Iris had just applied the second coat of nail polish to her toes when her phone, which was on the charger on the other side of the room, started to ring.

She pushed herself up onto her feet, toes flared out like a duck's. With meticulous care, she waddled her way over to her phone, careful not to smudge her bright pink polish.

By the time she'd made it over, she'd missed the call, which she then saw Barry had initiated. She picked up the phone to call him back, but he beat her to it.

Iris swiped the dialer screen to the right, then put him on speaker phone."Hey babe, sorry I missed your call. My nails are wet."

"Oh, you painted your nails?" He asked, voice filled with dread.

Iris turned up her face, given the topic at hand. "Yeah. I also picked out a very special 'after dinner' outfit for the man I love," she said, adoration returning to her tone. "Are you ready for our romantic evening?"

There was no immediate answer on his end, followed by a slow, churning, "Not quite."

Okay. Something was definitely wrong. "What's going on? Do you not want to spend the evening together?"

"Of course I do. I'm just going to be a little late," he said, voice uncharacteristically low.

"Okay, well, why are you whispering?"

There was a pause in the conversation. She narrowed her gaze, overcome with unwelcome suspicion. Are you with Patty?" She barely raised her voice, but the implied accusation was deafening.

"Yes, but it's not like that," he said, attempting to head off this conflict.

"Then how is it?" She asked, hand perched on her hips as if he could see her.

"It's a long story."

"Well, I am all ears," she said, an agonized frown marring her previously unlined face.

Barry's heavy sigh, which only increased the agitation she already felt, preceded his recounting of events about how Captain David had thrown a wrench in his plans.

From her angle, his story seemed completely plausible, not that it made her feel any better about having to prolong their evening together. Worse, the more he talked, the more she was overcome with another negative emotion: that malignant guilt that always festered in her stomach every time she met up with Barry or her told her how much he loved her. Through ever dinner, every kiss, and touch.

"Please try to understand, it's completely innocent. She just needs to talk things out," is how he ended his explanation.

"Are you there, Iris?"

She'd zoned out somewhere in the middle. "Ye-yeah. I'm here," she said, voice curt.

"If you want me to leave, I will. But...she told me she can't sign the papers until she gets the closure she needs."

More like won't.

"Iris, sweetie, please talk to me."

Iris sighed, attempting to push down everything she was feeling. This was Barry, after all, the man she'd known for a lifetime. The man who, save for one mistake, had gone out of his way to show her how much she meant to him. The only person on the planet, besides her therapist, who she'd confided in deeply about Scott, though not even he knew everything. There was no way he'd do anything to mess up their relationship.

"I'm here, Barry," she said finally, voice tight. "I agree that you two should talk."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said, attempting to sound more believable. "You don't want to deal with what Scott and I are dealing with. If you can talk things out, then you should."

"That's my plan. Are you mad at me?"

"I'm definitely not happy, but I understand."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"I'll be over as soon as possible, okay?

"Well."

"Well what?"

"I also think," she said, slowly, giving herself time enough to decide if this is what she actually meant, "is that we should postpone our romantic evening."

"Why-why? I only need an hour. Two tops."

Iris raised a brow, mentally noting that he doubled his delay from one to two hours, hoping to never have to retrieve that tidbit for future arguments, then replied, "Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, if that's what you want, I won't fight you. But, I will make this up to you, okay?"

"I know you will."

"I love you so much," he said, voice raised to its normal level. Probably his way of trying to quiet that nagging voice in her head that was trying to doubt his love or respect for her.

That he didn't actually want to spend the night with her.

That anyone in the whole multiverse could ever compare to her.

"I love you too."

"Now are you sure that you don't want me to swing by later tonight?"

Iris thought for a moment. Some time with Barry would be better than no time, but honestly, the mood was already ruined, given that his last day at the RVPD, the event that was supposed to be him closer to her, and away from Patty, had someone turned into him having to spend the evening with his wife. "No, we can just start fresh tomorrow."

Barry let out a breath, thankful that, given everything, she thought that they still had a tomorrow.

"Every tomorrow?"

She could hear him smile through the phone. "Every tomorrow," she replied, her mouth curling into a balky smile.

The effect he had on her.

"I'll call you when I leave, okay?"

"You better," she nearly whined, before hanging up the phone.

With Barry gone, Iris sat her phone down and directed a wistful glance over to her closet door, where she'd hung her attire for the evening. So much for their romantic date.

Once her toes were dry, Iris changed out of the bathrobe she was in, into some jeans and a T-shirt, and headed down the stairs with her laptop.

