parties. Did you never attend?"
She sighed, memories of isolation haunting her. "Rarely," she admitted. "Before, it was because of my ex-husband. The more recent ones I've been present, but not a lot and not for long. I think that part of me that hadn't been one for parties will always just be me."
It wasn't true, not entirely. She used to loved parties, loved to host them, but after her husband had put her down one too many times (not out of her own shortcomings, but merely because he was cheating on her with anyone in a skirt, and finding more and more ways and reasons to pick on her), she'd started to have anxiety about social gatherings. She avoided them like a plague. It was only when she'd divorced him that she started being more free. It had taken the combined powers of Elsie and Phyllis for her to even make it to one party.
She'd been getting better. She'd gone to a therapist and started to rebuild herself, looking for the parts of herself she lost on the way.
"You alright?" he asked, waking her from her reverie. She had been thinking a little too deep.
She nodded. "Yes, I'm okay," she said with a smile. "There are certain things…."
"Bad memories?" he supplied. It wasn't much of a question. She nodded. "I get it. It's hard. Sometimes you feel as though you've moved on, and perhaps you have, but the memories...sometimes they can keep you up at night."
She nodded. It was exactly like that. She breathed in and breathed out. "Do you have children?" she asked. Belatedly, she realized that she should not have. It wasn't something she should ask unless they offered the information themselves, she knew. Some people struggled with that for a long time, if not all their lives, and it's not polite.
Before she could apologize, he was already speaking. "No children," he told her. "No wife, either," he added with a sad little chuckle. He might have been asked the same thing a lot. "Never had either."
She nodded, biting down on her lip. She was so curious. She wanted to ask more. She really tried to stop herself from doing so. Her mouth, though, worked faster than her brain, and "What happened?" were out of her lips before she could stop them.
What was wrong with her?
He shook his head. "It wasn't meant to be," was his ominous reply. That could mean a lot of things. "I lost my chance to a family - a wife and kids - although I suppose I never really had it, and I just never tried again."
That was even more puzzling.
She wanted to ask more, know more about him. She dared not though, and she had to bite down on her tongue to stop herself from letting her foot land in her mouth again.
"You have kids, right?" he asked, and she was grateful. She can talk about herself, which sounded conceited yes, but at least she wouldn't be asking stupid questions that made the atmosphere volatile.
"Yes, two," she answered. A smile formed on her lips as she was reminded of her two beauties. "Daughters both of them, and they're all grown up. My oldest is a marketing executive, and my youngest is in med school." There was a proud tinge to her voice that even she can hear. She was truly proud of her children and how far they've already reached despite their tender age.
He smiled. "They're successful like their mother," he commented softly.
Ivy came then, their food in a tray she balanced with one hand. She placed their orders in front of them and told them to enjoy before she was gone again.
"How about your husband?" he asked her suddenly, making her almost choke as she took a sip of her diet coke. His eyes widened. "Christ, sorry Cora, I'm sorry…"
She waved her hand and coughed. "Sorry, no it's fine" she said. "I was just surprised." She looked away and fiddled with the napkin on her lap. She sighed. "He's the bad memory."
Understanding dawned on Robert. "I apologize. I know it was uncouth of me to ask. Not very British of me, was it?" He chuckled, making her chuckle too. "You don't have to tell me." He was genuine.
Cora found herself realizing that she did, indeed, want to tell him. She didn't know why. She barely knew him and she had spent so much time trying not to talk about her ex. The only time she even talked about it to her best friends was when she was pissed drunk.
She was incredibly sober at that very moment.
