Chapter 22

Unlike most children her age, Cora Waldorf loved to sleep, rarely seeing a reason to jump out of bed at the first sign of daylight peeking through her window. On any given Saturday, Blair had showered, dressed, and responded to numerous emails before she roused Cora for the day. She and Chuck were both naturally early risers, even after a late night, so Cora's sleep obsession irked Blair to some degree. More often than not, however, she would find herself watching her daughter sleep instead of immediately waking her because she'd never seen anything more pure than her angelic daughter resting peacefully, snuggled up in a large comforter.

This particular Saturday, though, Blair was certain to out-sleep her daughter. Cora had woken up at some point in the night to her mother's soft sobs into her pillow, unaware that her tremors were enough to startle the girl awake. She wanted to reach over and comfort her mother, whom she was certain was upset over the traumatic events of the accident, but she knew that Blair would feel guilty for waking her. Blair hid her emotions from a lot of people, her daughter especially, in an attempt to be strong for everyone around her. Cora was often in awe at her mother's strength and resilience, but even at such a young age, she'd seen the signs of Blair's exhaustion, of her pain and worries, of the heavy burdens she carried on her petite shoulders. She knew that, for some reason, her mother was determined to remain unbreakable in the eyes of her little girl, so Cora didn't dare mention the brokenness that she sometimes saw hidden in Blair's unflinching eyes.

When Cora's eyes fluttered open to find her mother resting somewhat peacefully on her side, she couldn't bring herself to wake her. She glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand: 5:06 AM. Monkey's head popped up to follow Cora's movements as she quietly slid off the bed, and she held her finger up to her mouth in a shushing motion. He watched her pad toward the door, but he made no attempt to follow her, instead opting to rest his head on the curve of Blair's hip as he dozed off again.

The little girl quietly picked up her backpack with her overnight clothes inside so that she could change out of her pajamas and brush her teeth. Once she had made it into the living room, she slowly walked around taking in her surroundings without the watchful eyes of her parents. She'd been in her father's suite a handful of times over the past few weeks, but she'd never had the freedom to explore. The suite was relatively impersonal with no mementos or pictures on display. The walls were so bare that she felt sad for Chuck; certainly, he didn't have any photos of her to showcase.

She made her way to the kitchen, where she found a pitcher of orange juice and a bowl of fresh fruit in the refrigerator. After gorging on sweet berries and gulping down two glasses of juice, she made her way toward her father's office. She lingered in the doorway briefly, hesitating as she considered her plan. Chuck had never forbidden her to go into his office, but he'd never expressly invited her into it, either. At home, she was not allowed in her mother's office; in fact, Blair often kept the door locked, lest Cora cause some kind of irreversible damage to the design sketches or fabric samples that Blair liked to bring home during the week for review.

Surely no one could fault her for her mission, though; she just wanted to draw Chuck some colorful pictures to decorate his suite - some Cora Originals as she'd taken to calling them. With new resolve, she pushed her way into the office and settled herself behind Chuck's massive mahogany desk, taking a moment to pretend that she was a powerful business woman like her mother. She picked up the phone, and ordered quietly, "Melanie, I need to see you in my office right away." With a giggle, she added, "Pronto. Time is money," mimicking the same authoritative tone that she'd heard from Blair when she was in work mode. When she leaned forward to return the phone to its cradle, the oversized leather chair slid a bit, and she became momentarily distracted by spinning it in circles until she was properly dizzy.

After several minutes, her vision returned to normal, and she continued her initial task of searching out paper and pencils. If she was lucky, perhaps she would find some markers to add a little color to her drawings. The first drawer she opened seemed to act more as a fancy filing system than anything, and she knew better than to mess with Chuck's business documents. She quickly closed the drawer and made her way to a cabinet that rested against the farthest wall of the office. The doors on the bottom were large with knobs instead of handles. It seemed like an appropriate place for supplies and storage. She settled onto the floor in a comfortable position and used both hands to pull open the cabinet door. Inside, she found several stacks of printer paper, highlighters of various colors, some kind of electronic equipment that she didn't understand, and a sturdy box pushed to the far back recesses of the cabinet, almost as if it was purposefully placed out of sight.

