Chapter Twenty One

Anniversary

Ouch!

She winced inwardly at the unpleasant sight of a teenager skidding on his behind on the ice-covered floor of the skating rink as a result of showing off to a particular girl while his friends, who were comfortably seated on the nearby bench, laughed at the young man's not so impressive predicament. Craning her neck slightly, making sure the boy was all right, she found herself stifling a chuckle, but wearing a wide smile nonetheless, as she looked on a few feet away at the same time relishing the last few pieces of her French fries.

Shaking her head at the amazement of what youth brought, she rolled the long sleeves of her dark brown wool turtleneck and, still with the smile pasted on her flushed face, cleaned the small mess she made on the wooden table she occupied by her lonesome at the park. She carefully disposed of the litter, depositing the empty crumpled paper where her burger once was wrapped and the red carton of her fries on the small plastic bag, securing it by making a small knot with the handles.

She was just about to stand up and depart for the Watchtower when a thought, a question, occurred to her.

Why am I in such a hurry?

It was Christmas, it was an international holiday, and even the proud group of villains who were now diminished in number, many thanks to the Superman wannabe, was celebrating it in careful hiding. And besides, it was her day off. So, instead of leaving, she heaved a sigh and placed her left elbow on the table, playing with the tall plastic cup of her drink, making small circles in the air, smiling at the sound of ice rustling inside the container, swishing with the brown liquid inside.

I am drinking ice-cold root beer in the middle of a freezing day. A smile formed on her lips just as a small drop of water resulting from condensation slid from the cup to the table.

Now staring at the lonely drop of water on the table, she could not help but have an epiphany.

The small, wet circle on the spacious table was very much like…her.

Alone.

In this very wide world.

She heaved another sigh while her eyes continued to stare at the tiny liquid smudge. Then she averted her eyes away from the table to stare at the snow-covered trees nearby as she thought deeply of her life for the past year.

She used to have this funny notion of growing old and grumpy with Kal. He had been the constant in her life so far, and because of who and what they were he was the likeliest to still be by her side after time, or fate, caught up with most of their friends.

But, sometime in the earlier part of the year, it was not hard to sense something different from her friend. He was not distancing himself on purpose but she could feel them slowly growing apart. And lately, he admitted to the truth.

And she had to be truthful to herself. She was happy for him, but there was a little part inside of her that felt a bit jealous because…it only accentuated the fact that she was now officially alone.

Kal…her best friend…the other half of one of the most promising love team ever to be invented…the boy who once bought underwear for her.

She laughed at the private remembrance.

Then, after a while, she sobered at the thought.

He was seeing someone, seriously seeing someone.

Nice alliteration there, seriously seeing someone.

Well, the same could be said for…Bruce.

Bruce…

He did not just distance himself, nor just pull away. He more or less severed whatever ties that brought them together. She even went as far as thinking that if he could only migrate to the next planet he would just to avoid her.

There was not a single mission in the past year with them together, and of course he had something to do with the roster of assignments. He hardly attended the meetings in person, most of the time he would just connect via phone or video conference. And if he ever did grace the Watchtower with his presence he would ignore her the best way he could but just in case the situation was inevitable he would acknowledge her being there with a curt nod, just a reminder that his etiquette and eyesight were still functioning normally.

But she had to give him the benefit of the doubt. Something he did not give her before.

He knew her memories of him, of them together were gone, J'onn explained everything to her when she awoke after receiving all the memories Hera took as condition of her restoration. Though, many times, she wondered if he still thought she was clueless. And many times she wanted, though she could not find the courage, to ask J'onn.

And as time passed by she, more or less, let the topic go. It was in the past and they have moved on.

Hence the alliteration, seriously seeing someone.

Well it had to be serious. Bruce Wayne had the track record of dating an average of six women a year, she smiled at the gossip one infamous tabloid reported. This year, he was down to two. It was either the women were finally getting smarter, or he was really beginning to be sincere.

Congratulations then to the lucky girl.

But, at the back of her mind, and as a worried frown on her face appeared, she could not help but think if she should worry for the woman.

But then again, why should she worry about things that do not, and should not, concern her anymore?

She took a deep breath as her eyes drifted to a particular spot and looked longingly at the empty table a few feet away from where she sat. And a melancholic smile appeared on her face at the memory that exactly a year ago she was sitting on that bench and across her was the man she loved.

And, in her mind, she heard the words that once were said.

"And I want to give it a try."

"Give what a try?"

"Us."

"According to the Watchtower daily gossip logs…I am spoken for."

"I don't care even if you are betrothed to the future king of England. Seriously…Diana. I want to give us a try."

"What about reasons number one to---"

"Forget I said them."

