Delphine wakes groggily to her doorbell incessantly ringing. She throws her blanket over the back of the couch and shuffles to the door.
"Benja – Mr. Owens. What are you doing here?" She looks at the group of men, headed by Mr. Owens, tiredly. This is what she pictured when William first told her he was being audited. A team of suits.
"We have a warrant to search Mr. Black's home office again," he tries to sound professional, but she can tell he's intimidated.
"Right, right, I forgot. Come in," she waves the men in and closes the door behind them. "William isn't home. You have my permission to search the entire house if you like. Mr. Owens, you remember where his office is, right?"
"Yes, ma'am," he nods curtly.
"There's a safe in there, too. I'll try to open it for you," she starts up the stairs.
"That's not necessary," Benjamin seems to notice her mood.
"Please," she says, first to him, but then looks across the pack of men. "Just find something, okay?"
Most of them nod and start their wandering. Mr. Owens follows Delphine to the office. "Are you alright, Mrs. Cormier? You're still trying to look for a reason to leave him?"
"At this point I just want him to get in trouble for something. Anything. I want to leave him, too, I just…don't know how," she answers more honestly than she means to. She's not used to being so helpless. Crouching down near the safe, she starts her attempts at cracking it. His own birthday being her first guess.
"We'll try our best. Where is Mr. Black?" Benjamin sets his briefcase down and sits at the desk.
"I don't know. I haven't seen him since Friday night. He called once Saturday morning, but I haven't heard from him since," she shrugs and nods to the man, then nods to the open safe. "Good luck. Let me know if you need anything".
She does find it unusual that William hasn't returned home to continue lecturing her. He may have gone on a bender or he could be staying with another woman for a while. She hasn't tried calling his work. Maybe he's just be sleeping in his office.
For whatever reason, she's been sleeping on the couch since she got home. She got hardly any sleep after Cosima left her hotel room. The girl weakly knocked on the bathroom door a couple of times but gave up. Part of Delphine wishes Cosima would've tried a bit harder, but she knows it's for the best. There's an odd feeling of guilt when she realizes how much she still misses her. She'll forget for a few hours, but like clockwork, the memory of Cosima's existence returns full force. This time felt more like an honest 'breakup'. Their argument was real, their anger was real. Delphine wonders, if she could go back, would she still end up seeking out Cosima? Does she actually regret the whole occurrence or just the way it played out with her husband?
The doors to her bedroom squeak loudly when she pushes them open, echoing through the barren house. Leaning in the doorway, she looks at her false life. Cosima's right. She shouldn't be proud of her marriage. All she did was tolerate his shortcomings. She thought that if she just made it perfectly clear she wasn't affected by it, her husband's infidelities couldn't possibly count as taking advantage of her. She just didn't want to confront him and make an issue out of something she genuinely didn't worry about. Sure, it pissed her off that he got to sleep around and have some rock star's life half the time, that he thought she was stupid enough to not notice it, but the actual acts didn't mean much to her. Her marriage was for status, and she has to admit, she liked the status. Of course, she's technically higher up in her own company than William is in his, but she still managed to play the dependent wife. They just matched. Two ambitious successful people who didn't care about one another.
The closet door slides open, and she finds something professional, but comfortable. She's not in the mood to deal with tight, stiff, unmovable ensembles. Too tired. When she's finished, she leaves the bedroom door open in case they feel the need to search there, too. Though, she doubts they'd find anything.
"Benjamin?" Delphine knocks on the office door. Two other men have joined him already. She's already stopped caring about formalities.
The small man excuses himself and they both step out into the hallway. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing. I just need to go to work," she explains. "You can stay and look as long as you like – every room is open to you. My housekeeper will lock up after you leave".
"Okay, thank you," he nods with a serious look on his face. "And, Delphine," he stops her before she turns to leave. "You said you don't know how to leave. I don't know if you were talking about technically or emotionally. Either way, all you need to do is…leave. Move out, get a lawyer, file for divorce. Just get yourself away from him. It can take a long time, but you need to be happy, too. He doesn't need to be in trouble with the law for you to pursue something better".
