Chapter 15

"I blame you," Foster claims, leaning back in his chair. Will and Maddi has not been in friendly terms since before her arrival… two months ago. The professional relationship between the candy connoisseur and the young French girl caused a tension through the factory, keeping everyone on a constant edge- waiting for it to crack and then crumble down like a dam against a flood.

To Will's knowledge, Maddi stayed in her room because she missed her friends. To Will's knowledge, they didn't eat together, because she changed her food schedule while in Paris. To Will's knowledge Maddi wasn't avoiding him.

However, in the dark part of his heart, which he had forced himself to abandon, he knew that wasn't true. He blames Peter for Maddi's condition. He blames Peter for not coming to her. He blames Peter for fathering a child and not being there to help the mother.

But, above all of his hate for the younger French boy, he didn't blame Peter for why Maddi didn't want to see him. He blames himself; however, he is not going to let Foster aware of that knowledge.

"She is an adult now," Will mimics Foster's position in his chair across from him, "Maddi has every right to make her own decisions- even if they are poor ones."

"I still blame you."

"Really?" the chocolate maker scoffs at that, "How the bloody hell is Maddi sleeping with that good for nothing and getting pregnant my fault?"

"Not that, you dumbass," Foster replies, standing up and reaching for Will's cane, "She is depressed and I blame you. She came for you for comfort. Not money."

"What am I suppose to do?" Will takes his cane, but doesn't stand up with the other man, "She refuses to speak any time we are in the same room. Hell, she doesn't even look at me. Explain to me how that's a sign for seeking comfort. To me, it seems more like she wishes I wasn't here. I tried to be there for her. She doesn't want it."

"Try again," Foster makes his way to the door, "Please."

Will stands up then, putting the pressure on his cane first. The doctors said his knee was beyond repair. They're will be good days when the pain is subtle and then there will be bad days when it feels like a knife replaced his knee cap. Today is a bad day.

"What should I do, oh so wise Foster?"

Foster places a hand on his friend's shoulder, "Just talk to her. Talk about anything and everything. Talk until she tells you to shut up."

Will nods his head, before limping in the opposite direction of Foster and towards the young French woman's room. He stares at the door ready to change his mind- ready to flee. Cautiously, he brings a first up prepared to knock. With a shaky hand, he hesitates. She doesn't want to see him.

Maddi looks at the ceiling and Will looks at her. They lay in his bed as the rain storms against the windows. It doesn't feel real to have her with him.

Maddi's head is against his shoulder and Will's head is on the pillow. They hold hands and neither has said a word.

She arrived a few hours ago and he brought her up to his room. Will meant to talk with her, to question and try his hardest to help. Things don't always go as planned. If he breaks the silence now, he will break whatever serenity has calmed over their relationship. He is terrified of opening back the line of communication.

He knew that is she is truly pregnant; the child isn't his. Even in his drunk stupor, he remembered to wear a condom with her. Then, it also could have broken and it could be his. But she was also gone for months. She would have said something earlier.

If it isn't his then it's Peter's. If it his, then why is she here? They are a happy couple…or at least that is what Maddi claimed through her letters to him and Foster. Will's head hurts. Will's knee hurts. Will's heart hurts.

He reaches out for her hand, bring it to his lips, and then to his chest, "Maddi, please, I don't know what I am suppose to say."

She finally looks at him again. For the first time since he has known the young girl did she truly look lost. Not the adorable puppy kind, but like a part of her is lost. Her bright green sour candy eyes are now a dark forest grey. Her full lips are pulled into a straight line. Her bubble gum cheeks lack all color.

"It was my fault," She finally says, "It was all my fault. I didn't mean to."

"Didn't mean to?" Will looks at her confused now, "Maddi, you don't need to explain this to me. People have sex. When you're not careful, kids happen."

"But, that's not…"

"That is how it happens," Sits up now, looking at the door, "Surely one of your expensive tutors taught you that."

"They did," Maddi sits up as well, but her eyes still glued to him. In the past a simple look from her would make him itch, but nothing happens now. Nothing happens. He doesn't feel anything. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn't felt anything since she has shown. At least, not in the way he used to. Maybe the separate was a good idea. It worked- at least on his part.

"You should go to bed," Will stands up and walks to the door, "We can talk more in the morning, if you wish. No matter what happens, Maddi, Foster and I will be here for you."

With that said, she stands up and walks out.

Sure, he was a little abrupt with her that night. Sure, he wasn't exactly going out of his way to check up on her. But, god damn it, she is an adult, who should be responsible for her own decisions. Will finally knocks on the door.

A soft "come in," sounds from the other side of the door. He enters and is shocked by how dark it is. When she lived here in the past, her room was always illuminated to its fullest by having her curtains pulled all the way open. Now, they are pulled shut and a single lamp beside her is the source of light.

