Chapter 25
"Hi, Daddy," Blair smiled sheepishly at Harold when he opened the front door to greet her and Cora.
"Blair Bear!" He grinned widely, wrapping his arms around his daughter before kneeling to embrace his granddaughter. "I thought you weren't coming until next week. What are you doing here?"
"We couldn't wait to see you." Her lips remained formed into a tight smile, and Harold could see the strain hidden beneath her normally soft features. He quickly inferred that she wasn't willing to talk about the reason behind her early arrival in front of Cora.
"Well, I'm so glad you're here." Placing his hand on Cora's shoulder, he gestured down the hallway, "Roman is in the kitchen, making eclairs. Why don't you go see if he needs help? I bet with a little persuading, he'll let you have the first taste." He winked at Cora as she grinned up at him and darted toward the kitchen.
"I'm so happy to be here, Grampa!" she yelled over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.
Once Cora was out of sight, Harold folded his arm across Blair's shoulder to guide her into the formal family room. "What's going on, sweetheart?" he asked as she lowered herself onto the sofa.
Blair's eyes pricked with unshed tears, the same tears she'd been holding back since boarding the plane to France nine hours earlier. Her chin quivered and a soft sob escaped her lips. Harold instinctively reached for her hand, squeezing gently. "Oh, Daddy," she cried, letting her head fall onto her father's shoulder. For once, she let her anguish overtake her, no longer fighting the onslaught of emotions stirring inside of her.
"You're scaring me, Blair," Harold prompted softly. "Are you okay? Has something happened?"
"I don't know," she shook her head softly. "I'm fine. It's…Daddy, I'm about to do something incredibly stupid." Blair looked up at her father, wiping the wetness from her cheeks. He saw a new resolve written deep in her brown eyes, and he suddenly understood.
"This has to do with Charles, doesn't it?" he surmised.
She nodded in affirmation and then shook her head. "I think he's in trouble, but that's besides the point…"
Harold furrowed his brows, trying to follow his daughter's confusing line of thinking. "Louis then?"
"Yeah," she responded quietly. "I can't marry him, Daddy."
If Harold was surprised by her confession, he didn't show it. Instead, he grasped her shoulders firmly and turned her to face him. "Blair," he prompted, "Breathe and tell me what's going on."
She inhaled a shaky breath and closed her eyes. "I haven't felt connected to Louis for some time, Daddy. We've been engaged for months, but I've never felt excited about wedding planning. I look at him, and I try to envision the life that I thought I wanted. It's not there anymore; any time I really consider marrying him, I feel empty. Numb." She lowered her eyes to her hands where her father made soothing passes against her skin with his thumb, and a few stray tears fell from her eyes. "I'm ashamed to admit that, but I can't go on pretending that it isn't true."
"This is a big decision, Blair Bear," Harold responded carefully, watching for any reaction to his words. He felt concerned for his daughter, but he also felt a sense of relief. The truth was that, as much as he liked Louis, he always felt like Blair was settling for the prince. Still, he had to make sure that she wasn't making a life-changing decision that she would regret when it was too late. "A lot has changed in the last few months, but Louis has been there through everything. Are you sure that it's not just cold feet as you get closer to December?" We are only a few weeks away from the wedding, but if you truly want to call it off, you have my support 100%."
"It's not cold feet," she answered quickly. "It's complicated, but Louis came into my life when I was at my lowest, my most vulnerable. He was exactly what I needed at that time – strong, supportive, and kind, but he's not…" She paused for a moment to contemplate the rest of her response. She wiped her tears away and looked directly into her father's warm eyes. "He's not the love of my life, Daddy."
He reached out to stroke her cheek, his own heart breaking at her distress. "Okay," he soothed, "We'll call off the wedding."
"I feel terrible," she swallowed, shaking her head, "I owe him so much. He's been so good to me and Cora."
"You don't owe him anything, Blair," Harold said firmly. "Being a good person doesn't entitle him to your hand in marriage."
"I don't want to hurt him, but I don't have a lot of time to waste, either." She fiddled absently with the engagement ring on her finger. "I need a favor, Daddy."
"Anything, Blair Bear," he smiled softly. "I just want you and Cora to be happy."
