Chapter 16
As Chuck rode the elevator up to the Waldorf penthouse later that evening, a new wave of anxiety hit him. His nerves were no longer inspired by his inadequacies, Cora's expectations, or Blair's hostility. Something had passed between them in the alley behind the cafe; they'd crossed some kind of hidden barrier and were entering into a new and unfamiliar era of their decades-long relationship. They weren't enemies or lovers, but they weren't only begrudgingly tolerant of each other anymore, either. They weren't quite friends, but it almost felt like they were friends-adjacent. They were more than co-parents; their bond - their understanding of one another really - was something that only the two of them could fully grasp. Still, years later, it was achingly clear to both of them that their ties were unbreakable.
For these reasons, Chuck's nerves were focused wholly on fostering this newfound partnership with Blair. He felt that they were on the brink of redefining friendship - maybe finding a way to reignite the type of relationship they had pre-Victrola, only on a more mature, adult level perhaps. He wasn't sure if it even made sense: this strange hope that he and Blair could once again be each other's confidantes, supporters, and co-conspirators when necessary.
In his time away, he hadn't allowed himself to wallow in memories too often, but when he had, they'd almost always revolved around their ill-fated romance. Now, he longed for the days in Blair's bedroom plotting against their enemies and the profound conversations that only they could pull out of one another - the ones that highlighted her insecurities and his feelings on inadequacy. Even before Victrola - before he'd fallen hopelessly in love with the doe-eyed brunette - Chuck knew Blair in a way that Serena and Nate didn't. Their dark, scarred hearts were so similar that only the other could truly see the vulnerability hidden behind sardonic smirks and bitchy remarks.
The elevator chime acted as a cliche indicator of Chuck's final realization before he stepped into the penthouse: he missed his best friend, and he didn't mean Nate. Sure, he loved Nate, and they would always be best friends on some level. No one had ever been the kind of friend that Blair had, though. No one else knew him well enough or challenged him fiercely enough. Only Blair could do that.
"Mr. Chuck?" Dorota greeted him in the foyer. "What are you doing here?"
"Dorota," Blair chided as she made her way toward the maid, "Chuck is our guest for the evening."
"But Mr. Louis -"
"- isn't returning until tomorrow." Blair's tone was as sharp as the arch of her eyebrows. Dorota's face dropped slightly and a worried expression wrinkled the corners of her eyes. She was never very good at hiding her emotions, and Blair could read her like a book. "What's going on Dorota?"
"Um, I prepare romantic dinner for you and Mr. Louis," she glanced away from Blair to find Cora peeking around the corner sheepishly. She could see the mischief dancing in the little girl's eyes much like her mother's so many years ago, and she couldn't bring herself to reveal the child's meddling. "I can remove candles and flowers, and stop the -"
Cora ran quickly toward them then, lest Dorota derail her entire plan to make her parents fall madly in love again. "Daddy! Are you having dinner with Mommy and me? Please say yes!"
Chuck looked to Blair for approval to avoid overstepping his bounds, but she simply nodded in agreement. "Of course, I will. Why don't you tell me all about your first day of school while we get washed up."
She beamed at him and led him to the guest bathroom where she proceeded to fill him in on all of the juicy details of kindergarten while scrubbing her hands with honey lavender soap. "Lila Mullins is my new best friend. She's blonde with blue eyes, so we are kind of like Mommy and Aunt Serena, but Lila is kind of shy, and -"
Chuck listened with amusement as Cora discussed each of her classmates in depth. He was surprised to find that kindergarten didn't sound all that different from high school when he learned about the natural social hierarchy forming on the playground. Apparently Lila and Cora had already made plans to rule the Constance Billard Class of 2029 together; he didn't dare share his doubts that there could ever be two queens on the Met Steps, but he was positive that his daughter would take after her mother in that regard.
