Chapter 3: The Chain

And if you don't love me now, you will never love me again

I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain

-Fleetwood Mac

Sheepishly, Nick and June opened the bedroom door. June headed straight to the small bathroom, leaving Nick unguarded. No matter. His old ally from the Waterford household was standing in the middle of the living room, smiling at him. "Jesus!" he exclaimed in surprise.

"No, wrong again," she quipped. She pointed at her chest. "Rita."

He came in for a hug. Although he had never actually touched her before, it felt natural now. "It's so good to see you."

"You too." Rita stepped back to scrutinize him. "You look thin. Don't you have a Martha to feed you?"

"Yeah, but she can't compare to you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Nick was aware of Luke standing against the wall, glaring wordlessly at him. Nick didn't look at the other man, waiting instead for June to take the lead. She appeared soon enough.

"Hi, guys," June said to Luke and Rita, as nonchalantly as possible. "Thanks for coming to get me."

Luke said nothing to that. He was still possessively clutching Nichole, who was wriggling in his arms. "Down," she demanded. He obliged. At least, Luke thought, she wanted her mother…not the man near Rita. June knelt down and held her arms open, and the toddler ran into them. "Mommy," Nichole said, relieved. It had only been two days, but it felt much longer to the 21 month-old. She pressed her little nose against her mother's neck, breathed her in.

"Hey, sweetie. I missed you so very much. Did you have a fun time with Rita while I was gone?" Nichole nodded earnestly. Rita had definitely been fun; they'd spent every waking minute of yesterday playing or walking around the zoo. June added softly, "Can you say hello to your first daddy?"

Nichole turned around to regard the man she recognized from the framed picture in her bedroom. He looked the same as in the photograph, she decided, except without the tie. "Hi, 'irst daddy."

An uninhibited grin, so unlike him, lit up Nick's face as he bent down to her level. He spoke very gently. "Hi there, Nichole. D'you remember me?"

She smiled, turned around, then scampered outside. Back to the car.

"Guess not," Luke said drily.

June stood back up. "She's still a little nervous around—" She stopped before saying 'strangers,' instead finishing with "new situations." It would have broken Nick's heart to be thought of as a stranger to his daughter.

Presently, Nichole returned to the cabin, holding the pink-clad doll he had once brought her. She held it up for her father to see, then pressed Dolly against his cheek, kissing him with the toy…just as he had done when he gave it to her at the abandoned school months ago. Nick swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded. "You remember that day, huh?"

She nodded, staring at him with almond eyes so much like his own, just in blue. "Cold," she commented succinctly.

"Yeah, it was really cold then. You were in a snowsuit and a hat. But it's nice and warm now." Talking about the weather, really? Nick thought. But I guess small talk has to start somewhere.

Rita sat on the floor with them to help her friend out. She handed Nick a large paper bag from Walmart. "We stopped on the way to get her a present for the car ride home. Maybe you could give it to her."

He peeked in the bag. "Huh, this looks interesting." Nichole's dark eyebrows went up in curiosity. He reached a hand into the bag as dramatically as possible, and showed her just the head of a stuffed giraffe before lowering it back out of view. "What could that be?" he asked her.

"Affe?" she asked him.

"Yes, I think it might be a giraffe." He brought the toy out of the bag again, gave it to his daughter. "It's pretty big. What do you think?" She grinned at him, petted the stuffy.

"We went to the zoo yesterday," Rita explained, "and the giraffes were definitely her favorite."

June caught herself staring and smiling at Nick's and Holly's bittersweet third-ever attempt at bonding, until remembering she had another matter to attend to. She came over to the brooding man still pressed against the wall.

Luke was about ready to burst into tears of either rage or frustration. He had bought Nichole that giraffe today…because he knew her tastes, unlike that poser trying to act like a father. That toy was supposed to be his gift to her, an apology for leaving her alone overnight and almost getting her parents killed with their stupid foray into Gilead. Luke knew it was petty, to be jealous of a stuffed animal when he and the little girl shared so many moments and Nick so few. Luke's anger about the giraffe was, however, preferable to the other thought currently obsessing him: the image of June, smiling and naked, open in every sense possible, wrapped around another man. He hadn't seen her like that since they lived in Boston, a lifetime ago. He had assumed that the former handmaid was now incapable of that sort of passionate abandon.