"Can Cora stay with you and Roman for a few days? I've arranged for her to join class remotely this week," Blair explained, her eyes shining brightly. "I need to talk to Louis, and…" Silence filled the air between them as she trailed off for a few seconds. "I need to go to Japan tonight."
Harold's head jerked up in surprise, "Japan? Why on earth do you need to go to Japan so suddenly…" His features softened, and he finally began to understand Blair's urgency. "Charles."
Blair nodded and said, "He's in trouble, Daddy. I know that we have a complicated history, but he needs my help. I won't just abandon him. I can't -" Her voice broke off into a quiet sob, causing her entire frame to shake beneath the weight of her emotions.
"Shh," Harold soothed, pulling her in for a hug. She buried her head into his shoulder and cried. "You don't need to explain yourself. You love Charles; you always have."
"I don't know what to do," she sniffled as she pulled back to compose herself. "I'm scared."
"You don't have to know right now," he reassured her. "You don't have to make any big decisions. You'll know what to do when the time's right. Listen to your heart, sweetheart. It's never steered you wrong."
XOXO
"Blair," Louis exclaimed with a wide grin on his face, opening his arms to greet her. When he saw her troubled expression, he dropped his hands to his side and questioned anxiously, "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk." She held her chin high and kept her voice even, displaying a cool confidence that she certainly didn't feel. On the inside, she was breaking. She'd spent the past five years of her life with this man, and, even though she knew this was the right choice, she felt a deep ache swelling in her chest. It was inevitable that she would hurt him, but she owed it to herself to be honest with him. Serena had once told her that she was entering into a false life because she was afraid to face her real one. It was time to be brave; she refused to live in fear any longer. "I don't have much time. I have to board a plane within an hour."
"You're scaring me, Blair." He pushed for an explanation for her strange behavior, worry wearing on his face. "Where are you going? Is Cora okay?"
She reached out a tentative hand to touch his forearm, hoping to placate him without sending the wrong message. "Cora's fine, but -" She looked up at him - at this man who'd willingly accepted a child to whom he had no biological ties, this man who'd offered nothing but love and support to a traumatized woman who couldn't completely open her heart to him - and her resolve wavered. She closed her eyes, blinking back tears as she pulled the ring from her finger.
"No!" She heard Louis's gasp of surprise and, when she opened her eyes, she found him vigorously shaking his head, panic overwhelming each of his features. "Blair, stop. What are you doing?"
"You said it yourself, Louis – things haven't been right between us for a while." She exhaled all of the air from her lungs and placed the ring in his hand. "I'm sorry."
"That's it?" He threw his hands in the air in disbelief. "I've given you five years of my life, Blair. I've loved you and stood by you. I've been patient, and -"
"Yes," she agreed softly, tears streaking slowly down her cheeks, "You have, but that doesn't mean that we should be getting married -"
"It's because of him, isn't it?" Louis snarled, hatred and anger quickly replacing his sadness. "You're throwing it all away for him?!"
"No," she answered quickly, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, "Actually, yes, partially, but it's not just Chuck. You and me…we're fine, in the same way that tap water is fine. We're tepid."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Louis, I will always care for you." She reached for his hand, and he didn't pull away. "But there's no passion between us. There never really was. We both deserve that kind of love - the kind of love that is explosive and exciting."
"That's just fantasy; it'll eventually fizzle out," Louis sighed, "What we have is stable and dependable. You won't have to go to sleep at night wondering if I'll still be there in the morning. You don't have to spend each day scared that I'll betray your trust. Can you really say the same about him?"
"Honestly, no." She shrugged as a small smile played on her lips. "But he's shown me the kind of man he can be, and maybe that's worth the risk."
"He's going to break your heart, Blair." Louis shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I was willing to give you everything."
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "You'll find someone deserving of your love, Louis. It's just not me."
XOXO
By the time the jet landed in Tokyo, Blair was exhausted both physically and mentally. She and Louis made arrangements for him to clear his belongings from her penthouse in New York before she returned home. He'd requested to remain a part of Cora's life, but Blair told him that she wasn't ready to make those decisions yet. There were far too many unknowns about the future, and she needed time to process what it would all mean for her five-year-old daughter. In the back of her mind, she knew that Cora would want to maintain some kind of relationship with Louis, but she didn't have the mental capacity to wrap her mind around what exactly that would look like. Right now, she had more pressing matters to attend to.
