My lovelies,

It is of course a double update, because A. I can never write short scenes or short stories, and B. You asked for it. But can you imagine if I wrote slower, didn't update every day, or decided to squirrel the second half? :P Just imagine getting to the end of this chapter... and then having to wait! Haha!

Love,

K. xx 

***

"Hey, Fee," he said and gave her a wide smile that she used to find so charming.

This is a nightmare. Wake up, Fiona.

"Nate?"

"Did you expect someone else?" he asked and chuckled. "Here you go, babe."

He lifted his hands, and she saw a bouquet - large red roses, uniform, and unnaturally perfect - and a box of chocolates with a large velvet bow of the matching shade of red. Fiona swallowed a knot in her throat.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked with another chuckle.

Is there a way not to?

Fiona slowly took a step back, and he walked up the stairs of the porch. He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. So cold. It seemed to her that the kiss was longer and more tender than his normal greetings.

"You look lovely, Fee. Countryside suits you, I reckon," he said. "Just look at these rosy cheeks."

He stepped deeper into the hall, and she turned away from him, slowly closing the door. In and out, Fiona. In and out. You'll pass out if you don't start breathing. She placed her hand on the lock. Turn it really, really slowly. You have about three seconds to gather your thoughts.

Will.

He's in the kitchen.

Oh god. Will...

"It's nice," Nate drew out, probably looking around. "Actually, that's gert lush! Your big city publisher is posh! Just look at the furniture and the lights. That's the Skandi style I was talking about, remember, that's what I want for our flat."

Fiona forced her disobedient body to move, and faced him.

"Nate, I–" What are you going to even say, Fiona? "We need to talk."

"Yeah, babe, we do," he said and gave her a wink. "Or did you have something else on your mind?" He laughed. "Silly Fee. But your naughty thoughts will have to wait. I–" He held a theatrical pause. "–have some news."

"You want to sell the pub," she said, and his face dropped.

"What?" He recovered quickly and chuckled. "Ah, it's Alice, innit? She told you. She'd showed up in the pub last night, said you'd spoken. Crazy old hag."

He turned away from her and started walking into the lounge. Probably to hide his face just as she did a minute ago. He's trying to figure out what to say too.

"I bet she'd gotten it all wrong," he said. "You see, Fee, it was all so quick. This company approached me, and they–"

He stopped, and Fiona, who was following him, took one more step and almost bumped in him.

"Oh hello," Nate said.

"Morning," Will answered.

Oh god.

Fiona's eyes flew to Holyoake's face, and she met his glacial blue eyes.

"Um–" Nate drew out and then barked a throaty laugh. "Blimey, talk about awkward. You're John Holyoake, aren't you? Fee showed me your site. And I see that you are in your jimjams." He looked at Fiona. "Babe, you aren't exactly dressed either." His eyes narrowed into angry slits, and he gave out another fake venomous laugh. "So... Are you sleeping with him?"

"This is Will Holyoake, John's brother," Fiona said quietly.

Her whole body felt stiff, and it took a massive effort to make a few steps into the lounge. She stopped between the two men, turned sideways to each of them.

"But you are fucking him, aren't you?" Nate said and clapped his hands. Fiona jolted. "Seriously, Fee, that's too predictable even for you."

Fiona saw Nate's eyes size up Will, from the cane he was leaning on, to the mug of coffee in his left hand, which Will calmly lifted to his lips. There was the second mug on the coffee table, and she assumed it was for her.

"It doesn't matter," she started. "We need–"

"It doesn't matter?!" Nate interrupted her. "Wow, Fee, that's priceless. I mean, I'm not surprised, really, considering your history, but–"

"You should let her talk, mate," Will said in an even low voice, and Nate made an enraged hissing noise through his closed teeth.

"You know what, mate," he said and took a step towards Will. Oh no. "I'm going to assume you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," Nate said. "So just step away, alright? And let me and the missus have a word here."

Holyoake's eyes shifted from Nate to Fiona. She saw a question in his eyes - and she nodded. He made that small movement of his neck - like a tilted half nod - and started walking towards the kitchen. The door closed behind him, and Fiona looked at Nate.

"Wow, Fee, just– wow. Three days!" he jeered and dramatically raised his arms. "Or was it less? How quickly did you open your legs?"

"Nate, I know you're angry right now, but–" She chewed her bottom lip. "What does it matter now?"

He looked her up and down, and shook his head. "You're something, Fee. I mean, that's cold even for a slag like you."

Fiona jerked, like from a slap.

"I've never– never been a slag," she whispered. "You kept saying it, but–"

"You know what? I don't want to listen to your excuses and your whinging," he interrupted and threw the bouquet and the chocolates on the table. "Let's talk shop then, heh, Fee? What's it going to be then? Are you staying here, painting and shagging around? Clearly, you found a warm cosy spot for yourself, with a spastic fella, of all things."