Her curiosity overpowered her artistic desire, and she pulled the box off of the shelf, arranging it on her lap as she lifted the lid to explore the contents. Her round eyes widened at what she found inside. One half of the box was filled with photographs and newspaper clippings while the other half contained neatly organized envelopes, each labeled with dates in small, precise penmanship. She reached for the pictures first when she saw familiar faces staring up at her.

The first one she picked up appeared to be taken on a random street corner: Nate, Serena, Chuck, and Blair had their arms looped around each other, Blair gripping Nate's hideous brown scarf while Chuck rested his chin on Serena's shoulder. They looked like the best of friends, and Cora couldn't help but smile at the contentment on each of their faces. She chuckled to herself when she took in her father's choppy haircut before she noticed the darkening circle around his right eye. She wondered if he'd gotten a black eye rescuing one of his friends the way he'd saved her the day before. She flipped the picture over and read "NJBC 2007." She pondered the letters for a moment, noticing that three of the four corresponded to the friends' initials. She racked her little brain but could not come up with a way that Serena could be represented with the letter J.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she gently laid the picture down on the floor and flipped to the next one. This one seemed to be a candid photo of her parents at some kind of formal event. Her heart beat harshly against her small chest when she saw the look on each of their faces. Blair smiled affectionately at Chuck as she rested her hand against his chest. His hands were shoved into his pants pockets, but his eyes were warm as they focused solely on Blair, seemingly unaware of anyone else around them. She studied the picture more carefully than she had the first one because she was certain that this was what her parents looked like when they were in love - so enraptured with one another that no one else even existed. Cora's eyes were drawn to the diamond necklace around Blair's neck, and she recognized it as the one that she'd seen in the Waldorf safe on the few occasions that she'd been allowed a peek inside.

Her eyes sparkled as she pulled out the next photo, and a small smile spread across her face upon examining the finer details of the picture. Her parents were locked in a passionate embrace, both of their arms full of various beautifully wrapped gift boxes. Their lips were fused together, but Cora could still read the joy in their expressions. She wondered what was in the boxes, and slowly she started to let her imagination create stories about the circumstances surrounding the picture. She decided that it must be her Mommy's birthday and her Daddy had surprised her by lavishing her with expensive presents. She didn't think she'd ever seen Blair as overcome with happiness as she appeared to be in this picture, and she hoped that one day she would get to see her mother experience that level of bliss instead of the anxiety and exhaustion that seemed to perpetually outline Blair's eyes with dark circles.

She continued to rifle through the photos, memorizing all of the small details in each and every picture. She took in her parents' hand placement, their stance, their countenance. They seemed to fall more deeply in love right in front of her eyes with each passing photograph. She couldn't fathom what could've possibly gone wrong. Why had Chuck disappeared? To her innocent eyes, they looked like the couples in each of her favorite movies, riding off into the sunset for their Happily Ever After ending. She thought about the last second before the rolling credits of Cinderella when Prince Charming leaned in to kiss his princess after their fairytale wedding. For a moment, Cora's mind flashed to Louis. He had the title; he and Blair were having the wedding, but Cora knew without a doubt in her mind that Chuck Bass was Blair Waldorf's unlikely prince. The only man worthy of her mother was her father, and no one would ever convince her otherwise.

The newspaper clippings were mostly write-ups of their public appearances as a couple – charity galas, balls, and other various society events. She found a few articles about Bart Bass, along with a couple of posthumous articles and his obituary. Cora read them carefully and studied the cold gaze of the grandfather she'd never know. She couldn't reconcile how this man could be her Daddy's father; they seemed so different and not just in appearance. His icy blue eyes didn't hold a single ounce of the warmth that she found when her Daddy looked at her.

She carefully placed the photos and articles back into the box and set about removing each of the envelopes. There had to be dozens of them, neatly fastened together with rubber bands. None of them were sealed, and she decided that she had dug herself deep enough into her parents' past that she might as well see what was hidden inside each of these mysterious letters.

