There's an extra bounce in my step today.
Everyone around me at work is just as energetic; at least, they look it to me. The day of the holiday party always puts all of us in a good mood. For starters, we close at noon; a paid half-day to go home and pack our bags. Afterwards, most, if not all of us go to a hotel that the Company pays for 50% of your room and get ready, meet up with friends, have a drink at the bar, and so on. From there, a shuttle bus picks us up in batches and we go to this beautiful, historical mansion that has been converted into a party venue, consisting of three floors housing carving stations, chocolate fountains, a large dance floor, and top shelf liquor.
It's a night that everyone, from the mailroom staff to the retired partners, cut completely loose. This year, with Damien Shields' retirement and Darien's arrival, they've managed to take the party up a level further: a full blown martini bar.
I look at the clock on the computer and smile broadly when I see that it is 11:45. Seiya, who is officially on winter break, is driving the kids up to stay with my Mother for the weekend. It's the one weekend we take advantage of having a kid-free home. We spend the night at the hotel, go out for a quiet breakfast the next day, and go Christmas shopping the following afternoon. It's a nice tradition we've established over the last six years.
I feel my smile slightly falter as I staple my report. Seiya did not look too thrilled this morning when packing the kids up in the car. To say he's been off more-so than usual lately is an understatement. He seems miserable, and he won't tell me why. I purse my lips and let out a slow breath when I think about how I tried asking him the other night, only to receive a cold shoulder and an icy response. Clearly, he is going through something. Why he won't tell me, I can't figure out for the life of me.
This party is coming at the right time. Maybe a night away from our responsibilities and our routine will give him the jolt I think he needs. After all, it's not just me who gets exhausted from our everyday jobs. He works hard, he has his fair share of household tasks, he takes care of our kids, too. It would be unfair to say he has it easy, when I know he doesn't. With his winter break here as well, maybe he'll perk up and become the Seiya that is my man, my husband; not this empty vessel who has recently replaced him.
"Delivery!" Neph, the interoffice courier, interrupts my thoughts as he holds up a dark-gray garment bag. I look over at the bag and squeal, my floor length Rent The Runway dress currently protected by the beat-up gray fabric of the industrial-strength bag.
"Yay! Thank you!" I exclaim in excitement as I take the bag from Neph. He wiggles his eyebrows as he darts his eyes to the bag.
"So, tell me, tell me," he gushes as he fishes for details.
"It's a Chiara Boni," I begin, and I start to smirk as he lets out a wishful sigh, "mermaid style, all black with lace on top that wraps to mid-back."
"Mermaid style? Damn, girl," he whistles.
"I guess it has some type of body shaper built in so your curves really enhance, which, I need," I giggle as I spin my chair, holding on to the designer gown like it was my child. "It was $140 to rent, so it better be beautiful."
"Mmm, for Chiara Boni, that's a steal. I can't wait to see it."
"What are you wearing," I ask him, Neph's excitement infectious as he describes his outfit, consisting of a burgundy velvet jacket, silk lapels, and a paisley pocket square. His vision screams "Nephrite," one of the kindest, gentlest, and fashion-savvy people I know.
And, he's not gay. In fact, he's married with two kids to one of the sweetest women I have ever met.
"Is Molly coming tonight?" I ask, receiving a vigorous head nod in response.
"Yup. She rented a dress as well, but I believe it's cocktail length."
"I'm excited to see her tonight! It's been a while," I reply, thinking of the petite brunette, who happens to be the Chief Financial Officer to a local accounting firm.
"She is really looking forward to tonight; she's been slammed at work lately and is looking forward to a night out," he responds with tenderness.
My eyes glance to the clock, grinning again when I see it's five minutes to noon. "I gotta wrap this up so I can get out of here, so I'll see you tonight?" I interject, breaking our conversation. He nods his head, bids a see-ya, and heads through the remainder of the cubicles dropping off packages and more garment bags.
Man, whoever invented is a freaking genius. I see at least 20 dress bags on his cart. They must make a killing this time of year.
Placing my bag lovingly over my cubby wall, I dive back into the final paragraphs of my project, satisfied when I've reached the end of the 75-page document. Just as I am about to shut down, a shadow hovers over my screen. I tilt my head back, assuming it's Neph, only to feel my cheeks tint when it turns out it's Darien.
