Chapter 5

Blair was slower nowadays. The simple act of putting on her shoes took several minutes and a lot of effort. She was so physically exhausted by the strain that her large bump placed on her small frame that she was often left huffing from the simplest act of exertion. At her last prenatal appointment, the baby was measuring several weeks ahead. This caused the doctor to be mildly concerned, and she instructed Blair that she would not be allowed to go past her due date - no matter what, she would give birth by February 7th, if not sooner.

More than anything, though, she was lonely. She'd welcomed the seclusion of her father's chateau early in her pregnancy, but her separation from her life in New York - from her mother, from her friends, from her typical routine - was starting to take a toll. She felt isolated from the entire world, almost as if she didn't really belong anywhere now. Harold and Roman tried to keep her company, but they could only do so much as two middle-aged men who couldn't empathize with the plight of a young unwed mother. She spoke to Serena daily, but she was preoccupied by the demanding schedule her first year at Columbia.

Blair rarely ventured into public anymore for fear of encountering an overeager journalist, but she felt increasingly restless as the bleak months of winter creeped in. She was certain that she'd entered the nesting phase of pregnancy, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was entirely unprepared for her daughter's arrival in just a few short weeks. She had yet to decide on a carriage system, and she was rethinking the soft floral theme that she had initially picked out for the nursery.

Standing from her seat at her vanity, she walked to the large bay window; it was an unseasonably beautiful day for January. The warm sunshine offered mild enough temperatures suitable for leisurely baby shopping. She wished Serena - or someone - was close enough for a last minute shopping trip, but she was grateful to at least have the energy to go alone. Browsing through the local boutiques would hopefully be therapeutic to her chronic depression that seemed to be incurable.

After several hours and more than a few swipes of her credit card, Blair felt a little more like herself. With shopping bags in hand, she made one final stop at Ladurée for her favorite macarons; pregnancy cravings had her particularly partial to framboise. She could almost imagine the sweet taste of raspberry jam on her tongue, and suddenly procuring the fruity delicacy was her top priority.

She struggled to open the door as the heavy bags boasting the success of her shopping spree slipped down her arms and caught against her swollen abdomen and the handle. A man with a thick accent quickly grabbed the door for her and worked to untangle the bags from her arms, "Here, let me get those for you."

"No, that's not necessary -" Blair started in protest, but she relented as the handsome stranger pulled the bags from her shoulders anyway. "Thank you," she smiled sheepishly, feeling relief as the weight was lifted from her tired arms.

He teased, his bright teeth shining through his upturned smile, "Well, you weren't getting through that door on your own."

Blair rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "I would have...eventually." She found herself laughing along with him, and she couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

"Of course you would have," he soothed, "but I insist on carrying these for you. I can't very well have you falling over."

She nodded gratefully. Normally she would refuse the unsought assistance from a stranger if not simply out of pride, but she was tired, and, if she was honest with herself, it felt nice to talk to someone who wasn't one of her dads. "I'm Blair," she smiled, "Can I at least offer you a dessert pastry in exchange for your service?"

"Louis," he leaned forward and kissed the dainty hand she offered him, "and a macaron sounds exquisite."

XOXO

A half hour later, Blair found herself relaxing into the back of Louis's town car. She was aware that, at 20 years old and 37 weeks pregnant, her actions were reckless. No matter how genuine Louis seemed, he was still a complete stranger. She was smart enough to know that getting into a car with a random man was an unnecessary risk, but she didn't have the strength to resist. There was something inside of her that told her she could trust him; there was a kindness in his eyes and a tenderness in his expression. She felt at ease in his presence, and their conversation came so naturally that it just felt right.

When the car finally rolled to a stop, Louis exited before the chauffeur could and opened Blair's door to help her out. "Thank you for keeping me company this afternoon, Blair."

She laughed and returned, "No, thank you, for all of your help. You really didn't have to -" A sharp, unexpected pain radiated through her abdomen, and she dropped her purse to the ground, doubling over as the pain increased, "Ow!"

"Blair?" Louis asked, concern and uncertainty etched into his brows.

"I -" she felt a wet gush from between her legs, and after several seconds she realized that her water had broken, "Oh, God."