Obviously, Luke was wrong. She just didn't love him that way.

June approached him gingerly. "You wanna go outside and talk?"

"No, I don't." Ice cold. "I don't know what you'd want me to say, June. Maybe, uh, I understand, I forgive you, and it's okay? No. I don't, I don't, and it's not."

She pressed her lips together, nodded. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You don't look sorry," he observed, his coldness morphing into anger. "You look…glowing."

"I'm sorry you're hurt," she clarified. Not sorry for being with Nick.

Luke looked away from her. Tried to avoid looking at the man on the floor with Nichole. Stared at the now-closed door to the bedroom. "It's not like I didn't know," he mused. "You sent me that cassette, that goddamned tape. You said you'd fallen in love, that you'd moved on and wanted me to do the same. I listened to the tape over and over, but just didn't hear you. I thought I owed you love and loyalty, no matter what, 'no matter who you turned out to be,' right? Because, like, you were definitely sending me some mixed messages. You told me to move on…at the same time you were sending your little love child to Toronto, expecting me to take care of her. And you know what, I did. There aren't a whole lot of men who'd raise the baby of his wife and another guy, but I did."

Nick finally broke his silence. "And you've done a fantastic job of it, thank you."

For the hundredth time this hour, Luke seriously considered punching him. "Aw, don't even talk to me, man. You don't need to say anything to me."

Nick stayed on the ground with his daughter, hoping that the physical disparity would make Luke feel at least a tiny bit better. Superior. He looked at Nichole, but addressed the man above him. "You're a great dad," he said softly but genuinely.

"Shut up. Just fuck off." Luke usually tried not to swear in front of his daughter, but he gave up now. "You just…you show up in your baby's life once every six months, spend a few minutes with her, fuck her mother, and you call that fatherhood? You don't even know Nichole, and she sure as hell don't know you. You don't know anything about her, so why don't you just go back to that swamp you came from and leave my wife and my daughter alone?" He was pleased to see Nick blink hard at his use of "my" in reference to Nichole.

"You think I want to be in Gilead? Away from my little girl?" he countered as mildly as he could, trying not to emphasize the word my.

"I don't care what you want. You can't have everything you want. Just get back in that nice German car of yours, go back to your teenaged wife and your slaves and your bullshit life, and keep your hands off June."

He snorted. "Like you keep your hands off her?" Oops. I probably shouldn't have gone there.

"You are so lucky you're holding a child right now," Luke murmured dangerously, "or else I'd kick your ass."

"Yeah, sure you could," he said under his breath. Be polite, Nick reminded himself sternly. He's just realized he's lost June. Think of how that would feel.

"Why don't you two stop talking to each other?" June suggested hotly. "Or try acting like adults?"

"Right, adults. Like you?" Luke turned his wrath on his erstwhile wife. "In a mature relationship, with loyalty and open communication? 'Cause I have tried very hard to be understanding with you, June. Even though lots of ex-pats warned me what handmaids are, what they do, I always thought you'd be different."

"What handmaids do?" June murmured.

"You practiced being a whore for six years.…"

"Did you just call your wife a whore?" Nick interrupted.

"Did you just call her my wife?" he countered.

"She won't be for long," Nick muttered, picking up Holly and the giraffe to retreat to the bedroom. She didn't need to watch her mother's marriage imploding. Nor did he.

Luke watched them leave. "Okay, June, that's enough of this. Let's go home," he ordered her.

She shook her head, trying to formulate a retort.

"Hey, Luke," Rita suggested softly, "let's…maybe you could let Nick have a little time with his daughter. Since we're here."

"Fuck that!" he told Rita succinctly. He spoke loud enough for the commander to be able to hear through the door. "A 'little time' with Nichole? He's had more than enough time today with my wife. He doesn't get bonus time with my little girl." Luke turned to June. "I'm giving you a choice. Either you get your ass in the car and come home with me right now, to be a family with Nichole and me. Or else you stay here, let Nick play with her and maybe try to act like a father for once. Stay here in this little cabin with him forever, or go back to Gilead with him, I don't even care, but I'm out. I'm driving back to Toronto, and you can find your own way home if you want. Uber your way to the closest rental car, hitchhike, whatever. But I'm not waiting around while Nick and you play house. If you don't love me now, June, don't bother coming back to me again. You told me you'd never leave me, never cheat on me, and…I'm not dealing with this."