People aren't things, Fiona thought. And 'spastic' was such a cruel offensive term. But also, that's what he thinks Will has? Palsy?

"Yes, I want to stay here. I still have three and a half weeks of my–"

Nate burst into bitter laughter, interrupting her again. "You amaze me, Fee! It's like you don't even understand what's happening. It just doesn't register in your defective noggin, does it? God, I mean, I've been dealing with this– subnormal thing of yours, whatever it is, for years," he said and twirled his finger near his temple, "and yet, you still manage to surprise me!"

Fiona frowned and fidgeted with the sleeve of her jumper.

"I understand you're hurt and angry right now," she said. "And you're lashing out. But it's not like we've been happy together. And you've also had affairs, Nate. It just tells me we don't belong together," she finished quietly and threw him a soft look.

It was odd to look at him right now. It had only been three days - and yet, it's like she was looking at someone else's husband. She had all her memories - how his curly sand-coloured hair felt under her fingers, how scratchy this blonde stubble of his was, his lips, the familiar exasperated expression in his eyes - but she felt nothing. She was just... sad.

"Nate, I'm sorry," she said. "I really am."

"You should be, Fee. You fucked up our marriage," he said.

Pain slashed across her, somewhere under the ribs - and then she took a shuddered breath.

"I– didn't," she said quietly. "It was never good, Nate. And I know that right now you maybe want to–"

"You know?" he hissed and took a step towards her. "You seem to think you 'know' a lot. And that you 'understand' a lot. Except you don't." He pursed his lips, and gave her a look over. She could see he was pondering her, and then his face softened. "Fee, babe, what are we doing?" He shook his head with a low laugh. "That's not– us. We don't do this. We can talk it through."

"What 'it?'" she asked.

The similarity to what she'd once said to Will scraped at her mind unpleasantly.

"This... crisis," he said, and he was now very close to her. "It happens to all married couples. Remember, what Dr. Cullen said? Considering your issues–"

"I don't have any issues," Fiona interrupted him. Oh, this felt good. "The only wrong thing I did is sleeping with another man before I got the divorce from you. And I know it was unfair, to both of you, but–"

"'Unfair?!'" he barked. "You left home, and in a couple of days you're already whoring yourself out to some invalid. And what divorce, Fee? We aren't getting a divorce! You aren't getting away with it so easily."

Fiona winced away from him.

"We are getting a divorce," she said in a lost tone. "I'm not– not staying with you. I'll find a lawyer, and–"

He suddenly lunged ahead, and his face was right in front of her. "I'm not divorcing you, Fee! You know what's going to happen instead? I'll have you evaluated and institutionalised," he gritted through his teeth. "They'll lock you up in a nuthouse, just like your Mum."

Her lips started to quiver.

"I'm not crazy," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm not ill, or subnormal– And I know you're only repeating what my Da used to say. Is it because you want everything to go back to how it was? Because– because I just can't see what you can gain from being married to me. Just divorce me, and you'll get a half–"

And that's when she understood.

"You want to sell the pub and take all of the money," she said slowly. "And you won't divorce me because you'd have to give up half of it, because I still have all the rights to it. What was your plan then?" she exclaimed. The more she talked, the firmer her voice was. "To take the money and just leave me?"

He clenched his jaws, and veins bulged on his neck.

"Because if it was," she continued, "I'm afraid I can't let you do it. If you came to me and told me that you wanted to separate, I wouldn't have even asked about the money." She frowned. "I am rather clueless when it comes to it. You've always taken care of it, so–"

"Shut up," he hissed, and Fiona closed her mouth sharply. "God, you never stop talking, do you?" he exclaimed and gave her a disgusted look. "You can drive a man crazy with this blathering."

He made a few paces across the room, and then back. For some reason, Fiona couldn't stop thinking that the stylish dark jeans and the tailored, expensive looking jacket on him were new. She'd hardly paid attention to his clothes before - he took them to the dry cleaner's himself and did his own laundry - but she knew these were new. He had a great body, and he worked out four times a week in a gym. At least that's what he used to say he did those evenings. It was funny to her that she used to think she was jammy to have a man like him. There'd been no 'having' him, though - and being with a man had nothing with possessing, she knew now - and 'jammy' definitely wasn't the word she'd use in regards to her marriage now.

He stopped in front of her and gave her a heavy glare.

He's calculating his options. How come you never realised how cold his grey eyes are?

"Fee, I don't want to divorce you," he said quietly. "And you're right. I have– had affairs," he said and gave her a soft look. "And I– regret them, Fee, I do. But now you know how it happens, don't you?" He means Will. He's comparing his affairs with what you have with Will. "We aren't perfect. We are human, Fee. You and I... And we made mistakes, but we can put them behind us, and– start over. What do you say, babe?" he asked and gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Let's give it another go, heh?"