It's the reality. She knows it, and she understands how simple it can be. If there were someone by her side, it would be much easier. No need for guidance, just support. She can't ask that of Cosima, though. No matter how much she wants to. "Thank you, Benjamin," Delphine smiles and leans in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. He blushes and nods.
…
…
…
Delphine takes a detour on her way to work, driving through William's work parking lot. His car is nowhere to be seen. There's a chance he's avoiding the home search. He must know he's in trouble. There was something at the corporate building that was damning enough to grant them a warrant.
For such a dignified man, William's life is rather murky. He sleeps with young girls who probably barely pass the legal age mark. He steals from those same artists even after receiving a large enough paycheck to maintain his lifestyle. Some of the house it technically owned by the label, including his home office, but everything else he has the means to pay for. With her help, of course. Why is it still not enough for him? She can't remember if they signed a prenup or not. It has been too long. She's been married for too long. How has it lasted so many years?
She needs her vice. Parking in the far end of a large retail store parking lot, Delphine fetches her stash of cigarettes and lights one up. All she's ever heard about divorce is that it's difficult, expensive, and it can last forever. Still, so many people do it. She wonders if it's worth it. Those factors must vary heavily between different situations. The expense isn't much of a concern. The only difficulty would be in technicalities and being patient with William. But she does get the feeling it would last much longer than necessary with William being the other party. What harm would come from asking a lawyer about it?
She stomps out her cigarette and gets back in her car, diving into her purse to search for the number Anne gave her. It's bent and smeared, but legible – barely. Skipping work so often isn't like her. Her coworkers have probably noticed by now. She stares at the card. Should she go to work and deal with this later? Tomorrow, maybe, or next week? No, she's put this off for too long, she can't keep procrastinating. This should've been done years ago. She dials the number.
The phone call isn't nearly as difficult as she was predicting. The woman was friendly enough. Professionalism is easy for her and the whole conversation was very business-like. If the whole process were to go this way, she wouldn't mind. Since Anne sent her, she gets a consultation right away, squeezed into lunch today's hour.
It's all quite simple until she pulls up to the building. It's intimidating and she's not used to being intimidated. Sometimes it's a bit unbelievable how many feelings she isn't used to having. She can't back out now, though. It's only a consultation, she tells herself.
The woman is waiting in her office and greets her with a smile when she knocks on the door. It's spacious just like Delphine's and the window frames a view of the city perfectly. It's just business. The whole scene familiar enough which calms her enough to walk in with feigned confidence and shake the woman's hand.
…
…
…
Delphine finds herself at the café across the street from her work. She has at least fifteen missed calls, a few voicemails, a dozen or so text messages, and probably over fifty emails. Her phone stays untouched on the table, though. There's just no motivation to go to the office when she can do most of her work remotely. And especially when she has virtually no authority to answer to.
A familiar ringtone invades her reverie, and she sees that it's the same man she talked to at the party – the man who always calls her Mrs. Black.
"Hello?" She doesn't know why she decides to answer this call out of all the ones she's missed. Maybe he has news that they've all been sentenced to life in prison.
"Are you at home?" He skips the pleasantries. His voice is cracked with a mixture of nerves and urgency.
"I'm working. Why?"
"Delphine, why the hell–" the second she hears William's fuming voice in the background, she hangs up and turns her phone off. He must be staying with his coworker, then. Odd, but not completely out of character. William would sooner get a hotel room, but maybe he feels safer with his co-conspirators.
How has her life gotten this intense so quickly? Everything is crashing down on her all at once and the only thing she can do is bear it. She looks at her office building, knowing she needs to at least show her face today. Maybe just go in and read her emails. Easy enough. Just to say she was there for an hour or two.
Still taking her time, she finishes her coffee, pays, and walks at a leisurely pace to her office. She's hoping it takes long enough that some people may even be leaving for the day. Most of her missed calls are from the office and she doesn't have the energy to deal with whatever issues await her. Reading her emails is all she's prepared for today.
