A/N: I'm sorry this comes so late! Last week were exams for us, and I'm just relieved it's over. Thanks for the reviews, guys! I read my email like an excited little girl, which considering I'm 14, is not that far of a stretch. Anyways, please review again. And as you can tell, I'm in love with the band Augustana. This quote is from their song, Boston. It's a hertbreaking song.

You don't know me You don't even care,
She said
You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains. . .

-Augustana

I love you.

And he says it so softly, and solemnly, that she would never have believed him if she hadn't seen his lips moving.

She thinks it's all a dream for sure. He doesn't love her. He doesn't mean those three words at all. He's just. . .a little out of his mind because of the drinking, that's all.

If she'd still been Blair Waldorf, she probably would've kissed him and told him those three words again. She would've believed him fully, and not be standing there stiffly with her mind unable to concentrate. But the fact is, she isn't Blair Waldorf anymore. She's a mother now, and a wife; an Archibald. And suddenly, she wishes she hadn't agreed to this, or come at all tonight. Maybe later she'd allow herself to cry, but not now. Not in front of him.

"Blair," he says. He's clearly hurt by the lack of response.

"You're a little drunk, and you don't know what you're sayi—"

"I do."

"Then you don't mean it."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't mean it, it's okay. Just. . .take it back, Chuck. I'll believe you if you take it back."

"But then I'd be lying. Blair, I love you," he says softly, almost a whisper, like it hurts him to utter those three, damn words.

Blood pounding through her veins, Blair dares to look into his eyes and frowns when she sees nothing but sincerity. Why did Chuck Bass choose to be sincere now?

"I thought you'd wanted me to say it." It's difficult to ignore the disappointment in his tone.

"Twenty one years ago," she fumes quietly. Her voice is raised now, and he looks frustrated too. "Not now."

"Why not?"

"I have a husband! I have two, beautiful children, Chuck," she tells him in a suppressed voice full of emotion, anger. "I don't need you."

"I have a son, too, in case you haven't noticed," he says coldly. " You're not the only one who has something to lose."

"And you're telling me you're willing to drop everything, ask me to leave my family, and be what Nate is?"

"And what is he?" he demands.

"A man who loves his family," she spits. "A faithful husband."

He stares at her, for what seems like such a long time that it makes her eyes water. She shifts to look at the lights once again, although they seem like blurs now, and blinks repeatedly.

"Yes."

His answer shocks her. But she reminds himself that keeping his word isn't one of his strong points.

"Like hell you are. When was the last time you had a real relationship?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but says nothing. "That's unfair."

"No, it's not. You've never been in a real relationship, Chuck. Maybe that one week before you left me waiting in Tuscany, but that doesn't even count anymore. And the one we were in after that—whatever it was? Nothing too."

"I'm sorry," he mutters, gritting his teeth. "I told you again and again--"

"After you insulted me by calling me wife?"

"Yes. And after you got back together with your dear Nathaniel, you wouldn't even talk to me!"

"It was your fault," she insists. "I was there for you, and you pushed me away! I'm human too, you know."

"But I was sorry."

"And that's supposed to make everything better."

"How many chances did you give Nate again?" he throws back at her.

She waves that off. "It's different."

"Enlighten me."

"Nate didn't push me away again, did he? He didn't leave me while I was waiting for him. He didn't ruin my life and told Gossip Girl everything that happened between us!"

"He slept with your best friend and didn't even want you."

"That's it. And I forgave him, because I love him."

He pauses at the words, and she knows he's wondering if he should even ask. But the truth is, she wouldn't even know how to answer him; truth, or lie? A sickening feeling creeps up on her, and she hates it, because she knows she's doing the right thing. It's not like she can forgive him, and kiss and make up twenty one years of silent glares and ignored faces. It's not like she can let go of her life so easily.

"It's late," she says wearily.

"I know."

"And it's freezing up here."

He glowers and takes his scarf off, throwing it at her. "Put it on. I'll take you home."

She thinks it would've been better if he'd just leave her alone. At least that would've made her feel better about saying those things to him, because she knows how hard it is when someone you love screams that you don't, when they tell you they don't want you. He doesn't love her, she remembers, though.

Right.

Their second car ride of the evening is worse than the first, by far. He doesn't speak at all, only pressing his fist against his mouth and staring at the window. She, with his scarf around her neck, sits as far as the limo can allow, only stealing glances when she can't resist. The thick awkwardness of the air feels so heavy it makes her want to say something, anything. But this is a game now too, and this time, she's not letting him win again. This time, she won't love him.

Blair, I love you.

Fuck it. He doesn't.

I love you.

Think of Nate, she tells herself. Think of Nate and Josiah and Audrey. . .Where could she be, by the way? She hopes she's safe, whatever she might be doing.

Once or twice, her eyes fill with tears. She remembers those times when she'd loved Chuck so much it broke her heart every time he shoved her off, or drank himself to death. She remembers her pillow being wet so many times when she'd think about him, especially when he was in Bangkok. She'd missed him so badly.

"We're here." His voice sounds so hollow, and empty.

Thank God. She opens the door and steps out, but not before hesitating. She just can't help it.

"I'm sorry. This would've mattered to me before."

He sends her a fleeting glance. "What changed?"

"Me."

He nods quietly, and she shuts the door before she wants to, into the empty street while watching him drive away. So it ends, she thinks to herself, before it even really started, faster than she could believe.

It's been an awful night.