"What -" he stuttered anxiously, "What is it?"

"Ah!" she wailed as another sharp pain stabbed her stomach, "I think I'm in labor."

"Let me take you to the hospital," he ushered her into the seat, barking orders to his driver. He climbed in beside her as the car sped off, "Can I call someone for you? The father or -"

"The father?" she shook her head, holding her bump as tears welled in her eyes, "He's not -"

Louis understood, "Your parents then?"

"My dad's out of town. Please call my mother." She recited the number to him and desperately tried to recall the breathing techniques she'd learned in her lamaze classes that were proving to be rather useless at the moment.

Louis reached for her hand and squeezed it softly. "Look at me, Blair, " he instructed gently. "Breathe with me. We'll be there soon."

XOXO

Cora carefully contemplated the array of polish colors on display before her. Serena picked up a bright fuschia that could best be described as a sister shade to Barbie's signature hue, "This is such a pretty color, and it would look beautiful with your tan."

Cora scrunched her nose in disapproval and shook her head, "It would clash with my summer wardrobe. I've picked mostly delicate pastels, and that's way too bright. Mommy says your nails should compliment your clothes in neutral tones," she reached down and lifted up a soft pink bottle called Whisper. "See, like this."

Serena laughed, "It's perfect. You are clearly the expert, so pick a color for me? My wardrobe is bright and colorful, as you know."

Cora took her assignment seriously, and after browsing all of the brighter options, she settled on a coral color for the blonde. A nail tech led them to side-by-side pedicure stations while Blair started with a manicure across the salon. Serena slipped her sore feet into the warm water and closed her eyes, letting the jets soothe her sore muscles. Several moments passed, and she felt herself relax deeper into her chair. Her mind drifted to her earlier conversation with Blair, and she wondered how her friend was really holding up. She would've never even entertained the notion of Blair Waldorf as a single mother, but Blair embraced her role so fully that Serena couldn't remember what she was really like before Cora. Blair had never been a particularly maternal woman, instead drawing on her strength and independence to define herself as a powerful figure in New York society. There was still a part of that person in Blair, but it was often overshadowed by her softer, more nurturing side.

Cora's soft voice cut into the silence suddenly, startling Serena from her thoughts, "Aunt Serena?'

"Yeah, sweetie?" She answered without opening her eyes.

"Did you know my daddy?" Her words held so much vulnerability that it caused Serena's heart to ache.

She sat forward to see the little girl staring at her hopefully, and she inhaled deeply before nodding. "I did," she affirmed.

"Will you tell me about him?" Cora tore her eyes from Serena's and played with the silver ring on her right hand. There was a meekness in her body language that Serena had never seen before; the littlest Waldorf had too much of both of her parents in her, leaving no room for timidity.

"What would you like to know?"

"What was his family like?" Cora's eyes shone brightly as if she'd just made the connection that she might have a whole family out there that she didn't know about.

Serena remained quiet for just a moment, considering how much to share with the young girl. How much of Chuck's story - and by connection, Blair's story - did she even have the right to share? Carefully she explained, "They were complicated. His father died in an accident our senior year of high school -" she watched Cora's eyes fall back to her ring, sadness clouding her face. Serena switched gears slightly, attempting to offer a little hope to her niece, "but he married my mom, so we - me, Eric, mom - we were his family."

Cora looked back up in surprise, her expression unreadable. She stared at Serena, her mouth open, her eyes unblinking. Serena worried for a moment that she'd shared too much, that the little girl would be hurt to find out that such information had been withheld from her for so long. Instead, when she spoke, there was a slight smile on her lips, "So, you're my real aunt, and Grammy Lily is really my grandmother?" Serena nodded, and Cora's grin grew wider. "I just thought Mommy made that up."

She smiled back at the child, "Nope, you're my niece because you're daddy is my brother, and your mommy is my best friend, so you're stuck with me for life."

"She still loves him, doesn't she?" Cora asked, wisdom beyond her young years seeping into her words. It wasn't a question - not really. Cora knew her mother, and she knew that the answer was a resounding yes the moment Blair had spoken Chuck's name for the first time in years.

"What?" Serena asked, surprised by the sudden shift in the conversation.

