He was right. God it pained her to think it, and she was horrified to even think it out loud, but Freddie was right. It wasn't about the game for her, not any longer. Sure, at twelve years old, sitting across from other kids who loved it as much as she had, it had been the most glorious thing in the world. Even the few times she didn't come out on top, Florence got a rush just from the competition, from knowing which piece needed to go where, from strategizing and thinking. He was absolutely right. It had become the political struggle, the battle between the Communists and the USA and what the hell did she care about either side at the end of the day? She'd wanted Freddie. And when it became more about the money and the fame and the press with him, she'd pulled away. And Anatoly had sacrificed not just her, but his family. Oh, sure, she could understand pulling away from his wife if the marriage wasn't great, but the kids? They were the most innocent victims of all, really. But he'd put them on the line before he'd give up the damned game.
At the end of the day, it had cost her both of them. And her pride, her dignity, even potentially her own family. So yes, of course she was bitter. She was hurt and angry and didn't want to deal with any of it any longer. As if to shield herself, her arms crossed in front of her, though the bit of a smile still remained.
"Playing with a bunch of amateurs," she teased, following him across the street. "Have you lost a single game yet? You know, it's been a while. I might be able to take you now, you don't know." And she might not. There was no denying, Freddie was good. But then, so was she. And every once in a while, luck was on her side. Sure, he won nine out of every ten games with her, but there was always that one.
It was hard to keep smirking, though, when he opened the door of the most outrageous coffee shop Florence had ever seen. A bit shell-shocked, she walked through the door, not even bothering to give him grief for his almost chivalrous behaviour. "What ever happened to just...coffee and decaf?" she asked, her voice a little unsteady. It wasn't quite the shock that seeing that newspaper with the date blaring across the front, and it didn't compete with sitting in front of the computer for the first time, but it was definitely a bit to take in. "And pie. What the hell is a low fat banana chocolate loaf supposed to be?"