Chapter Forty-Seven

You Already Know

''Don't be frightened, I say.

I love you, I say.

Nobody can hurt us, I say.''

''Eat.'' He ordered firmly, frustration coloring ends of letters, slanted dark eyes drilling into her. ''Please.''

Only half-hearing him, Blair merely shuffled pieces around the porcelain bowl, beautiful harmony of colors of fresh fruit escaping her notice. Her gaze pinned at the dish without seeing it. All her mind did was replay their encounter with Dan as they were leaving building this morning.

Her brother's dismaying word still echoed; How many women were there before you?

What did that suppose to mean? How did he know about... Elle? Because his speech and judging look certainly implied his awareness of the situation. If Blair herself didn't know about her until last night, how did he? Did anyone else know?

A sharp push of the chair across marble startled her and she glanced up, shaking out the revelry, only to see irritated Chuck glaring down at her.

''Since you're not eating.'' He hissed, fists on the table. ''We may as well get a move on and take care of the apartment.''

They barely talked since last night, careful to avoid any topic relating to that pregnant girl. Careful to avoid too long direct eye contact. It brought on too much pain, too many questions and rising doubts. Now, she blankly stared at him. Blair paused for a moment - a lethal moment - and rose graciously, taking her sweet time.

''Blair.'' He called out as she swiftly turned around to go, spotting her frown which was only a lit fuse leading to a nuclear bomb. He grabbed her elbow to face him and pressed her closer. ''You haven't eaten anything today and refuse to talk to me. I find it quite irritating.''

''Right now,'' With a sharp, but subtle movement, Blair yanked her arm out of his grip. ''You're the one irritating me. You feel guilty and you're taking it out on me. I know you better than I know myself, Chuck Bass.''

He merely stared at her as she walked away without him. Chuck straightened lapels of his blazer, making an effort to cool down his temper, and followed suit. He pulled up a palm to stop Arthur as they approached the limo, signaling he would open doors for his wife himself. His voice simmered down to a nearly pleasant note as he held them open; ''When would you like to look up the apartments?''

''After class.'' She clipped and slammed the doors, shutting him off and leaving him with his hand in the air where cold metal stood just moments ago.

The air in the limo was heavy and foreboding. Blair decidedly looked out the window because every glance at his face made her want to jump out of the moving car. Ever since last night, there grew a rift between them which they both seemed to successfully ignore. The maneuver appeared to be getting more difficult.

Suddenly, there was a steady hum of partition going up. Rolling her eyes, she turned to look at him in exasperation. The last thing on her mind right now was sex. They had used that tool last night to postpone dreadful talk about their situation.

''I'm sorry,'' He quietly spoke, looking at her under his eyelashes, playing with cuffs. ''This thing with Dan this morning, the way he treated you, it set me off.''

Carefully, as if giving her time to flinch back, he took her palm and kissed back of her hand affectionately. She said nothing while silently overwhelmed with his sentiment, her hand unresponsive to his tender squeezes.

''Everyone is staring at us,'' She muttered as soon as they stepped in the courtyard, aware of every head that sharply turned their way. It wasn't like before. It was something different. Immediately, as if guided by a higher force, their hands linked, showing off a strong front.

''Nothing new.'' He pretended not to care, but there was an alarm blasting at the back of his mind. They walked, one foot in front of the other, raised chins, as each of them pondered the whispers and pointing fingers.

''Chuck will be a great daddy!'' Somebody in the crowd of countless girls called out as they passed.

''And Blair a great, evil step-mother!'' Another added and a fit of high-pitched giggles ensued. Blair tried to distinguish them, but they were all the same - mass of trenchcoats and Burberry scarves.

''What?'' Blair gasped, nervously glancing around. ''How do they know? Oh my God, does everyone know!?''

''It's a modern fairytale; A Polygamous Cinderella.'' Someone replied, but by this point, it all became a blur of leering faces and sneering voices. The reputation which she so carefully re-built for past few months was starting to crumble. The foundation shook.

''Say that again,'' Chuck challenged loudly, the collected facade ripping at the seams. He took a threatening step towards the group, but Blair pulled him back immediately.

''Something must have happened.''

