Diamond Rings and Old Barstools

@genevieve | Outfit

This was... Well he supposed you could say this was a long time coming. Carlisle thought that this was something that they should have done a long time ago, but when he had gone to the Ministry and he had started looking for Olivia, he knew that he had made his choice. He wasn't all that good at impulse decisions, but this wasn't an impulse decision. This was something that they both needed if they were ever going to have a chance to be happy. She didn't deserve to be trapped in this house by herself all the time now that the kids were at school with him. And she deserved someone that could care about her the way that she wanted to be cared about. The way that... Well... That was beside the point. He knew that there was a good chance that she wasn't going to see this with the same eyes that he was looking at it with, but he thought that this was better. They weren't happy, and really he didn't think that they had ever been happy, but they deserved to be. They both deserved to be, and he thought that this gave her a better shot at that. He wanted her to be okay, he didn't want to leave her with nothing, and so he thought that this was the best that they could do. He had it all figured out, and he thought that giving her everything that he wanted to give her would help, even if it wasn't going to be enough to make her not mad... Or sad... Or whatever emotion that it was that the settled on in the end of this. 

It was more than just the two of them though. It was the two of them, and their three kids, and they were happy. Or they were going to get there. He knew that Edmund had been talking about getting a flat of his own, and that was something that he thought could be encouraged now. Something that wasn't all that bad... He knew that giving her Westerlies was a simple fix. He was going to have to move back to the Estate soon enough anyway, his father was sick, and he spent a good majority of his time at the school in any case. It wasn't like he was ever here... And her entire life was here, this was her home more than it had ever been his, and so she could keep it. He would continue to support her, make sure that she didn't have to worry about anything, she was free to do whatever it was that she wanted. Whatever she wanted... All he wanted was for her to let him go without much of a fight. And he knew that that was a long shot. He thought that he was in for a hell of a fight with all of this, but at least he thought that they would be taken care of. At least the kids weren't here to hear any of it, because Edmund would be at work, and the other two were in Scotland where he had left them at the end of their lessons. 

Letting himself inside he looked around once... Nothing had changed in the week and a half that they had been back in Scotland, even if she was here practically by herself. He headed in the direction of the library, because that was where he thought that he would find her, and if not there then he would check the conservatory, and their bedroom. Really he would have taken finding her anywhere that wasn't the kitchen. Because access to knives was probably the last thing that they needed when he knew that there was going to be an argument of some sort that came from this. She wasn't going to take this gently, there was no way to nicely ask someone for a divorce, and he knew that she hadn't wanted to marry him in the first place, but a lot had changed in the last twenty years, and he thought that there was a good chance that a divorce was the last thing that she was going to be amicable about. At least at first. He thought that in the future things would be okay again. That maybe eventually she would find someone that could thrill her by doing more than kissing her forehead. He thought that she would find someone that really made her happy, and then she would understand this. She would realize that him asking for this now, was what was in everyone's best interests... "Genevieve?" His voice rang through the house when he didn't find her in the library, an attempt to save himself from looking in anymore wrong rooms... 

outfit

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With Maddie up in Scotland, the house felt too big and too cold. Westerlies had been Genevieve's home since she was barely more than a teenager, she had lived in the place for close to two decades but it had never felt so...u friendly. It was her home, she knew every single room and corner of it but, for as long as she could remember, she'd had her children and her husband to liven it up. The corridors held memories of chasing the boys, each piece of furniture brought back a memory - either amusing or slightly terrifying. And yet, as she walked around the grand estate, she felt nothing. Edmund was so busy that he barely lived there anymore. In fact, Gen was sure he would be moving out soon, her firstborn no longer a boy who needed to be with his parents all the time. They no longer needed her. It was the stark truth of it. Her children were grown and their mother was no longer the central figure in their lives. It hurt. Genevieve had nothing else in life. She was a mother whose children didn't need her. And a wife whose husband didn't come home.

The thing was, Genevieve had no delusions about what, exactly, kept her husband away. Oh, of course he had the school. It wasn't like he was there to fill an empty spot, she knew Carlisle had actually found a taste for teaching. But there was no reason why he couldn't come to her from time to time, no reason for her bed to be cold and empty. Well, there was. Theirs was an arranged marriage and Genevieve wasn't placed in Slytherin for the heck of it. She had earned her place in the house of the cunning and only a blind person wouldn't realise that their marriage wasn't just between the two of them. Gen didn't know their names, had never even felt curious about it. But she knew. And, for a while - a long while -, it had been fine. She'd had her husband, even if she hadn't been the only one. But now...now she didn't. Distant, chaste kisses and seeing him once a month - if that. It was all that she had left and...it wasn't enough. She loved him but she also loved herself. Once upon a time, it had seemed like their marriage would take another turn, one for the best. Whatever stupid delusions Genevieve had had, the last few months squashed it rather thoroughly. She couldn't talk to Pansy or Theo or Blaise. Draco was completely out of question. Marcus had as much relationship knowledge as a bloody brick so he was also out. And Harrison's solution for it would be likely violence which...no.