When they returned to the dining room, Blair was seated at one end of the long table. Chuck's breath hitched in his throat as he took in her appearance, her feminine form bathed in the glow of the candlelight. Everything about her seemed softer in a way, more delicate and beautiful. Her cream-colored dress and porcelain skin tinged pink with warmth and light gave her an ethereal quality that made his heart beat unsteadily against his chest. She was a dark angel, exuding a knack for mischief underneath a layer of beauty and perfection. His mouth grew dry, and he swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Now certainly wasn't the time to focus on the way her necklace lay against the hollow of her neck or the tiny sparkles reflected above the curve of her breasts. He averted his gaze to the feast spread out on the table and remarked, "Wow, this is quite a Monday night dinner."
"Well," Blair said, "We have reason to celebrate. An official kindergartener is in our midst."
He took a seat across from Blair while Cora chose to sit beside him. He raised his champagne flute in toast and announced, "To Cora, future Queen of Constance."
Blair smiled fondly at her daughter, "We are so proud of you, darling."
As they ate the elaborate meal Dorota had planned out for them, Cora kept her parents entertained with colorful stories about her day, barely pausing to take a breath between bites. Blair would normally correct her daughter's crude table manners, but she was too captivated by Cora's obvious excitement to dare scold her. After downing her grape juice, Cora scrunched her nose up in sheer disdain, "And, Mommy, she was wearing last season Pradas - the same ones that I gave to charity when I was four. Even worse, they were patent leather and scuffed around the edges. She could afford to take a little pride in her appearance -"
Blair glanced across the table at Chuck, slightly embarrassed by the fact that their daughter had inherited her elitist attitude, despite her attempts to diminish her own judgmental tendencies in Cora's presence. Chuck simply smirked at her and mouthed, "She's your mini-me." Blair simply shrugged in return and rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
Cora's prattling came to a stop when she turned to Chuck to ask, "Mommy was Queen, so does that mean that you were King, Daddy?"
Blair coughed into her napkin to hide her laugh, and Chuck shot a look in her direction before responding, "Not so much, I'm afraid. I think that honor goes to Uncle Nate. At least, he was prom king when your Mommy was prom queen."
"I saw pictures," Cora sighed dreamily, "Mommy looked so beautiful."
"Yes, she did," Chuck nodded, turning his attention back to Blair, "Did you know that she designed that dress herself? Probably when she was around your age, too."
Cora's eyes widened in awe of her mother, "Wow, Mommy, you're so talented. I want a dress like that when I go to prom."
"You'll have any dress you desire, my love," Blair answered absently, studying Chuck carefully as very specific memories flooded her mind.
"Did you and Daddy dance together at prom?" Her eyes twinkled at the thought, and Blair's heart broke into small fragments for reasons she couldn't quite fathom.
"No," she answered cautiously, "Like we said, I went to prom with Uncle Nate -"
Cora's face fell and she lowered her eyes to her lap as a small pout emerged from her lower lip. The instrumental music playing softly throughout the dining room changed over to a song that Blair hadn't heard in a long time. Blair gulped and reached for the remote to turn off the music, but before she could quiet the sound, Cora's little voice spoke softly, "Remember when you used to sing this song to me, Mommy?"
"Yeah," Blair whispered, "I remember."
"Aunt Serena said that it reminded you of Daddy and that's why you sang it to me."
I'm in here
Can anybody see me?
Can anybody help?
Chuck's eyes closed as memories from the past assaulted his senses: Blair sitting on the piano bench next to him as his fingers dexterously spread across the keys, filling the room with the song that Blair had fallen in love with - a song that was so poignant, so tragically beautiful that it would often bring inexplicable tears to her eyes. He didn't play the piano for anyone but her; to them, those moments were as intimate as sex, in a way even more so. She'd rest her head against his shoulder, neither one speaking as the emotions filled the room and their hearts beat in tandem. Those nights sitting at the piano inevitably led to their most romantic and raw lovemaking, a largely emotional act that resulted from the contrast of a powerful and bold connection woven into the soft melodies emanating from Chuck's fingers against the keys.
Blair cleared her throat and refused to look at Chuck, "She's right. Daddy used to play this song on the piano, and it reminded me of him."
I'm in here, a prisoner of history
Can anybody help?
Cora's pleading innocent eyes looked from her mother to her father, and she was certain that her next request was a risky one. "Will you dance together like you would've at prom? Please? Like you are king and queen?"