''I'll find out.'' He stated firmly, ominous anticipation starting to build up. ''You just go to class and ignore everyone, okay?''

''Don't worry about me.'' Blair shook her head, though obviously perturbed, clutching her books closer to herself. ''Keep out of trouble.''

''You're not going to like this.'' Serena took her rose iPhone out and scrolled for a moment or two with a deep-set frown on her glowing face. Wordlessly, she passed the phone to him.

''Nate and I wanted to tell you, but your phone was off,'' Blonde continued, biting her nails nervously, gouging his reaction. ''We couldn't reach you.''

At first, he didn't recognize the scene. It seemed like a finest work of photoshop. But there it was, an article with a picture of Chuck and Elle in the clinic, just the moment when she was about to fall and he held her up. Looking at it now, it looked like they were hugging, as if he was lovingly helping her out of the institution while they were happily attending doctor's appointment - young parents-to-be.

It was disgusting. It was morbid. An insult to his very own family he wanted to start with Blair.

''That was two days ago,'' Serena went on worriedly at his darkening expression. ''It was all over the papers too. That's how everyone knows.''

Just when they ran away to Hamptons, not even aware what had been going on in Manhattan. They breathed romance and love while a storm brewed in the west. Everyone knew. That meant his and Blair's family. Everyone at school, the whole New York, the whole goddamned world.

''Fuck,'' He spat, an anger fit seizing him momentarily at their damnation. All he saw was red and red and infinite red as future blurred, became vague and dangerous. As dream of his own family started to fade away, snatched by a pair of clawed hands. A hands which he had a fair idea of.

Elle dejectedly poked at a gluten-free chocolate cake that mother ordered for her. It tasted like styrofoam. ''He sounded really angry.''

''Listen to me now,'' Heather Pollock hissed, enjoying more attention of this luxury Upper East Side café than the food itself. She had been waiting for years in shadow, wilting in oblivion and falling to disgusting, boring middle class. But finally, their old glory was restored and boosted. All thanks to her limitless brains. ''Don't forget you're carrying an heir of Chuck Bass and his fortune. We have his family on our side. Don't underestimate yourself, not while we have the upper hand.''

''Mother,'' Elle sniveled, throwing a napkin on the table in frustration. ''He is married to another.''

''A marriage nobody approved of, set up in secrecy.'' Her mother smiled smugly, taking a sip of the green tea. ''More of a scandal, really. His father stopped financing him the moment he heard about it. How long do you think the newlyweds will last?''

Chuck Bass is never the one to make small entrances. As soon as he stepped foot on the polished tile, every eye was on him. Oblivious to the attention, or rather not caring for it, he marched across the restaurant with a vicious purpose. Elle savored the fierceness of his step, the highness of his holding and the mighty aura that surrounded him. For one night, he was hers, and she marveled at it.

''No paparazzi today?'' He snarkily began, unbuttoning his blazer with an impatient annoyance and took a seat without an invitation.

''Welcome,'' Heather Pollock began seemingly graciously, rolling her tongue across the cheek at the lack of respect. ''We were-''

''Elle,'' Chuck sighed as if he didn't hear a thing, focusing his attention solely on the young girl that currently held her head bowed down. ''I believe you owe me an explanation.''

''If you have a problem, have your PR manager deal with the press.'' Her mother replied instead, struggling to keep a cool demeanor in public. She subtly looked around, secretly pleased to know that everyone was looking their way.

Just look at them, future family, having brunch together.

''I thought we were going to be alone,'' He began more softly, deciding to play another card - gentleness. No woman could resist a drop of tenderness from a man that did nothing but reject her in the past. And for a moment, it seemed to work.

Elle raised her head in surprise, revealing an apologetic expression, just about to reply when another deferral came. ''Elizabeth is rather sensitive these days. I didn't appreciate the way you talked about her or the way you refused to answer her phone calls. That is why I insisted on accompanying my daughter.''

Only the clenching of his jaw did indicate how irritated he was right now and if one knew Chuck Bass, one would be afraid.

''What do you want, Elle?'' He demanded, quickly losing his patience.

''What kind of question is that?'' Her mother gasped in faux outrage.

''Can't she talk for herself?'' He snapped.

