"You can convince yourself of anything
If you wish both hard and long
And I believed that life was wonderful
Right up to the moment when love went wrong"
--Elvis Costello, Fallen
It was all over the society page, with an awful headline: NILES CRANE'S PASSION BRINGS DOWNFALL. The article detailed the incident: How Maris was driven to Schenkman by Niles' feelings for Daphne; the divorce; how everyone had found out about the whole fiasco; and a few fabricated comments from the "people invovled".
Niles himself had been quoted as saying: "I'm just glad all of this crap is over." Which, of course, was not true. Firstly, because he wasn't happy that this had ended before he had a chance to fix it, and secondly because he would never use the word "crap" in front of people who could quote him.
But that wasn't the worst of it. What the people of the society page were saying about poor Daphne -- who had little more to do with this than any of the newspaper's editors -- the things they were insinuating, the phrases they casually wrote off as true rather than offensive, were absolutely apalling. For heaven's sake, the woman couldn't even go shopping at any of Frasier's stores without putting on some outlandish disguise!
Niles sighed, staring down at the black ink on the grayish page, the headline branded on his eyelids. He desperately wished he could afford a piano to crawl under.
This thing, this entire monstrosity was his fault. If he hadn't been married, if he hadn't been so ready and willing to love outside of Maris, if he hadn't told Frasier... Maybe, if he hadn't been determined to make his union last past it's expiration date, he would have been rid of his ridiculous burden much sooner. Maybe he and Daphne would be together and living in a tasteful apartment, rather than him sitting alone in a dreadful one with bloodstains on the carpet and holes through the walls.
But he'd never know, would he? And all because he had been so... Stupid? Lust-driven? No.
Weak.
Bending to Maris's will as though she were a goddess. He now knew why she had married him: it wasn't an act of love and devotion for her. It was being bonded to a slave.
I feel like such a fool, he thought to himself, sighing. His surroundings didn't help to alleviate the frustration, either. He felt this staggering need to be with his family, who could support him and hopefully comfort him. Of course, he knew who else would be there, no doubt ducking when she walked by windows and hiding behind the door when she answered it.
Then again, she might be out shopping. Or, if she was home, she might want to talk to him.
Why should she want to talk to me? Even a greeting between us has become awkward and intense. Sometimes I swear I can hear the sound of her heart pounding in her chest I'm so overstrung...
But there's still a chance she might be out shopping...