"No," she said softly. "I want to." She did. She watched as Robert popped a chip inside his mouth, and upon hearing her words he paused, and he looked at her seriously. His gaze was warm and welcoming. "I met him when I moved here in London. I was a fresh graduate from Vassar. I graduated early, so I thought I could take my Masters degree here - Business Administration - to help with my Dad's company. I didn't want to, really, but I had a duty to my family. So I was shipped off here, and I was alone and lonely and knew no one save for my roommate, who is now my best friend. Then my ex husband came along, and he was so charming and attentive and he made me feel like I mattered, that the choices I made were important. He supported me when I said I was more interested in law than I was in business. I argued long and hard about it with my parents, but he was there, supporting me, telling me I can make it. I was all so good and happy. I really thought we were in love. In a way, I think we were. We were married, despite my mother's protestations and my father's misgivings. We had a few blissful years together - I was so happy, sure as I was that my mother was wrong. But you know, sometimes, life just doesn't want you to be truly happy. My father had died when my oldest was 12 and my youngest was 10. I was so grief-stricken I couldn't function."
Tears threatened to spill as they always did when she spoke of her father. Suddenly, she felt a warm hand take hers, and she looked at him. He was looking at her - not with pity or consternation - but just warmth, understanding. She felt comforted, accepted - by this handsome stranger.
"It's alright," he told her softly.
She nodded. "It was a long time ago, over a decade now. I'm okay, I've accepted it and moved on, but I still miss my father everyday. At the time, I carried so much guilt because I knew my father wanted me to take over the company for him but I didn't want that. I went to law instead. I lived far away from them, built my family here, thousands and thousands of miles away. My ex husband couldn't understand that. He grew up with parents who weren't exactly warm. His parents believed that parenting was spending two hours a day max with their children and then shuttling them right to the nanny. He wasn't close to his parents so he didn't understand my closeness to mine, didn't understand the concept at all and why I was as desolate as I was. He wasn't exactly supportive of my grief and told me that people died everyday, we needed to cope and not mope all day. It was then that I realized that he wasn't the same man I loved, he was different. I started to ask myself if I still knew the man I was married too. He was also cheating on me and constantly putting me down, made me want to be a different person entirely, made me feel like I was not enough, made me feel like isolating myself. I woke up everyday, hoping things would change. I was foolish." She swallowed the tears that she felt were coming again. "So you know, as I said, he moved on when I didn't even know. He slept with any woman who was willing. I found out and forgave him at first, hoping he wouldn't do it again - for our children. I didn't want them to grow up without a complete set of parents, didn't want them to resent me just because I didn't try hard enough. But it just continued on, until years later, when I found out that he'd been living with one of his mistresses, and I was so fed up. My children were adults and I no longer felt like I had to put up with him and his constant cheating. So I slapped him with divorce papers and sent him packing. I haven't looked back since."
"How about your daughters? Do they know about him and what he did to you? Are they...do they have a relationship with him?"
She shook her head. "He's not exactly the best dad," she admitted with a soft, wet sigh. "He wanted to parent the same way his parents did, believing that it was the right way, so he didn't fully grasp the idea of how to actually be a father. He's not close to either of our daughters even now - sometimes I feel that he's relieved to be rid of them. He sent them to prestigious universities, which to him was enough parenting and that should give him father of the year award every year." She rolled her eyes at that. "My best friends always say he's the devil incarnate."
Why she told this stranger the story of her sad life, she would never really know.
"You're such a strong woman, Cora," he said, admiration coloring his voice and clear in his eyes. She blushed. She didn't think she was, but it was good to hear. "No really," he insisted, as if he heard her thoughts. "You're very strong - strong to have stayed and tried to make it work for your children, and strong to walk away when you knew it was not going to. It might have taken you longer, but you are strong."
"Thank you," she said with a sigh. "I suppose we should eat now while this is still warm. I've talked your ear enough."
"Never," he said with a shake of his head and a chuckle. "But you are right, we should eat."
They did, and Cora felt lighter than usual.
It really felt good to talk to someone about her life, no matter how miserable it was. She still didn't know what compelled her to talk about it to a stranger, but she was glad for an open ear. And when he looked at her as if she was Wonder Woman, as if she carried the weight of the world so effortlessly, she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach.
And that she did not really want to question.
How was that? Let me know!