Nyx Eris

Chapter 7: Wind

She had tried to move on, three different times; all of which had been in vain.

The first time, jealousy had amplified the worst in her when he had taken interest in another girl.

The second time, she had done a fine job of moving on; she had thought.

Until he came to London.

Until he became a fixture in her group of mates. Until that night in the snow.

The third time, she had been determined.

Determined to the point that instead of telling him to get lost when he had walked into the bookshop he had known she would be in, she had eventually married him.

Had kids with him.

Lived with him for eighteen years.

That was then.

That was in her teens. In her twenties.

She had failed to move on from him the other times, but the fourth; the fourth would succeed where the others had not.

"If you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as you say you do, you wouldn't be moving into his old place," said her brother.

"It was for sale," she said. "Hand me that box."

"Lots of homes were for sale, Bren." Brandon handed her the requested box. "You chose that one for a reason."

"I chose it for the girls," said Brenda. "That's all. Are you going to help your pregnant sister pack, or what?"

"You're the organizer," said Brandon.

"And you're the one who wields a mighty tape dispenser," said Brenda.

Brandon helped her tape up the boxes.

He turned a scrutinizing eye on Brenda.

"Brandon, I told you," she began.

"Isn't about that," he said. "Bren, you're really going to have to tell the others soon, unless you're planning for them to find out without telling them. You, uh, aren't getting any smaller."

"Thanks," she said, voice saturated in sarcasm.

Brenda would have liked to call Brandon uncouth, but he did have an unfortunate point, proven in the progression of photos she had sent to Dylan.

She had perhaps months left yet to successfully conceal the pregnancy in her costume as, true to her word, Tish hadn't said anything.

Brenda had a week at most to conceal it with her normal, everyday twenty-first century wardrobe, if not less than that.

"I just don't know how to tell everyone," she said. "I could barely tell you or Dylan. What am I supposed to say, mother of two on the brink of divorce got herself knocked up again?"

"Since we both know the gang won't care about that, I take it this tabloid speak of yours is more about Dad," said Brandon.

"You know he's just bursting at the seams that my marriage is a bust, whilst yours has never been healthier," said Brenda.

"I wouldn't exactly call it a bust," said Brandon. "I may not be able to tolerate Dylan much at all right now, but your kids and all the years you spent together can't be considered a bust. Even Dad wouldn't call that a bust, because of his grandkids."

"You sound like Val."

"Then maybe you should listen to both of us. Instead of your depression."

"Now you sound like Dylan."