"Mommy still loves him. I can tell by the way she talked about him. They looked so happy in the picture that she showed me." Serena remained silent, unprepared for Cora's astute observations. After a moment, Cora asked, "But did he love her? Did my daddy love my mommy?"

Serena felt tears prick her eyes, and she batted her lashes incessantly to will them away. "Very much," she choked out, "He loved your mommy so much."

"Then why did he leave us?" Cora's gaze searched the salon until they landed on Blair smiling at the woman working to meticulously groom her cuticles. She lowered her voice and added, "Mommy deserves to be happy."

"Oh, my darling, she is happy. She's got you."

"No, I mean happy like in the picture with daddy. I've never seen her smile like that."

Serena found herself at a loss for words. She knew exactly which smile Cora was referring to - the smile she'd seen the first time Chuck confessed his love to Blair, the smile that lit up Blair's whole face as if the sun itself was reflecting through her eyes. Blair lost her smile the night she found out about Jenny Humphrey, and for months, Serena yearned to help her find it but nothing could heal the immense pain that Chuck had inflicted on her. She also knew that Cora was the only thing that kept Blair going the first year after Chuck's disappearance; she was the only person in the world capable of bringing that smile back to Blair's face. Leaning in, Serena commanded gently, "Look at me, Cora. I've seen your Mommy at her saddest, but I've also seen her at her happiest. She was happy with your Daddy, yes, but I have never in all of the years that I've known her seen her as full of joy as the night you were born. You are the most important person in the world to her; you're the reason behind her smile." Cora looked up at her mother from across the room, and Blair, while completely unaware of the conversation happening between her daughter and best friend, offered the little girl the most radiant smile - a smile filled with unconditional love and pride. Serena nudged her and said, "See what I mean?"

Cora just nodded, letting a small grin play on her lips, and changed the subject, "I told you coral was your color."

"So you did," Serena laughed, admiring her vibrant toes.

XOXO

"Hi, Eva," Cora announced loudly as she guided Serena through the door of the little pastry shop. "This is my Aunt Serena. I had to bring her to meet you."

"Oh, Cora," Eva offered her a genuine smile and stepped from behind the counter to embrace the child. "It's so good to see you again." As she stood back to her feet, she reached her hand out to Serena, "Any friend of Cora's is a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," Serena returned politely. "Cora has told me all about how delicious your macarons are."

They picked out more pastries than three people could possibly eat, and Blair asked Eva to join them at a small booth in the back corner. "I never got a chance to properly thank you for keeping Cora calm at the funfair -"

Eva waved her hand dismissively, "Please, Cora is such a special girl. It was my pleasure. I've always wanted children of my own, and I would hope that one day someone would do the same for me."

Cora asked between bites, "Why don't you have kids?"

"Uh," she stuttered.

"Cornelia!" Blair scolded. "That's impolite -"

"No, it's okay," Eva insisted. "We just aren't ready yet, I suppose." Blair picked up the tension in her voice as she answered the personal question. There was definitely more to the story than she offered, but Blair hoped her daughter would leave it at that.

"We?" Cora observed curiously.

"My boyfriend, Henry -"

"You're not married?" Blair's face reddened as she was overcome with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and she squeezed Cora's knee firmly under the table. "Ow!"

Eva chuckled uncomfortably. "No, I'm not married, but we moved here a few months ago to open this shop and start fresh. So who knows? Maybe in the future…"

"Start fresh from what?"

"I'm so sorry -" Blair cut her daughter off. "I promise she typically has better manners than this."

Eva chuckled softly, hoping to calm Blair's anxiety, "It's okay, really. This is probably the most interested anyone has been in my life in a long time." She turned her attention back to Cora, "Henry had some bad things that happened to him before we met. We've moved around a lot to try to help him find peace. We love Paris, though, so I think we are here to stay. Plus, if we'd never come here, I would've never gotten to meet you."

"I didn't like Paris at first," Cora explained, shrugging her shoulders, "But it has some fun stuff, I guess."

"Some?" Eva asked, exaggerated astonishment in her tone, "Have you been to the park around the corner? It's incredible!"