It seemed just only yesterday when in truth a year, a very memorable year, had passed. But his words still echoed in her ears, the words she so very longed to hear him say.

"Is this seat taken?"

She raised her face and tilted her head abruptly a little to her left. She blinked a few times and thought for a while that she was seeing an image her mind just thought up from all the reminiscing she had been doing.

But no, he was not an apparition, but flesh and blood. And just about two feet away, the closest he had ever been to her in a while.

Say something!

"No."

She was glad her voice sounded normal and added the faintest smile to recover from her initial expression of alarm though she knew it was an effort in vain because this was Bruce she was talking to.

"May I join you?"

"Of course." What's he doing here? She could not help but ask.

He sat opposite her, blocking her view of the bench she was caught red handed staring lovingly at and alarm signals sounded in her thoughts.

"I never thought I'd see you here," he mentioned casually, resting his elbows on the table. "Weren't you at the farm?"

"Yes." She sipped on the soda.

A very awkward silence settled as seconds ticked away. Then the embarrassing sound of her sipping through a straw on an empty plastic cup broke the silence.

"How was Christmas there?"

"It was great," she answered, placing the empty container before her as she thought strangely that a year ago, it was almost the same line of conversation they were having. For some reason, she wanted to change the topic before it strayed of to the matter of her and Kal once more. "But I had to leave early. There's somewhere I needed to be."

"Assignment? Surveillance?" Though his voice tried to sound indifferent, it was slightly laced with curiosity that was easily noticed by her, through all the years she had known him.

"No," she shrugged. "A…secret and personal mission." She hoped he got the meaning of personal and not press further.

"Oh." He leaned his back on the bench. "And now, you're just…reminiscing?"

"I'm having lunch."

"What did you have?"

Why the sudden questions?

If he did not have the serious Bruce Wayne expression on, as if it was the Batman she was talking to without the mask, she would have laughed at the immateriality of his inquiry. Then his line of questioning prompted her to be on her guard. Though it seemed innocent enough, a part of her mind could not help but think that he was baiting her for some reason.

"Junk…just junk food." She dismissed with a guilty smile before she changed the topic again. "To tell you the truth, I did not expect to see you here either."

And what he did next she did not expect.

He smiled.

It was so long since she last saw him smile like that.

And it made her feel warm inside as her heart did a familiar somersault.

"I know. I was just driving by and I saw a familiar face." He placed his palm on the table, tracing an invisible pattern with a finger though his eyes were fixed on her. "I'm not exactly a park person."

"More of a rooftop and dark alley kind of guy?"

He laughed.

She missed his laugh, a kind of happiness expressed in his own, simple way unlike the heartfelt guffaws that she shared with Kal and Wally. It was that kind that was a little more than a chuckle, but a laugh nonetheless, his trademark laugh.

And it had the power to melt every barrier that she had built.

"Bruce?" She tried to look concerned. She remembered it had to appear that it was the first time she ever saw him laugh. "Do you have a fever?"

"No. Why?" Amusement was still present on his face.

She raised an inquiring brow and a doubtful expression. "You're laughing. I…hardly see you laugh."

A shadow passed over his face and something in his expression changed. She knew what it was…disappointment. She knew then that somehow, because he saw her in the likeliest of places at this time of year, he might have this wishful thinking that she was starting to remember.

And that meant he still cared.

"I have to laugh sometimes," he explained with a rueful stare that tugged at her heart.

"Of course."

"I have a personality to keep."

"Yes you do."

"I only brood at night. When I am patrol, that is." He was quick to add.

She dismissed the feeling of jealousy at the implication. "We all know that."

"And besides…it's Christmas." He tried a faint smile. "I'm only grouchy…."

"Three hundred sixty four days a year."

She suddenly closed her mouth but realized it was too late when his mild demeanor changed into surprise in a blink of an eye.

"What did you say?"

"You're only grouchy…the rest of the year." She felt the color start to taint her cheeks as his eyes studied her close, as if scrutinizing her every next move.

"What did you have for lunch?"

"What?"

He looked at the empty cup on the table and noticed the logo of a very popular food chain. "What did you eat?"

"Seriously Bru---"

"A quarter-pounder with cheese, fries and root beer?"

She did not even bother to reply, afraid that her lips might betray her again by following what her heart wanted to say. But she knew very well that her eyes and flushed cheeks already gave her away as the chaos of emotions within her was reflected in them.

"Diana…" He leaned over and reached out, trapping her left hand in his.

His palm felt surprisingly cold on her hand. And she looked away at the intensity of his demanding stare.

"When?" He tugged on her hand. "When did you start to…remember?"

At that point, as she looked straight into his eyes, it was all plain to see that he was giving her the chance to explain as he fought against his own feelings. And all she wanted to do was open her lips and tell him everything.