Barry might have ruined their date night, but she was not going to sit around and sulk. She still had two off days ahead of her, and she was determined to enjoy them.

One way or another.

Just as she made it to the front door, Cecile peeked her head out from the top of the stairs."Oh, great. You're still here!"

Iris turned towards the woman's voice. "Yeah, Great," Iris said voice flat. "You need something?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," Cecile said, as she stepped down, revealing the blinding sequined mini-dress she was wearing. "What do you think?"

"Uh, you look A-MAZ-zing."

"Yes!" The other woman clapped, as she descended the stairs further. "I'm gonna be the hottest mom/stepmom at the party."

Iris laughed. "What party? And is my father going? Cause, he's gonna have a heart attack if you're looking this good without him."

Cecile's eyes sparkled at the compliment. "You think?" She said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other."

"Definitely."

"Well, Mr. West doesn't have to worry. Detective Monroe is having a big 70's themed retirement party, and I guess he can be my date."
Iris laughed. "Well, you look great. I'm sure you'll both have a great time."

"I hope so. Wait," Cecile said, finally noticing Iris's casual attire. "I thought you and Barry were…you know…hanging out tonight?"

"Not anymore. Something came up."

"At his job?"

"No, today was his last day."

"So it's not case related," Cecile said with a smile. "Or Patty related," she said brows arched.

Iris took in a wispy breath. "I didn't say that," she said, aggravation rising back up.

"So, he is with Patty?"

"Yeah, but it's not like that."

"Please, I know that," Cecile laughed. "That man is head over heels in love with you."

Usually, Iris would brush off those comments, but given that she was feeling a little insecure, having another person who'd observed Barry say those words felt good.

"Your love, his especially, is very loud and consuming." Cecile continued. "I, personally, knew about you two before you told me."

This was news to Iris. "Really?"

Cecile nodded. "From that very first day, you two came home. Not to mention, you might have been gone for five years, but I've been here most of that time.. And I saw what you leaving did to Barry. He's literally never been happier, in the time I've known him than he has been since you two reconnected."

"You think so?"

"I know so. So don't you worry. If I know Barry like I think I know him, he's only doing what he feels he has to. They're probably dealing with divorce stuff. It's a long, hard process."

"Trust me, I know."

A sudden frown warped Cecile's youthful features. "Oh honey. You're going to get through this, I know it. Scott can't—"

"Delay things forever, I know, I know." She didn't mean to cut Cecile off, but Scott Evans was the absolute last man she wanted to talk about right now.

"Well," Cecile said, shifting the discussion, "Do you want to hang around here, eat dinner with us?"

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I'm going to head to Jitters." Iris raised her laptop up. "Work on some pitches. Might as well do something productive."

Cecile's face lit up with approval. "Oh, so you are pushing forward with your writing?"

"Yeah, I think I'm finally ready."

"That's really great. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks."

Break

Iris West walked into Jitter's just after 8 pm and headed straight for her favorite booth in the corner. Jitter's stayed open until midnight, so she had plenty of time to brainstorm a few ideas before she had to head back home.

She still wasn't quite sure that she wanted to return to Picture News, even on a freelance basis. Working with Linda again would be fun, but that place housed too many memories of her time with Scott.

With him, the good memories hurt just as much as the bad ones, for they were proof of the fact that he was capable of treating her with kindness and respect.

Despite the man he'd revealed himself to be over the years, their relationship wasn't always all bad. Scott was always a little intense, but she admired that part of him. As her boss, he encouraged her, and pushed her as a writer. And it had been through many late nights at the office that they'd formed a romantic bond, one Iris knew pushed the rules of ethics, everything considered.

But she didn't know that man anymore. And she hadn't for a very long time.

That aside, she knew that she did know that she wanted to write again, in some capacity.

The closest she'd gotten to it since Scott chased her away from it was, ironically, editing some of his pieces, or teaching the writing class at the Keystone Women's Shelter.

But she needed to do more. To be more.

Thankfully, there was no shortage of things to write about. Now that she was free from his tyrannical control, she just had to find something to pique her interest.

Once seated, she opened her laptop and connected to the public wifi. One perk of working there was that she didn't have to ask for the password, which changed bi-weekly.

She split her screen on one side, which she used to pull up her web browser, and used the other half for Microsoft Word.

Just then, the night-shift waitress approached her table. "You know, you're the only employee who dares step foot here on her day off."

Iris smiled. "Hey to you too, Maya. And yeah, well. Jitter's coffee got me and my best friend," as odd as it felt to call Barry that, because he was so much more now, "through High School and college. After that too," she remembered fondly. "I guess it's special to me."