"Your dress for tonight?" he asks as he looks at the garment bag.
I nod. "Yeah, just got dropped off about 15 minutes ago."
He nods back. "Very nice. So, you'll be there tonight then."
"Absolutely. I'm on the planning committee, so I'm actually going to be giving out the gifts tonight."
"Oh, I had no idea," he responds. "So, you're partially responsible for the martini bar tonight?" he teases with a grin, his brilliant white teeth peeking out underneath the curl of his lip.
I throw up my hands in mock-surrender. "Guilty."
He laughs, and my heart begins to pound at the exquisite, deep sound. "Nice, nice," he repeats. "Well, I will see you there, then?"
"You bet. Is there anything you need before I take off?" I ask, making sure I'm in the clear to leave for the day.
"Nah, go get ready. I'll see you tonight," he grins once more before leaving my workstation. My smile remains long after he leaves, through shutting my computer down and gathering up my coat and purse. I don't think Darien has ever come over to my work area to have a conversation outside of work-related needs. Despite it being short and to the point, it was, nonetheless, a conversation.
A step towards trust? Friendship, even? Even though I feel my cheeks burn slightly, I push the other feeling aside and focus more on the excitement of getting ready for a fun evening tonight. But as I grab my bag, I can't help but wonder;
Will Darien like this dress?
#
I'm in our room packing our overnight bag when I hear Seiya pull into the driveway. I peek out the window, smiling, trying to redirect any and all thoughts of Darien Shields and channeling them into spending a much-needed night away with my husband. It appears he's wrapping up a call, so I move on, placing our folded-up pajamas into the suitcase currently on our bed. Mechanically, I move over to my dresser and begin to gather up make-up essentials, daydreaming of different looks I hope to achieve with my eyeshadow. After all, Pinterest is an amazing guide, and I found a tutorial on how to create a ruby smoky-eye that I am eager to test out.
The door closing downstairs pulls me out of my thoughts, accompanied by the shuffle of feet up the stairwell. Seiya emerges in our doorway, appearing none too happy, much to my dismay.
"Everything okay?" I ask as I drop my makeup into a cosmetic bag.
He sighs. "Yeah, I just have a headache."
I frown. "Do you want me to make you a cup of coffee?" I ask, thinking maybe he needs a jolt of caffeine.
"No, I'll be fine," he sighs again before laying down on the bed. He crosses his arm over his eyes and stretches out, silence filling the room briefly before he inquires about what time we are leaving.
"I'd like to leave by 3:00 to get checked in. I need to be dressed and ready to leave the hotel by 6."
"But I thought the party doesn't begin until 7?" he counters, and I frown.
"Remember, I'm on the planning committee this year?" I remind him.
"Oh, right." He rolls onto his side, his eyes still closed, and I resume packing.
"Do you know which suit you want to bring?" I ask after about five minutes of silence.
"Um, the black one," he mumbles.
"Shirt color?"
"Whatever you think looks good," he defaults to me. Pursing my lips at the color choices, I choose the red one and a slim, black tie, thinking how his shirt will complement my eye makeup. Little pops of red for the holidays. I grin at the choice and place them gently on the bed before rustling through his drawers, grabbing his necessities. After about 15 more minutes of packing, I zip up the bag and place his suit in my garment bag before I proceed to wake Seiya up from his doze.
"Hey, come on, time to leave," I say with a gentle shake. He mumbles something and flops over. I shake my head and bring our bags downstairs, placing them at the kitchen table by the back door. Giving him a few minutes to emerge, I begin going around the house and making sure everything is turned off, knowing we won't be back until later the next day. When 5 minutes go by and he hasn't come down, I call the same message up the stairwell to him.
Silence.
My shoulders drop in annoyance. I ascend the stairwell and make the way to our bedroom, where Seiya is still napping. Annoyed, I shake at him harder, hardly feeling bad when he lets out a grunt that sounds quite similar to the word 'what.'
"Can we go now? You can finish your nap at the hotel," I state, annoyance definitely carrying in my words. I stare at him as he begins to shift, lifting himself up from the bed into a seated position.
