InsaneJournal

Who: Wren, Luke, Adam and MK
Where: Caesars shopping center
When: recently
What: Two couples meet and things go really well ok
Warnings: yelling and there's usually some talk about uncomfortable stuff with these guys



Cartier, Michael Kors, Kate Spade and Tiffany & Co., and gone were the days when Wren could actually walk around the Forum Shops at Caesars and pick out whatever she wanted. These days, presents were layaway and Target and Walmart, but she'd seen a news story on the new FAO Schwarz expansion, and she wanted to go. It wouldn't cost that much to get Gus something tiny and stuffed, would it? And there was little that Gus liked more than stuffed animals to add to his very carefully appointed bedroom zoo. At the very least, it would be a nice break from weeks of being inside with the new baby. The Forum Shops were always beautiful, and their golden, twinkling lights were worth the traffic and the chaos to get to the place, especially without valet parking to help. So, she'd made arrangements for Gus and Lia with the sitter and, okay, so maybe she'd called five times already. It was the first time the baby had been left with this sitter, and she was worried, but she trusted the woman. She did; she just worried, and she couldn't help it.

It was early evening, and it was finally starting to cool down a little outside. It still didn't feel like Seattle or New York to Wren, because Las Vegas never did, even when it was freezing with dry, fluffy snow piled up on the ground. Too dry for the humidity that made winter feel like winter, it was always sweater weather and never anything more severe. But, still, it was nicer than it had been all year. And one step inside the Forum Shops chased away the bad things, because everything twinkled pretty and gold, and the ceiling was blue-lit sky, clouds spanning across the domed ceilings. She'd taken all of it for granted when she'd worked at Caesars, walking past it all without even noticing. But things were different now, and she tugged Luke to a stop in front of the display that housed a leftover train from Christmas, one with a long, long row of children waiting their turns.

Wren leaned against the railing, bare palms on the cool metal and the hem of the faded, designer dress she wore dancing around her knees. And maybe they didn't look like the rich shoppers, the ones with designer clothes and bags shopping bags with impressive names on them, but Wren didn't notice, not just then. Since MK had taken that jab at their financial status, she'd been perpetually aware of the fact that her shoes were worn at the toes and her dresses starting to fray at the hems. She needed to just throw away the vestiges of her designer life, and she would, really. She'd already gotten rid of the blonde, because she couldn't afford to do it right herself, not like she had once, and she was growing accustomed to the cinnamon of her youth again. Now, she just needed to get rid of the clothing. Once she took the baby weight off, she would, that's what she told herself. But it didn't matter then. She leaned against Luke's side, and she watched the children inch forward excitedly in the line for a few seconds longer, and then she became distracted by the things in the window of Tiffany & Co. She tugged on Luke's fingers, because looking in windows couldn't hurt anything, could it?

An excess of money wasn’t something Luke had possessed in a long, long time, and so there was really nothing for him to miss. Being rich was a distant memory, like being the heir to a corporation; it wasn’t reality. It never had been, even if he’d thought otherwise. But he knew it was different for Wren and sometimes, just sometimes, he wondered if she missed it. The suite at Caesars, the designer clothes, the freedom to buy whatever she liked whenever the inclination struck her. They weren’t poor, he would staunchly claim as much until he ran out of breath, but even he had to admit that more often than not they just managed to make ends meet. But this was his life, this was what he had, and he wouldn’t give it up for all the money in the world. He’d seen too many unhappy rich people to think that money would make life perfect anyway, and he was nothing if not resourceful; he always found a way. Like looking into the aid Max had mentioned, though he wasn’t sure how, or if, he could swing that without Wren finding out. But financial concerns weren’t on his mind on this particular outing; he was determined not to worry or fret. When Wren suggested checking out some new store’s expansion he agreed, half because he rarely told her no and half because he thought it might be good for them to get out, just the two of them, even though the thought of leaving Lia with a sitter terrified him. He laughed and teased Wren for her multiple phone calls, but in truth he was relieved that she seemed to worry just as much as he did. Checking in every fifteen minutes didn’t seem like overkill to him, not even a little.