It was 5:30 in the morning; she should really check into a hotel and get a few hours of sleep before confronting Chuck in what was certain to be a draining encounter. She couldn't bring herself to consider sleep, though, without checking on Chuck first. Nearly 48 hours had passed since she'd spoken to him, a fact that had her mind wrought with debilitating anxiety. She gave the driver directions and drew in a deep ragged breath, preparing herself for what she would surely find when she walked into Chuck's suite.
She pushed open the door after sweet-talking her way through security. She'd briefly questioned the front office clerk for details of Chuck's latest activity, but she realized her attempt to gather more information was futile when the man explained that he hadn't seen Mr. Bass in two days. As she stepped into the foyer, she listened carefully for any noises that might reveal evidence of Chuck's more debaucherous behavior; everything was eerily quiet, except for a light rustling coming from the back of the suite. The living room seemed undisturbed. A pair of Chuck's loafers rested against the wall and his briefcase was placed haphazardly on a chair, but it was otherwise tidy. Upon further investigation, she found a nearly empty whiskey decanter on the Quartz bar top leading into the kitchen. Chuck's alcohol consumption wasn't necessarily a cause for alarm, and she let out a sigh of relief when she didn't find any drug paraphernalia.
She slowly walked toward the sounds coming from the master bedroom; the rustling gave way to a louder noise, like banging or slamming of doors. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest, and she steadied herself against the wall to regain her composure. When she crossed the threshold into the room, she found a haggard Chuck standing in the center of the room alone, holding a fistful of clothes. He wore a button-down white shirt that was sullied with brown stains and wrinkles and a pair of black boxers. Dark circles outlined his eyes; light stubble littered his jawline. Every drawer on the dresser was opened with various articles of clothing strewn across the floor and bed.
"Chuck?" She addressed him softly, stepping into the room. His eyes lifted to meet hers, causing his unkempt hair to fall over his eyebrows. She could see that they were still shiny with fresh tears, and her heart ached at the sight. He was broken. She hadn't seen him like this since the moment he showed up in her bedroom seeking comfort after Bart's death and the rest of the world had abandoned him. He stared at her silently for several beats before collapsing onto the bed and burying his face in his hands. She briefly caught sight of a suitcase on the bed behind him as she made her way toward him. Without giving her actions a second thought, she drew him into her arms. He didn't resist her, instead sinking further into her embrace as if she was his only refuge from some unspeakable pain.
"I'm sorry," he murmured desperately against her shoulder, grasping her upper arm tightly to hold himself to her. "I'm so sorry."
"Shhh, it's okay," she soothed, gently brushing his hair off his sweat-soaked forehead. "It's okay. I'm here."
It seemed like an eternity that they remained that way, each of their individual fears evaporating in the other's embrace. All of her earlier worries washed away – he was safe; everything else was inconsequential in that moment. She focused her attention on calming him, running her hand up and down his back and whispering reassurances in his ear. In time, she would help him work through whatever caused this reaction, but, for now, her role was to be his anchor, preventing him from succumbing to the darkness clouding his mind. As his breathing slowed, she placed a soft kiss to his forehead and gently pushed him back to look him in the eye. "Where are you going?" she asked, gesturing to the unorganized suitcase behind her.
"Back to New York." His voice was raspier than usual. "When I couldn't get ahold of you this morning, I realized how badly I fucked up."
"Wait." She stood to her feet and bit her lip, trying to put together the various puzzle pieces that didn't quite make a complete picture. "I'm confused. When you couldn't get ahold of me?"
"I woke up this morning, sober after…" He shook his head and closed his eyes, a small shudder working through his body. "I know that she must hate me for missing yesterday's FaceTime, so I tried to connect this morning, but you didn't answer. After I texted you with no response, I felt desperate to get back to New York to set things right." He furrowed his brow, cocking his head to the side, really studying her for the first time since her arrival. "Why are you here, Blair?"