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles as he begins to show signs of life, and I am satisfied enough that I make my way downstairs and to the coat closet. I slip on my charcoal pea coat, the nicer of my two winter jackets, and begin to slip on my gloves when I hear him shuffle down the stairwell slowly. He rubs his hands over his face, as if he's wiping off signs of fatigue.
"Why are you so tired?" I ask as I slide on the second glove. He shrugs his shoulders, like it's enough of an answer. I follow him down the hallway, watching as he slips his jacket on that he left on top of the chair from when he arrived home earlier. "Is everything okay?" I ask again.
"Why do you keep asking if everything is okay? I told you, I'm fine," he snaps. I roll my eyes at the response.
"Clearly, you're not, otherwise you wouldn't be so freaking short with me lately," I retort, and I watch as his eyes widen slightly, like I'm starting to unveil some sort of truth. We stare at one another for a moment, his mouth opening slightly, before it snaps shut.
"Let's just go," he finally says as he tears his stare away, grabbing the bags and carrying them towards the back door. I watch as he passes me and goes into the garage to load the car, but I can't help but wonder what he's holding back.
What isn't he telling me?
#
I hit pause on the YouTube video to slide my eyeliner against my waterline. Stepping back from the mirror, I grin when I see that I have somewhat successfully replicated a shimmery, ruby red smoky eye. The eyeliner I recently picked up, a liquid liner complete with a winged stamp on the end, completely nailed this look. Lord knows it would take me at least 4 hours to attempt to do symmetrical wings. Oh, who am I kidding? I likely would have never been able to do it.
Nodding to myself that my eyes are all set, I begin to take out the old-school curlers I have pinned in my hair, allowing the soft ringlets to fall around my face. Once I pull all the rollers out, I begin to comb my hair back before pulling my hair off to the side. Once in place, I take some bobbypins and begin to pin at the curls, framing them in place so I have a little height to my crown, but soft curls falling over my shoulder. Once I feel my look is somewhat in place, I begin to spray hairspray like a madwoman, hoping that my hair cooperates through at least half of the night. When the aerosol cloud disappears, I look back to my reflection once more, and the vision I had hoped and planned for weeks has actually come to life.
As much as I want to giggle and squeal, I channel my energy into applying my lipcolor, opting to go with a tinted shimmery gloss. Feeling confident, I step out of the bathroom in a strapless bra and my thong and check on Seiya. Of course, as I should have expected, he is laying on the bed in his suit pants and undershirt, aimlessly flipping through the channels on the television.
"I should be ready to leave in fifteen minutes," I call to him softly, hoping that he'll look up and notice the effort I've put in to myself.
"'kay," he responds, his eyes still boring holes into the flatscreen. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to not allow myself get upset, before I retreat to the bathroom once more. Not even a look. He couldn't tear his eyes away for the TV to even look up. I swallow hard, shaking my head, repeating to myself that I'm not going to let his sour attitude ruin my mood.
Still, hearing something, even a 'you look nice,' would have been more than enough.
Turning to the garment bag, I unzip the flap, revealing the dress I have been daydreaming of since I placed the order for it weeks ago. I allow it to fall to the ground before stepping into it, lifting it over my curves and shuffling into the sleeves. Using the mirror, I fix the boat-lined neck, the lace hugging my shoulders while fusing with the cap sleeves. Once I feel the sleeves are set, I pull at the ruching, adjusting the areas that I feel are more of my trouble zone.
Pleased with the dress, I walk out of the bathroom and slip on my favorite black pumps, knowing I'll be on my feet all night. I make my way over to the full length mirror and scrutinize my appearance, sliding my hands down my sides and my stomach, suddenly feeling concerned the dress might be too fitted for my mom-bod.
"Do I look okay?" I finally ask Seiya, turning to him for his opinion. He tosses a look to me before turning back to ESPN.
"Yeah, you look fine," he says. "You ready?"
I press my lips together tightly, wanting to say more, ask what the hell is wrong with him. But, for the sake of the evening, I bite my emotions back. "Yeah," I croak while reaching for my coat, feeling myself fail at holding back my feelings. What's worse, he doesn't notice; instead, he shuffles off of the bed and slides his suitcoat and jacket on before putting on his loafers.