''You seem very upset,'' Elle finally noted, biting her lower lip, nervously glancing at her mother in alarm.

''You think? Don't you think I'm aware you let the press know too?'' He narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth as accusation revealed itself. ''That you set me up?''

''I'm sorry about the papers,'' The girl once again managed to weakly pipe up, ignoring mother's scolding gaze. This time, her words were accompanied with sincerity.

''Papers hurt us,'' Her mother put a hand over hers in a seemingly affectionate way, clutching it tightly. ''You shut stop with self-victimization. We didn't know you were married.''

''I didn't want to cause you any trouble with your wife,'' Her daughter added wincing, but Chuck wasn't to be fooled with her assumed naivety.

''Look,'' He leaned towards her and there was not a trace of romance in the gesture, as one would assume if watching the scene from afar. ''I'm making a great effort to keep in mind that you're pregnant. I don't trust you and I never did. I know this article is a scheme of yours.''

''Watch your tongue, young man-''

''I'm talking to your daughter here!'' Chuck growled like a feral animal, slamming his palm on the table so hard that porcelain rattled. Ladies gasped, looking at each other in alarm. What beast had they stirred? This was no prince charming as the media described him. Instead of white, the armor was black as a night. Instead of flowers, he held a sharpened sword at their throats.

''Say it openly if you need help until the delivery.'' He pinned his gaze on the alleged mother of his child, giving her an opening, throwing a bait.

There was a moment of silence and, confused, Elle looked at her mother in search for aid.

''How dare you?'' Mrs. Pollock hissed, staring down at him. ''You're bribing us to keep our mouth shut?''

''I'm simply inquiring about your intentions. What do you want from me, Elle? Why did you come last night?''

''I wanted to share pictures with you!'' She cried out in distress.

''We have nothing to share,'' He lashed out before leaving. ''Yesterday was the last time you came to my home, understood?''

''Why didn't we take the money?'' Elle asked in disbelief as they were left alone. ''We would have been fine until the delivery!''

''Shut up,'' Her mother hissed, struggling hard to keep her face composed as not to crease her face further. ''We don't need few thousands of dollars. We're in for millions. Eat your cake, darling.''

''Where are you?'' She whispered into the phone, scraping off baby food from her shoe with one of the napkins from nearby Starbucks. She heard a noise behind her and swiftly turned around, bracing for another attack. It was merely one of those fearless city pigeons, strutting around her feet, hungrily watching the orange stain of mashed carrot.

''I'm on my way,'' Chuck's voice said on the other line, the hidden urgency mirroring her own. ''Wait for me, I'll be there in five minutes.''

''No,'' She snapped, shooing away pigeon with her bag as it nipped at her flats. ''I'm going home.''

''Blair,'' He firmly spoke, irritation simmering. ''I'd like to take care of our apartment now.''

''Chuck,'' She hissed as the annoying flying pig merely spread its wings and returned for another nip. ''I nearly suffered a puree bomb on my head. I'm not spending another second in this hell.''

Her whisper suddenly quivered on the other end. ''I'll just take the bus home.''

The line went dead.

Chuck stared at the phone with rapid heart. For the first time in two years, after everything they've been through, she finally couldn't take it anymore. And it was all his fault.

The tight sound of ripping of the seams could be heard under the noise of traffic and rush hour. If he could only get the apartment, everything would be okay. They would be granted with a clean slate. The smell of new furniture and different location, away from all bad memories they harvested in that building and in which they lay every night, would improve things - at least for a short while.

Chuck needed that short while. With few rushed words to Arthur, limo changed direction and within half an hour, he was seated on a leather chair in a real estate office.

''Yes,'' He murmured to himself, surveying pictures of a two-bedroom apartment in a quieter part of Upper East Side. ''She would like this. My wife loves antique fireplaces.''

''It is available for an immediate settlement,'' Clerk smiled broadly, rubbing his hands under the table, smug with the provision he was bound to receive upon closing this deal.

''Perfect,'' Chuck looked up, closing the portfolio with an exciting feeling buzzing through his veins. Blair would love this surprise. She would forget about Elle. It would make her so happy. ''Can we take care of the paperwork?''