He managed to work shifts that revolved well around the baby’s schedule, Bruce was being really, really patient with cutbacks on his time, and for once there was no feeling of some looming disaster on the horizon waiting to shake up their lives all over again. He didn’t think much of his appearance in comparison to the other shoppers, not that it would have mattered regardless. He watched the kids waiting for the train with a smile, their excitement reminding him of Gus, and he laughed when Wren tugged him in the direction of the jewelry store. While he’d buy her everything in sight if he could the simple truth was that he couldn’t, and even affording one piece, something small, would be a challenge. But he wasn’t going to tell her she couldn’t look, even if he did feel the slightest twinge of guilt at not being able to afford what he once had, so long ago, when he was too young for such things.

“I think it’s a rule that every woman loves Tiffany,” he teased, his fingers securely entwined with hers.

Last year, for MK the holidays were a haze of substances and supposed freedom and imaginary happiness. Painted on smiles and a pretend functional relationship underneath tinsel and mistletoe. December of last year was the last vestiges of happiness that she could remember. Even if it was unhealthy, destructive, and covered with a fog of booze and drugs, at least she felt happy. She was stupidly, irrevocably in love with Adam, much to both their detriments, and they were trying to make it work. Though the relationship was rocky at best, she still had Wren, too. (Ever since they both departed from Seattle, things weren’t the same. Not really.) Around Christmas last year, despite all the awful things MK had gone through before that, she had things to keep her alive and kicking.

What a difference a year made, right?

She and Wren weren’t speaking anymore, not after MK lost the baby and their ugly fight in the baby store months ago. MK missed her friend every day, every single day, even if she was insanely jealous of the life Wren and Luke had been gifted. Because that was it was. They were blessed with the life the universe had given them. Beautiful children (because MK assumed Wren had given birth by this point), an affectionate and dedicated relationship, a warm home with energy and life and love. MK had suffered through more than enough to deserve a life like that, so where was it? Where was her white picket fence and her man who didn’t resent her and children with bright eyes and flaming red hair?

Oh, right. That life died one night on a dirty Seattle street almost a decade ago.

And while Adam and MK were back together, they had a rocky year, too. Pain that a marriage proposal was supposed to assuage, but would never actually do the trick. Still, the both of them were both very good at pretending to be happy, or pretending to be functional, and an engagement could be the perfect sort of distraction. They could play around with plans for months upon months because either way, they were stuck with each other. So, they would fake love and joy and a real, healthy relationship as best they could. That was what found them at Caesars that day, the beginnings of the charade of a long, long engagement that would drag through years if necessary.

MK brought Adam there to Tiffany & Co. to look at some ideas for wedding bands, as the redhead had taken to full-on planning for their nuptials. Wedding magazines were piling up in both of their apartments, and she already had gone through pages and pages on the internet for some ideas and began to contact acquaintances to help her make the ceremony something she deserved. Finally.

When they strolled out of the store, her mind was brimming over with ideas. Red hair pulled back into a hair tie and lips just as bright as her hair, she was dressed like the rest of the shoppers milling around: designer dress that hit every curve, boots that clicked on the floor with every step, and a light sweater to keep her warm (and hide those fading scars). She didn’t, at first, notice the Henrys standing in front of the store, too wrapped up in rambling off to Adam about how one set of rings were only okay but another was gorgeous, but when she did, she did. MK came to a full stop and immediately grabbed Adam’s hand. The glint of her expensive engagement ring on her finger couldn’t be hidden.

“Oh,” was all she could say while she tugged Adam’s hand. “Hi.”

Adam’s life was finally falling into a rhythm he could be comfortable with. Now that he quit his job at the ER and had started doing private practice for some less than savory types around Las Vegas, he had the money, the time and the life he wanted. Gone were the days when he would excitedly explain comic books to MK or drag her to the game store to make a preorder. Now his life was filled with things a middle aged man needed to talk about. Mortgages, ring sizes, bills, news and what they were having for dinner. He was even getting good at feigning interest in things that shined instead of blasted color through panels on glossy paper.