When she pushes through the glass doors, she sees the receptionist is temporarily absent, the phone ringing. It's relieving since she would likely be the conduit through which all these issues find her. She walks quietly through the halls, taking the back way around to her office to avoid the people expecting to see her. So much has happened, it seems, since Friday that when the doors to her office come into view, it feels like it's been years since she last came in. It's almost unfamiliar.
As silently as she can manage, Delphine slips through her office door and closes it softly behind her. The employees in the offices closest to hers would be on her in a heartbeat if she made her presence known. Today is emails - just emails. Once she's locked the door, she notices the soft sound of breathing.
Terrified, she turns around to face the intruder in her office, first looking to her desk – empty – then to the small sofa by the window. Her heart is warmed, but also constricted when she sees Cosima sleeping soundly. Frozen in place, she's unsure of what to do, but knows she's unwilling to wake her. Right now, Cosima is here and they're not arguing. She's here, peaceful.
Delphine moves to her desk, making sure to mute the clack of her heals with every step. She logs onto her computer and starts going through her emails. Having Cosima there, conscious or not, makes her feel nearly serene. The minutes pass by smoothly and half the turmoil bubbling inside of her is subdued. It's enough to keep her mind in denial of her troubles. The sound of Cosima's calm breath is like the perfect white noise.
Perfect until an offensive knocking blitzes her door. She watches Cosima wake suddenly and turn her attention to the source of the sound. The handle turns several times, rattling the door even more, but it doesn't last long before the person gives up and leaves.
"Did I lock that?" Cosima mumbles to herself, looking at the door confused.
"No, that would be me," Delphine answers, loving the adorable jolt it causes the girl.
"Holy fucking shit, what the fuck, when did you get here?" She says all at once, the fatigue wearing off swiftly.
"About ten or fifteen minutes ago," Delphine leans back in her chair and watches Cosima make her way to the chair on the other side of her desk. "Et toi?"
"Uh…I got here around noon. What time is it?"
Delphine glances at her screen, "Just past four".
"Jeez, okay…"
"Did you have a good nap?"
"Why didn't you wake me up when you got here?" Cosima ignores the sarcastic question.
"I'm a busy woman, Cosima," she evades. "Would you mind telling me why you made yourself at home in my office?"
"A couple things…one, did you know your office was unlocked?" Delphine shakes her head. She's not good at remembering to lock it before leaving for the day. "Okay, two, you shouldn't be surprised I was in here. When I came in, the girl at the front was snarky and all like, 'you really must be something special' and I asked her what she was talking about and she said that the last time I was here, even after basically being escorted out, you told her to always send me back, like, no matter what".
"Almost true. And what brought you here today?"
"Can I ask how many other people can just be sent straight to your office? How long is that list?"
Delphine debates whether she should say or not. It may just add more complexity to their relationship which is the very last thing she needs. The truth is, Cosima is the only person on that list. "Why are you here, Cosima?"
"I'm, uh, I'm here because the band is concerned about our contract with the label," she answers unconfidently.
"I'm not the one in charge of your contract. I'm afraid you've camped out in the wrong office".
"I know that…it's just, with what happened on Friday, we want to know if our careers are in danger. I mean, you're his wife, so…" she shrugs.
"Are you talking about the argument that you and I had or the argument that William and I had? And as far as I know, William is not aware of how we know each other. I don't see what the events of Friday have to do with your contract".
"Not the arguments. Mr. Black's fucking psychotic break. He was the one in charge of our contract and it hasn't been finalized yet as far as I know. I think it would be hard for him to deal with that when he's in jail, don't you?"
"Jail? What are you talking about?" Delphine shakes her head, confused.
"Oh, come on, Delphine. I'm not an idiot. You'd know if your husband was in jail or not," Cosima rolls her eyes.
There's another knock on the door before she can process the information. Delphine gets up and unlocks it, grateful for the well-timed interruption.
