Brooklyn: Wren & Ryan
[Wren tried Luke a few times, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get him. He was working a lot lately, and more and more he was doing things where he couldn't be interrupted. And maybe she shouldn't go, shouldn't involve herself, but she waited and waited to see if someone else answered Ryan's post, and no one did.
She left her jewelry at home, even her wedding ring, because she didn't want Luke to see that it was in a weird place and worry. Her phone stayed behind too, and she figured she would be home before he even got his first shift break. Gus was at a sleepover, and she could drop Lia at the NYPD childcare, since that was open 24-hours. And she did just that.
She dressed calm and sedate in blue leggings and a long, thick cable-knit sweater in cream, and she got off the subway in Brooklyn and walked to the bar Ryan had indicated.
Wren didn't speak Spanish, and the place was crowded with people that she couldn't understand. She could catch a word here, a word there, because some of them mirrored French, but mostly she really had no idea. She took a seat at the bar, and she ordered a drink, and when the bartender leaned close over the wood, she smiled warmly and sweetly. She was looking for Marco, she told him, and he gave her a look, a chuckle, and motioned over a man who was too old to be sleeping with young girls.
But it was easy, nothing to slip back into old behavior, old things, and to get invited back to his place. Someone might still be there, he said, and they should get somewhere different. Non, she wanted to see where he lived, and whoever was there could just leave.
And, so, they went. His arm low on her waist, and her really, really hoping that Ryan was inside. Though, admittedly, Wren didn't understand why Ryan just couldn't walk out.]