He was dressed “casually” in slacks and a simple button up shirt with a light jacket. They looked like a young couple made out of money. Adam even felt a sense of pride showing off MK and hearing those whispers of is that who I think it is behind him. He liked status and money almost as much as he liked routine because it signified that whatever he was doing with his life, it was successful. Just having a good looking woman on his arm that was rambling about what kind of jewelry she liked best was an indicator of how well off he was compared to everyone else.

Everyone else, like the Henry family.

MK’s sudden grip made him look around with those cold blue eyes until he caught sight of Wren and Luke. They looked happy. Actually happy. And, that made the ice in his veins shatter. “Luke. Good to see you.” He said with that dead tone. “Wren.” Adam nodded his head and then curiously looked behind him, realizing they were heading into Tiffany’s. Then, with a voice that didn’t seem to have a pulse attached to it, said

“They don’t have any big sales today. Hope you were planning on only window shopping. Wouldn't want you to leave disappointed.”

‘Oh’ summed up Luke’s feelings pretty well. MK and Adam were the last people he’d expected to see while they were out and, if he was being honest, the last ones he wanted to see. Whatever friendships had existed between them were all but beyond salvaging now. Wren thought he was too good to hold a grudge but she was wrong; he remembered things. He didn’t forget. Outright ignoring them would have been possible, but it was tasteless, too, and he wasn’t going to run with his tail between his legs like some kind of coward. He had nothing to be ashamed of, and neither did she. “Hi,” he echoed, his grip on Wren’s hand tightening as he turned to face the two. He couldn’t have cared less what they were wearing but he did notice the engagement ring on MK’s finger, and that made his eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise.

Adam spoke before he had a chance to comment on it, though, and he lifted his gaze to meet those of the man who’d once been his friend. Once, they’d both been his friends, but now… now, he wasn’t so sure he knew who they were anymore. “Good to see you too, Adam.” He doubted Adam had meant the greeting any more than he did but he suspected that, even if they both tried, any sentiment they expressed would be forced. And those words stung, from both the intended insult and the fact that someone he’d called a friend could be so cruel. He knew, though, that money couldn’t buy happiness; he’d lived with the poster boy for that truth in Seattle, and he was looking at two examples of it now.

“Nice of you to worry,” he said, his smile as cool as his tone, “but you really don’t need to. We won’t be disappointed.” He nodded towards MK. “Congratulations, by the way.”

For a brief moment, Wren was genuinely happy to see MK. It showed on her features, which brightened with the kind of unreserved pleasure that she reserved for Luke and the children. She'd wanted to contact MK after the debaucle at the baby store, but she hadn't known how. The things MK had said that day still stung, a splinter still lodged beneath the skin, but she wanted to forget. She wanted things to go back to how they'd been in Seattle, before years and distance and hurt had made everything so bad that she couldn't figure out how to fix it. But yes, for a moment there was genuine happiness on her face.

Then Adam spoke, and that happiness faded. Wren noticed the ring, and she would have commented on it immediately if Adam hadn't made the comment about window shopping and sales. It reminded her of the baby store, of MK's jabs, and she self-consciously smoothed at the skirt of the faded dress she wore. It took effort to straighten her shoulders, to hold them back, and maybe Luke wasn't as affected by those things like she was, but he'd had a very different life, and she'd done so many things not to be poor. It brought to mind work, a job, something that made enough money not to have this happen again.

But then Luke was talking, and Wren couldn't even bring herself to pretend that Adam's words hadn't been hurtful. She looked away from the store and its glittering windows, and she unthinkingly took a few steps away, putting distance there. "He really proposed?" she asked unthinkingly, her attention turning to MK and the words sounding so very surprised. She pressed her thumb to her own small engagement and wedding rings, twirling them as she stood there, trying to figure out why neither of them looked happy. This was what MK had always wanted, wasn't it?