"Mrs. Cormier, I just need a couple signatures," the man pleads. She sighs and lets him in, taking the thin folder from his hand. "Oh, hello. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were meeting with someone".
"Hey, I'm Cosima," the girl smiles politely.
"And you're a new client?" he looks her over. She shakes her head. "Artist?"
Cosima shrugs. "I'm a musician. That's an artist, right?"
"Oh, are we expanding?" he looks to Delphine who is flipping through the pages, signing every once in a while.
"Maybe," she answers. "Cosima's band plays at Martell – the venue for next week".
"Okay," he nods to himself. "So, we're trying out live music with the show? That's not a bad idea. It beats that bass-y electro-pop".
"Here. Is that all?" Delphine hands the folder back to him. He nods his head, thanks her, and quietly closes the door behind him when he leaves. Delphine wastes no time, "Cosima, William isn't in jail, he called me almost an hour ago".
"Oh. I thought for sure they would at least keep him for a few days. I guess I'm not really an expert on jail-time, though".
"Cosima what are you talking about?"
"Seriously?"
"Seriously".
"Okay, well…I guess Mr. Black had a freak out when he went back to the party Friday night. He just kept drinking and was all hysterical. Then he started arguing with that guy you were talking with there and ended up, like, yelling and shit, and then he broke a wine bottle, like he just threw it on the floor, and then a security guard came in with a couple cops and they took him away. Madi sent me a video of the last part. Hold on," Cosima scrolls through her phone and pulls up the video, handing the device to Delphine.
The video starts when William is already arguing, yelling. It's far enough away that the video didn't pick up much of what he was saying. After a few seconds, she can hear the people near Madi's phone making comments as the rest of the room comes to a stand-still. William picks up a bottle of wine and tries to open it with his fingertips. When it doesn't work, he tosses it aside. The glass doesn't shatter, but it breaks open enough to stain a lot of shoes. Will starts cussing, throwing his hands up, stumbling through the broken glass. The security guard and two police officers approach him, first trying to talk him down, but they eventually just grab his arm and pull him out through the crowd.
She hands the device back to Cosima and stares at her desktop. "Not to be judgy, but…how did you not know?" Cosima asks timidly.
Delphine shakes her head to herself. "I don't know. He didn't come home all weekend. I just figured he was staying somewhere else. He called once early Saturday morning, but that's it".
"His one phone call I guess. He didn't mention he was in jail"?
"I didn't answer it," Delphine shrugs. His coworker must have been the one to pick him up then. She wonders why he just managed to get ahold of her on Monday afternoon. Was he held for three days?
Her office phone startles them both. She lets it go until it stops ringing, staring at the receiver. A few moments later, it starts ringing again. Before she can gather her wits enough to answer, a quick stomping noise starts pounding in the halls. Someone yells "sir" but the footsteps don't stop. Not until they reach her office, and the door is forced open.
"Where the hell have you been?" William demands through his teeth, staring down Delphine.
"I'm at work. Are you having vision issues?" She responds crossing her arms.
"This is not the time, Delphine. Do you even know where I've been all weekend?" Will keeps a stiff menacing posture by the door.
"I know you haven't been home," she shrugs.
"I was in a goddam jail cell, Delphine. You never answered your phone".
"On what charge?"
"I don't know. Disturbing the peace, disorderly conduct, and potentially public intoxication," he rolls his eyes.
"That got you three nights in jail?"
"That got me one night in jail," his anger starts to tone down as the conversation turns toward his delinquency. "I was still mostly drunk when I got there, and I wasn't feeling very cooperative, so...I got mad and...But, Delphine, that's not the point. My coworker came for me instead of my wife".
"William, you're disturbing everyone here. This conversation will have to wait. I'm in the middle of a meeting," she cocks her head at him, a cold expression.
For the first time since he entered, William glances at the person on the other side of the desk. "Cosima? What are you doing here?"
"I asked her to meet with me. I, ehm…" she tries to come up with something on the spot, but the menacing scowl her husband is pinning to Cosima is distracting her.