"I think we're both missing something here, Chuck." She shrugged, unable to make sense of his explanation and her own muddled thoughts. "Why don't you take a minute to get cleaned up?" She raised her eyebrows, nodding toward his disheveled appearance. "Take a shower and get dressed and we'll talk."
While Chuck was in the shower, Blair returned to the living room where she'd left her belongings. She rifled through her purse to find her phone. She hadn't thought to charge it, and the battery must've drained at some point on her flight. Fishing out her charging cable, she plugged in her phone and plopped down on the couch. It would take several minutes for the phone to recharge enough to power on, so she allowed herself a minute to lean back into the sofa and rest her eyes.
She awoke a half hour later to Chuck gently shaking her shoulders. "Hey," he whispered. "Would you like to lay down in my bed and nap before we talk? You look exhausted."
"No, I'm fine," she insisted, sitting up and smoothing down her skirt. "Just a little jetlagged. I dropped Cora off in Paris yesterday before coming here."
Chuck nodded. Her obvious fatigue bothered him, but he knew it was useless to argue with her. She wouldn't rest until they talked, and he was honestly just as confused as she was. "Let me get us some coffee." He offered her a weary smile and left for the kitchen.
Blair raked her hand through her tousled hair and powered her phone up. Immediately multiple text message notifications alerted her to their existence. She scrolled through several from her mother, Dorota, and Serena until she found Chuck's name:
4:48 am: I'm so sorry about missing yesterday's call. I hope you and Cora can forgive me.
5:04 am: I'm trying to connect. Please pick up, Blair. I need to see Cora.
5:17 am: I know I screwed up. Please let me explain.
5:36 am: I'm coming home. I'm sorry.
It didn't make any sense. Chuck was clearly struggling with something, and he admitted that he hadn't been sober the entire weekend. However, he seemed perfectly coherent now despite the distraught state she'd found him in an hour earlier. She'd fully prepared herself to argue with a belligerent Chuck high on hard drugs, possibly surrounded by half-dressed prostitutes. Instead, he just seemed…sad. It was a direct contradiction to the picture she received yesterday, and she found herself hating Jack a little bit more than she already did, if that was even possible.
She took a sip of the coffee that Chuck handed her and studied his appearance as he sat anxiously across from her. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he donned a pair of black slacks and a crisp white dress shirt open at the collar. There was something oddly comforting about the clean scent of his soap. While he still looked as exhausted as she felt, his appearance was less bedraggled. He was her Chuck again, just weighed down by unknown burdens.
"Why are you here?" he repeated his previous question.
"I received a text that worried me." She left her answer purposefully vague, wanting some kind of explanation from him before she revealed exactly what brought her halfway across the world. "Why did you miss Cora's call yesterday? You promised that you wouldn't let her down." She tried to keep the judgment out of her voice, but now that she could see that he was alright, her anger was starting to brew beneath the surface again.
"I know," he combed his fingers through his hair, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm not going to sugarcoat it. I was drunk off my ass. I had a really bad night Friday, and I needed some reprieve from my thoughts. I got drunk to the point that I didn't know my own name, let alone the time. I continued drinking myself into a stupor all day yesterday. I finally sobered up around three or four this morning, and I immediately thought of you and Cora. That's why I tried to get ahold of you and panicked when I couldn't. That's why I was packing my bags to come back home. I couldn't bear the thought that I hurt Cora…or that I disappointed you."
Blair felt herself soften slightly at the raw honesty reflecting in his eyes. His last statement was so desperate, almost pleading with her not to give up on him. And isn't that exactly what she'd promised herself? That she would support him through whatever he was facing no matter what. As long as he doesn't hurt Cora, she amended. She exhaled and pushed harder, "Why were you drunk? You're twenty-five; you can't shirk your responsibilities because you're stressed."
"It wasn't like that, Blair." His gravelly voice was full of frustration. "I've done nothing but work and sleep since I got here. Jack -" He stopped, turning away from her with a shake of his head. "It doesn't matter. It won't happen again. You have to believe me."
"No, Chuck." She narrowed her eyes. "We are going to talk about this."