MK squeezed Adam’s fingers when he commented on the Henrys financial status and her eyes flicked briefly to his face before looking back at the other couple. A quiet and embarrassed chiding over what he said. Sure, MK spat something just as awful to Wren in that baby store months ago, but that was in the middle of a heated argument, wasn’t it? This was just standing around in the middle of the Forum. And, there were days that she felt unmitigated guilt over her destroyed friendship with Wren, a stabbing regret that drove her to hit the bottle hard. It was always coming to this though, she reminded herself every single time (even if she didn’t quite believe that). Wren thought she was smarter than she was, thought she knew better than she did, and it was, in MK’s mind, Wren’s fault that all of this had happened. If the blonde hadn’t rubbed her happy life in her face, if she hadn’t tried to force MK into things, maybe, just maybe they would be okay.

As it were, they weren’t. It was clear in the tension you could cut with a knife as the newly engaged couple stared at the new parents. MK’s fingers twitched in Adam’s, and a smile faltered across her face. “He did,” she said, trying to sound proud and mostly succeeding. If the redhead was good at one thing, it was sounding proud in the face of absolute heartbreak. She felt strange as they stood across a couple that at one point could have mirrored them, but they were allowed to be happy, weren’t they? MK and Adam would never, ever, ever be as privileged as they were in that respect, unless a miracle happened. The faltering smile solidified into something pretty and on the surface genuinely elated to spend the rest of her life as a Waterhouse. An expression seen time and time and time again on the covers of magazines with a drink in her hand and a crowd of people pressing against her.

Her hand fiddled in Adam’s again. “You had the baby,” MK stated obviously, fighting the urge to ask about him or her. She couldn’t care anymore.

Adam didn’t seem to realize he said anything wrong, a vacant look afforded to the happy couple. He held MK’s hand up to flash the ring, turning it from side to side as it glittered in the mall’s artificial light and gave a slow smile to Luke. Truth be told, Adam didn’t know how much Wren had told Luke. He didn’t know if Luke really did despise him and thought it was a lot more funny to just pretend like everything was fine. Adam was getting really good at it. MK’s scars were just tattoos on her skin now. Decorations for the world to gawk over. That clinic where he had left his happiness? He drove far out of the way to avoid it so that he could keep pretending that it never existed.

“Another one.” Adam said about the baby. His tone still flat even if his smile mirrored MK’s. They looked like they had practiced the appearance of happiness plenty of times. They looked like dolls. “If you ever need help with your new family, let us know. I think MK has already offered our dead unborn child’s crib and clothes to you, but I know we still have some stashed away somewhere.” That smile never faded.

Luke hated that Adam’s word had an effect, hated that Wren had put distance between herself and the store like she didn’t have any right to even be close to it. He hated him, hated MK, and it was bitter familiarity, the hatred. He didn’t like it but it just kept coming back, even when he thought he’d let go of all that. Still, he knew better than to let it show, and he maintained that false smile as MK confirmed that yes, Adam really did propose. Neither of them showed the sort of happiness that most newly engaged couples would have but, then again, they weren’t most newly engaged couples. They were too consumed with blaming their problems on everyone else to do anything else. He nodded in false appreciation as Adam showcased the ring but it didn’t matter how sparkly or flashy it was. It didn’t matter how much money had been spent on it. Marriage wasn’t about how big the diamond was, and he wasn’t so sure either of them understood that.

Whatever lingering desire he might have had for Adam’s friendship vanished when he offered them their dead unborn child’s items. Losing a child was horrible, unimaginable, and no one deserved that, but to say it like it was his and Wren’s fault was just going too far. But of course; why wouldn’t the blame for MK losing the baby be cast on them too? “That’s okay, Adam,” he said coolly. He moved closer to Wren, a subtle little thing, and let go of her hand only to slide an arm around her waist. “We don’t need help from the two of you. We’re doing just fine on our own. Aren’t we, baby?”

Wren felt guilty. It only took one little sentence: You had the baby, and she felt all that old guilt that MK always managed to dredge up in her. She was out of practice, no longer in the habit of apologizing for every little thing, but it was habit, and she shook her head, a muttered, "I'm sorry," escaping her lips before she even realized it was there. And she would have hidden the entire pregnancy from MK if she could have. If they hadn't run into each other in that store, she would have never said a thing. As it was, it was too late for that, and now there was the guilt of a baby on top of the guilt of making their already non-existent budget stretch further than it already did. "I'm sorry." And she was. She was sorry for everything.