Born into wealthy and well-bred families, Cora had the privilege of learning to read and write by the time she was four, but she still had a hard time deciphering some of the letters on the paper in front of her. Through careful inspection, she surmised that these were each written by Chuck at various stages over the last few years. She plucked up the first letter of the bunch and focused intently on reading the words on the paper:

September 16, 2010

Blair,

I've tried to write to you so many times, but there are no words adequate to express the torment I feel without being near you. Even as I put this pen to paper, I can't come up with anything to say other than I'm sorry.

It's not enough, I know. It's wholly inadequate.

I'm nothing without you.

I still love you,

-C

Cora gripped the letter tightly, her little hands shaking as she read the words in front of her. There were a few words she didn't understand, but she could ascertain that the basic point of the letter was that somehow Chuck had done something to upset Blair, and he wanted to apologize. Cora wondered if her mother saw these letters, if she would finally forgive her father. She carefully opened the next envelope, ready to devour her father's words as if they held a secret promise that her every dream will eventually be fulfilled.

February 23, 2011

Blair,

I don't know why I'm writing to you now. I miss you. I miss talking to you, holding you. By now you've surely moved on with your life; perhaps you've even found someone new, but as much as I try to move on, as much as I try to forget you, it's impossible. You live in my every thought; you occupy my mind even when I try to push you away. I have no right to think about you as often as I do, but it's all I have left of you. I sleep next to a woman who has been nothing but wonderful to me, but at night when I close my eyes, you're all I see.

Remember when I told you that I'm not Chuck Bass without you? It turns out that those were the truest words I've ever spoken.

I love you always,

-C

Cora didn't understand that letter at all, except that Chuck seemed to miss Blair, but if he missed her so much, why didn't he just apologize to her in person. A sincere apology always worked for Cora when she hurt someone's feelings.

For a moment, she wondered how Eva was doing. Chuck had told her that Eva returned to France because she missed her home. She smiled as a wicked thought occurred to her: if Louis missed his home enough, would he return, too? She felt a little guilty for that thought because she really did like Louis; he'd always been good to her. But she did not want him to marry her Mommy. She wanted him out of the way, so that her parents could stand a real chance. She shook her head of her errant thoughts and reached for the next letter.

May 17, 2011

Blair,

It's been a year since I last saw your face, since I last kissed your soft lips. Three hundred and sixty-five days of torment, Fifty-two weeks of anguish. 8,760 hours of guilt and loneliness despite Eva's sweet spirit and continual encouragement.

I'm still not sure why I keep writing you these letters. I guess it's the only way that I can still feel connected to you. I know you'll never read them, but it helps just to talk to you on some level.

We decided to open a pastry shop in Paris once we can save enough money for moving expenses and a small space. You'd be amazed if you saw me now; I'm practically poor. We barely have enough money for daily expenses, but we get by. In a way, the simple life is nice. I earn what I have; I work hard for it. I've been fully baptized as Henry Prince, and Chuck Bass is nothing but a memory from a fading life.

To occupy my mind, I've learned how to bake. (I know, but this bakery is Eva's dream, so I might as well commit to it.) I'm not great at it, but I'm pretty good at making macaroons. I'm sure you can understand why that's my dessert of choice. Anyway, I'm trying to create a signature treat for the shop once it opens, and I can only think of one flavor that I want to savor. I think I almost have this lavender and honey macaroon perfected.

It tastes like home.

It tastes like you - the lavender scent of your hair and the sweet nectar of the skin on your collar bone. In my dreams, I can still taste you.

I love you,

-C

Cora scrunched her nose at the last paragraph. Why was her Daddy tasting her Mommy? That was gross and unhygienic; surely someone as focused on cleanliness and propriety as Blair would never allow such disgusting behavior. Maybe he meant something else, but she couldn't figure out what he could possibly be talking about.

June 16, 2012

Blair,

I haven't written to you in over a year. I thought I'd put you out of my mind finally - that I could move on with Eva, but tonight I did something terrible, something that probably wouldn't surprise you because you know my darker side better than anyone. Eva has never seen it. She only sees Henry Prince, this man that I'll never be able to really become no matter how much I try to pretend.