"You said you got a text that concerned you," he reminded her. "Who was it from?"
"It was from Jack." She watched him for a reaction, expecting guilt or remorse to flit across his features. Instead, his jaw locked tightly, and she could see the muscles jump beneath his skin - a clear sign that he was growing angry.
"Fucking Jack," he scowled. "Let me see the text, Blair." She folded her arms across her chest, irritated by his demanding tone. He exhaled slowly and implored, "Please?" She relented, pulling up the incriminating photo for him to see. He yanked the phone out of her hand and shook his head vigorously, his eyes widening at all of the damning evidence laid out in front of him. "No." He dropped the phone onto the table in front of him and scooted closer to Blair. "This…" he motioned toward the device, "didn't happen. I got drunk, Blair, that's all. I promise. I know that you have no reason to believe me, but I didn't –"
Instinctively she reached across the sofa to grasp his hand in hers. "It's okay. Jack is a snake; we all know that. Whatever led to this -"
"Listen to me, please," his eyes were wild with fear that she still didn't believe him. He needed her to know that he had truly changed, that nothing could ever drive him back to the old destructive habits that had robbed him of years with his daughter. "Jack set this up somehow. I didn't take any drugs, Blair, and I sure as hell didn't sleep with anyone. I have no idea who that is or how she got there."
She squeezed his hand and smiled kindly in reassurance. "I believe you, Chuck. I will never take anything Jack says or does at face value, but I need you to be honest with me. Why did he send me that picture?"
"Jack is about to lose the company," Chuck explained. "He'll do anything to derail my success. That's probably why he sent you the picture. He knew that I wouldn't be able to focus if you shut me out. It's just another ploy to screw with me."
"That much is obvious," she agreed. "But why was he here? What did he say that drove you to binge drinking?"
"Do we really have to talk about it?" He stood and walked to the bar, pouring the remnants of the whiskey decanter into a tumbler. She winced as she watched him down the rest of the liquid. "I've come to terms with it, and I'm not going to let it bother me, so I see no reason to rehash the details."
"Chuck," Blair asserted firmly to get his attention. She ripped the glass from his hand and said, "You're drinking at 7 in the morning. Whatever it is, you clearly haven't 'come to terms with it'. You can't run from your problems, and you know I'm not going to let this go."
"You've always been so stubborn," He gave her a sardonic smirk that revealed more about his internal anguish than his words did. "It's really annoying."
She returned the tumbler to the bar top and guided him back to the sofa. "Come on," she prompted. "Out with it."
She watched his jaw flex as he pursed his lips together, allowing the silence to stretch between them. He slowly ran his hands over his face and stared off into the empty space, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular. He was returning to his carefully practiced stoicism, trying to erase all evidence of emotions from his face. And he had the audacity to call her stubborn?
"Fine," he ground his teeth together and angled his body so that she couldn't see his face. He clenched his fists against his thighs and said, "Elizabeth is dying. She has end stage lung cancer." His voice was low and even, and his entire demeanor shifted to a coldness that she hadn't felt from him since they were teenagers. He turned back to her, and she gasped at the emptiness in his eyes. "Karma really is a bitch, I suppose."
Blair stared at him in stunned silence for several beats. Of all the things she expected him to say, she couldn't have anticipated this. She flashed back to the month that Bart died and how it had nearly killed Chuck – how he'd shut her out and mocked her for loving him, how he'd buried himself in as many lecherous distractions as he could, how his grief and self-loathing had allowed Jack to win, how at one point every ounce of self-worth he had relied on gaining his father's approval. Her chest tightened as she remembered how close she'd come to losing him forever on the rooftop of Victrola. Whatever you want to do to yourself, please don't do that to me.