And then Adam spoke, and all that guilt was covered over with anger. It was easy to get mad at Adam. He made it so very easy, and she barely felt when Luke tugged her against his side. She knew he'd asked her something, she did, but she was too caught up in looking to see what MK's reaction was to Adam's cruel words. Her nod was unthinking, agreeing with whatever Luke had asked, the upturn at the end of his sentence the only real understanding that it had been a question at all. "How can you say that?" she demanded, her gaze going back to Adam, her voice taking on an insistent cadence that barely ever surfaced. "Do you say cruel things just to be cruel? How do you think she feels hearing that?" she asked, her gaze moving to MK once more, then back again. "You hate us. You want to make us feel guilty and responsible and terrible. You want to tear us down. Okay, fine, okay. But don't be cruel to her." Defending MK, that was also an old habit, but Adam never failed to make her think that MK needed defending, not ever.

Something flickered across MK’s face when Adam flashed her ring around, knowing completely that Luke’s smile was false. She knew, she would know miles away, because that was the world she lived in. Fake smiles and false friendships and hatred. She remembered Luke’s warm eyes from Seattle, and there was nothing but icy loathing in them now as he stood away. It had her wanting to cower, to tug Adam away, to find a bottle and bury her problems away. That burn would make her forget the apologetic look in Wren’s eyes, right? It had to because the familiarity of it all formed a knot in her throat. She swallowed hard to get rid of it, but it was still there. Still tight, and it made it hard to breathe. There was a surreptitious shake of her head when Wren apologized, almost like she had a sudden chill. Her smile was gone, replaced by an awkward twist of her lip. She almost told Wren it wasn’t her fault, but Adam cut it off any train of thought.

There was a noise, something unconscious and slipped out, and the redhead dug her fingers into Adam’s hand. They never talked about the baby they (she) lost anymore, and it stung something fucking fierce that he brought it up in front of them. “Don’t--” she choked out, gaze slipping to the corner of her eye to see Adam’s painted smile still there. There was the bitterness in her mouth, remembering how he initially blamed her for it all happening. How could he use it as a weapon against them? “I don’t,” she tried again, strained before clearing her throat again to squeeze her eyes briefly before the dull greens -- once so very bright -- flew open. “Stop,” she finally mustered in a stronger voice, stepping closer to Adam to try to replicate how loving and protectively Luke held onto Wren. “Don’t act like you’re caring now. I don’t need you defending me now. I never did. He’s the one who’s been there for all this.” Faux-vehemence bubbling up to a real anger again. MK was heartbroken all of a sudden, remembering the baby she would never have, and she found herself wishing she cut a little higher all those months ago.

It did feel good. Watching how easy it was to make blood boil by simply stating facts. That smile didn’t leave his face and it only got bigger the angrier it made Wren. He had played her for sympathy before, but right now he didn’t want that. The dark things that followed Faust around wanted strife and Adam could give it to them. “Doesn’t care. Only wants to act the saint. Typical.” Adam said and squeezed MK’s hand so she wouldn’t let go. They were in this together.

He looked up at the lights and wondered if people really had shouting matches in the mall. Weren’t those reserved for darken bars after plenty of drinks? To be fair, Adam already had a couple in him and it was impossible to tell what MK was on these days. He turned to look at her and saw skin hanging on skeleton. Was there anything left in there, or were her insides carved out like the Egyptians? “Grieving, too. Wanted that child. Yes, eventually did want it.” He looked back at the Henry parents with blue eyes that told them nothing. “Grieving in my own way. MK knows. Neither of you asked. Don’t know anything about us anymore.”

Wren didn’t owe MK any apologies, and Luke had to bite his tongue to keep from saying as much. It wouldn’t do any good; she would still feel guilty, and the last thing they needed was to have a shouting match in the middle of a crowded mall. In fact, walking away was starting to seem like a really good idea. There was nothing left to salvage here. He wished it was different, like it had been back in Seattle, but it wasn’t, and they’d both spent enough time trying to fix things without success. And when Wren turned her anger on Adam, he’d all but decided that they needed to just be the bigger people and walk away. He tugged on her waist, just a little, a subtle signal, but MK’s response stopped him cold. For too long he’d watched as Wren blamed herself for every little thing, and how dare MK imply that she didn’t care? They could say what they liked about him; he didn’t care. He’d developed a thick enough skin. But not Wren. They had no right to say a damn thing about her.