Chuck quickly shook his head, panic settling into his stomach, "Cora, I don't think that's -"
Cora's lower lip quivered and unshed tears formed behind her eyes. "Please?" her little voice shook with the desperation of her plea, and Chuck looked at Blair helplessly.
He could see the conflict hidden behind her dark eyes, but Cora broke something in her. Before she could really understand why, she found herself standing from the table, reaching a hand toward Chuck, "Dance with me? For old time's sake?"
Chuck stood and took her hand; heat passed through their joined fingers, and Blair visibly shivered at the sensation. Slowly she wrapped her arms around his neck as he brought his to rest against her hips. His touch was light against her dress; there was barely any pressure beneath his palms as if he was afraid to hold her too close. They swayed awkwardly in the middle of the dining room as Cora's eyes never left her parents' figures; in her eyes they were locked in a romantic embrace. She couldn't see anything besides her deepest desire for this moment to be the first of many candle lit dances.
Can't you hear my call?
Are you coming to get me now?
I've been waiting for
You to come rescue me
After several moments, Blair's fingers relaxed against the back of his neck and subconsciously she stroked her thumb over the tuft of hair sticking out from his collar. He closed his eyes and leaned closer into her touch, letting his guard down and allowing himself to enjoy the brief moment of getting to have her like this again. Neither seemed to notice when Chuck's hands slid around Blair's back to caress the seam of her dress. In the span of a few minutes, their bodies molded together of their own accord, and Chuck's light stubble rubbed against the smoothness of Blair's cheek. He inhaled, breathing in her feminine scent, physically restraining himself from nuzzling his nose into her neck. This is where he belongs. If he hadn't screwed up every good moment of their relationship, this would be where he would spend every night â reverently lost in her arms.
He startled when she murmured against his jaw, her curls tickling his temple, "I know it was you, by the way."
He pulled back slightly, looking at her flushed face with confusion in his eyes, "What was me?"
"The prom dress, the votes, all of it," she sighed. "Serena told me."
He stiffened for just a moment, until he realized she wasn't angry. If anything, it was a silent acknowledgement of gratitude. "Serena has a big mouth," he mumbled, resuming his soft caresses against her back. "You deserved it. I only wanted you to have your perfect night."
I need you to hold
All of the sadness I can not
Living inside of me
"It was everything I wanted prom to be, but Cora's right. I can't believe we didn't dance once that night. We were so stubborn, even then." He was certain he heard her sniffle against his chest, but he didn't dare pull away for fear that the moment would end.
For the remainder of the song, they swayed gently together, barely moving, neither one speaking. Chuck's neck was wet, and he knew that Blair was crying. There was nothing to be said or done; it was a bittersweet moment of fond memories and sad endings. He held her close, and for a moment, he was seventeen, and she was the love of his life.
All too soon, the song ended, and Blair quickly extracted herself from his arms. When his eyes found hers, he saw no evidence of tears or emotions. She didn't speak another word as she returned to her seat next to Cora with a sweet smile plastered on her face. "You can talk me into anything," she laughed and placed her hand fondly against her daughter's face. "I love you, but we must remember that I'm not a teenager anymore."
Cora nodded, but she didn't quite understand her mother's message. Blair's heart sped up when Cora observed, "That was so romantic."
Blair's expression turned cold, but Chuck could see the panic in her eyes. She shook her head at Cora and spoke softly, "No, baby, that was just a dance between old friends. There was nothing romantic about it. Romance is for two people who are in love. I'm in love with Louis -"
Hot, angry tears fell from Cora's eyes and she tossed her napkin to the table. She pushed back her chair, and yelled, "You don't want me to have a family! You don't want to be happy with me and Daddy!" Her voice trembled uncontrollably and she stuttered, "You won't even try to love him again."
She turned and ran up the stairs, ignoring Blair's desperate calls. She didn't stop until she landed on her bed in a heap, sobbing ceaselessly against her pillow.
