He had to tell her Who: Nic and Elen Where: Their shared flat When: October 20th, evening, after this What: The talk they've been avoiding Rating: PG13 for language and angst Status: Closed/Incomplete Nicolas wished he had the stomach for wine at the moment, but his gut was a mess of churning acid. Elen should be in any minute, he kept reminding himself. If only he could eat, or drink, or think of anything other than the upcoming conversation. What would become of his life after this meeting? Atticus had not told Elen anything, but she needed to know. He had to confess, for his own sanity. Even if it ruined his reputation, his marriage, his life.
Nic looked a proper wreck, the day had turned his face into all hard lines and sharp angles, he looked years older, an almost skeleton of a man. His hair was slicked and neat, still in his turtleneck and slacks. He sat for a long spell, then suddenly found himself restless and stood, pacing the room before sitting again, trying to calm himself. Every sound put him on edge, he imagined every sound outside the door to be Elen returning, and each time his heart jumped to his throat, then sank leaving him feeling nauseous. He felt feverish and every muscle ached from how tense he was. She had to know. He had to tell her, had to confess. Oh he was so dreading this talk.