A year later, she sat with him on the hospital floor when he finally let himself feel guilt, weakness, and vulnerability. He let her in, and she told him with the most heartfelt conviction that he carried people, that he was a stronger, better man than his father. She thought he'd believed it, that she had helped him believe in himself, but then Jack destroyed all of the progress he'd made by manipulating his insecurities. The most despicable part was that he used the only other woman that Chuck would ever fully open his heart to as bait. He used Chuck's personal trauma as an unwanted and unloved orphan to gain leverage in a real estate battle between a grown man and a teenager. As Blair had grown older and examined the whole ordeal from an adult perspective, she'd gained new insight into Chuck's motivations. She could never fully understand how he could trade her for a piece of property, but she could objectively see the power imbalance between Chuck and his uncle. She'd once made the comment that Chuck was the most powerful and persuasive man she'd ever met, but, in reality, he was a boy with no parental guidance trying to navigate the ruthless world of New York real estate without any substantial experience. His deal with Jack was a desperate attempt to hold onto the only thing that could prove Bart wrong. Even after death, Chuck was still fighting for his father's approval.
Now, it seemed that Jack was doing the exact same thing all over again. He was using Chuck's weaknesses against him. Maybe he was faking Elizabeth's illness, or maybe she really was dying. Either way, Jack would do anything to exploit Chuck's unfulfilled desire to have at least one of his biological parents love him unconditionally.
"Chuck," Blair closed the distance between them on the couch, placing her hand on his thigh. He flinched at the contact, but he turned toward her. She could see the emotions reflected in the depths of his dark irises, even though she knew he was desperately trying to hide his feelings from her. It was easier for him to be cold and uncaring than to face his pain. "I'm not going to let you pretend that this isn't hurting you. We've been through this before, but you can't shut me out this time. You can't hide from your feelings."
"This is different than Bart," he sneered. "I don't care about Elizabeth Fisher. She caused a hell of a lot of chaos, but she's nothing to me."
"That's not true, and you –"
"What do you want from me?" he growled, pushing Blair's hand forcefully from his leg. He stood to his feet and made his way to the floor-to-ceiling window on the far end of the room, watching a small rain drop slowly trickle down the glass before disappearing from view. It was one of those strange days where the sun was shining brightly but rain sprinkled down from the seemingly cloudless sky anyway. "Do you want me to cry and break down? I don't know the woman, and she doesn't give a shit about me. I had a moment of weakness after Jack told me, but I'm over it. It was just the shock. I'm ready to get on with my life, so please just drop it."
She joined him in front of the window, not touching him, but standing closely enough that he could feel the warmth from her body. "You can fool a lot of people. You can fool yourself, but you can't fool me. Elizabeth was important to you at one point. Maybe not the same way that Bart was, but you have to face this. Otherwise, it's going to eat you alive from the inside out, and Cora will be the one to pay the price for it."
His head snapped toward her at the mention of Cora's name. He wasn't willing to listen to reason, but he wouldn't do anything to hurt Cora, intentionally or not. "This has nothing to do with Cora." He meant for his words to sound acidic, but they came out flat.
"It does, though," she disagreed, tracing the trail of raindrops with her index finger. "You'll internalize this the way you do everything else. You've given Cora your entire heart, but ignoring your feelings about Elizabeth will inevitably take up some of that room; it will close you off to your daughter without you even realizing it."
"What do you suggest I do?" He turned toward her, lowering his guard so that she could see how deflated he felt. "I don't want a relationship with the woman who chose my scheming uncle over me, and, even if I did, it's too late. She's dying. The doctors have given her a few weeks at most. What am I supposed to do? Jack just told me so that the knowledge that both of my parents died not caring about me would eat at me. I won't let it. People die all the time; she's virtually a stranger anyway."
"Where is she?" she asked softly, reaching her hand out to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, raising his hand to rest on top of hers.
"London."
"We'll go say goodbye," she offered. "Like we did with Bart. You can tell her everything that you want to say, you can tell her what a shitty person she is and that she has no power over you anymore, or you can just take her flowers and bid her adieu. Either way, you need closure. This is the chance that you didn't get with Bart."
"Blair -"
"Please, Chuck," she implored. "Do this for yourself, for Cora…for us."
"Us?" he repeated, searching her eyes for her meaning. Her tentative nod was nearly imperceptible. He grasped her left hand in his and smoothed his thumb over her bare ring finger. "Your engagement?"