Blair ran toward the stairs, but she stopped when she realized that Chuck was right behind her. She turned to him, fear and exhaustion evident in her features, and sighed, "No, you should go." He started to protest, but she held up her hand, "Please, Chuck. She's too confused right now. I shouldn't have agreed to dance with you. We have to be careful because we are very easily encouraging her fantasy, filling her head with ideas about -"
Chuck exhaled slowly through his nose, "I understand, and I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize. We both got caught up in the past, but I have to make sure she's okay. This is all so much for her little mind to process, you know."
"Yeah, I know. Call me later and let me know how it goes?"
"Of course." When she nodded, he leaned in to place a kiss against her cheek. He didn't do it on purpose, more out of old habits than anything. He hadn't meant to do it, and he prepared himself for her disapproval. What he didn't expect, though, was to hear a low, nearly inaudible gasp when his lips briefly brushed her skin. She was warm beneath his lips, and the heat radiating from her inflamed his whole body. Her pulse jumped against her neck, and she cleared her throat just as he took a step away from her, but his gaze remained intently locked on her face. She was frozen in place just a moment too long.
When the sharp ding of the elevator rang through the foyer, it was as if the chime had actually cut through the invisible tension growing between them. They both jumped at the unexpected sound, and turned toward the entrance right as a thick accent laced with an accusatory tone cut through their ears. "What the hell is this?"
Before either one knew what was happening, a fist connected with Chuck's jaw sending him reeling to the floor in shock. Blair screamed in horror, "Louis! Stop -"
"Mommy?" Cora's confused voice carried from the top of the stairs, just out of sight of the chaos in the foyer.
Louis's eyes widened as he realized what he would have subjected the little girl to, and he turned to Blair apologetically, "Blair, I'm -"
"I can't deal with you right now. I have to check on Cora." Her eyes were cold, but they softened momentarily as she watched Chuck stand to his feet. Within seconds, she was dashing up the stairs leaving the two men alone for the first time since Chuck's return.
Louis's chest heaved in anger, his eyes blazing furiously as he silently demanded an explanation for both Chuck's presence and his proximity to Blair. Chuck's own stubborn indignation demanded that he remain quiet, refusing to be the first to speak. He used the back of his hand to wipe the blood spilling from his split lip and he stared Louis down without the least bit of fear in him. His narrowed brows, tense jaw, and flexed fists acted as physical indicators of his rage.
Finally, after what felt like an eternal stand-off, Louis asked through gritted teeth, "Why are you here?"
Chuck exhaled, forcing his shoulders to relax slightly and gave the most obvious answer, "It's my daughter's first day of school. I wanted to be with her."
"You're not welcome in this house," he seethed. "Especially alone with Blair."
"Funny that she's the one who invited me here," Chuck responded smugly. "Good luck trying to control her."
Louis ignored Chuck's taunts in favor of issuing more warnings, "Stay away from her. From both of them. You gave up your right to be in either one of their lives a long time ago."
To Louis's surprise, Chuck nodded in agreement, "I know, but I'm not going anywhere. I made a promise to Cora, and I'm not going back on that promise. You have nothing to worry about between me and Blair, but I will be in my daughter's life. There's nothing you can do about that."
"You'll never be able to make up for your abandonment," Louis scoffed, "I've been more of a father to her than you ever will. I was there when she was born, when she took her first steps, her first words. Where were you? Sloshing your way through Prague? Drunk in an alley, high on drugs, knee deep in whores? Yes, you'll be up for Father of the Year in no time."
Chuck flinched, and the anger dissolved into familiar shame and regret. Louis was right. It didn't matter what he did now; he could never make up for the past. After a moment, Louis's first confession sunk into Chuck's muddled mind: he was the stranger who was there for Cora's birth? Oh, God, he wanted to punch him almost as much as he wanted to drop to his knees and beg forgiveness from Blair and Cora. What good would it do to hit Louis, though? Did this man really deserve his fists? No, he had been there for Blair when Chuck hadn't. He had taken up the role that he didn't have to fulfill, and he'd acted as a father figure to an abandoned baby. If anything, he deserved a medal, not Chuck's sarcasm and condemnation. He could still hate the man - God, how he hated him - but perhaps he owed him some form of reluctant acceptance for his role in helping Blair through her pregnancy and first few years of motherhood. With a stiff jaw, Chuck admitted, "No, I don't expect to be Father of the Year. I just want to get to know my daughter and be the best dad I can be from here on out. A word of advice before I go: Be careful how you treat Blair. Don't let this turn into a case of 'You don't know what you've got until it's gone,' because, trust me, if you lose her, you'll never get her back."