''Wouldn't your wife wish to see it first?'' The clerk hesitantly asked, knowing from his personal experience that women got the first and last word in a business like this.

''My wife is busy.'' Chuck lied smoothly, straightening his cufflinks. ''We'd like to move in tonight, if possible.''

''Certainly, I can see you're in a hurry,'' The man couldn't help but note, a shade of uncertainty passing through him. But this was Chuck Bass, the thought and the name were comforting. This was merely a whim of a young rich man, the clerk smirked to himself. A very profitable whim. ''We can immediately close the deal today if you would be so generous as to provide us with 10% down payment.''

Chuck nodded as if it was no big deal, reaching into the inner pocket of blazer for platinum credit card and offering it. After a moment, the clerk came back with an apologetic smile on his face. ''Mr. Bass, I'm sorry but the card didn't go through.''

Chuck stared blankly at him. ''Did you try again?''

''We did, Sir.'' He awkwardly replied, giving back the card with distinct candor. ''Three times. It failed each time.''

Chuck huffed in annoyance, taking the card back and offering another one. Unfortunately, even that one wouldn't do. Flustered and agitated, he left the office in a flurry, leaving poor clerk sadly putting back payment papers he brought out. Limo sped off towards the bank.

''Where were you?''

A dainty figure stood in the dimly lit kitchen. Her form flickered and he saw Evelyn, staring down at him with burning rage in her tired, bloodshot eyes. The haze of alcohol muddled his wits and, for a second, he thought he was five again. Woken up by bad dreams, he was secretly watching his mother restlessly pace around the apartment, arms crossed. Waiting for someone that didn't care if it was day or night.

''I've been waiting for you since noon. Where were you?!''

The voice shifted and it was Blair again, his wife. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.

''I was with Nate.'' He said, distracted by the train of thoughts. A very disturbing, Oedipal train of thoughts. He slackly threw his coat on the rack, not even noticing he missed it by two feet. ''We were talking...''

And drinking. Drinking a lot. Draining the entire bar. Ignoring her calls. What time was it anyway? It was still day when he entered the deserted club somewhere in Lower East Side. Glancing at the windows, the darkness seemed to spill over frames and crawl over walls.

God, he needed something to chug down. His throat was dry.

''Great.'' She approached him with short angry steps. Judging by crease between her brows, it must have been really, really late. ''You were talking. When do you suppose you might start talking to me?''

When indeed, his sober part asked him. When was he to tell her his father blocked his account? When was he to tell her they were nearly penniless? He had promised her an apartment, a comfortable life, yet he could barely pay for his drinks.

There were too many questions hanging over their heads and he felt nauseous when thinking of all answers he had to give.

''When were you planning to tell me you went to an appointment with her?'' She snapped, uncrossing her hands and launching something at his chest. Newspapers dropped on the floor. Looking down on it, the picture of Elle and him in the clinic swam in front of his eyes. ''This is how everyone found out!''

He felt so weak.

She made him feel weak.

She was a walking reminder of all his failures.

''Calm down.'' He pinched the bridge of his nose, too drunk to lead this kind of conversation. He staggered to his feet and passed her to get to the fridge.

''You say we're finally starting over,'' Blair went on, fists clutched at her sides as she felt herself boiling with rage at his relaxed demeanor. ''And then you go to the doctor's with her!''

Words rang in his ears and he stood still until the ringing died out, hanging by the fridge doors, emitted coolness blowing across his face.

''Who knows,'' Now fed up with the easy way he went about, as if this wasn't bothering him at all, Blair didn't stop to back down. She was in for the kill. ''Maybe you're not even questioning whether you're the father or not.''

He could feel her insecurity, her fear, saw them like massive flickering shadows on the wall.

Chuck stared into the fridge, forgetting what he wanted to take in the first place. ''Do we have éclairs? I want éclairs.''

''That's why you kept it a secret - you know you are.''

''I kept it a secret because I didn't think it was important.'' He forcibly shut the doors closed and finally faced her, his eyes an onyx shade. Every word he uttered was squeezed between his teeth. ''I went for a paternity test.''

How long would he have to repeat himself?

''When did you go?'' She went on furiously, taking a step closer to him until they were only a breath apart. ''What did you say to me when you went? What lie did you tell? Did she hold your hand? Did you comfort her?''