“Are you kidding me, MK? Can you even hear yourself right now? Wren has always cared about you,” he snapped, his patience limit reached. “She’s always been there for you. Even when you pushed her away, even when you made her feel like shit, she’s still been there. You just don’t want to admit that, because if you do, you won’t be able to blame her for everything wrong in your life anymore.” But most of his anger was spared for Adam, whom he turned to with a glare when he spoke, and he stepped forward without thinking, putting Wren behind him. “Shut up, Adam. Just shut up. Don’t you ever talk to her like that. Wren’s never acted like a saint, and you know it.” He was so, so tired of him. He was so tired of both of them. “I know you wanted that child, you told me. I’ve tried to be there for you. I have. But you’ve just pushed us away, over and over, so don’t stand there and say we didn’t ask. Don’t stand there and say we don’t know anything,” he said, and while his voice rose a couple notches, he wasn’t yelling. Not yet. “You two need to realize that trying to make everyone around you miserable won’t make you happy. It just won’t.”

MK's words made Wren go completely quiet and completely still. She barely heard whatever Adam said, not until that very last sentence, and she opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. She didn't understand how they took what was real and twisted it all around. She didn't understand how MK could stand there and defend a man who had made her fall back down, when she'd worked so hard to get herself back up. And she didn't understand how Adam could stand there at all. She'd never liked Adam much, and she hadn't liked how he put Luke in danger without even blinking. But it hadn't always been like this, and she just didn't understand. And she didn't believe Adam about wanting the baby, not when she'd listened to MK cry over and over again before the miscarriage. He'd left her alone, told her he didn't want anything to do with her, and now he was trying to take it all back? She was incredulity, and it was only Luke's voice that broke the cycle of her trying (and failing) to make sense of it all.

This time, it was Wren's turn to tug on Luke. She pulled at his wrist, because this wasn't going to do any good. If she hadn't known that before, she knew it now. She'd harbored some hope that it was only her, that MK and Adam weren't like this with Luke. Because she could see, reason, she could make sense of her own inadequacies as a friend. She'd never been one before MK, and she wasn't very good at it. But that wasn't the case with Luke, and if they even had issues with him, then there wasn't anything to say. She tugged again, and she looked at MK when she spoke. There was no point in even pretending Adam was there, not anymore. "I always cared. You know that, though." Because somewhere, somewhere MK knew; she knew it. They'd mended fences when MK was pregnant and sober, and MK knew. She had to know. But none of that realization made her feel less guilty, less poor, less less. She tugged on Luke's wrist again.

MK wanted to chew on uppers until she couldn’t remember her own name, but there wasn’t anything saving her from this confrontation. From the ire of her former best friend and her husband, both so beautiful and happy and fulfilled. Why didn’t she get that? In the mirror later, after all of this was settled and after she was more than a few drinks in, she would practice the way she remembered that they smiled at each other in happiness, the loving looks they gave each other, the protection bleeding from their pores. She should be able to pretend to feel like that, right? It was a role she had to play, and fucking hell would she do it at some point in her life. Even if she couldn’t actually get it, even if the real thing would never exist for her, she could fake being happy.

Not at the moment though, faced with such hatred from the people she used to treasure more than anyone in the entire world. The lump in her throat appeared again, but then as Luke spoke, it turned into a fiery burning that she couldn’t ignore. Something in her clicked out of place, and all of a sudden, she saw red. “Oh, really?” she snapped. “I’m the one who pushed her away? She wasn’t always there for me! What about when he died, Luke?! What about when she disappeared for years and fucking years because she couldn’t handle it? Get the fuck out of here!” Her voice raised more and more. If MK was great at one thing, it was causing a scene where scenes shouldn’t be caused. She stepped forward and poked Luke’s chest once, fingers twisting in Adam’s so hard it could hurt. “You were fucking angry, too! REMEMBER THAT? YOU HATED HER! SHE LEFT US! Don’t start that bullshit, that bullshit about her being there for everyone all the time. No. Fuck no.” Her voice choked out towards the end, strained and green eyes glassy. And maybe deep down she knew that Wren cared, but it didn’t feel like that at the moment. How could you care if you always managed to make someone feel like shit? Of course, MK didn’t see the irony in thinking that of them. MK and Adam were astonishingly selfish sometimes, even if they could do mental gymnastics to justify it.

