The Dream Bear

f o u r

"You're my kill of the night." ~Gin Wigmore

In the morning, Blaire visits.

I open the door and nearly drop my cup of coffee. Blaire has all of Wade's gifts around her, and the bear is in her arms. She peeks around the teddy bear and smiles impishly at me.

"So you guys broke up, huh?"

***

"Wow...now that I know the full story, I regret bringing these for you." She makes a face and shakes her head, and I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Blaire takes my hand and tells me I'll be okay.

I give her a dejected smile. "Make me some pancakes?"

She smiles reassuringly as she goes to the kitchen. I lean back against the sofa, closing my eyes and trying to rid myself of a growing headache. I can hear her banging around in the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients necessary for chocolate chip pancakes. The pitter-patter of soft rain against the window is a comforting sound, and I push aside the curtains, looking out at skyscrapers and an overcast sky."

"I think it's sweet your dad has set aside so much money for you. And that he let you come live so far away, too."

I shrug, though she can't see me. "I need to visit him. Apparently he has a new fiance." I scowl.

"Ouch. Which one is that now? Seventh?"

"Actually six, but who's counting?" I sigh. "Shouldn't it be illegal to marry so many times?"

Blaire snorts from the kitchen. "Well, even if he isn't the best husband, he is a pretty good dad."

I nod, a smile tugging at my lips thinking about the soft-spoken man. "That he is."

The doorbell rings, a piercing echo in the quiet apartment.

"I'll get it!" Blaire shouts. She scurries past me to the front door. I hear it open, then some hushed voices. "No, she doesn't-hey!"

Wade appears from the foyer, jaw clenched and eyes hard. "We need to talk." His eyes flicker over to Blaire's imposing form before returning to me. "Alone."

I glance at my friend. "Um...Blaire, I can finish the pancakes-"

She holds up a hand, silencing me. "Just be careful." She throws a scathing glare at Wade before snatching her coat and stalking out the door.

It is utterly silent. I clear my throat and walk past Wade into the kitchen, taking the pancakes off the heat and serving them on a plate. As I swath them in butter and pour myself a glass of milk, Wade taps his fingers along the bar. Finally, I sit down.

"I spent the whole time over thinking about what I'd say, but I can't remember a word."

"Maybe it's because your subconscious knows nothing you can say can make it better." I say it sparingly, like I'm just tossing the words out into the air, but I know they hurt him. He knows they are pointed, because he takes a deep breath.

"You didn't even let me-"

"I let you explain!" I cry. "I stood there and listened to you tell me that you're a womanizer. And I understood that you didn't get rid of that trash because you knew we'd be done soon enough. That you would go back to that lifestyle, and I would only be another set of lingerie in your drawer. I listened to you and I understood, but I refuse to let you ask me for anything more."

Wade swallows. His face is twisted with a confused sort of bitterness. "How shallow of you to only gather that from everything."

"Shallow!" I shout indignantly, standing from my seat so fast it clatters to the ground. Wade stands with me, approaching me, but I lunge for him, claws extended to scratch; my nails catch his face before he grabs my wrists, stopping my struggles. I let out a scream of frustration and try to kick him. He pins me against the bar, pressing his weight into me. I stare up at him with glassy eyes, teething the inside of my cheek to stop the explosion of words that wants to emerge. I'm breathing hard, all pent-up rage and carefully restrained emotion. My muscles slowly relax. "Get off of me," I whisper. He does, brow furrowed, standing close. A sudden urge to clean everything overwhelms me, and I try focusing on that instead of the anger I want to unleash on Wade.