Cora's face lit up. "No! I've really wanted to go," she narrowed her eyes at Blair, "but Mommy still hasn't taken me. Can we go now?"

"I don't see why not," Blair agreed, looking to Serena for confirmation, finally relaxing now that the conversation had turned to a more neutral topic.

"Eva, will you come with us? Please?" Cora begged and batted her eyelashes innocently.

"I don't know -" Eva hesitated, not wanting to intrude into their lives any more than she already had. She still had a hard time reading Blair, and, though she'd been nothing but courteous to her, she still felt a little intimidated by the sophisticated brunette.

"Yes," Blair nodded, "Please join us. We could use more friends in the city."

When Eva agreed to accompany them to the park, Blair asked to use the restroom while she closed down the till and Serena helped Cora clean up the remnants of their dessert. Eva pointed her to the back of the shop, through the double doors before she reached the kitchen.

Blair locked the door to the small bathroom and turned on the faucet. She allowed the water to run steadily into the basin as she studied her reflection in the mirror. Sometimes when she looked at herself, she didn't recognize the person staring back at her. She didn't look like the doe-eyed girl who'd fallen in love with her high school fling; she didn't see the queen who had ruled over the student body from the Met steps. She saw a woman who carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, and despite her feigned confidence, she still doubted every decision she ever made. The only thing she was sure about in her life was Cora. Somewhere along the way, she'd lost herself. Outside of motherhood, She didn't know who she was anymore. She never thought she was the kind of woman who would be defined solely by her role as a mother, but there were days when she didn't know any other way to characterize herself. Deep down, she knew she was stronger than she had ever been, but she felt like she had lost her power - the very essence of who she is. She was Eleanor Waldorf's daughter, Serena van der Woodsen's best friend, Louis Grimaldi's girlfriend, and now, Cora Waldorf's mother. When had she ceased to simply be Blair Waldorf, no further explanation necessary?

She groaned internally at the realization that she was having an existential crisis in a small bathroom of a pastry shop. She pumped a generous amount of hand soap into her palm. The familiar scent of honey and almond assaulted her senses, and she nearly fell to the ground as she was immediately transported to another time in her life. Her hands shook involuntarily as she reached for the bottle in front of her. She hadn't smelled the combination of this particular heady mix in years - not since before Chuck left her.

They say that smell is one of the strongest senses, having the ability to return vivid and realistic memories from the past. Instantly she was standing in the master bathroom of his suite at the Empire hotel, applying make-up in the mirror above the large vanity. She could smell the distinct Diptyque soap on his arms as they wrapped around her waist, slowing the movements of her hand carefully applying lipstick. The scent was as much a part of him as scotch and smoke. She wasn't prepared, and it hurt. A sob escaped her mouth, and she had to hold herself up to keep from crumbling, her knuckles white as she gripped the sink. His face appeared in the mirror before her; his lips descended on her neck, finding the sensitive spot that always made her weak in the knees. His Saturday morning stubble brushed roughly against her shoulder, and his breath warmed her skin with a soft "I love you" whispered into her ear. He looked back at her through the reflection in the mirror, and his chestnut eyes pierced her soul, pleading for her to hold onto him while she still could.

She shook her head, drawing a deep breath, and popped a Xanax from her purse. She opened the door, ready to plaster on her social smile for her daughter's sake. As she passed through the hallway, a small window on the heavy door leading to the kitchen caught her attention. She saw a figure standing on the other side of the door, packing macarons neatly into boxes. She recognized him as the man who'd embraced Eva during their last visit to the shop, and her heart slowed in her chest. She was mesmerised by his movements because, like last time, there was something entirely familiar about him. Her eyes remained focused intently on the back of his head, and she couldn't bring herself to move away.

A desperate urge to see his face overtook her, and she found herself inching closer toward the kitchen in the opposite direction of the exit. Her hands unknowingly rested on the counter in front of her, but as she leaned forward to get a better look, her purse caught on a pan stacked beneath the cabinet. She was startled momentarily by the loud clanging of a skillet falling to the floor. When she looked back toward the window, a pair of deep brown eyes were staring back at her in a way that shook her to her core.

She knew those eyes. They'd haunted her every night for over five years.