cannibal; kendall roy

75

Kendall and Marguerite Roy sat in silence on their sofa. They were less than five feet apart from one another. He had been drinking. She wasn't. For obvious reasons. It had been a long—a very long and perilous night. Daggers had been pulled out, and shoved into one another's backs. Roman and Kendall had lost Mencken to Lukas Matsson—who had promised an American CEO.

Something that Shiv Roy had suggested, and then suggested herself for. But—ultimately, like the GoJo team, and Lukas himself, Marguerite knew that wouldn't be the case. No. Oskar and Ebba had made that clear. They had a low opinion of the Roy family, as if they were expired seafood, or sushi from a bodega. They were dirty and American.

Cheap and shiny plastic toys—that broke apart and screeched. They were used to polished blocks, nicely sliding together as slender arms stacked them taller and taller.

Hell, they had free healthcare.

Marguerite wasn't sure how they felt about her—but she knew it wasn't as bad as they felt about the Roy's. She was French, by heart—and fucking their boss. Who had just pulled out a very real, and very legal contract for her. Something that promised her more than a relationship—something that constituted that she wouldn't be trapped. Stuck at home, watching after children. That she would have options.

But now she sat across from her husband. The man who had shoved her down into her place—who she had loved for so long, and probably still did—because she hadn't quite been acting at his father's funeral. She hadn't.

It was real to her. Especially in the short kiss she'd shared with him. He'd tasted bitter. She liked it.

Neither of them knew quite what to say.

They were both a bit lost.

Beyond lost, actually.

"How far along are you?" Kendall starts, jumping right into logistics. "Like, you've seen a doctor. Right?"

"Yeah. Um, I went on Election Day. Lukas told me to. So I did. About two months." She fiddles with her hoop earring. It was a set Kendall had bought her. She'd worn them for sentimental value—for the funeral, and now she felt as if they were pulling down on her earlobes.

"We were sleeping together then" he says "Things were good then." He clears his throat "Were you uh—Had you seen him yet?"

"I had. France was um—the third time we met up."

"The third? Uh— I was thinking it was the first" Kendall snickers a little before shaking his head to himself. "So it's either of us. It's either your husband, or you've got a Swedish baby daddy."

"Don't say that. It's—It's just gross, and demeaning."

"You're the one who cheated on her husband. You don't have morals. Why uh—Why can't you say that? How about I'm sorry?"

"You fucked my career, Ken."

"You would've been bored. I know you, Lou. More than anyone else. Do you think I'd ever hurt you?"

"Yes, because you did."

He rolls his eyes, leaning in "You're much better when you don't work. Like less tense. You know it. Everyone does. The world is peaceful. Besides, you didn't want a fucking nanny. I would've been happy to get you one. You didn't want one."

"I was raised by nannies and look at me. Do you think I wanted that for someone with a clean slate?"

"Lou, honey. Come here."

She makes a face, pulling a pillow into her lap instead. Not moving any closer to him.

"I'm serious, Lou. Come here."