We make the descent to the lobby in silence. As the elevator takes us down, I can't help but reminisce about years prior. Even last year at this time we got a little frisky before going to the party. He was always so excited to come to this event and have a fun night out. What on Earth happened from last year to today? When did we become so lifeless to each other?
I go to open my mouth to say something, but the elevator dings its arrival on the first floor. Swallowing my words yet again, we step into the lobby, familiar faces conjuring in the open area. I slip on the mask, and so does Seiya, because suddenly we've transformed into a whole different dynamic, saying our hellos to acquaintances we've familiarized ourselves with throughout the years of my employment. I spot Lita, who is currently sipping a glass of white wine, standing next to one of the paralegals in her department, Ken. I'm about to go over and say hi when I watch her place a hand gently on his upper arm, and I suddenly see sirens going off to stay away. Clearly, she's in flirting mode, which I'm glad to see ever since Amy ended their relationship. Lita was pretty down about it, but Amy wasn't comfortable dating a coworker. Completely understandable, but still, Lita was nursing her feelings about it for a few weeks.
The shuttle bus arrives within ten minutes, and about 75 of us shuffle into the blue and gray clothed seats. The bus is buzzing with conversation, everyone excited about the luxurious evening we're about to embark on. I keep a polite smile on my face, but inside, I feel my heart clenching. Seiya is once again silent, his head tilted down as he scrolls through his phone. I can't help but look around at all the couples, talking, laughing, giving each other subtle touches or holding hands.
I look down at my own lap, trying to push aside the swirl of emotions building inside. I know if I ask him to put his phone away, he will respond with some sort of snarky answer. I also know that if I try and attempt to hold his hand or touch him, he won't respond to it at all. So, I leave my hands folded in my lap and stare at the red polish on my fingers, scrutinizing the poor job I did around my cuticles, when I feel the bus come to a stop and turn slowly into a circular driveway.
Every time I see this venue, I can't help but drink it in. Constructed entirely of bricks, the former mansion, located on the east side of Seattle, was built in 1906 by its original owners as a wedding gift. The Denny Mansion, as its been renamed, has a warm and welcoming ambience with intricate and details throughout, that features a gorgeous mahogany staircase in the Grand Hall, a Grand Piano in the Parlor, multi-faceted crystal chandeliers, and handcrafted furniture by fine craftsman woodworking. All rooms adjoin with perfect ease of flow, allowing for people to mingle and graze with ease. The firm has hosted its annual holiday party here for the last 15 years; while normally parties will rent one or two of the rooms for an event, the Partners actually reserve the entire building.
The perk of being the attorney's for the owners of the mansion.
We shuffle off of the bus into the chilly night, making our way up the stairwell and into the grand foyer. I am immediately in awe, round tables cloaked in tiffany-blue draperies, tall vase centerpieces filled with white and blue flowers, and white cushioned chairs filling the dining room to the left. Off to the right, I see the dance floor, the chambray wood detail of the floor popping off of the DJ's swirls of rainbow lighting. Surrounding us in the grand foyer is strung lights, twinkling above us, intertwined with frosted silver garland. The decorating committee dreamt up a winter wonderland, and they surpassed any expectations I had.
I pass my coat off to the coat-check clerk, pick up my nametag, and relay to Seiya that I need to meet with the planning committee. He nods, spotting the bar off in the distance, and we separate with no more than a "I'll be back soon." Not that he could care. In fact, when I turn around, I spot him at the bar talking to the bartender, smiling at her as she fills up his drink.
I scowl; he couldn't even smile at me today, but he could a perfect stranger.
I collect my thoughts and move on, meeting up with my group to discuss my role for the evening. Andrew from HR, Cara from Printing, and Erin from Marketing are in the back parlor, where boxes of Tiffany gifts are stacked on couches and envelopes are labeled on the tables.
"Hey guys," I greet to the group. Each of them look up at me with warm reception, and I suddenly feel slightly better.
"Hey Serena, gorgeous dress," Cara greets immediately.
"Thanks!"
"Here are your cards," Andrew states as he passes them off to me. I flip through them, recipients of awards for the year printed out under each category for ease of announcement. I nod as I continue to scan them.
"Which gifts are which?" I inquire as I look over. Erin begins to point at each object.