"I called it off," she explained quietly, biting her lip. Now wasn't the time to get into a discussion about what it all meant. Chuck was far too emotionally vulnerable, and she didn't want to give him false hope. She still wasn't sure what her intentions were. "I'm not making you any promises, Chuck. I'm still confused and exhausted. All I'm saying is that if we are ever going to stand any kind of a chance, we both need to be in the right place. That includes facing our fears –"
His shoulders relaxed, and he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers; she hadn't even realized how tense he had been throughout their conversation. They both closed their eyes as their arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace. "It's enough for now to know that there's a possibility," he whispered against her temple. He tilted her chin up to look at him, and the emotion in his eyes overwhelmed her. Her lip quivered as he slowly lowered his head and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.
When he pulled back, Blair tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. Chuck laced their hands together and said, "Come on. You need rest." He grabbed her suitcase and led her back to the master bedroom, quickly clearing his items from the bed. He turned down the comforter on the left side – her side, he thought – and motioned toward the en-suite bathroom. "Help yourself to anything in the bathroom. Towels and robes are in the closet. You can sleep here. I'll be on the couch if you need me."
Her dark eyes bore into his as she slipped off her shoes and placed them neatly in the corner. "Stay with me?"
His heart thudded in an unsteady rhythm as she reached out to place the palm of her hand against his chest. "Are you sure?" he rasped beneath a shaky breath.
"Just to sleep," she amended with a soft smile. "I don't think either one of us wants to be alone right now."
He returned her smile, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions as he pulled her into another hug. "I'm glad you're here, Blair. I missed you so much."
"I missed you, too, Chuck." She nuzzled her face into his shoulder, inhaling his masculine scent with a content sigh. "I was so scared when I got that text."
"You weren't mad?" he asked in astonishment. "I figured you would be furious."
"Oh, I was," she laughed. "But…something changed my mind." He arched an inquisitive eyebrow, and she dug through her bag to pull out the stack of envelopes Cora had left for her. He looked confused for a moment before recognition dawned on him, and his eyes widened with a mixture of fear and relief.
"Wha -" he swallowed. "Where did you get those?"
"Cora had them. She left them for me to read when she thought I was mad at you for missing our call. I told her you were sick, by the way."
"Blair, those…you were never meant to see those," he hung his head in what she could only assume was some kind of self-doubt or shame. "If there was anything that was out of line –"
"Chuck." She stopped him by gently lifting his jaw so that he was once again looking her in the eye. "These letters mean everything to me. I finally understand the years you were gone…your thought process. I can't believe that you wrote them for years."
He exhaled, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her palm. "It was my only connection to you. I couldn't bring myself to let you go."
"I know the feeling." She smiled prettily and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I'm going to take a quick shower."
When Blair was safely locked inside the bathroom, she let her hair down and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She was really doing this; nerves and excitement coiled in her stomach, but she couldn't escape the apprehension that washed through her. This was her - their - last shot, and they couldn't screw it up. She wasn't sure that she was ready to dive head first into a relationship with Chuck, but she knew that he was. She'd have to handle his feelings delicately while also being acutely aware of how their every decision would affect Cora. They couldn't give her false hope, so they'd have to be very careful about their interactions around her. The end of her engagement was certain to be enough change for a little girl, let alone the nuances of her parents' evolving relationship. Blair slipped out of her dress, hanging it gingerly on the rack behind the door. All of these were things to consider carefully, but, for now, she felt like she was finally moving forward. Happiness was within reach.
The hot water soothed her tired muscles, and she felt more than ready for a nap. After she dressed in a silk pajama set, she returned to the bedroom to find Chuck asleep on the right side of the bed. Inexplicable tears sprang to her eyes at the image, and she knew right then that she was almost home. She settled in between the satin sheets, pulling the heavy comforter over her body and fluffing the pillow beneath her head. Just as she closed her eyes, strong arms snaked around her waist and pulled her gently toward the center of the bed. She relaxed against the length of him, finding comfort in the warmth of his body engulfing hers. Slowly, the soft thrum of his steadily beating heart lulled her into a dreamless sleep.
A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Surgery and multiple personal issues impeded my progress, but I'm feeling much better now. I will be out of town much of July, and August is super busy. Unfortunately, the next update might take some time, but I promise to see this story through. Thank you all for sticking with me. This chapter officially pushed this story over 300 pages.