"You're home."
Bash shivers from the cold outside the house and from the rain that's just drenched him as he legged it up the driveway from the cab into the porch and finally into the house.
The lights were off so he expected to be met with nobody home. By nobody, he means Kenna. But she's there, standing in her sweater and her jacket that's dried in some patches from the rain and he restrains himself from bringing her into his arms and having his way with her.
"I-I only came to grab some stuff and... Francis mentioned in passing you'd come home so I did some grocery shopping," she stammers, eyes springing with tears as she moves to the door but he stops her.
"Wine?"
She turns to him and nods, studying his face. He's got dark rings under his eyes and she's no different but they both look content and as normal as can be for a couple separated when it's almost Christmas.
"Sure," she finds herself saying. "I can't stay for long, I've got to go home to Scotland tomorrow afternoon."
Home to Scotland... But France is your home, he thinks. This is your home. He leads her to the kitchen and grabs a bottle from the wine rack, uncorking it and pouring it into the two glasses she retrieved from the cupboard.
He takes his jacket off, leaving it on the heater as she removes hers and places it beside his, making her way to the conservatory with her hands on her forearms. She takes a seat on the window seats and brings her legs up in comfort after slipping her feet out of her heeled boots.
He joins her, handing her a glass before taking a seat opposite her, his knees bent in front of him as they both stare out at the rain.
"I missed you," Bash says quietly.
Kenna looks over at him. "I missed you too," she admits. "I'm sorry."
He places his glass down onto the ground and pulls her into his arms. "I'm sorry too, Kenna."
She pulls back to press her lips against his neck but he stops her. "What?"
"Sex won't fix this," he says, smiling wryly. "As much as I want it, we did have emotional moments before things got physical. We were best friends, Kenna. We could tell each other everything."
"Okay," she says, shuffling back and getting her wine again. She takes a long sip, her eyes never leaving his. "Let's talk."
"You ended things," he says tightly.
She nods. "I did and I'm sorry."
"I don't even know what we are right now," he continues and that's when she notices his bare finger when she couldn't even take hers off. "For the first time in seven years, I slept with someone else."
Kenna grips onto the wine glass tightly, so sure she will... Something trickles down her trousers and she hears Bash gasp and curse before he's up and searching for something in the warm-lit kitchen. She swallows hard when she stands, placing the broken shards in her hand into the bin before he heads over with the First Aid Kit.
"We need to go to the hospital," he mutters, trying to stem the bleeding.
It doesn't even hurt much to her surprise but then she curses when he carefully tries to remove a large bit of glass from her palm.
"Motherfucker!" Tears spring to her eyes and he presses a chaste kiss on her forehead before wrapping her hand in the kitchen rag and grabbing her car keys that had dropped onto the ground by the heater as she puts her heels on.
They head into the garage and soon, they're at the hospital, Kenna's hand nicely cleaned and wrapped.
As they wait for her discharge papers, Bash apologises. "It just happened. I didn't want to think about it. I took my ring off and knocked on her door."
Kenna turns to him, shrugging indifferently before smiling a little. "I slept another guy too. But he wasn't you." I kept comparing him to you. She sighs sadly.
"She wasn't you," he breathes out, offering his hand.
She takes it, wrapping her good hand with his. "I didn't have the heart to remove my ring though."
He sniffles, tears springing to his eyes. "I'm sorry but-"
"No! Don't be," she quickly says, letting go to cup his cheek. "God, no. We weren't together... We aren't together." She sees his face fall even more. "But..."
"But...?"
"I think this is good for us," Kenna says, not entirely what she wants to say and she mentally curses herself. "The distance."
Bash curses as he blinks back tears. "Kenna, this is destroying me," he tells her shakily. "I want you back, baby."
"I can't, we can't-"
"Kenna."
"Sebastian," she says softly. She's only ever called him that when she was horny or annoyed and right now, she's neither. Distance is good. If we couldn't work on it, then it's good to just leave things be.
"I'll stay at Francis and Mary's this time," Bash mumbles.
Kenna nods sadly. "Okay, but you don't have to... I'm going to Scotland tomorrow, remember?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Just a week and I'll probably go and stay with Greer and Leith," Kenna replies.
He sighs, getting off the bed and retrieving her jacket, helping her get into it. He turns when the curtains draw and the nurse enters with the discharge form that he fills out with Kenna's permission.
The drive back home is done in comfortable silence, they are always good when it comes to that. No tense conversations or awkward smiles and glances, just silence in getting from point A to point B.
"Do you need help?" Bash asks when he notices that her suitcase has been by the stairs all along. "I can even drop you off... I doubt you'd want to pay for airport parking or leave it at Francis's."
Kenna bites her lip. "C-Could I stay the night?" She asks. "Just to give them a breather. I honestly thought you were coming after I left that's why I was really here... And to fill up the fridge for you and air the place out."
"S-sure, it's..." Your home too... But is it really? How does this separation thing work? We've only taken breaks. "Yeah, stay over."
"Okay," she says gratefully before heading upstairs. "Goodnight."
"Night," he whispers, watching her disappear upstairs.
