Some Day One Day (Maylor AU)

Chapter 76

"Look," Brian sighed. "I don't like where we left things, and I want to make it up to you." He shifted uncomfortably, racking his brain for the best way to articulate what he wanted to say. "There's a concert this weekend and I was thinking—"

"Who are you talking to?"

The professor's head snapped to the right, where he saw Chrissie standing in the doorway of their bathroom. She leaned against the threshold with her hair messily clipped back and a robe draped over her shoulders, the garment that barely touched the top of her knees cinched loosely at her waist. It was late at night, almost the next day, but neither of them could fall asleep. They had too much to think about; too many decisions to make.

"Uh, no one," he rattled off, his cheeks burning in embarrassment and his heart pounding against his rib cage. The rhythm was so intense, he wouldn't have been surprised if Chrissie could hear it too.

"No one?" the headmistress repeated in disbelief.

Brian nodded his head in agreement, clinging to the sides of the sink and tapping his foot as he awkwardly waited for his wife to leave the room so he could resume practicing his speech. Speech wasn't the right word for it, though. It was more so an appeal he was preparing, a proposal of sorts, and he knew he only had one chance to get it right.

"I heard you say you don't like where we left things," the headmistress murmured, peeling herself away from the threshold and entering the small room. She joined Brian's side, scanning him up and down before turning her attention to his reflection in the mirror. She dared to wrap her hands around his upper arm and rest her cheek against his shoulder, confessing, "I feel the same way."

If it wasn't for the tears that began to glisten in Chrissie's eyes, Brian would've told her that it wasn't the two of them he was referring to just moments ago, but him and Roger. However, he knew that look, and he knew what that look would turn into if he decided to be honest with her. So, for her sake—and his—he kept his lips sealed.

"How did we get here, Brian?" she whispered, nuzzling up against him—an action that, just a year ago, would've sent tingles down the professor's spine. Now it elicited a sense of unease, the affectionate gesture making Brian wish she would've just left his talking to himself alone, rather than analyzing it and believing that what was on his mind pertained to them. "Hmm?" she hummed when her husband remained silent.

"I-I don't know, Chrissie," he mumbled, his grip on the porcelain growing tighter. "I don't know."

"Do you think we can ever go back?" the headmistress wondered aloud, breaking her gaze away from the reflective surface and averting it up to the professor's that took a similar path. "You know, to the way things used to be?" She plucked one of her hands from his arm and began to trace it on his chest, watching her finger move along arbitrary lines. Brian watched with her, his brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what she was doing; why she was suddenly acting so strange, when earlier she couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him. What transpired that changed her mind?

The headmistress returned her attention to him and continued, "I remember when we could talk to each other for hours; when we couldn't wait till we were alone, so we could tear off each other's clothes and do what we'd been thinking about doing all..." her hand trailed further down his torso, "...day..." passed over his navel, "...long," and landed on the front of his pants.

Brian couldn't help himself, his body reacting in a way that his mind didn't want to. He gathered enough sense, though, to separate the two of them and ask, "What the hell are you doing, Chrissie?"

"I'm just trying to make things right!" she cried, her seductive approach being thrown out the window and replaced by one of defense. "For fuck's sake, Brian, I can't be the only one here who hates what we're doing—lying to each other; pretending to be happy when we're not. I don't want to lie to you anymore, and I want to be happy with you...actually happy, not just to keep up appearances." She grabbed at her hand and twisted the small ring off her finger, holding it up and mumbling, "We're married, Brian. We made a promise to each other. To have and to hold from this day forward—"

"For better, for worse," the professor chimed in dejectedly, hanging his head.

"For richer, for poorer," the headmistress picked up.

"In sickness and in health—"

"Until death do us part," Chrissie finished, her voice barely above a whisper as she shoved the ring back in its place. "Brian, you're the only person I said those words to and actually meant it."

The professor scoffed. "Yeah, but that's only because you couldn't say them to—"

He didn't even have to say his name for Chrissie to know it was Stewart that he was talking about. "I love him, Brian," she confessed with a sigh, "but I can't rely on him like I do you. I need you." She took a step forward and wrapped his hands in hers, attracting his reluctant gaze and asking, "I know it won't be easy, but can we please stop letting our feelings for other people get in the way of us being together? Those people...they're things of our past. We have a daughter to raise now—"

"But, Chrissie, she's not even mine!" Brian blurted out, the thought rolling off the tip of his tongue before he could even have the chance to think about what he was saying. The headmistress instantly retracted her hands and jumped back—her eyes wide with terror.

"W-What do you mean she's not yours? Of course, she's yours!"

"Then why would you have brought up that whole thing about us not being a family?" he asked, the red in his cheeks growing darker as he continued to respond without control over what he said. The headmistress began to blush herself, pressing her lips together in resistance to answering his question honestly. "I mean, Chrissie, you can't just say something like that and not expect me to think that—"

"All I meant when I said that was me thinking about what would happen if...if we broke up," she tried to convince him, lying through the skin of her teeth. Chrissie was a master at that, lying on the spot. It was the only way she could lead the life she wanted to under her parents' conservative noses, and even though she'd moved on and out long ago, old habits die hard. "I just thought that, with everything that happened, we were going to get a divorce, and I started thinking about raising Liz on my own, and I just...I don't think I can do it alone. I don't want to do it alone. I want to do it with you." The last sentence came out as a whisper, spoken so softly that it was a miracle Brian caught it.

The professor tipped his head down to hide the tears that started to waver in his eyes. He couldn't deny his love for that little girl, even after knowing she might not be his. Sure, she might have only been a few months old, but those few months brightened Brian's world like no other. In all the obstacles that were thrown his way, he could always count on seeing her bubbly face after a long day at work, and hearing her infectious giggle when he tried to bathe or dress her, and rocking her to sleep in her dark room while telling her softly all the things he couldn't tell anyone else, and having her listen without any judgment.

He loved her, and leaving her behind was something he hadn't thought about when he decided to try and run away with Roger for the second time. He'd only thought about how he was going to bring it up, and what he would do if—when Roger said yes, for he wasn't willing to take no for an answer. It was clear that what the two men wanted was each other, but something seemed to always get in the way. First it was Tim, then it was Chrissie, and now Liz. The poor professor could never catch a break.

"I love you, Brian," Chrissie muttered, hoping it might encourage a change of heart. "And I know things have been tough, but we can get through this, right?" She dared to place a hand on his upper arm and give it a slight squeeze, repeating with a choked throat, "Right?"