Genevieve only noticed that she had been staring at the same page of her book since sitting down to read when Carlisle's voice sounded down the corridor. The witch frowned. It wasn't weekend and Maddie was at school. What could he possibly be doing home? Bitterly, Gen realised that not even once it had gone through her mind that her husband was home to see her. It just wasn't something she believed, something that she thought possible in the current circumstances. "In here," she called out from their bedroom, closing her book and placing it on the coverlet of their bed. Gen looked around with a critical eye. The room was spotless and other than her glass of wine on the bedside table, nothing was out of place. Good. Smoothing her dress, she tried not to let her inner turmoil show. Maybe this was her chance. She had been thinking of another child, a babe she could love and care and maybe no longer feel so useless. If Genevieve suggested it, she was sure Carlisle wouldn't have a reason to deny her. He loved children, after all. "You're home," the witch said as her husband appeared on the doorway, surprise colouring her tone.

He knew that this wasn't going to be a fun conversation, he knew that telling her that he was through was something that he wasn't looking forwards to at all. In a lot of ways Carlisle wished that he could have gotten out of this part completely, but he was going to try and do the best that he could. He didn't handle other people's emotions all that well, because generally he didn't care about them. He wasn't empathetic, he wasn't nurturing, or soft, or any of that. He was the kind of man that took what he wanted, used what he wanted, and then moved on. Knowing that he was going to be breaking his wife's heart essentially, he thought that this was going to make for a rather long afternoon. He thought that he would have to find an easy way to relieve some of the tension that this situation caused him before he went to find out how Sloane felt today. He knew that she was sick, and that Andromeda was trying like hell to keep it under control. But that potion that she had given her was something else. He had to think that Rodolphus was lucky that neither Andromeda, nor Blair had taken it last spring, because Salazar help him if it had been more than one witch that he had had to try and take care of like this. He thought that dealing with Sloane alone was bad enough, let alone having two of them in this state.

Carlisle knew that going to find Beckett's wife this morning instead of using his prep period to get ready for the day meant that he had made his decision. He had made his choice the moment that he had realized that he was looking for the only lawyer that he knew personally. He thought that Olivia would have surely gone to tell Beckett by now, and that come tomorrow his friend would be owling him, or showing up in person, to ask him what the hell he was doing... Divorces weren't something that they took lightly in this world. Pureblood divorces even less so, and Carlisle knew that he was poised to take his father's position in the Wizengamot a lot sooner than most people thought. He was going to be the Lord Rosier before Christmas arrived, that he was sure of, and if anything, he thought that they were going to have to make sure that whatever happened here with Genevieve happened quickly, and as quietly as possible. He was willing to give her quite a bit. If she wanted one of the other homes that they owned, she could have it. If she wanted money, he would give her more than enough to live comfortably. He wasn't going to turn her out with nothing. He still wanted to make sure that she was taken care of. She wasn't nothing. She was the mother of his children. He wanted her taken care of, and comfortable. He wanted her to be happy. And he knew that he wasn't going to make her happy.

If anything he thought that they made each other miserable most of the time, and she didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of this, and so he knew that he was going to get the bad end of this deal. And that he was going to look like the asshole for leaving her, and then everyone finding out exactly why he had chosen to leave her. It wasn't like anyone really believed that he was faithful to her, but he thought that she deserved someone a whole lot better for her than he was. That was something that he thought that she could end up realizing eventually. He knew that it wasn't going to be immediate, and he thought that he would probably be the one that was hated for the rest of her life, but so long as she was taken care of, and so long as they could tolerate each other long enough to get James and Maddie through the rest of their schooling, then he thought that they would be fine. In the end, they were going to be fine. And what happened between he and Sloane, well, that was no body else's business to begin with. He couldn't help but roll his eyes when her voice sounded from the bedroom, but he headed that direction in any case. "I am, for the moment anyway. I came to talk to you." His voice didn't sound serious, serious, but he wasn't smiling about this either. He knew that it was delicate, and he knew that he was just preparing for an explosion at this point, but he also knew that he had made up his mind.

Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all, that was the first thing that came to her mind when she saw him appearing at the door and heard his words. They didn't talk, it just wasn't something that they did. Even when Carlisle was home for some reason or another, there was normally silence other than the occasional question about their children. In fact, Gen wasn't sure they even had a single shared interest, something that could them talking for hours on end. Not like she knew Harrison and Charlotte did, for example. It had bothered her for a long, long time before she made her peace with it decided that it was how things were going to be. The only thing they had in common was their children and it had to be enough. Marriages had been built on less, after all, and it wasn't like they loathed one another like some couples she knew did.

