Quote of the Chapter:

"Don't say I said to say it." - Don't say I said it, Sophie Hannah

Chapter Fifty-Four: (Don't) Say It

Really, he was a maniac for saying yes. One phone call. One phone call was all it took for Diane to reel Meliodas from his pit of self-loathing, her voice carrying an unusual sense of urgency over the crackly, static phone-line. Pulling at his hair, ticking at his jaw, Meliodas had instantly become a nervous wreck, a million thoughts all buzzing in his skull as he watched the clock tick, the seconds pass, until Diane's assigned meeting date.

Vague, everything in that phone call had been so vague. A date. A time. A place. No Elizabeth - but it would no doubt be about her, about how she's getting on now that she's removed the cancerous tumor of his problems from her life. At least, that was what Meliodas assumed.

So the dreaded day eventually came - a Tuesday - decorated with the speckly, spitting rain of London's late winter climate. January always was a miserable month, filled with the wet slosh of rain and the chilly nip of storms. Christmas had just finished and New Year's was another year away, passed just as quickly as a short page in a book.

Even as a child, Meliodas had never liked January much. Lonely, isolating, the first month of the year was always the hardest; January was the anniversary of when his mother died, the reminder of the neglected gravestone and its long-dead flowers. Everyone always grew so grumpy around that time. Stone-like and impenetrable, his father more or less became a living statue for that month. Not to mention the lack of money, everyone broke from the holiday festivities. January tended be a cause of widespread misery, contagious despair. And, more than anyone else, Meliodas would feel its effects.

Usually, Elizabeth would be a lovely distraction for this time of year. For a while, Zeldris had attempted to fill the void - until he was called up to Scotland one night, Gelda groaning over the phone as she announced the beginning of her labour. January fourteenth, the exact day that marked the beginning of the end. Their mother's death day.

"We haven't decided on a name yet," Gelda had been all aglow on the video call, a cheery smile spread on her pale face. In her arms was a bundle of yellow material, swaddled around a tiny reddened lump of skin with two beady, squinted eyes. "Zeldris suggested naming her after... well, we'll cross that bridge once we come to it. Right, Zel?"

Lovey-dovey. Both of them were the epitome of a happy, lovesick couple, throwing puppy eyes over and toward their shared creation. The little person who now symbolised their ever-lasting connection in this lifetime. A little baby girl - perhaps a sign of the two most important people Meliodas had lost in his life. A chance to right those wrongs, to be better this time.

About a day ago, Zeldris had sent over a picture of Meliodas' new niece. All gummy and innocent, she beamed at the camera, looking more confused than happy, her dark pupils large against the whites of her eyes. 'I'm the favourite' was written across her baby-grow, looping and with a pink heart dotting the 'i'; it matched with her hat and the mittens on her hands.

"You know it's true," Was all Zeldris had grumbled out at Meliodas' teasing. Blushing, shy, he had gone all soft now that he was a father - no, a dad. Because being a dad was so much different from being a father. "She's going to steal everyone's hearts."

Yeah. Maybe so. Elizabeth seemed to be awash with joy, publicly posting her congratulations and a picture of a little basket she and Diane had put together. Sometimes she could be heard in the background of Zeldris' calls, echoing off the speaker of Gelda's phone as the pair chattered happily about babies and play dates and her own nephew, Chion.

On the surface, it seemed like Elizabeth was doing well. Bit by bit, day by day, she was building her new life around Meliodas' absence, letting her body heal over the mark of his injury. The scar of his actions. At least, it seemed that way until Diane called one day (a dreary Sunday), hinting that things were actually not going so well.

Entering his reason for meeting her today.

"Glad you could make it alone today," Diane's scrutiny wasn't hidden too much when Meliodas walked into the Wildflower Cafe, the agreed neutral meeting spot for their little debriefing. Already, Diane had ordered, a huge slab of chocolate cake and a cup of tea sitting on her side of the table. Bright, vibrant, her orange scarf was hung over the back of her chair.

"Well, I prefer to be alone," Taking his own seat, ignoring the sting of Diane's words, Meliodas sighed, "Speaking of, what's going on? Usually you let me mope for a while."

"Usually, your moping only affects you," Diane fired back pointedly, taking a large bite out of her cake. Stirring at her tea with her other hand, silver spoon clattering against the rim, she added, "Elizabeth's been pretty down recently. You have everything to do with it, Meliodas, and you remember what I told you in uni, right?"

"I break her heart, you break my arm," Meliodas recited almost perfectly, toneless and expressionless. Turning slightly, he held his arm out, over the table, inviting Diane to take it, grab it, break it. Maybe it would make up for how shitty of a person he'd been. "Go ahead then. Get it over with."

For a moment, Diane looked as if she were considering that option. Flickering over Meliodas' face, taking in the shadows of fatigue and the messier scruffy hair, she looked as if she were tempted to twist at his arm and fracture it clean. He did deserve it, after all. Meliodas deserved much more than a broken arm and a few hours wasted in A&E.

But this situation wasn't hers to make right. There were things - personal things - that Elizabeth and Meliodas needed to sort out between themselves. Things that even he knew they couldn't run away from forever. Life always caught up to you.

"I don't want to break your arm, you idiot," Shaking her head, pushing his arm back to his side of the table, Diane let out a harsh sigh. Mixing at her tea once more, she remained silent for a second, musing over something. Then, taking in a deep breath, Diane admitted tiredly, "I need you to talk to her, Mel. Check up on her. She needs it."

"She needs it?" Meliodas echoed, somewhat confused by the unexpected turn of events.

Elizabeth... needing him? Was this some kind of joke? Was the universe trying to be extra cruel, provide him with some kind of false hope before it harshly reminded him of reality? Of the life he now led and the path he had chosen when he kept the truth from Elizabeth? Was this all just to knock him down further? Reduce him to nothing but empty numbness and bone?

Elizabeth? Needing him? Yeah, right. That girl didn't need him around, dragging her down. Part of the reason why Meliodas had even let her go, decided to be a temporary thing, was because she deserved so much better. Better than this. Better than his lies. Better than him. So much better.

Even if everything within him screamed differently.

"She needs it," Nodding, Diane confirmed her own words. Furrowing, pinching, her forehead filled with wrinkled lines as she tsked, "She won't say it, but she needs to hear from you."

"And how do I know what you're saying is true?" Studying Diane, trying to sense what exactly she was trying to get out of this meeting, Meliodas remained skeptical. Careful. Because all he ever was when it came to Elizabeth was careful. Careful and stupid and overly hesitant. So hesitant that it had cost him everything. "How do I know that you're not setting me up?"

Rolling her eyes at the question, Diane finished off her tea. Then, with a sly smile, she proudly announced, "Because I'm telling you not to say that I said it."

She wants it to come from you.