WHO: Isaac Montague and Tracey Davis-Montague WHEN: Saturday, July 9, 2005, late [backdated] WHERE: Isaac's flat WHAT: checking up on her husband RATING: tbd
She was in turmoil of what to do about Isaac. Despite how he'd hurt her by going to Flint she had to make herself understand that he'd been distraught and in pain and sleep deprived. And he didn't know. Isaac didn't know her feelings. Tracey'd not had the chance to tell him. Or better yet, show him. Even if that was practical.
Then the journals. Why was it words on paper always set them off? They couldn't be rational. Tracey wasn't asking for the world. She knew there would always be boundaries for them. Just as Isaac cared for Marcus, Tracey was in no hurry to give up Blaise. But that didn't mean she didn't want to know her husband more. Better. Without the contract hanging over them. She was sure he'd hinted at wanting that once.
So after their words, she sat in her shop. It wasn't enough that she just said she cared for him. Lip service was cheap and that's all she'd done. Taking a chance he'd actually left Flint's and went back to his flat, Tracey gathered up Cassandra and apparated to the corridor outside his apartment. It was there that her nerves struck. She'd never come here outside their appointed time together and despite him saying she was welcome, she feared tonight would not be that night. Just inside the door, she stopped to put Cass on her feet and stepped out of her shoes. The flat was dark but she took silent steps toward the back.
Tracey sighed with relief to see Isaac sprawled across the bed. He looked fine from what she could see in the darkness or at least fine enough from his even breathing. Careful of where he might be injured, she climbed over him and into the bed, pressing herself gently against his side as her arm wrapped across his middle. It didn't matter if the potion he'd taken was so strong he slept through her visit. At least she knew she was there. She pushed a soft kiss against his temple and nuzzled his jaw before resting her head against his shoulder. Her words were almost a whisper. "I'm sorry."