June had been frowning at him since he started insulting Nick and then handmaids. And she did not respond well to ultimatums. She called his bluff. "Fine, then, go ahead and leave. But Nick is risking his life to be here in Canada, so he is going to spend an hour with our daughter before he has to go back."

Luke turned on his heel and headed for the door...without the car keys. Before he exited, he looked over his shoulder at her, acknowledging she'd be worried if he just disappeared. In consideration, he explained, "I'm gonna take a walk in the forest, then I'll be leaving."

"Okay," June replied, unsurprised. She'd known he wouldn't strand her with Nichole at the border.

"Why don't I go with you?" Rita suggested. "I want to stretch my legs."

"I'd rather be alone."

Rita was not taking no for an answer. She got up and pushed Luke outside. "No, I'm going with you." She closed the door gently behind her, giving June a 'I got this' look. Rita and Luke were on the same page in many ways: caregivers without anyone who was willing to be taken care of. Rita understood him; she could handle him.

Reassured that he was in good hands, June joined Nick in the bedroom. He was sprawled out on the now-made bed, curled around his daughter, talking about giraffes. "They're not actually antlers or horns," he was explaining. "They're called something else, I just can't remember what right now. We could google it, if there were Wi-Fi around here. Maybe Mommy knows." He glanced up at her as she entered, smiled, then returned his gaze to the little girl. "She knows everything."

"Uh-huh," Holly concurred.

"I think they're called ossicones," June said, laying down casually on the pale blue comforter, facing Holly and her father.

"That's right," he said. "Oss…what she said." He pointed them out on the stuffed giraffe. "They're here, next to his ears." He locked eyes with June. "Told you, Mommy knows everything."

"Sometimes," June whispered. I don't know what to tell Luke, that's for damn sure.

"What are you going to name the giraffe?" he asked Holly. She looked at him quizzically, then at her mother, then down at her new pet. Considering the question.

"Got any ideas?" June asked him.

Nick regarded the toy. "Well, uh, it's got spots and those cone things, so…Spot?" He grimaced slightly. "Spot's not a very unique name, I guess."

"Spot is lovely. Very traditional. What do you think of Spot?" she asked Holly.

"Pot?" she repeated, trying out the new word.

June shrugged at Nick. "She doesn't pronounce the first sound in a word sometimes. But she's working on it."

Nick tilted his head at his daughter. "Can you hiss like a snake? Sssss?" Holly rewarded him with a long hiss. "So now say sssss-pot." He popped his mouth when he said the letter P, making her laugh.

"Ssss-pot," she giggled.

"Holy cow," Nick said in surprise. "I taught her something." Praise be, he nearly added out of habit. Damn Gileadean vocabulary. But in this case, it actually reflected his thoughts.

June smiled at him. "Yeah, you did." She held a hand out, pulled him towards her. She kissed his cheek. "She'll be able to say the letters SP because of you. Fun, right?"

"Yeah, this is fun. She's so…." Nick's working-class education didn't equip him with the requisite words. "Open to everything," he concluded. In that moment, he wanted to stay in Canada so badly his chest ached. He wanted nothing more in life than to be with his little family, to spend all day teaching and learning with Nichole and all night snuggling next to June. But the heavy-laden responsibilities of Gilead were pulling him back. If he defected, Rose would probably be married off like Naomi Putnam, sold to the highest bidder. Or else ostracized and demoted like Serena. Or, worst case scenario, turned into a handmaid like little Esther Keyes.

All of these results were unacceptable to Nick. Besides, that baby Rose was carrying was his. Not a child created in love like the adorable little angel in front of him, but his child nonetheless. A blameless child who'd need a father. A child whom he would also have to get to Canada someday, along with his or her mother. He couldn't just abandon the two of them.

But he could enjoy a few more moments with Holly now.

Back from his de-stressing walk with Rita, Luke interrupted their reconnection. Once again, he walked into the bedroom without knocking. "We're leaving now," he announced. He was relieved that this time, Nick and June were just lying there, not touching and fully clothed, listening to their daughter babble at them.

June regarded her husband coolly. What a contrast, she thought, between the ways Luke and Nick spoke to her. The latter would never order her to do anything, would never make demands of her. She asked Nick with her eyes if he'd be all right with leaving; he nodded in confirmation. "Okay," she acquiesced.

