Ana swallowed, eating at her food quietly.
"Is it good?" Scott asked.
"Yes."
He set his fork down, taking a sip of his champagne for the first time that night.
"Alright. Let's cut to the chase. I haven't been around. You're upset. Let's fix it. What will it take?"
She cocked her head, brow lifting infinitesimally. "I'm not upset."
"You're obviously upset, Morgana."
"Ana. It's just Ana." She smiled. "I'm not upset Scott. I'm not anything. I told you. You don't need to do this."
He clenched his jaw. If that was true what did this mean? His lashes touched, as he looked at her, his blue eyes clear.
He was handsome, she thought, with a smile, as she looked away.
At first she was upset. She was furious. Enraged. Because all she'd wanted was not to be alone. But he abandoned her anyway. And the utter hopelessness of it all, and after she bore him the son he wanted so badly.
But...then she realized she wasn't alone. She had the sadness. And as horrible as it was, as suffocating as it used to be-it was the most reliable thing she had.
It felt like a hand on her neck, and at first the fingers tightly curled around her throat, choking her, drowning her, filling her with desperation. But slowly, as the years went by, the grip loosened.
Not the sadness. The need to get away from it. Now it was normal. It was comforting. Where she was used to. The only thing that never had and never would abandon her.
She chuckled.
Scott put his tongue in his cheek, as she smiled, smiling falling, as she lifted the glass to her mouth, her hands faltering with shake, before she took a sip.
"I don't need to spend time with my wife?"
"You didn't before. No need to suddenly change habits." She chuckled. She closed her eyes for a moment, sighing.
He sighed with her. "I'm trying to fix this, Ana. You're not helping. Let me fix it. Let's talk about. Tell me what you want."
"I want to go to sleep. And I want more wine. That's really all."
Scott nodded slowly. He should try to draw it out. A fight then.
"I saw Munez," he stated. "We had lunch."
"Oh?"
He nodded, tenting his fingers. "He's leaving his wife."
She purses her lips. "Are you leaving yours?" She said, her eyes unfocused.
He frowned. "No."
She shrugged. "Poor Munez. He must be so alone right now. Why don't you call him. Give him company."
"You hate Munez."
"Not really."
"You hate me around Munez."
She chuckled. "Not anymore. It was childish. It's fine. He's your...friend. You should be with him right now."
His stomach turned. "Is this your round about way of telling me you...don't care who I fuck?"
She licked her lips. "I can't stop you from doing anything."
"Don't say that, Morgana. Listen, you don't have to do this. And you don't have to fake that smile-"
Her smile dropped, making him pause.
"Oh...you." He hasn't realized she was actually faking a smile. He just...thought that was what he was supposed to say.
What a devastating difference. His breath fled him, making him inhale deeper.
She snorted. "Is this how it works? Am I doing it right?"
He purses his lips. "Isn't that...something."
She put her smile back on. "Isn't it?"
She let out a breath.
"Just speak up, I want you to tell me what's going on."
"You don't want me to," she said quietly.
"What's in your mind right now? Just spit it out!"
She chuckled. "Oh Scott..."
Love me! Love me! Love me!
She swallowed, pushing her food away. Scott kept trying to decipher her. Her body suddenly looked very fragile like that, draped in all the things he'd bought her.
A sickly feeling overwhelmed him. "What was your childhood like, Ana? You never talk about it."
She pushed her plate further away. "I don't remember it."
He swallowed. "I know you don't have a good relationship with your mother. You never said why."
She shifted. "Why are you asking all of sudden?"
He shrugged. "I realized I didn't know. We've been married for 10 years and I didn't know."
"Oh. Well. It's doesn't matter now."
"Sure it does. You haven't spoken to your mother in at least ten years. You never mention your childhood-"
"Scott-" she licked her lips before forcing a smile. "I told you I don't remember. All I remember is...my mother sat me in a room, and walked away. And I sat there. Waiting. For I don't know how long. My body started hurting. And then she came back. That's all I remember. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"
He looked away. "...Yes."
She nodded curtly.
He said nothing for a moment, not know exactly what to say. So he switched to the way he expressed himself easiest.
"I want to buy you something, the color of your eyes," he sipped his champagne. "It'll be hard to find an exact match. They look different in the light."
She snorted. "No they don't."
He smiled. "Yes. They do. They're a little lighter in the middle. Brighter."
She looked away, making him do the same for a moment. He leaned across the table, cupping her chin, forcing her gaze to meet his.
"Lighter in the middle," he murmured. "That hasn't changed."