"Aww, you mean the tall, gangly dude who waits for you some nights when you get off, right?"

Iris stifled a laugh. "Hey, he's not that gangly! Anymore at least. But yeah. That's him."

Maya cocked her head to the side. "That's so cool that you guys are still friends after all these years. My childhood bestie blocked me on Facebook."

"Why?" Iris asked face scrunched up.

"Hell if I know."

"Don't feel bad, my wife blocked me on all of her social media too," called out a painfully familiar voice.

Eyes wide, Iris glanced past Maya, who'd also turned towards the voice. There stood Scott Evans.

Maya, who was unaware that this was Iris's vaguely referenced ex, laughed. "Okay, you definitely win, sir."

Scott flashed her a warm smile and extended his hand. "Scott."

"Maya," she said, shaking his hand in return.

Scott turned towards Iris. "Iris," he nodded.

"Ooh, this is your friend?" Maya asked, looking from Scott to Iris. When she noticed the stoned expression on Iris's face, she grew slightly concerned. "Earth to iris.?"

"Yes," Iris said weakly. It was the only answer she could jar loose.

The lines in Maya's forehead told Iris she wasn't wholly convinced, but she didn't push any further.

Iris looked around. The café was crowded. Hoping to prevent causing a scene, Iris flashed her a buoyant smile. "Maya, do you mind taking care of another table first? I'm not quite ready to order yet."

"No problem, Jake, that cute banker just walked in the doors," she said, salivating over the prospect of a hefty tip, "I'll be back shortly."

Iris nodded meekly, angry at herself for not taking advantage of Maya's presence. Now she was left to fend for herself, though she did take solace in the fact that they were in a public space.

Scott always did know how to play nice around others.

"Mind if I take a seat here?" Scott asked. He slanted a glance around the packed café. "There aren't many other tables around."

"Yes, I mind," She said, voice scored with derision.

That didn't deter him. Instead, he slid into the other side of the booth as if he hadn't heard her.

A guttural scoff followed. "Still no respect for my boundaries, huh?"

"Hey, I come in peace, Iris," he said, lifting his hands. Leaning forwards, voice low, "I never wanted any of this."

"Peace, like when you burst into my hotel room?"

"That was purely reactionary. One day I had a wife, and the next she was gone, along with a chunk of our savings. Any man would have reacted the same way."

"I can think of several men who wouldn't." Iris folded her arms across her chest.

Scott chuckled, a sinister glint migrating over the curls in his lips. It was gone just as fast. "One in particular, right?"

"What?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you've been in Central City three months, and it's time to come home.

Iris folded her arms across her chest. "Central City is my home."

"Your home is with your husband in Keystone."

"You might be my husband in the eyes of the law, but you're definitely not the man I thought I married. And by the way, we didn't have a home. We had a place to live. Filled with disrespect. And when I got a minute to myself, you crossed those boundaries too. Why the hell would I go back?"

Scott laughed. "It's a shame that you stopped writing. You could put those spinning skills to good use. I know I'm not perfect, but you make it sound like I was about to hit you or something."

Caution-to not let her anger consume her, to not tell Scott which corner of Hell he could go to, and most importantly, to not create a media storm slowed her response. Eventually, she replied, "I am well aware that words are your weapon of choice. Now, I am done here."

Scott narrowed his gaze. "So this is where we're at? You won't even talk to me. You left me after one argument."

"One argument?" Her voice crescendo with each syllable, and it incited a glance from the couple at the nearest table to her. Returning to her inside voice, she continued, "You mean one argument that week? That day? That hour? Arguing is all our life had become."

"Because you were ungrateful, and didn't know your place. Just like now. You think you're entitled to money that isn't yours. And I'm letting you know right now-

"My PLACE?" Iris cut him off. "Let me tell you something," she said raising a finger.

"Ahem. Iris. Ready to order?"

Shocked, Iris turned towards Maya, who'd returned. She let her scowl melt into a weak smile. "Actually, Maya, I think I'm going to be heading out. But thank you."

"Okay," she said, still unsure of what she'd walked back in on. "And for you, Scott?"

"Just a cup of water will be fine, thank you."

"Got it, coming right up."

"Oh, water. Must need to quench your thirst.?"

Scott laughed. "Wow, I'm thirsty? Me? The man who's just trying to talk to his wife? Even though she's trying to bleed me dry in court?"

"Me thinking I'm entitled to half of our money isn't me—.You know what, I am not doing this, you are not about to force me to talk to you" Iris said, closing her laptop, and stuffing it into her computer bag. "Especially not in relation to our case."