Last night, I couldn't handle how much I missed you. You're haunting my dreams - every night I wake up and you're gone, and I have to live in this hell of my own creation. I looked up Gossip Girl for the first time since blocking it from my phone, and I saw you. I can't explain what those images did to me, not if I want to avoid another spiral. I'm not going to tell you what I did, but I'm sure you can guess. Let's just say that as of today, you are the only woman I've ever been faithful to.

It doesn't matter what my name is; I'll never be worthy of you. The fact that you gave me so many years of your life is beyond my comprehension.

I've come to terms with the fact that I will die loving you.

-C

"Cor?" Blair's soft voice called from somewhere in the suite, startling Cora just as she started to open the next envelope. As quickly and quietly as her small fingers would allow, she grabbed the first three photos in the box along with the remainder of the letters and stuffed them in her backpack. She placed the lid back on the box and slid it into place on the back shelf of the cabinet. She couldn't wait to read the rest of Chuck's words when she could find a moment alone.

XOXO

Blair padded through the living room, calling out quietly to her daughter. She didn't want to risk waking Chuck because then she would no longer be able to pretend that her actions the night before had only occurred in her dreams. She didn't typically cope with her problems through avoidance, but she wasn't ready to face reality, either. Part of her wondered if it would be entirely uncouth to call Dorota to come help Chuck with Cora for the day so that she had more time to prepare for the discussion that they would inevitably have to have.

"Cora?" she said, rounding the corner into the office. She found the little girl seated quietly at Chuck's desk, pencil to paper with sheer concentration etched into her furrowed brows. "What are you doing in here, darling?"

Cora smiled at her mother sweetly and answered, "I was drawing some pictures for Daddy since he doesn't have any decorations. We should print him some photos of me."

"That's a great idea, sweetheart," Blair cooed. "We'll do that this week. What are you drawing?"

"It's a picture of Daddy and me riding our horses to the butterfly garden." She held up the picture for her mother to view. "See."

"That's beautiful, baby," she smiled, trying to suppress the feelings of panic rising into her stomach. How could she have been so careless last night? How could she complicate things when she was well aware that the person who would suffer the most was sitting right in front of her; Cora was the very image of innocence with her tongue peeking out between her pink lips as she focused on coloring her illustration.

"Mommy, can I ask you a question?" Cora dropped the pencil to the desk and looked up at her mother, her eyes shining brightly.

"Of course."

"Were you mad at Daddy before he left? Why did he go to…wherever it was that those bad guys shot him?" Cora's words were soft, chosen carefully. She was just starting to realize that there was so much of her parents' past that she didn't understand. Sometimes when they thought she wasn't listening, they spoke in a low whisper about the way things used to be. It was as if they were speaking in some secret code that she didn't understand.

"Honey -" Blair's heart pounded a slow, unsteady beat against her chest. She could hear her blood pulsing through her veins, and she was afraid that this was the moment that Cora would realize that there was more to the story of Chuck's disappearance than a wrong-time, wrong-place mugging.

"I won't be upset, Mommy," Cora said, walking to where Blair stood in the doorway. Blair lowered herself to the floor in front of her daughter as Cora explained, "I just want to know…you said you loved him when I asked about him in Paris, but now you say that you don't. I don't understand what changed."

"Cora, baby," Blair soothed as gently as she could, "Grown up relationships are complicated. Daddy and I did love each other a long time ago, but feelings change sweetheart."

Cora's lower lip jutted into a pout, but she managed to keep herself from crying, "But you said that nothing could ever change how much you love me."

"I will always love you, my darling, no matter what because you are my daughter. You never have to worry about losing my love because it's not possible, but love in relationships between grown ups is different. Your Daddy and I still care about each other, but we realized that we are better off as friends; we just want to focus on you. Give you the happiest life you could possibly live." Aside from being a single mother for five years, Blair decided that one of the hardest parts of being a parent was having deep, difficult conversations with an impressionable child who couldn't possibly understand the complex layers of her questions.

Cora's eyes finally welled with the tears that she'd desperately tried to hold back, and she implored her mother to reconsider her stance. "I'm sure whatever he did, Mommy, he's really sorry. If you'd just let him apologize, if he could just tell you that he's sorry," her voice grew shrill, and the tears fell to her cheeks, "If you would just let him tell you that he's sorry and forgive him, then we could be happy. I don't understand why you can't just forgive him."