But it was the hardest thing for her to do.

It was a very delicate matter and she had to find the right words to say to him that would make him understand and at the same time enlighten him that she was not holding him back to a past that he no longer was bound to. That, however it still hurt her, tore her apart every single time she was reminded that he had moved on with his life, she had set him free already.

She could not tell him that yet. Because of the truth that she did not want to truly end anything between them…because having the talk would only mean two things. If he still loved her…or if he did not anymore. And, for some reason, she was afraid of the answer.

She finally opened her lips to speak. "I can't tell you."

"Can't…or won't?"

"Both."

"Why?" His eyes pleaded.

When she could no longer bear the weight of the stare of his sad eyes she looked away. A moment passed before she felt him slowly let go of her hand. And from the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of him standing up to leave her alone.

Alone with her thoughts.

Alone with all the conflicting emotions.

Alone.

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She remembered.

But…since when?

His thoughts were too preoccupied as he drove, passing by the snow-lined streets.

Why didn't I even notice?

And he knew the answer to that question. Ever since the day her eyes looked at him without any trace of remembrance, he could not bear to look at them again. And so, as much as he could, he avoided seeing her, detaching himself from the pain that a single look from her could bring.

But not a day had passed that he did not think of her.

And as he reached the familiar confines of the manor, he purposely strode to his study, sat in front of the computer and replayed the events of that fateful day when she decided to open up to J'onn.

Now, for the second time, without the malicious interference of the voice of the curse that played with his anger, he watched her face, all the feelings, the conflicts, with different eyes. Her expression changed from that of quiet amusement, to awe and wonder, to a smile of remembrance even managing the shortest of giggles, to uncertainty, to a face that was totally in love, to end with eyes that were concealing sadness.

And he overlooked all of those feelings, all that she went through. Because he was too busy feeling angry that he did not even try and understand.

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"Master Bruce…" Alfred started as he entered the swinging doors to the butler's sanctuary, the kitchen, and looked for something on the refrigerator. "Would you like some tea, coffee?"

"No, thank you." He sat on the nearest stool by the counter and popped the tab on his can of root beer.

Alfred stared at the can regretfully, remembering that his charge started this habit of drinking the beverage for almost a year now. He was afraid Bruce might get an ulcer, if he did not have one already. "May I remind you that…consuming an awful lot of that liquid---"

"It's just my first." He took a generous gulp and looked away.

"For the evening." Alfred was quick to add while checking on the pot of simmering water. But his aged and all too knowing eyes were also quick to notice something was amiss with the younger man's far away look. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

Alfred stilled his hand from reaching a glass container of pasta. "Sir, I know by now that you know very well that I can tell if you're not telling the truth."

Though the semantics would have sounded confusing he knew what Alfred was implying. "Alfred…"

"What sir?" Alfred offered an affectionate smile. "I know you certainly did not come here just to gulp that beverage to the last drop while moping, did you?"

He finally faced the older man. "She…" There was a slight hesitation. "…Diana remembers."

A moment of surprise passed Alfred's face as he recalled the bits and pieces of information that Bruce dropped once in a while but never wholly opened up to. "The princess told you?"

He shook his head. "No, I found out." He took another sip. "She obviously has no plans of telling me."

Alfred sighed. "Well…you obviously have no plans of telling her either, Master Bruce."

Alfred was absolutely right. But he did not like admitting to that truth. "What's for dinner?"

"Fettuccine in white sauce." Alfred knew of the deliberate change of topic as his eyes strayed to the pasta container. But he was not buying any of it. The young man had managed to avoid the topic for a time now and it was time to settle things. "Be truthful, sir. For all of the year you thought she did not remember. Yet you did nothing to help her."

He knew it was coming. "Because it's better that way. She'd be free of the pain I caused her."

"Maybe…that's what she thought also when she kept the truth from you. She has the right to feel that way too, don't forget."

"I know."

"Besides…why does it matter? You have moved on, sir. If your date the other night was any indication…"

Date…it was just a date, a public appearance the press just had to catch to show the people Bruce Wayne was not getting soft. And, even if they knew they would never be able to claim his heart, he felt sorry for the nameless women who would put up with him, who he would leave broken hearted later.

Broken hearted…like he was.

How did one recover from a love that was denied many times?

How did one recover from loving Diana?

Maybe…never.

"Do you still…love her?"

As he looked at the butler's inquiring eyes, he knew the answer very well. And he was about to admit to it when the doorbell rang. He abruptly stood up as if glad with the intrusion, leaving the empty soda can.

"I'll get it." And as he exited the kitchen, with a faint smile, he heard Alfred whisper.

"Saved by the bell."