He entered the elevator without a glance back into the apartment. He was certain that Louis didn't deserve Blair, but he sure as hell made a better partner than Chuck ever had.
XOXO
When Blair reached Cora's bedroom, her heart constricted at the image in front of her. Cora's beautiful Victorian dollhouse was in complete disarray: the tiny furniture ripped from their place, the custom drapery torn to shreds, and the dolls scattered around the room. Cora sat cross-legged on the carpet with a Sharpie in one hand and the smallest doll in the other. Large tears rolled down her cheeks as she disfigured the small face with unsteady, frustrated strokes of the marker.
Blair cautiously reached out a hand to Cora's shoulder, and the child flinched beneath her touch. She didn't look at Blair when she said, "Happy families with mommies and daddies who love each other are just a fairytale, aren't they?"
"Oh, baby," Blair slowly stroked Cora's dark hair from her face, "Happy families come in many different shapes and sizes." She felt helpless, like nothing she could say would ease her daughter's pain.
"You said that you loved Daddy. I don't understand why you can't just get married." She sniffled and tossed the doll onto the ground beside her. "Sarah's mommy left her daddy, too."
"Cora, look at me," Blair used her fingers to lift the little girl's chin, "I loved Daddy. Past tense. Sometimes feelings change. That doesn't mean that both of us don't love you very much. I'm with Louis now. We are getting married. You will have a Mommy, a Daddy, and Step-Daddy. One day, you might even have a Step-Mommy -"
"I don't want Louis or a Step-Mommy!" She ripped her chin from Blair's grasp and crossed her arms over her chest. Turning her body away from Blair, she whispered, "You ruined everything."
"Cora, that's not -"
"You could forgive Daddy. You could love him again, I know it, but you won't." Her voice grew quieter as another tear slid down her ruddied cheek. "We could be a happy family, but you won't let us."
"Cornelia, I know you're hurting," Blair's voice quivered with heavy emotions from her daughter's accusations, "But that's not fair. It's more complicated than that. Honey, we have to find a way to be a happy family without -"
"Mommy," Cora interrupted, "I'm really tired. Can I just go to sleep? My eyes hurt." Blair opened her mouth to object, but when Cora turned toward her, she could see the wariness in her little eyes. She was just as spent - if not more so - than everyone else, and she was only five-years-old. Getting through this would take a lot of patience and understanding, so she decided to swallow her pride and give into her daughter's simple request.
"Of course, my love. I'll have Dorota draw your bath while you pick out a bedtime story." Blair swatted the tear from her eyes as she pulled Cora in for a hug. "I love you so much, sweetheart."
This time, Cora didn't return the sentiment.
XOXO
When Blair finally descended the stairs an hour later, she found Louis sitting wordlessly on the chaise waiting for her. She sighed in aggravation and marched toward him, "I'm not in the mood for -"
"I'm sorry for my barbaric reaction," he cut her off, "It was irrational. When I saw the two of you together after you told me to stay at the consulate, I -"
"Wait, after I told you what?" She furrowed her brow in confusion.
"Your text this morning. You said you had a meeting at Cora's school and that I should stay at the consulate. I only returned to get my iPad, and I freaked out when I saw you and Chuck. I thought you had kept me away purposefully so you two could -"
"I didn'tâĤ" she trailed off as she remembered Cora's eagerness to fetch her purse before heading to school. "Oh, my God."
"What?"
"Cora."
"Blair, I'm not following," Louis pressed.
"Nothing," she shook her head, unwilling to explain Cora's scheming to him, "I completely forgot about the meeting at Cora's school."
"Fine," he pursed his lips together, "We have other things to discuss anyway. How long has Chuck Bass been coming into my house without my knowledge?"
Blair narrowed her eyes in challenge, "I don't appreciate the insinuation behind the question."
"Alright," he sighed, "When were you going to tell me that you decided to allow him to have a relationship with Cora?"