"She's having an art show thing at the place our band played at regularly and was wondering if we'd be interested in performing during her show. She wanted to ask me first before making any official requests," Cosima fills in.
"William, I will be home in a few hours. Just wait until I'm done here, and we will talk," Delphine instructs in her assertive authoritative voice. He looks behind him and sees a few heads sticking out of other offices. There's a brief moment of consideration before the man is able to silently shrug and shake his head, leaving the office with wide, angry eyes.
"Anne told me basically to not fuck with him because of his temper…" Cosima comments, watching the door and vacant hallway.
Delphine hums and nods. "When are you going to tell me why you're here?"
"I did…"
"You and your band are worried about your contract?"
"Yeah".
"I know nothing about your contract. Why are you here?"
"We thought Mr. Black may have discussed something with you. I'm not sure if our contract is finalized yet or not. We're just worried and didn't know who else to ask".
"Mr. Black doesn't discuss his contracts with me. There are other people aside from Mr. Black who can finalize your contract. And I know you have more than one contact at the label who could give you more information or direct you to someone who could. Why are you here?"
Cosima exhales and leans back in the chair. "Why do you think?" Delphine shrugs, avoiding eye-contact. "I wanted to talk about Friday, but you never answered your phone or texts".
"There's nothing to talk about," the blonde's voice loses its authoritative air. She can already feel an argument approaching. It's inevitable with them anymore.
"Delphine. You are all over the place," Cosima scoffs. "There's nothing to talk about, this has nothing to do with you, don't contact me anymore, you're special enough to be granted unconditional access to this office, please come in, please leave. It's every two seconds with you. Are you that ill-equipped to handle your own emotions?"
"Yes," she raises her voice, just slightly. "I don't care what you do. I'll leave," Delphine exits out of her computer and grabs her bag.
"No," Cosima reaches the door first, closing and locking it. "You do care".
"And look how well that's turned out," she resigns to her capture, claiming the couch and crossing her legs, still closed off to most of the conversation.
"This isn't the result of you caring, Delphine. It's the result of you pretending like you don't," Cosima points out. "You're like a fucking electric fence with signs that say 'come on in' all over it. You pull and then push away. Is that how your life has always gone – people start caring about you, and then you pretend it's not real? You just push anyone who risks your emotional security away. Is that why there's no one real in your life?"
"No," she answers firmly, coolly. "I've just never had someone to push away before".
"Then why is it that you're treating me like this? Just be fucking honest with me".
"You know what, why don't you be honest with me?" she leans forward. "If I had divorced my husband and openly pursued you, then what? Would I be anything more than a one-night stand? I've seen what you're like with women. Why should I waste my dignity on that?"
"Does being with me hurt your pride, Delphine?" Cosima asks rhetorically with a sneer.
"I wouldn't know," she throws back. "You're avoiding my question".
"I don't fucking know. I can tell you confidently that you wouldn't just be a one-night stand, but beyond that, no one can really guarantee the future". Cosima sits on the other end of the couch, facing the blonde.
"What would you have wanted to happen?"
"Delphine, you can't go weeks avoiding that very question when I ask it and then expect me to just give you an answer when you ask".
"It's different for me," Delphine runs her fingers through her hair, staring at the locked door, fully aware it will only keep other people out and has no use in keeping her in. "Cosima, have you ever been in love before?"
"Once, I guess. Why?" She retracts unconsciously.
"Did you pursue a relationship?"
"Yeah. We were together for almost six years".
"Is that what asshole Kyle was talking about when you urgently interrupted him?" Delphine's voice softens, remembering the man commenting on their relationship, holding Cosima's hand, kissing her. She used to attempt re-living that high in the weeks following the useless "breakup".
"Yep".
"Why didn't you want me to know?"
"I don't know. I was embarrassed, I think. You would've asked about it and the story's kind of pathetic".
"More pathetic than your high school romance that introduced you to a world of hardcore drugs?"
