Scars

Disclaimer: If I owned The Hour it would still be continuing on in some form other than fanfiction. But, alas, as it has been cancelled it means that I, indeed, own nothing.

Summary:"Do…Did…Do…Do you love me… at all? Our daughters? Our family? Angus…please…Do you care for us at all?" Vera/McCain, Future fic – 1965.

Author's Note: Also set in 1965 and the same universe as the pervious chapter. Angus McCain married Miss Vera Morland in 1959, Mrs. McCain gave birth to twin girls, Abigail and Emma, in 1961. Angus started his own consulting/campaign/ PR firm. I have no idea how this fictional situation would actually play out in real life but I wanted the happiest ending I could give everyone, even though McCain drove me insane at times...

She'd known. For a while really. Deep down she'd known for a long time. Probably since before the wedding. She'd never admit it to herself, refused to, wouldn't think the word. People talked in their sleep all the time. They would say all kinds of things, some stupid, most meaningless. And it was normal for men to have friends. Last week he'd mutter things about Dogs, and cars, and dinner mints. So the constant repeat of Adam could mean anything, be any one. She refused to think else. He was a good man – kind to her, came home on time for dinner except for Thursdays when he would go to the club. He gave her the girls. He couldn't be…like that when he'd given her the twins. Abigail and Emma were beautiful and darling and he loved them both so much. He had to love her.

But the picture.

She thought she was being useful, helpful, bringing receipts into his office. She did not intend to snoop through his things. The picture of their daughters on his desk smiled at her as she opened the top left draw where he kept the account book. And that's when she found the photo. It was half hidden under some papers that she accidently picked up when she took his ledger. It was a photo of a young man, his face vaguely familiar. He was handsome, dark haired and dark eyed and smiling affectionately at the camera. 'Love You, Adam' the back said, ink faded and blotchy as if it'd been wet and dried.

"Angus." She began, twisting and untwisting the duvet in her hands. The girls were abed, they'd had a drink and watched the evening news, and now they were getting ready for bed. Her hair was already brushed out and her night dress on. Angus was in the en suite brushing his teeth, already in his vest and linen shorts.

"Yes, Dear?" he replied as he rinsed his mouth.

"I…I have something to talk to you … ask you about." Deep breaths Vera. Deep breaths.

Angus entered their bedroom and crawled into bed, his face concerned.

"Yes, Vera, Dear?" He asked, reaching out to take her hand. She pulled away. She couldn't help herself. She could see the hurt in his eyes.

"I..I um put some receipts in your ledger, birthday presents for the girls, for your budgeting." She began. He nodded a little. "And I found a, um, well a photo. Who, who is Adam?" Her husband's face blanched.

"A friend. Adam was a very dear friend of mine." Her face was hot, burning hot but she plunged ahead. In for a penny…

"You talk in your sleep." If it was possible her husband got paler.

"I do? What do I say?" His voice was a little too high to be absolutely calm.

Oh God, it's true. It's true, why would he be on edge if he … he wasn't…

"Angus. Please, if you care for me at all, please just tell me the truth. I love you, please, be honest with me." Her husband put his face in his hands, pushing his glasses atop his head. The silence between them was painful. She just wanted to tell him to forget about it, to turn out the lights, curl up, and fall asleep.

"Angus." She tried again, quietly, reaching for his shoulder. "You loved him." It was his turn to pull away.

He said nothing. Just kept his face in his hands.

For a minute. For two minutes. She looked away, fiddling with her wedding set. She'd loved the ring the moment she saw it, three flowers in rose gold, diamonds in the center of each, larger in the center, two smaller on the side. The band he gave her that following September was the same rose gold, engraved with small flowers and vines. Slowly she began to take the bands off. She used to hate to remove it but now she felt as if she must.

It wasn't until the rings were in her palm did she start to cry. He was crying as well, she could hear his tears.

"Do…Did…Do…Do you love me… at all? Our daughters? Our family? Angus…please…Do you care for us at all?" she couldn't look at him, all she could do was stare at her hands, the rings. She felt the bed move, his hand reaching out. She tried to pull away but he was too quick, his hand too long and strong. He squeezed her hand, not hard, but enough to make her look up. His eyes were red rimmed, glasses still perched atop his head. He had to squint to see her; she used to tease him about this, but now was not the time for levity.