"The desk clocks are in this oblong box, the decanters are in this box, and the watches for the Partners are in this box," Erin lists in order of monetary value. I let out a whistle of appreciation and envy.
"Tiffany watches? Very nice."
"Yes; there should be four. One for Damien, one for Terry, one for Eric, and one for Darien," she lists, once again, robotically. I feel my cheeks stain slightly at the mention of Darien, but I mentally shake the feeling away.
"Okay, got it. When are we doing the announcements?"
"Right before dinner, so be back here in an hour, everyone?" Erin announces, the group nodding before breaking for a drink. I immediately make my way to the bar, eager as hell for a martini. While I knew all along I would be making announcements into the microphone after the Partners complete their brief introduction, the thought of public speaking makes me slightly nervous.
I make my way to the black-cloaked bar and stare at the specially crafted martini list that's displayed behind the bartender. In all honesty, most of them sound like they could be delicious, but extremely sweet. Personally, I'm a straight-up martini kind of girl; the dryer, the better. And with Gin, not vodka.
The bartender makes his way to me, inquiring which drink I would like. I mull a second longer, thinking of going for the grape and champagne combo, but instead opt to go with a classic. "I'll take a gin martini, straight up, with a twist," I reply. The bartender raises his eyebrow at me slightly.
"You don't want to try one of our craft martinis?" he inquires, as if he didn't hear me right.
"No, straight up, please," I repeat. I know I'm female, but hey, I like my drinks to get right to the point. Hard liquor, with more alcohol, and light on the flavor. Tonight especially calls for hard liquor, not froofy, jazzed up drinks.
"Coming right up," he replies, and I watch as he goes to work dumping gin and vermouth into the shaker. As I watch him make my drink, I feel a hand gently tap my shoulder. I look up, half expecting to see Seiya, only to be completely surprised when I realize it's Darien hovering over me.
"Oh, hi," I stammer as I turn to face him. God, could he look any more sexy? I can't help but marvel at his tuxedo, exquisitely cut and a perfect match for his suave manners. Rich in black, the color rivals the deep shade of his hair, while a brilliant white tuxedo shirt beneath the cuts of the jacket stands out. He completes his look with a crimson red bowtie, a welcomed pop of color that accented the richness of his outfit. If I hadn't thought he was handsome before, this moment would have challenged any and all prior reservations.
"What's on the menu tonight?" he asked as he slips his hands into his pocket, reading the board of the crafted martinis.
"A lot of fruity martinis," I stammer out, very aware of how close his body is to mine as more patrons begin to crowd the bar.
The bartender returns with my drink, placing it in front of me while asking Darien what he wants.
"Uhm, can I do a gin martini, straight up with a twist?" The bartender frowns once again.
"You don't want to try one of our craft martinis?" he asks, looking at me like I put him up to this.
"No, I'm not big into fruit-flavored drinks. Straight up, with a twist," he reiterates as he pulls out a crisp twenty. The bartender immediately silences, shuffles over to the bar, and begins shaking up Darien's cocktail. I turn back to him, my drink in hand.
"He asked me the same thing," I mused lift my drink from the bartop.
"What, you didn't go for the mixed ones?"
I shake my head. "No, I'm not much a crafted cocktail kind of girl."
Darien smiles as he nods. "Really? I would have suspected otherwise."
I shrug. "Yeah, well, when you live my life, you want your alcohol served up immediately, and strong," I say as I take go to take a sip, only for my eyes to widen at the revelation of what I just said. Fuck.
"Uh, excuse me," I quickly state, shuffling away from him in embarrassment. Who am I to say my woes to him? Why on earth would I say something so stupid? Shit, I hadn't even had a sip of my drink yet!
I groan as I locate Seiya, sitting alone, completely sullen as he sips at his beer. As if this night couldn't get any worse, I have grumpy pants over here. Rolling my eyes at his unapproachable demeanor, I make my way to the table and sit down next to him.
"All set?" he asks lamentably. I nod a quick yes before I take sip of my martini. Damn, it's good.
"When do you go back up?" he inquires.
"45 minutes. Right before dinner," I answer while taking in another sip. Silence fills the void between us yet again.