"I'm giving you a chance to drop our case," Scott spit back in a hushed yell. "To come home, and talk to me. Hell, talk to me here. Just think about coming back. We can work through our bullshit."

"Yeah, well. I don't miss you, or your bullshit. And I have no reason to drop a case that my attorney has assured me, I'd win."

"Oh has he?"

"Mhmm," Iris said, self-assured.

"Okay then," he said, nodding lips pinched. "Don't say I didn't give you a chance to avoid this."

"Oh, you're threatening me again?"

"Not at all baby girl. I just know that I have something that will persuade the judge in my favor."

"Please," Iris scoffed. "I was a damn good wife to you, for way longer than you deserved. So unless the judge is also a sexist asshole, I'm not worried."

Iris didn't wait for Scott to respond to gather her things. Just as she stood, Scott reached inside of his suit and pulled out a large photo of her and Barry, though his face was obstructed, stood on Joe's porch, kissing. He held it up in front of her face, with a wicked scowl. "Good wives don't have affairs."

Iris flopped back into her seat. Mouth cocked open, she tried to speak but was unable to make a coherent thought. Raging heat rose up to her cheeks, but not out of guilt or even embarrassment. She owed Scott absolutely nothing. It was fear and failure all wrapped up into one.

"Where did you get this?" She asked though it was obviously the work of a private investigator. This was the night that Barry had begged her to come home with him, but she'd declined. It was the dead of night, but the photo quality was crystal clear.

"I have eyes and ears everywhere. You should know that by now."

Iris shook her head to herself. It didn't matter that Scott had been a jerk to her over their marriage. Extramarital affairs landed just under physical abuse on the list of things divorce judges didn't tolerate. This was going to reflect negatively on her. A nervous laugh escaped from her throat. Her life really was a nightmare.

"I'm glad you think this is funny. Personally, I think it's hilarious. I'm not even angry that you're cheating on me. It's been, what, almost 10 months since we had sex? And trust me, I've gotten my fill," he smirked, "I'm angry that you picked this tall, skinny loser as my replacement. Like gotdamn. Where did you find him?"

Iris looked back up at Scott. Slight relief washed over her, though she didn't express it outwardly. If Scott wasn't naming the man by name, he didn't know it was Barry. Iris glanced back down at the photo just to be sure. Whoever he'd hired, obviously hadn't got a clear shot of Barry.
At least he wouldn't be pulled into this mess.

"Oh, so now you're speechless."

Just then, Maya returned with Scott's glass of water. "Water for one," the young woman replied.

"Thank you so much, Maya," he said, flashing her a charming smile. Iris was the only person in the world that new of the serpent that lived underneath.

The rock that sat in the place of his heart.

Alone again, Scott turned his attention back to Iris. "Oh, and Iris? I have plenty more photos of you and that string bean schmoozing it up, so you keep that one," he said, tapping it with his fingers. then Scott pulled a ten dollar bill out of his pocket and sat it on the table.

Iris remained silent. What could she say? Scott had won. Again.

Satisfied that he'd achieved what he'd come here for, Scott stood from the booth. Iris knew that she shouldn't give him the chance to shoot daggers at her, but she was not going to let the last image he saw of her this night be of some crestfallen woman. Pictures or not, she was much stronger than that. When she met his gaze, he was looking down at her, a wicked smirk on his face, as he stroked his beard.

"You know, the rule for moving on is to date up. Better than the man you had. A doctor. A lawyer. A Congressman. Hell, I wouldn't even have been mad if you'd started thirsting after The Flash again. Deserving or not, at least he's made a name for himself."

He continued, "I mean, all that time writing him love letters disguised as news articles, and yet, you went for someone like…this. But then again, he would have had to want you in return. And I—"

"That is enough!" Iris said, voice elevated, drawing the attention of some of the patrons in Jitters, but she was far past the point of caring. "Take your picture, and get the fuck out of my face."

"Oh, struck a nerve huh?" He laughed, then adjusted his jacket. "Don't worry, I wish you'd gone that route too. That would've been one Flash story worth writing about."

No sooner than he'd said those words, he was gone.

But only in body, for his parting words left a lasting impression on her. They introduced that same, nauseating uneasiness that preceded the last time she and Barry hung out as friends, four years ago.

She and Scott had been married for a year, and cracks in their relationship, which she'd been trying to ignore, were becoming painfully noticeable.

The headstrong personality that had made him a formidable editor didn't translate well as a husband. Sure things were fine when he was happy, but when they argued, he handled her like he handled his employees. Listing off places he felt she didn't measure up, and expecting her to comply, no questions asked.