"First of all, you need to understand that she's my daughter, and I make the decisions for her. Every choice I make I do my best to make in her best interest â not mine, not yours, hers. Getting to know her father is the best thing for her, no matter how you or I feel about Chuck -"
"How do you feel about him?" His tone was sharp.
"Oh, my God. Stop it. I begrudgingly accept his presence in my life for my daughter's sake. We aren't having an affair, and your suspicion is both unwarranted and insulting. Are you really this insecure in this relationship?" She was exasperated and she had little patience for his pettiness.
He ignored her last question and bore his eyes into her, "I don't like secrets, Blair. I expect that we will both be open and honest with each other. That's not an unreasonable request."
"You're right. Just don't act like I'm being unfaithful every time Chuck is around. You're going to have to get used to his presence because it's what Cora wants; it's what she deserves. I love you, but if you can't accept that, we will have to rethink this arrangement."
"That's the problem," his accent thickened with agitation, "This is an engagement, and you treat it like an "arrangement" â as you're so apt to call it. I'll be at the consulate when you're ready to make this arrangement a priority."
XOXO
Chuck sat on the wooden barstool nursing a scotch, waiting to hear from Blair. It was after ten already, and she hadn't called. It could be a good sign that she and Louis had made up, that Cora had listened intently to her mother's explanation, but it could also be a bad sign - a sign that things had escalated into heated arguments and crocodile tears. He hated that his actions and choices had screwed up her life so catastrophically. He didn't want to cause her more problems, but he didn't know any way around it. From what little time he had spent around Louis, he had characterized the man as volatile and easily agitated. He had a cool demeanor, but it seemed that it wasn't hard to ignite his irrational and jealous tendencies.
As the bartender brought him another drink, his phone buzzed in his pocket with a text from Blair: Are you okay?
Chuck: I'm fine, nothing a little ice couldn't fix. How's Cora?
Blair: I'm sorry Louis reacted that way. It was completely uncalled for.
The three dots that indicated she was typing a second message appeared and disappeared a few times before three pitiful words appeared on the screen: She hates me.
Chuck: Why do you say that?
Blair: She thinks I ruined her chance for a happy family. She thinks I'm the reason we aren't together.
Chuck: God, Blair, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. Do you want me to talk to her? Explain that it's my fault.
Blair: No, I think that would confuse her more. We need to stick to a routine and show her that she can be happy even if we aren't a couple. We need to be careful not to be so familiar with each other. She's little, and she'll misread anything too friendly as something more.
Chuck swallowed hard as he read her last text. It made sense; it really did. Cora was too fragile and hopeful to view her parents in that light, but it still hurt. They'd made progress; he wanted to work toward establishing a friendship like they used to have, and now it felt like he was back where they started.
Chuck: Okay.
He finished the last of the scotch in one gulp.
XOXO
If Blair set her mind to something, Chuck would always bank on it becoming reality. When she emailed him an outline with a very specific schedule meant to establish a routine for Cora, he wasn't at all surprised. He knew that it was Blair's way of trying to maintain control over an uncertain situation that included juggling the emotions of an impressionable little girl, a suspicious fiance, and an unpredictable ex-boyfriend.
For the rest of the week, Chuck walked Cora to school with Blair each morning, met her on Tuesday and Thursday after school for dinner at a restaurant of Blair's choice, and spent no more than an hour at the Waldorf penthouse on Wednesday and Friday for "bonding" time, which was essentially whatever Cora felt like doing at the time. He was certainly grateful for the opportunity to spend so much time with Cora, but he felt suffocated by Blair's strict schedule and even more so by her newly-adopted policy of distance and formality. It wasn't comfortable anymore. His minimal exchanges with Blair were awkward at best, and his interactions with Cora were dimmed by their limited time.
It would seem that at least Blair's tight expectations had one positive effect: Louis returned to the penthouse on Friday, content that Blair was true to her word. There was still some unresolved tension between the two of them, but he was appreciative of Blair's efforts. She even scheduled a meeting with a wedding planner for Saturday as a show of good faith to prove that she was happy and excited to marry him.