A few more sips in, I can feel the strength of the alcohol working. I feel slightly more relaxed, not at all nervous about reading off the gift list, but my irritation with Seiya is amplified. He continues to lean back against the chair, slowly drinking his Mic Ultra, staring off into the crowd. When a few more moments of repetitive silence pass, I finally feel my tongue break out of its original hold.
"Are you going to just sit there miserable all night?" I ask none too kindly, calling him out for his poor attitude. He glances a nasty side-eye at me, as if he's trying to tell me to back off, but I'm not about it. "Lord knows if I acted like this at your work party you'd give me shit."
"Whatever," he answers, as if that's going to have me calm down. My eyebrows snap, my anger percolating, as he mechanically lifts his beer up to his lips once again.
"No, seriously, what the hell is with you? You're moody, pissy, and not giving one hell of a damned effort to even try like you want to have a good time," I state as I square my shoulders towards him. I've spent too much time and effort tonight to not have a good night, and if calling him on his bullshit means he'll give me a change of attitude, I'm willing to face brief public humiliation of arguing with my spouse in front of my colleagues.
Unfortunately, Seiya is not about that. "Can we not do this here?" he grumbles, standing up hastily. My eyes follow him as he walks towards the doorway, and in haste I stand up and follow him. We maneuver through the crowd and towards the back doorway, where I see him step out into the chilly air. I follow, despite that the air bites at my shoulders.
"Why on earth are we outside?" I ask as I wrap my hands around my forearms in an attempt to keep warm.
"Because I'm not making a scene in there," he snaps. "For fuck sake, I don't even want to be here."
I stagger slightly. "What? Since when?" I ask. "You've always liked this party."
"Yeah, well, I don't want to fucking be here this year, okay?" he replies frostily. I feel my heart constrict in disappointment, but I force myself to stand strong.
"Then why did you say you would come? Why did you drive the kids up? You have a voice, fucking use it."
He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, 'cuz that would go over so well."
"Fuck you," I spit at him. "You don't know how I would react."
"Don't I? You'd piss and moan, saying how important it is I be there. So rather than deal with your nagging, I didn't bother. I'm here, aren't I?"
"If I knew you'd be like this, I wouldn't have wanted you to come," I retort, despite knowing what he's saying is partially true. "You're my husband, you're supposed to come to these things!"
"God, Serena," he dramatically states with his hands up in the air, clenching the air like he's trying to hold on to something. "The last thing I need right now is for you to be fighting with me right now."
"Me? Fighting with you? God, Seiya, this argument is more words than we've said to each other in months!" I cry, throwing my own arms up in exaggeration. "I'm sick of this!"
"Yeah, well, me too," he counters. "I'm fucking tired of pretending to be happy when we both know neither of us are!" he shouts.
My mouth opens to respond, but it just continues to hang while my eyes go as wide as saucers. The heat from the anger begins to subside, but numbness moves in. I'm literally paralyzed from his declaration, unable to counter, to say anything that could confirm or deny words that he must have been hanging on to for so long.
Clearly, he's just as surprised as I am, as he suddenly shuffles his feet and runs his fingers through his hair. "Ah, listen, I'm gonna...I'm gonna catch a cab or something. Just, bring the home car tomorrow."
I nod dumbly, my stare still on him, despite that he can't face me. He brushes past me to go inside in haste, his head hanging low, and I continue to watch him until he disappears into crowd.
I continue to stand for a few more moments, knowing I have to go inside and do my job. I press my lips together and squeeze my hands into a fist, as if that's going to somehow calm the blaze of feelings inside of me that I can't seem to control. I'm angry; furious. Confused. Shocked. Sad.
But, oddly, relieved that one of us finally said it.
I dip my head and nod to myself before I take in a deep breath.
He's right. We are miserable.
#
It's only 8:25 when I retrieve my coat, the first shuttle back to the hotel due at 8:30. Obviously, I am not in the mood for mingling and would rather put this entire evening to bed. Part of me wants to go home and have it out with Seiya, but I know that a night apart to clear our heads and regroup in the morning is the more responsible thing to do. So, I opt to stay at the hotel and take the night away from him to strategize how to best approach this in the morning.
I step outside in to the winter's night, the bus's door open, beckoning to bring me away from the space filled with happy, jolly party-goers. I step into the warmed vessel, my head dipped low, and take a lonely seat in the front row.