"Thanks for giving me the chance to catch up with Nichole, Luke," he said deferentially.

At least this time, June's husband managed to be gracious. "You're welcome. But I'd like to get on the road and back to civilization before dinnertime, or else she's gonna have a meltdown. She's not even at the terrible twos yet, but she's…well, she's a little stubborn."

Nick nodded, tried giving Luke a small smile. "Like mother, like daughter. It was inevitable." Luke didn't say anything to that, but he didn't punch Nick either, so it was a start.

June stood up. "Luke's right, we should get on the road." Stay polite, please, she begged him silently. She spoke the next sentence as quickly as she could. "Just give me a minute to say goodbye to Nick. Honey," she addressed the child in a more normal tone of voice, "would you please go potty with Dada before we leave?"

"Don't need otty," Nichole protested. She leaned against Nick, embraced him. She had strong preferences, and had decided she liked him. She felt safe near him.

After all she'd gone through in Gilead, June believed strongly in giving her daughter bodily autonomy—letting her choose her own clothes, not having bath when she wasn't in the mood, that sort of thing—but bathroom before a road trip was non-negotiable. "You have to try, okay, since we won't be home for a while. So go with dada."

Nichole looked at her first daddy beseechingly. "No, stay."

He shook his head. "Mommy told you to go." He picked her up, letting her legs swing around in a big arc until she came to rest near Luke. "Go on now."

"No." A miniature June, for sure.

"Nichole, if Mommy tells you to do something, you have to do it." Looking at June, he added, "I'm always going to agree with her." No playing one parent against the other. I remember that game from my own childhood. But since she seemed to need an explanation, he clarified, "Everyone goes potty before a long car ride, so we don't have to stop during the trip."

She pouted, but trotted out of the room obediently enough. Luke followed her, leaving the parents alone.

Nick sat back down on the bed, pulling June onto his lap. She snuggled up against him, pretty much just as Holly had done. His arms went around her. "I love being with you two," he admitted softly. "I feel so…I forgot about everything in Gilead, I forgot how worried I am. It's as close to real peace as I get."

She cupped his face in her hand. "I know. I love having you here. And Holly, she's pretty taken with you."

"You think?"

"Uh-huh. You're definitely one of her favorite people now. You and Spot both."

"Well, I'm glad I can compete with the giraffe." He kissed her forehead and nose before moving to her mouth. They'd always been good at communicating through touch and tongue. No words necessary. They hated farewells—they avoided the word goodbye all together. "I love you," Nick assured her between kisses.

She moved away from him slightly, to stare earnestly into his eyes. "I love you. Holly loves you. And I'll keep telling her stories about you til we see each other next."

He nodded at her. The lump in his throat was back. "Okay."

"You can do this. Just a little while longer." She could hardly imagine how hard it would be to return to Gilead...and Nick was doing it for her. For Hannah. She clutched him to her, whispered in his ear. "We love you. You remember that."

"Rita," Nick said through her open car window, "it was so good to see you again."

She reached her hand forward to grasp his shoulder warmly. "Take care of yourself. I mean it, don't be a hero in Gilead. Just survive. Peace be with you."

"You, too." Nick then looked at the driver, morosely staring at the road before him. "Luke." The older man glanced over to give him one last withering look, but said nothing. "Y'know, I'm heading back to a fascist dictatorship now, while you're going a nice warm house to live with June and Nichole."

"Oh, yeah, I'm so lucky," he muttered.

"Yeah, you are lucky," Nick countered. "You just don't know it. You've won the fucking lottery. I'd give anything to have your life."

Luke turned in his seat to look him straight in the eye. "Oh, you want my life? I've just wasted seven years of my god-forsaken life waiting for Calamity June here, being in love with someone who clearly doesn't love me. If you want that pain, I mean, go ahead. You can have it. You can have her. Come on over anytime." He looked back at his steering wheel and muttered, "But I know you won't." For Luke, the chain which bound him to his wife was shattered. Irrevocably. And this guy wouldn't step up; he didn't want the responsibility of a committed relationship.

Not knowing how to respond to his critique, Nick just leaned into the back seat of the car to give Holly one last kiss, surreptitiously brushing June's hand with his fingertips as he did so. Stolen touches in front of hostile men: their specialty.

"See you," June said simply.

Nick just nodded. With finality, he closed the car door, and he was left alone again.