Wren was so busy tugging on Luke, trying to get him to move, to go, that she didn't immediately notice when MK snapped. She heard it, but it wasn't anything at first, only something to get away from before this entire thing got worse. But when MK followed up that oh, really? with more words, Wren stopped. She stopped tugging, and her hand fell away from Luke's wrist. She still carried so much guilt about leaving, about that choice from five years ago. She began to talk, to explain that she hadn't left because she couldn't handle it. It hadn't been that. It hadn't. The doctor had said, and she didn't want to ruin Luke's future, and things had been so bad, so tense, and--

She started to say those things, to defend herself for the thousandth time, even though part of her knew there was no defense. There would never, ever be a defense. She started, but MK kept screaming, and Wren's fingers rucked in the fabric of her worn and faded dress at the hip. She moved back when MK moved forward, an instinctive retreat that she didn't even realize until she saw MK's finger connect with Luke's chest. She gasped, and she opened her mouth again.

And then MK said that Luke had hated her.

Wren knew Luke and MK had kept in touch during those years, knew they'd become close. She didn't doubt it. Not for one second. She didn't doubt that MK was telling the truth. Why would she? And Luke had said so many times that he'd never hated her, but she'd known. Somewhere, deep down, she'd known. She looked at them, from one to the other. She didn't look at Adam. She didn't want to see whatever was on his face. YOU HATED HER, and it was an echo. She took a step back, another, another, vision blinded by tears that had started to fall without her consent. She turn, and she ran, quickly lost in the busy crowd.

Luke didn’t flinch when MK’s voice raised, drawing unwanted attention from those around them. Even when she stepped forward and her fingers poked his chest, he stood his ground, his anger growing by the second. “She didn’t leave because she couldn’t handle it, MK, it wasn’t like that,” he began, his own volume rising, but then MK said that he’d hated her and no, no, that was wrong. He’d been angry, yes, so very angry, but he hadn’t hated her. He turned to see Wren’s reaction, and his heart fell as she looked between the two of them; he saw her expression, and he knew. She believed her. “I was angry, but I didn’t hate her. I didn’t, Wren,” he said, a last-ditch effort to fix it, but she was stepping back and back and then she was gone, lost in the crowd. He stared after her, anguished, but then it hardened as he turned back to MK and Adam, a glare and nothing but anger as he looked at them.

“She didn’t leave to hurt either of us, and you know it. She’s sorry. She’s been fucking sorry for five years, and she never stopped caring. But you know what?” He shook his head. “You don’t deserve her, MK. All we’ve ever wanted is for you two to be happy and you just keep on guilting us and making us feel like shit. Get some fucking professional help, okay?” With that he turned and strode into the crowd, without a backward glance, to find Wren.

Adam didn’t move through the outbursts, the smile draining from his face. Not because he was upset or he found any kind of truth in what either parties had to say. No, it was gone because he felt as though he won, that MK had won it for them, and there wasn’t anything more to do than to imagine the turmoil a word like hate could sew. Luke would insist all night until their baby started crying that he never hated Wren. And, Wren wouldn’t listen, would she? Adam saw that shock as she dug up a weapon she knew was always buried deep in their marriage garden.

It felt good. Better than any high he had in weeks.

His hand reached to tug MK back. He held her close, an awkward attempt at comfort when he knew she was still weak from the attack. Adam understood that his own venom wouldn’t have been enough to rip the Henry’s apart. He needed the redhead to cut deeper than he ever could alone. “Don’t listen to them.” Adam said solemnly. “Running from the past. Not like us. We’ve accepted it.”