He ends up sleeping on the sofa instead despite the many bedrooms upstairs.
Come morning, she's gone and he drowns his sorrow in the forgotten wine from last night. He's never known a better breakfast than the red liquid, as red as the one spilling from her hand last night.
...
Christmas Eve doesn't come any easy for Bash as dreams of himself as a child. A young, six-year-old, green-eyed boy. His eyes are wide, looking up at a blurry figure and the light from the sun is blocking her features but he sees her, he sees his mother Diane.
And he can't breathe.
Her grip on his throat tightens and he tries to fight her off, screaming as well as he could, "Maman!" He's getting tired, his eyes are closing slowly, lizard blinks and everything is going black as spots field his vision.
Then his eyes close and they open to see Kenna over him, replacing his mother and she's crying as she squeezes his throat tightly, telling him that she's sorry, that the voices are telling her to, that she loves him so much.
Then she's telling him to "Breathe."
"Kenna?" He whispers clear as day as she repeats for him to breathe.
So he does, waking up to Francis hovering over him, worried.
"Are you okay?"
He's breathing heavily, turning to the door where Mary's standing with her phone in hand.
"You weren't breathing," Francis explains, gesturing for Mary to go. "He's alright. We don't need to call for an ambulance."
Mary nods. "Uh, okay," she mumbles, closing the door behind her.
Francis sighs, shifting on the bed beside Bash who sits up. "Do they get worse?"
"It's never been like that. At least, not since I started having therapy at eighteen," Bash tells him.
"Do you... want to talk about it?" Francis asks him. "Because somehow, you managed to say a particular name."
Bash knows exactly what Francis is talking about and he fingers the edge of the duvet, closing his eyes. "The only other woman to leave me was my mother. She never came back, Francis. You know that. So when Kenna suggests a separation... a little bit of me dies but I steady myself because I've been through it before. But she came back yesterday. She wanted sex and I wanted it too but... we can't because she made a decision, I agreed and now, we have to deal with that."
"I'm sorry," Francis mumbles. "So, there's no turning back?"
"When she wants to talk, I don't want to talk. When it's the other way around... Lord knows how stubborn we are," Bash replies, running his fingers through his hair. "She asked permission to stay over and I realised that we're going to have to discuss stuff like that. Who gets the house? What about our shared account? How long do we leave it until making things official?" Then he sniffles. "If I could just convince her to give things another go. I will work less, be more present, see that therapist guy a lot more. Anything to get her back."
Francis sighs heavily. "She doesn't want that. I even tried convincing her. Maybe last night was a moment of weakness because she's not been doing so well, Bash. This is hurting both of you and I guess you just have to get through it. Grin and bear it until the pain lessens."
"Mhm," Bash hums. "Sorry for waking you up. You should... get back to Mary. I know she's worried."
Francis nods, kissing the side of Bash's head as he gets out of the bed. "One day at a time, yeah?"
"Yeah," Bash replies, watching his brother leave the bedroom, the door closing with a click.
His phone starts buzzing on the bedside table beside him and he almost ignores it until he sees who it is.
"Kenna?"
"Uh, hi..." She says softly. "I'm so sorry to have to do this but can you come to Scotland? I don't want my family to know that my marriage is over just yet and I just said you were spending it with Francis, Mary and the kids since work could call you up at any time..." She swallows deeply, shifting on the other line. "Just for a few days, I'll need you to pretend."
Pretend, Bash thinks sadly. "Sure. I'll fly out in the morning. A-Are you okay? Sleeping well?" He has no right to ask how she's doing, that's a husband's duty to ask but the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them and he hears a sob escape her lips.
"God no," she breathes out shakily and truthfully. "Thanks for asking."
He can hear the smile in her voice as he smiles too. "Same here." Then he steps over the line a little. "Anxiety attacks?"
Kenna sighs. "You know me well," she croaks out. "Nightmares?"
"The lot of them. They're getting more vivid," he replies softly. "I had to be told to breathe because I was holding my breath tonight."
"Are you okay?" She asks, the pitch of her voice increasing with worry. "Should I come... over..." Then it dawns on them both. "Sorry, nevermind. A-Are you good now though?"
He nods, shifting so he lays his head back on the pillow. "I am."
"Bash," she starts carefully.
"Kenna."
"I have no right to ask you for this but... I just need to hear you," she tells him brokenly.
He hangs up and starts video calling her. He gives her a wry smile when she picks up. "How about both?" Hearing and seeing me.
Her eyes light up and it stirs something warm and hopeful inside him as she drags her hand across her cheeks. She's not looking entirely glamourous but she's still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Even on her 'fuck it' days, she's still a stunner.
Setting her phone on the bedside table, she lays her head down on her pillow and stares at him. "Almost as if you're here," she whispers.
He sets his own phone on the bedside table, turning on his side to look at her. "Goodnight, Kenna."
"Goodnight, Bash," she replies softly.
Neither makes any moves to fall asleep first but eventually, Bash wins as Kenna starts snoring softly, ever the elegant lady she is even asleep. He smiles a little and falls asleep himself, waking up in the morning to find his phone battery dead and his screen blank, his wife's image imprinted in his mind.