The bus closes its doors shortly after I'm seated and pulls out into the main road. Continuing my downcast stare, I feel myself look up upon hearing a familiar voice.
"Are you okay?"
Concern etched in his deep blue eyes, Darien shifts up a few rows towards me. I give him a weak smile, not really trusting my voice, nodding my head in confirmation. But, he's not buying it. He urges again.
"Are you sure?"
"I'll be fine," I say in a voice that's barely above a whisper. I welcome the silence that grows between us, but it doesn't last.
"How come you're leaving early?" he inquires. I shrug.
"Not really in much of a partying mood," I say a little louder, attempting to sturdy my voice as I speak.
"Oh. Where is your husband?" he asks, and I wince at the question.
"He left."
"What do you mean, 'he left'?" he says in a tone that is a mix of surprise and appall.
"I mean," I state coldly, "he left. Decided to go home."
"Oh," he responds, and he pauses like he wants to say more. "I'm, I'm sorry."
I clench my jaw, wanting to spill my feelings out, especially when Darien looks at me with such a tenderness that I haven't seen a man look at me with in years. I want to tell him how Seiya's confession is throwing my emotions into turmoil, how I don't know what feeling I am honestly experiencing, how I'm terrified to think he means a divorce, but more terrified that I'm glad that the elephant between us is finally exposed.
But, I don't want to talk about Seiya.
I swallow the swirling statements in my mind, and instead refocus on the oddity in front of me. "So, why are you on the bus?"
Darien shrugs, as if it's no big deal for a Partner to be leaving a party that technically, he's paying for. "I hate these things. Getting chummy over cocktails around people I already have to see everyday? I only show up because I have to."
"That's… surprising," I respond with genuine interest. "I would have assumed you would enjoy such events."
Now he looks intrigued. "Oh really? Why?"
I shrug. "A great time to talk about work matters with people outside our department?"
He shakes his head. "If it's important enough to talk about here, they should see me at work. I'm really big about work-life balance."
I scoff. "What?" he replies, calling me out on my unsubtle disbelief.
"You took away my flex-scheduling. I hardly count that as valuing work-life balance," I counter, despite the fact that this statement could very well get me in hot water. After all, he's my boss. He has complete control over my future with this company. But right now, despite my earlier confusion, I know at least one feeling I am nursing, and it's hurt.
Darien, however, surprises me with his response. "Yeah, I did. Haven't you noticed since I revoked it, you're out the door by 5, not 7:30?"
"Well, yeah…"
"I'm pretty sure I overheard you telling the brown-haired girl, what's her name, uh, Lydia—"
"—Lita."
"Yes, Lita, that you have sitter that handles all your scheduling conflicts?" he states matter-of-factly.
I sigh. "Yeah"
He smiles. "You can't honestly tell me it's been that bad, has it?"
I pout. "No."
He leans back, as if he's satisfied. "See?
"Okay, okay, you're right," I relinquish, a smile creeping across my face for the first time in a few hours.
"There's that smile." I blush as he calls me out, but try to giggle it away as I look down. A comfortable silence takes us the rest of the way to the hotel, and I find myself feeling a little better. We both give our thanks to the driver before making our way into the hotel.
"Are you staying here?" I inquire out of curiosity.
"Yeah, I figured I might as well. You?"
I nod in response. "Yeah." As we enter the lobby, I find myself not wanting to return to my hotel room alone. After all, it's only 8:45, and knowing myself, I'll just lay there and sulk in misery.
"Um," I suddenly say with total nervousness, "do you want to, uh, have a drink with me?" I can see surprise cloak Darien like a cape, so I continue.
"I just… I don't really want to be alone right now."
A/N: You guyyyyys, you're seriously, SERIOUSLY picked me up out of my funk. I am eternally grateful! All the comments, tumblr messages, and words of encouragement really made me feel so so so much better.
I don't know how to express how thankful I am, outside of gushing, then writing an eleven-page (6,386 word to be exact) chapter that is beginning to kick up the heat!
And I know I'm repeating myself, but thank you again for your reviews and comments. Let me know how you liked this chapter! And, I love suggestions! Please please please, if I'm missing some details (I know I got a request for more family scenes, as well as description of Elsie's appearance), please don't be shy!