Maddi is sitting at her desk with her back towards him. He stares at her for a second, taking in what she had become in the past two months. She is still in her pajamas consisting of a pair of stripped short, but covering her shirt is a large grey sweat. Her blonde curls are pulled into a messy bun. Will frowns.

He walks towards her and leans against her desk. She flips the page of one of her fashion books, not looking up to meet the eyes of her guest. They stay there in silence, the situation feeling more familiar than either want.

"Maddi," Will breaks the silence, "Foster thinks we should talk."

"About what?" she questions, not looking up.

"The weather," he replies at first, "anything. He said to keep talking until you told me to stop. I can do that."

"Will," Maddi flips the page again, "You don't always have to do what Foster tells you. You're his boss, not the other way around."

"I know, but he is also my friend," Will looks around the room for another chair and promptly brings it over to sit next to her, "And I am your friend as well… or at least I was."

Maddi nods her head at that, her eyes still not raising to his. He looks back down at the book in front of her. It's a pictured of a simple blue dress, at least in his eyes it is; however, on the side is a small print novel of everything about the design. It doesn't make sense to him.

They stare at the picture.

And then it does hit him. When you look at a piece of candy, its simple. Chocolate is the simplest of them all. You look at it and you know it tastes good. When you look at an outfit, you know if you want to wear it or not. Yet, neither chocolate or the outfit is as simple as it looks. There is a recipe. There is love. Fashion is Madison La Bouff's candy.

Will smiles at that and leans his head on his hand, with his arm resting on the desk. Maddi flips to the next page. It's the dress once more, but this time there are three pictures, showing layers of the skirt, each a different color.

"So," Will starts, "explain this to me. The skirt is blue, but?"

"It is blue," Maddi replies, "Its tulle. The top layer is lace, but when it moves around, you can see the other colors, which are made of a thicker fabric- similar to tulle. It's genius."

That is how their day goes. Maddi flips a page and then explains the clothing piece to Will. Its simple, but comfortable. He slowly feels her relax by his side, which helps him relax as well. There is still a dam, but the flood is not as powerful as it once was. It will not crack today and the village is saved for now.

There is a knock at the door and like earlier, Maddi tells the person to come in. It is Kelly, with a tray in her hands. Will realizes now that she has been eating in her room. How could the girl he once loved, be so depressed, while living in the so near to her, and him not knowing. He had been foolish to continue their avoidance game, but he is going to change this now. No matter what happens or the consequences, Will is going to find a way to help her.

There is a ball of guilt that settles in his stomach, questioning if this is really his fault. It can't be. He didn't do anything. Or maybe it was because he didn't do anything.

Kelly walks to them and places the tray in front of Maddi at the desk, "Will, Foster is downstairs waiting for you. Dinner has been served."

Will looks at Maddi and she is still looking at the book. Her body has gone stiff again next to his and he takes it as a sign that his time is up with her today. He stands up and thanks his chef. He begins to make his way to the door expecting Kelly to follow him, but she doesn't. More questions arise in his head, but he squashes them down. Small steps, he reminds himself.

Before he leaves, he calls out to the young French girl, "If it is alright with you, Maddi, I would like to hear more about fashion stuff tomorrow."

She doesn't turn to him, but she does answer with a simple, "Okay."

With that he walks out and closes the door behind him, leaving the two women in privacy. With his cane in hand, he limps to the elevator. He makes his way to the dining room and sits across from Foster, who had yet to touch the food in front of him. Once Will has sat, Foster questions how it went.

Will looks at the food placed in front of him, thinking of how to phrase his answer before replying, "Well, I think. We looked at one of her books and she explained the clothes to me."

"She spoke to you?"

"Yes," Will replies, slight confusion clouding his brain, "She did most of the talking."

"I'm glad," Foster finally takes a bite of the spaghetti, "She has been rather mute for a while. I wasn't sure if it really had anything to do with you, but I knew that you would at least say a word to you…even if it was just to tell you to leave. I'm very worried about her, Will."

"Do you know what happened?" Will asks, the guilt bubbling back up, "Did I do something?"

"No," Foster replies, "But you should have earlier. Will, Peter raped her. She needed comfort from her best friend. Not doctors. Not Kelly. Not me. You."

*Author's Note – Sorry for the super long break. I was dealing with life. Not going to lie, I kind of regret writing this story. With that being said, it's a lot better than I remember; therefore, I plan on finishing it in the next week or two. There should be only a couple of more chapters left. When I first thought of the concept of this story so many years ago, I based the idea on the ending and how it would lead up to it. To honor my younger self's ideas, I am sticking to the original ending and this damn story will be ended soon. I promise.*