"Cora -"

"Hey," Chuck's raspy voice called from across the hallway, "Good morn -" He stopped as he approached the two of them hunkered in the doorway of his office, Cora's free-flowing tears falling onto her shirt. "Cora," Chuck said in concern as he dropped to his knees beside Blair, "What's wrong? Did you have nightmares? Are you alright?"

"Daddy!" Cora threw her arms around Chuck's neck, and Blair could see him grimace from the impact of her body pressing into his wounds. She gently peeled Cora back a bit to give him some relief from the pressure. "Have you apologized to Mommy?"

Chuck's eyes widened as he looked to Blair over Cora's shoulders, unsure of what the little girl could be referring to; surely she didn't know anything about their kiss the night before. Blair's eyes widened, too, for a moment, but she shook her head softly at Chuck, silently calming his initial fears, and said, "Cora asked if I was mad at you before you left…before you were shot."

"I -" Chuck stuttered, in complete shock from this early morning conversation. He thought he would awake to awkwardness from Blair, but hadn't expected to find their daughter in tears, questioning events that happened before she was even born. "Cora," he pulled back so he could look her in the eyes, "Where is this coming from? What makes you think Mommy was mad at me?"

Cora's lip quivered as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling into her shirt sleeve. "There must be some reason that you left." This would be so much easier if she could tell them about the letters, but she didn't want them to be angry with her, or, even worse, take the letters away from her before she could read the rest of them.

Monkey's trimmed claws clicked against the hardwood as he found the humans huddled on the floor. Chuck seized the opportunity to redirect Cora, having no idea how to respond to his daughter's questions and no knowledge of what Blair had already said to her before he woke up. "Hi, there, Monkey," he said, petting the dog's head affectionately, "You must be hungry, huh, boy?" He placed his hand against his own stomach in a dramatic display, "Come to think of it, I am, too. Why don't we grab some breakfast and take Monkey for a walk?"

Cora was well aware of Chuck's attempt to distract her, but she resigned herself to the fact that she would not get any more answers out of either of her parents right then. She nodded her head, and said quietly, "I'll get Monkey's food and water, Daddy."

As Cora took off down the hallway, Chuck felt panic rise in his gut, and he couldn't let her just leave after her heartbreaking line of questions. "Cora!" He called out, waiting for her to turn around and face him, her angelic features marred with defeat, "I love you."

She smiled softly and returned, "I love you, too, Daddy."

Blair watched the entire exchange, each ragged inhalation of breath burning her lungs. She felt like she was drowning, and the sincere and natural way with which her daughter and ex-boyfriend freely offered one another their affections finally pulled her under; she was in so deep that she could no longer stay afloat. Her eyes slowly gravitated toward Chuck. He was still kneeling on the hard floor in the same position that he'd assumed the night before when she allowed her emotions to pour into a forbidden kiss.

His eyes were shining, wide and curious, more unguarded than she'd seen him in a long time. He didn't blink as he studied her, refusing to tear his gaze from hers. She couldn't stand the silent questions she found written all over his face, and she stood abruptly to her feet, wrapping her robe more tightly around herself. "I should help her," she offered as an excuse, swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat making it even harder to breathe.

All of the oxygen seemed to have been sucked from the room when she was yanked back from her desperate attempt to flee. She turned back startled to find Chuck grasping tightly onto her wrist. Her lip trembled, and he pulled her gently by the arm to stand directly in front of him. "Blair," he whispered, her name a quiet plea on his lips.

She shook her head, fear dancing in her large eyes. "Chuck," her own voice was barely audible, silently begging Chuck not to do this, not to give life to his thoughts when she was still so emotionally vulnerable.

He raised his left hand tentatively, hesitating in the air before brushing the pads of his fingers against her temple. His hand ghosted down to her ear and he pushed her hair back over her shoulder. She shivered at the lightest touch, her eyes closing of their own volition. He caressed her cheek softly, losing himself in the sight of her slowly lowering the barrier that she had created. He'd come close to breaching the stone walls she'd erected to keep him out, but this was the first time he felt like he could actually knock the walls down for good. He was determined to challenge her, to push her. Last night, he decided that he wouldn't mention the kiss; he wouldn't make her uncomfortable, but this morning, his resolve shifted. He wouldn't make it easy for her. Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was certain that she felt something last night. There was something in that kiss that she was too afraid to let herself feel.

