Love's Ultimatum - Chapter Six
It would be far to easy to forget this reconciliation wasn't real, Blair decided as Chuck let her into the front door of their - his house.
During dinner he had been attentive, witty and conversational - just as he'd been during the beginning of their relationship. But he'd changed once and he could again, she reminded herself. Besides, he wasn't the real problem. She was.
"I have your keys," he said so close to her ear that his breath stirred her hair.
Awareness shivered over her. Uh-oh. She put a yard of space between them in the foyer. "You said you'd show me your ideas for the basement."
"They're in my study along with the keys. Go on in. I'll join you in a moment." he headed toward the kitchen. Blair wandered down the hall to the room tucked beneath the stairs. Chuck's office smelled like him. She caught herself inhaling deeply and stopped. His desk took up most of the space beneath the bay window. Her gaze skidded to a halt on the framed photograph taken on their wedding day.
Melancholy thickened her throat, trapping her breath in her chest. She and Chuck looked so happy standing together arm in arm with their blinding smiles and love-filled eyes. But that had been before he had changed.
In that blissfully ignorant moment frozen in the photo, Blair hadn't had a clue how silent and lonely being married to the man she loved could be.
A pop startled her into spinning around. Chuck entered the room carrying a bottle of wine. He had two glasses pressed against his body in the crook of his arm.
She held up a hand. "None for me."
His brow pleated. He set the bottle and glasses on a side table. His strong hands worked the cork free from the corkscrew. "This used to be your favorite Riesling."
"I don't drink anymore, unless I have to sample something for work. Even then I sip and spit."
"You used to love wine."
She shrugged. "That was then."
"Did you quit because of your mothers drinking problem?"
He didn't know about the morning Blair had woken up on the sofa after drinking herself into oblivion while waiting for him to come home. And he never would.
"Partly. The basement?"
"In a minute." he recorked the wine and, still frowning settled behind his desk. He opened a drawer, withdrew a key ring and offered it to her. She remained frozen in place. Taking that set of keys would be another giant step forward, a blind leap of the edge of a cliff. Gathering her will, she took them from him. The cold metal bit into her hand as she closed her fist.
Next he opened a file folder and then slid it across the desk in her direction. Her pulse quickened as he flipped over a large sheet of blueprint paper reveling a page covered in sketches.
His gaze met hers and for the first time in ages the fire of excitement that had initially drawn her to him gleamed in the depths of his eyes. "Take a look."
A little leery of her body's breathless reaction to a glimpse of the old Chuck, she edged closer. He'd sketched out a design studio very similar to hers Paris, only larger and the space had more work surfaces. The layout also included an office area where she could work or meet with clients and a door that lead to the outside patio complete with tables and a fountain.
"This is beautiful, Chuck. Where is it?"
"Our basement."
Alarm sirens screeched in her head. "But….."
He held up one broad palm. "Hear me out. The basement has a separate entrance. You could work from home downstairs and have a nanny keep the baby upstairs. You'd be able to slip away to visit our child whenever you wanted."
Our basement. Our child. Her panic.
Her stomach fell faster than a soufflé. The words implied a long term commitment - one she wasn't prepared to make. "Investing that much money into a temporary workplace is not a good idea, Chuck."
"Who says it has to be temporary?"
"I do. We agreed to divorce after the baby's first year."
"Think about it, Blair. We really don't need to worry about the money and you know you'll want to be on top of your work and be as close to the baby as possible."
Not only was he right, he'd literally and figuratively drawn a tempting, almost irresistible picture.
She wanted to refuse, but she'd go crazy with nothing to do but wait for the sound of Chuck coming home. Having failed at that life already, she didn't dare risk it again - not even for a baby. Living vicariously through him and his job wasn't enough. She needed her own interests.
Unfortunately, what Chuck purposed was both the best and worst option out there, and working in the basement might be the only way. Was she strong enough to handle that kind of pressure? Last time she'd crumbled under the stress.
She looked down at the data Chuck had spread before her and then back at him. 'It's not that I don't appreciate this but I need time to think, and I'll get back to you."