Cosima laughs at the thought of weed being considered hardcore. "It's pathetic in a different way," she shrugs. Delphine just looks at her, waiting for the story. Cosima rolls her eyes. "It was the girlfriend I had after that one. Same grade this time. We were best friends, I was over at her house all the time, her mom loved me. I was so attached. I'd do anything for her. She introduced me to her other friends, and they didn't really like me until they saw I was pretty good with computers. Her mom let me download audio editing software and cheap mixing programs on their computer. We started a band. We all graduated. I started working as a bartender at Martell which lasted all of two hours before they learned I didn't know anything about bartending. Then a magic chance encounter with an old guy's computer malfunction landed me a job as his personal tech support and, like, stage electrician. After about a year and a half, I asked if my band could play and he said yes. We started playing regularly and it was working out pretty well. After three months or so, she went out back to smoke a joint with me and out of nowhere said, 'you know, I don't think I'm really into girls.' Just..." Cosima shakes her head and stares at her hands. "I wanted to quit the band obviously, but they begged me not to because they didn't want to take the chance the manager would cut them without me. So, we kept playing and I just pretended I was over her until I actually was. The end".
"The girl who plays the drums?" Delphine thinks about the two together, but she just can't see it.
"You remember asshole Kyle, but not Madi?" Cosima gives her a look.
She nods. If she thought about it for longer than a second, she could recall her name, but she just doesn't associate her with enough pleasant memories. Asshole Kyle reminds her of when she was being led around the city by Cosima. She was with her, calling her sweet names, kissing her. She was going to buy a large warehouse from asshole Kyle for Cosima. "You only stayed with them out of obligation? Guilt?"
"Well, they kind of pitied me, too. I didn't want them to think I was all broken up about it or depressed or whatever, so I just kept showing up, kept making sure they saw I was fine. That's how I got into picking up girls every night I could. Just became a habit after that, I guess".
"You're right. That is very pathetic," Delphine chuckles. "Why can't you quit the band now?"
"Probably the same reason you stay with your lame husband," Cosima reasons, the resentment in her voice expressing only a tenth of what she feels.
"I think…I'm not. I saw a lawyer today," Delphine stares at the ground, unsure of the shy feeling she's experiencing. "Quit your band, Cosima".
"You can't just order people around, Delphine. You're probably used to it at work, but peoples' personal lives are their business," Cosima snaps a bit, miffed at the audacity Delphine has to tell her what to do like she doesn't already know the solution. As though Delphine has always made the right decision.
"Fine, don't. I don't care," she shakes her head and gets up again, disappointed by her less than enthusiastic reaction. "Do whatever you want".
"You do too care. You just fucking asked me what I wanted".
"And you didn't answer," Delphine hooks her bag back over her shoulder, pacing her journey to the door.
"You didn't answer my questions either. You started asking me about my past relationships. I don't see what my exes have to do with how you feel about me now and what you want from this".
"I asked if you'd ever been in love. And you said you have. You have experience and understanding, at least to some extent," Delphine reminds her. Cosima shrugs and crosses her arms. "Well, I don't. I don't get it, I don't know to make sense of foreign feelings and somehow put together what I want from them. That's why it's different. I have no reference".
"It's not that complex, Delphine. It's basically a yes or a no question. Do you want this – yes or no?"
"There's more to it than that, and you know it," she glares, finally making it to the door. "You can't just have what you want whenever you want it. Everyone knows that".
"Wait," Cosima stops her before she has the chance to turn the handle, freezing in the middle of the room. "You're comparing times I've been in love to what you're dealing with now. Are you saying…?"
Delphine's chest tightens, only now understanding how stupid it was of her to discuss this out loud. She just wanted to make the point that Cosima would have an easier time coming up with an answer since she's been through a similar experience, that Delphine has a completely valid reason for not answering. Cosima is the expert and shouldn't expect Delphine to process these things on the same level.
Her mistake is overwhelming. How could she be so thoughtless? There's no readily available excuse, something to dismiss everything. She can't say it was hypothetical, Cosima would argue that immediately. She can't say she was kidding.
Instead, she doesn't answer. She lowers her eyes, exhales, and silently slips out the door.