He had to tread lightly, though. He couldn't risk her cutting him out completely; he couldn't share himself too much too quickly because inevitably she would shut down. She would push him away and hide behind her engagement ring. But he had to push her enough to make her uncomfortable enough to question her choices, to take a hard look at her relationship with Louis and decide whether that's really the future she wants. Maybe he was still a selfish bastard, maybe it was wrong to pursue an engaged woman, but he was certain that she didn't belong to Louis. He may be realizing it six years too late, but she was the only future that he wanted. He was determined to make her see that he was hers, too.

He guided her slowly into the office, peeking quickly around the corner to make sure that Cora was out of sight. Blair was breathing so heavily that he knew her mind was racing; she was trying to decide if she wanted to run or if she was curious enough to face him. She looked down at the floor, unable to handle the weight of his expression.

He backed her up until she was pressed against the wall; his arms encased her on each side of her body, the hand on his right side - his injured side - resting lightly against her hip while his left raised to her face once again. She felt her entire body quaking from a mixture of anticipation and nerves, and she had to reach back to steady herself against the wall. Chuck smoothed his thumb across her jaw, using it to tilt her head up to look at him. She felt like her heart would beat out of her chest, certain that he could feel it where they were pressed together. He skimmed his hand teasingly, up her jaw to her mouth, letting his thumb brush over her lower lip until she opened her mouth in a quiet gasp. He lowered his head at a painstakingly slow pace, catching sight of her chest heaving inside of the slinky camisole she'd slept in. His eyes fluttered closed as his mouth just barely grazed hers. He didn't press into her, instead hovering just half an inch from her lips, silently imploring her to close the distance and return his kiss.

She swallowed hard, calling on every ounce of resolve in her body. Her hands were shaking as they connected with his shoulders in an attempt to push him away. He maintained his position, moving his lips to her jaw, gently trailing soft butterfly kisses down her chin to her neck, relishing the feeling of her body trembling uncontrollably against his own. He nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling the fragrant scent of her shampoo before pressing his lips more firmly to the hollow of her throat. She whimpered when his tongue peeked out to lick against her clavicle, his playful nips causing the hair on her arms to prickle with goosebumps. She found herself clutching the lapels of his pajama shirt, pulling him more closely into herself instead of pushing him away as she had intended.

Her eyes opened for a brief moment, and as weak as her resolve was, it was enough to shock her back to reality. She pushed against his chest, whispering weakly, "No, Chuck." He reluctantly raised his head from her shoulder, and she almost reeled back when she met his hooded eyes flaming passionately. She felt like her entire body was on fire, but she was shivering. "Please, don't," she shook her head, pulling her robe more tightly around her frame as he stepped back to give her space, "Please don't do this." She was certain that her tone was unconvincing, but he respected her request, lowering his arms to his side.

"Blair," he rasped, his voice thick and gravelly, "We need to talk."

"We will," she forced a smile, "But not now. Not with Cora in the next room."

She'd responded to his touch; he felt it - he felt her desire to give in, her resolve wavering. She hadn't completely shut him down, and she hadn't pretended like there wasn't something happening between them. He knew that she would avoid talking as long as possible, and he wasn't dumb enough to fool himself into thinking that she would succumb to her feelings easily. Blair Waldorf was headstrong and stubborn, but she was worth fighting for.

A/N: This chapter ended up going a completely different direction than I had originally planned, but at this point, Chuck and Blair kind of decide what they're going to do. I just follow the characters, and they lead the way.

Blair kind of unleashed something inside of Chuck when she kissed him. He was never going to be the one to make the first move because he wanted to respect her boundaries, knowing that he was lucky she'd even invited him to be a part of Cora's life. When she kissed him, he realized that she still harbors some kind of feelings for him. He doesn't quite know the extent of her feelings, so he's going to test those boundaries.