Add in the fact that Keystone's residents had been reporting more and more Flash sightings in the city, and things were becoming increasingly tense.
Iris was The Flash's main mouthpiece to the press in Central City, but she'd slowly phased out of writing about him. Which made sense, considering that Keystone was her home now. That the Flash had been popping up in Keystone so frequently, made Scott suspicious.

It was something that Iris should have anticipated, but it hadn't crossed her mind. By that point, Barry wasn't even visiting her as The Flash. Just as her friend. Even though Iris knew that she loved Barry as more than a friend,everything about the situation was completely innocent.

Well, everything but Scott's motives.

She never did get proof, but she was almost 100 percent certain he'd hire someone to follow her around.

One day, she'd hoped to find proof of his communications with a PI, only to come across Scott's browser history, which was filled with queries about The Flash. She first found searches like 'where did The Flash come from' and 'who is the flash.'

Most of what he came across were articles written by her—information her and Barry agreed on printing publicly. As she searched deeper, however, she found things like 'the flash's weaknesses' and 'meta humans who've injured the flash." Unfortunately, Scott returned back from lunch before she could finish scanning over the entire list. So she'd had to quickly close out of it, and pretend she hadn't seen it.

The next time she was able to access his laptop without him being there, his history had been cleared. She never saw any queries about how to kill the flash or anything like that—and nothing she knew about Scott said he'd go that far, but she was never able to shake the dread she felt of learning the depth of his hatred of her best friend.

What followed was a weekend of her tireless editing every single possibly identifiable source of information about Barry from her articles that she could find. Anything that could possibly be pieced back to him. Some entire articles got trashed, just because her archive was too large, and she hadn't the time.

At that time, she was still determined to make things work with Scott, though they had their problems. Flash hatred aside, he was the man she'd married. Besides, she was hoping that, over time, Scott would shed his skepticism about The Flash, so she could eventually let him in on the secret.

Until that happened, the only thing she could do to protect Barry was to put distance between them. Even after Iris got married, Barry was still a constant fixture in her life. They texted daily, talked on the phone weekly. They hung out when Iris was free, which was at least 3-4 times a month.

Canceling on Barry, leaving him on read and dodging his phone calls had been the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. But what hurt more than anything was when Barry stopped calling in return. He'd held out way longer than she did, but eventually he gave up on trying to spend time with her.

That Scott had hired someone to follow her again, to get dirt on her, to know that all of that sacrifice would end up being for nothing, it made her feel sick. Iris grabbed her stomach, which was twisting around in knots. It was only by a miracle that Barry hadn't used any speed that night the PI snapped those photos. Or that his face had been mostly obstructed.

God help them all if Scott ever found out that the man in the photos was not only Barry but The Flash.

"Whoever that guy was, he's not worth your tears, girl. You already have one asshole you're dealing with," Maya said, returning to the table, napkin in hand.

Iris glanced back up at the other woman. Slowly, she raised her other hand and touched her tear-stained face. She'd been so deep into her thoughts, she hadn't realized she was crying. "Thanks Maya, she sniffed," retrieving the napkin from her hand."

"You sure you don't want to order anything? It's on the house."

"No, I'm good. Really."

"Okay, well I'm here if you need me. She stuffed the money that Scott it into her pocket, and walked back out towards other customers.

With Maya gone, Iris saw her window to leave. Just as she balanced on two feet, it was like all of the stress, anger, and fear, that was radiating through her body, rocketed from the pit of her stomach, up towards her esophagus.

That uncomfortable internal vibration made itself known. Iris quickly covered her mouth and charged towards the bathroom.

She made it into the stall by the skin of her teeth. She dropped her bag onto the floor, and vomited up the contents of everything she'd eaten that day. She ran a shaky hand over her mouth, then hiked up her foot to flush the toilet. Utilizing the hot, disgusting tap water at her disposal, she leaned down to rinse her mouth out.

The only thing that could make this moment any worse, was exactly the thing that followed Iris's thought: the ringing of her phone. Before she even pulled it out, she knew that it was Barry. He was probably calling her to let her know that he'd left Patty.

She shook her head in silence. Just a couple of hours ago, she was worried about him meeting up with his wife. Possibly rekindling what they'd had.

Now she had a whole new set of problems.

Not at all ready for this conversation, she resigned her gaze up towards the cheap fluorescent lights of the bathroom. She thought about not answering, hopefully, to prolong the inevitable, but that would only cause him to look for her. And given that the PI had been staked at her father's home less than a week ago, it wasn't safe for him to use his speed right now.

Or ever again, where she was concerned.