So many hollow questions. He pulled his palms over his face, glaring at the ceiling. ''It wasn't like that.''

''Then tell me what it was like. Enlighten me.''

''It was just sex!'' He growled and the moment the words were out of his lips, Chuck knew he fucked up.

She stared at him with those doe-like eyes, a princess in the cage of the highest tower, all rosy cheeks and watering eyes. She stared at him, not at the dashing prince, but at a howling beast.

One shiny tear, as rare and as pretty as a diamond, rolled down her cheek. A stifled sob, hurried retreating steps, and a slam of the doors. Then, silence. Isolation. Ringing in his ear recommenced and he sighed, dropping onto the couch fully clothed.

Weight of whiskey pressed on his dazed mind. He stared at the spinning ceiling and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was passed out.

''Mrs. Evelyn,'' Heather Pollock twirled flashy diamond ring around her finger, one of the rare ones which she hadn't sold yet. It paled next to her companion's simple, yet absurdly expensive jewelry. ''You must realize we enjoy certain respect and dignity within the society. It has all been blemished by that article.''

''My daughter is embarrassed to step a foot out of the house,'' She went on as Elle whimpered beside her, dabbing at her tears with a napkin. By mother's instructions, she wore waterproof mascara.

''As a woman,'' Evelyn delicately said, eyes glued on the grown belly and emotional prosperity it offered. ''And as a mother, I completely sympathize with you. I haven't spoken to my son yet, but I'm aware of the state he is currently in. We're all going through something that requires utter composure.''

''Trust me,'' Heather went on with raised eyebrows, stirring her tea clockwise with a raised pinky. ''We didn't know he was married. Otherwise, we would never have shown up like this. We had been misunderstood and it has damaged us greatly.''

''Anyway,'' She said after taking a sip of the delicious tea out of a porcelain cup she once owned too. The soft piano music swirled around them and Manhattan was bathed in sun, but no light reached their pale, aristocratic faces. ''Without any more stalling, we would like to inform you of our decision of our departure, before the situation escalates further.''

''Pardon me?'' Evelyn's mouth was left agape as the implication sunk in, as all the life she built for her grandchild fled before her eyes.

She had dreamed of a life where Chuck would finally be with happy with someone that was his equal, with someone that didn't lie and loved him for his money. She had dreamed of a baby that would finally unite her family. It was supposed to be a chance for a fresh start. God knows she had spent years secretly waiting for another shot at happiness.

If it didn't turn out to be her grandchild, it was supposed to be a mean that would remove Blair from the scene completely. A girl like her was too insolent and egotistical to suffer a husband who had no money. Soon, she would be looking for a way out and Evelyn would gladly offer her a chance. Finally, her son would see her true intentions and be set free.

''We have decided that Elizabeth should deliver the baby in London,'' Heather finished coolly, crossing her fingers and setting her hands in front. Having no natural manners, years of society abstinence made her forget an etiquette that forbids elbows on the table. ''All we expected from your son was moral support, but it is plain visible he cannot provide us with it. Therefore, we will be moving to England.''

''Heather,'' Evelyn, feeling her heart race at the potential colossal loss, quickly said, ''My son may have grown up to be arrogant, but I know his heart. He had not fled responsibility, not once. Besides, I know very well who stands behind his actions.''

Blair may have stuck with Chuck while could lavish her with extravagant presents and luxurious life, but what about now? It was only a matter of time before she seized an opportunity to escape.

With that pleasant thought in mind, after she made sure Pollocks would stay in New York and slipped a wad of cash in Elle's bag - for doctor bills, of course - she summoned her driver and drove to her son's apartment, knowing well he wasn't home.

A/N: Sorry for long wait, finals are killing me. Good news is... I became an aunt! So excited to have a princess to spoil and pamper, and raise like a true middle class Blair Waldorf hah *buys a gazillion headbands for little girls*

About Feriha, do forgive me, but I'm waiting for the end to declare the reason behind the act. Writing isn't easy and it has personal agenda which tasked me with emotional sensitivity while working on this. That's why sometime it takes time for me to publish because I need to mentally separate myself from the story. Thank you for understanding.