"I love our daughters. I love our girls VERY much; Abby and Em are my life. Please. Please never doubt that again." His voice was horse and his gaze sincere. "They are the single greatest blessing to have ever entered my life." A pause. He squeezed her hand again and then let her go, his hands returning to his lap.

"I care for you, I care a great deal. You are the mother of my children and more importantly you are a friend. Charming, supportive, witty. You're a lovely, wonderful woman and I do care for you very, very much." He took a deep breath, then another. She could feel him thinking of the next thing to say.

"I've tried to love you the way a husband should love their wife – to love you in that way to want you in that way…but, but I …I've never felt…"

She felt dizzy as her entire world shook and crumbled to the ground. She'd married a homosexual – he was there sitting on the other side of the bed, the bed they'd shared for six years now. Her children were half queer.

He never loved her.

They were both crying, heavily, silently. Tears streaking down their faces as they sat side by side on the mattress.

"If," He began after several shaking breaths, "If you wish to divorce me, I … I understand, truly. And I am sorry, sincerely. I will let you go without a legal fight with as much of what I have as you would like, I have but two requests if you desire we end our union." He looked up at her, eyes blood shot, cheeks glistening with tears. "I would ask for your discursion as to why we chose to end our marriage, as selfish as that sounds. And I beg of you, my daughters, please let me have a place in their lives." He added in a whisper. "Please."

She closed her eyes. A strange calm came over her. Her husband was a homosexual. He'd lied to her about that. Yet in every other way he had been – he still was – a marvelous husband. He was kind and supportive of her – even opting to work from home the first few days after the twins were born, before they could hire an au pair to watch them. She remembered him, as bleary-eyed as her pacing with one of their crying daughters as she paced with the other until both were quiet, dry, and fed. He listened to her when she spoke of the children and they came to parenting decisions together. No one knew he quite like he did. It was something she had noticed when they had been dating, it was what had put her at ease with him. Angus was a perceptive man, even before their marriage he knew when she was tired, upset, uncomfortable, and all the other emotions other people didn't seem to notice her having. He listened to her answers after he asked what was on her mind. He actually listened to her.

They made each other laugh. He made her happy.

He kept her financially safe, sound, secure…yes the '60s might be a new era of modernity but she would never survive as a single mother. Without Angus she could not provide for her daughters. He took care of the all the business – the taxes, the money, bills, the girls savings accounts and college funds. He never told her of any problems, never gave her a reason to worry. Yes, her husband was a homosexual and he had lied to her about that. But Vera would never find another man quite like Angus ever again.

"No." she said quietly, opening her eyes to look at him again. He'd still not moved his spectacles from the top of his head. Instead he was squinting at her to see, looking as if he was trying to read the fine print. Reaching up she brought his glasses down onto his nose again. He would have a terrible headache if he kept them off too long. He flinched.

"No?"

"I won't divorce you." She said, her voice becoming more firm and confident as she continued. "I am a little hurt that you do not love me the way I love you but I do know that you care for me and most importantly that you love our daughters. You're a good husband Angus, a better one I am not sure I can find. You're my friend as well and you make me very happy. I just…" She took his hand in hers. "All I ask is that from now on you are honest with me, about everything. Please, just tell me things; I will care less if you tell me first. Okay?"

In that moment a tempest of emotions wailed through his oceanic eyes: disbelief, relief, sadness, and hope. He pulls her into his arms and kisses the top of her head, her temple, her forehead. He holds her close and she can feel tears falling into her hair.

"Thank you." He whispers. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." Over and over again. She's crying too, clinging to his shoulders, bunching his vest in her hands. They cry for a long time. With no more tears to shed, Angus pulled back slowly and reached for her wedding band, sitting in the mess of the duvet. He took her hand and slipped the rings back on her finger before kissing her hand, exactly as he had on their wedding day six years ago.

"Thank you." Was all he could say.