By Monday morning, a week after Louis left Chuck with a split lip, Chuck wasn't even sure if Blair would keep up her end of the bargain for their weekly meetings. After they said their goodbyes to Cora, Blair turned to him and said, "I know we agreed to breakfast -"
Chuck gritted his teeth, but he tried his best to suppress his frustration, "It's fine."
"I mean, we can get coffee," she offered him an apologetic smile, "I just can't stay long today. I've got a buyer from Saks coming at 9, and I need to make sure everything's ready."
"If you don't have time, don't feel obligated -"
She reached out her hand to rest gently against his coat sleeve, the first physical touch she'd initiated in a week, "I want to, Chuck."
He nodded, and they walked silently toward the little cafe in an equally familiar and foreign trek. Chuck felt like he was stuck in a weird limbo where he didn't completely belong, but he couldn't leave, either. Blair felt like her hands were tied behind her back, and her decisions weren't her own. Everything was dependent on so many other people's reactions that her own opinion no longer mattered. Together, it felt like they were desperately trying to stick a round peg in a square holes to not disappoint a child who didn't understand the inevitable incompatibility of the design.
Once they found their seats at the back table, Chuck stared over Blair's shoulder, unable to look her in the eye, and said, "Louis was there when she was born. He was the stranger you were talking about?"
She was surprised that he knew that, but she nodded, seeing no reason to deny the fact. "Yes, I met him while shopping, and my water broke while I was with him. He took me to the hospital, and he stayed because I was alone and scared. My parents weren't home."
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to apologize for the nth time, but he remembered that Blair had asked him to stop saying he was sorry. It didn't help her; if anything, it frustrated her. "Tell me about her birth. I mean, if it's not too hard."
She lifted her cup to her lips, testing the temperature as she always did and started her story, "With each contraction, her heart rate dropped. Eventually, even though I was dilated to 9.5 centimeters, her heart rated dropped into the 80s, and the doctor decided that I would need to have an emergency c-section," she paused as the memories of the heartrending fear for her unborn daughter's life flooded her mind, "Turns out, I had a placental abruption, and she was swallowing blood in the womb. She was fine, but I was terrified. If Louis hadn't been there -" she swallowed hard, "Mom made it to the hospital, but not until after my surgery."
He needed to hear this - to know what she had gone through, to know what a miracle Cora's life is, but God, it was excruciating. He mentally chided himself for thinking about his own pain when Blair was the one who actually lived through it. Selfishness came second-nature to him, and he hated himself for it.
"I'm embarrassed to even ask, but -"
"Don't be embarrassed to ask anything," she cut him off and took another sip of her macchiato, "We're way past that."
"I never asked about her birthday. I used an app online to determine the due date, but I, um, didn't know your cycle dates. February was the most likely -"
She lowered her eyes to her hands and a sheepish smirk crossed her lips, "Fate loves Chuck Bass as much as it loves tormenting me it would seem."
"Huh?"
"January 19th," she rolled her eyes. "She was born three weeks early. Her birthday is January 19th."
Chuck let out a dry laugh, "You're not serious."
"So serious," she deadpanned, "She was born at 11:58 pm. If it weren't for the emergency part of the c-section, I might've begged the doctor to wait two more minutes before cutting me open."
He smiled at her sense of humor. "I know she's Cornelia after you, which I've always thought to be such a beautiful name, by the way," he winked at her playfully, "But did you give her a middle name? I never even thought to ask."
Blair's cheeks reddened, and she drew a deep breath, "Her full name is Cornelia Charlotte Bass Waldorf."
Chuck coughed as his own coffee sputtered out of his mouth at Blair's admission. He looked up at her to see the smallest smirk playing at the corner of her lips. Perhaps Blair Waldorf had a few surprises left in her, after all.
A/N: Hopefully you haven't given up on me. :) I'm still here, but I've been sick almost all of January. Updates might be a little slower, but I'm not abandoning this story.
For those of you who don't know, the lyrics to the song in this chapter (and the title of this story) are from "I'm in Here" by Sia. It's the song that plays at the train station in Paris when Blair confronts Chuck. Also, Chuck's birthday is January 19th. You can imagine Blair's reaction when she went into labor on that day.