"They returned it. The gift I sent to my niece."
They were lying in the bed, her back to his chest, his long fingers slowly combing through her hair in a soothing gesture. He had carried her in here, past the destruction in the living room of the hotel suite, past the fragments of glass and the photograph lying on the floor, and held her close until the blue dawn broke and she calmed down enough to stop weeping.
"Who are 'they'?"
Her answer, though short, held a world of sadness. "My family."
His hand continued its slow, repeated voyage through the waves of her hair. "Why?"
She sighed and was silent for a long time. When she finally replied, her voice was soft and small.
"I was married once. A long time ago, until about five years back. We were together since high school. I thought that we would be able to overcome everything, but he turned out to be a cheating bastard. Seven year itch or some nonsense like that. So I divorced him.
"But sometimes, I wonder if maybe… maybe I shouldn't have. He pays me alimony every month, pays for this suite, pays for Reeves… lifestyle maintenance and all that bullshit. But it left him free to just run off with his little bitch."
Keary's arm tightened around her. "You did the right thing."
She gave a short laugh. "Did I?" She sighed before continuing. "My family told me to just let it go. Forgive and forget. They said that it was natural for a man to get restless, especially after so many years, that it couldn't be that serious. They said I would bring disgrace if I left him. But I was in too much pain to listen, and now they won't let me have any contact with my niece, even though she was like a daughter to me…"
Her voice, already quiet, dropped to almost a whisper, as if she were talking to herself. "She turned 16 two weeks ago. I thought, if I sent her something, just something small, didn't ask to see her, or talk to her, didn't leave a note or anything with my name on it, they would let it through. But they sent it back… They probably don't want her to turn into someone who makes the same mistakes as me." Her body curled tighter into itself. "I should have just let it be. I shouldn't have been so proud." Her loneliness filled the room.
For a long time, Keary stayed silent, before he finally said, "I wish my aunt had cared about me half as much as you care for your niece. Maybe if she had stepped in and stopped my father, I wouldn't be living here on my own."
Hearing this, she shifted to face him. "What happened?"
His eyes were closed, his hair a dark shock against the white pillows. "He's always despised me. Nothing I did, nothing anybody did, could get him to change his mind. So my grandfather sent me to the city for school, to get away from him."
"When was that?"
"A few years ago. Five? Six?" He shrugged. "The days just go by."
"Are you still in touch?"
His lips crooked sardonically. "They send money, I think, but I survive on my own. Playing for bars, like where you met me, and some other stuff. It's enough."
She touched his hair softly, stroking it away from his face. "You're quite young, aren't you?"
"Not too young to fend for myself." His eyes opened to look at her. The gaze they exchanged, silver and honey, held a similar sorrow, his with a hint of defiance. She thought she understood his constant rebelliousness better now.
"I like that about you," she said. "Your independence. I'm just living off my ex-husband's money right now." She gave a wry smile. "I wanted to make him pay a bit more for putting me in this situation."
He laughed softly. "I see. Thus the mess outside."
"Yeah." She giggled. "They'll send him the bill." Her laughter bounced off the ceiling. Then she continued, "But you know, I've always wanted to have a place that's just my own. Maybe a restaurant, or a bar, or a club…" Her eyes sent a mischievous twinkle in Keary's direction, "Maybe with some live piano music…"
He laughed again. "Piano music in a club? Lady, you need to do some research if you want real customers and not just a laundering front."
She swatted at him playfully, and he caught her hands and pulled her into his arms. His scent, now familiar, made her sigh as she relaxed into his embrace.
"I'm sorry to put this on you," she murmured. "You were the only person I could think to call."
"Mmm." The baritone of his voice, especially resonant this close, was light. "I'm sure you'll find some way to make it up to me."
She knew he was joking, but she did truly want to thank him somehow, for rushing here and staying by her side even though he had no real reason to do so. She racked her brain, trying to think of something she could give to him.
"Edith."
"What?" Her thoughts interrupted, she tilted her face up toward him, and found him gazing at her with a gentleness that she hadn't seen on him before.
"You can do it."
"Do what?"
"Your dream. Of setting up your own place. You'd be splendid."
She couldn't remember ever wanting to kiss anybody this badly. But she managed to restrain herself, remembering their agreement, and instead rolled herself up to straddle him.
"Uh, E?" He looked up at her, argent eyes uncertain. "Are you sure you want to…?"
Her hands were already tugging his shirt over his head, before going to work on his pants. "Shut up. I'm a damsel in distress. Comfort me already, dammit."
...
A few nights later, she had him join her in attending a fundraising gala. All eyes were on them as he helped her out of the car and up the carpeted stairs of the foyer. As she made her rounds to greet individuals among the sea of people, he kept quiet, a shadow that only deigned to give a grimace when she introduced him.
"Stop scowling, darling," she mumbled at him through a fixed smile as she took his arm. "You're scaring people."
"I don't know why we're here if you didn't even want to come. Saying no is a perfectly valid RSVP," he grumbled.
"It's been a long time since I saw all my friends." Her smile widened momentarily at someone in passing.
"Yours, or your ex-husband's?"
"I still have a right to be here." When he didn't bother to reply, she got annoyed. "Go fetch us drinks. There are some people I need to find."
"Yes ma'am." He brought an arm in front of his chest in a mocking bow, then slipped into the crowd before she could roll her eyes at him. Knowing he would take his time returning, she busied herself with socialising.
He managed to find the bar without much difficulty, and made himself comfortable. In truth, he had just been masking the distaste he felt towards everyone at the event. The dinner was just a flimsy excuse for obscene displays of wealth, the simpering superficiality of their regard for one another, and the circle-jerk congratulations that went around. It disgusted him. The less-fortunate had no use for these events. The only reason why he had agreed to accompany her was because she had still been feeling down over the past few days, and he'd wanted to make sure she was alright.
At that moment, he caught sight of a familiar face that shattered his train of thought. Immediately, he averted his own face to avoid being seen, and when the bartender turned his back, he reached across the counter to grab a bottle, then swiftly disappeared through the nearest exit.
...