Maybe a child would be the answer to their problems, now. Gen never thought she'd like being a mother that much, when she first married, but she had been wrong. It filled a void that she hadn't even know that existed in her heart and, Carlisle aside, she longed to be a mother again. Maddie wasn't solely hers anymore, taken as she had been to go to school. Edmund was a man already and James was well on his way to be one as well. This conversation he wanted could be the opportunity she needed to make the offer, to convince him of her point of view. Even if the subject was less than pleasant, surely Genevieve could turn it around. After all, nothing actually happened lately for that to be about something urgent or disastrous. Although she was a little cut off from things, Pansy could always be relied upon to keep her informed of major happenings in the Ministry and outside of it. Other than the Minister's private family drama, nothing of worth had happened lately.

Or so she thought. Carlisle wasn't a man to waste his time and if he wanted to talk, then there must have been a reason and an important one. How she, of all people was involved, was a mystery. But Genevieve supposed she'd find out soon enough. Whilst his handsome face didn't exactly inspire confidence that this would be a nice talk, he also didn't look grave or stern, something that put her somewhat at ease. Or, at the very least, not on the edge. "That's a surprise," she commented mildly, wishing he would sit down or something. Looming over the doorway whilst she was sitting on the bed gave the entire thing an unsettling distant that Gen found she didn't care much for. "What is it? Did something happen to the children?" Maybe Maddie was having problems adapting at school. Even with Carlisle and James around, her little girl had until very recently spent most of her time with Genevieve. If it was being hard on her, a grown woman, she couldn't imagine what her daughter was going through.

Figuring out how to tell Genevieve that he was done with this was something that he had been thinking about for a while now, and he wasn’t going to admit to anyone that it had been Rodolphus Lestrange that had finally told him how. His cousin didn’t have to choose. He didn’t have to make a decision. Because somehow, he had gotten lucky, and Andromeda and Blair had just, gotten along. They had been happy, the three of them, in one relationship. He knew that he wasn’t going to be that lucky though. He knew that Genevieve would never have accepted Sloane, and that Sloane wasn’t going to want to share with his wife. Especially not now. Carlisle was nearly convinced that this was going to hurt her, but he also didn’t know how she hadn’t seen it coming all of these years. They didn’t have anything in common. They had gotten along well enough to raise their children. They had done right by them, but he thought that she had always wanted more than that. And he didn’t know how to give it to her. He didn’t know how to be that guy. The guy that she wanted that was going to listen to her prattle on about whatever had happened to her that day, and what flowers were in bloom, or what the latest ideas for whatever she was interested in now were. He didn’t care, and he knew that she knew that he didn’t care. It wasn’t that hard. Not really. Pretending to care. He just had no desire to, and she hadn’t either. So, he was going to take his cousin’s advice. He was going to go with the choice. One was an obligation, one was a choice. He would take the choice.

Going to talk to Olivia had made it final. He knew that she wouldn’t say anything to anyone but Beckett, and that was the point. He wanted to keep it a secret until he could get to Genevieve first, and he knew that he had had to go back to the school, that there was no getting home until tonight, and now things were different. Now he thought that she was going to be able to tell that something was just the slightest bit off. Or more off than normal. Because they didn’t talk. That wasn’t something that they did. He didn’t have anything to talk to her about normally. It was all for not. He thought that they needed to talk about this though. They needed to talk about the fact that he was done with this. He was done with trying to pretend that they were both getting something out of this, when they weren’t. She deserved better than that, and he thought that she knew it. She was smart. She was a Burke. It wasn’t like she was going to fall from society not married to him… She wouldn’t. She was still going to be a Burke. She would have the same status as a Burke that she did as a Rosier. His own was going to change. He was going to be the Lord Rosier sooner rather than later, but he wasn’t going to tell his wife that either. He didn’t think that she was going to give in so easily if she knew that. She would have put up a fight. And he didn’t want to deal with a fight. Because he would win. And putting the kids through a fight like that would have been hell.

That wasn’t fair to them. And while Carlisle didn’t often give a damn about other people, there were some that he did. And his kids topped that list. They were the people that mattered most. All three of them. And he thought that this was going to be hardest on Maddie, for sure. But they would get her through it. She wasn’t going to really have to deal with it until Christmas break, and then she was only here for a few weeks. They would figure out splitting the time equally across the board. But it was Edmund that he thought was going to have to worry about the most. He didn’t think that his son was really going to mind, he was old enough to see why this was best. But he was the one that was going to have to contend with Sloane first. He thought that they could manage to handle some sort of introduction over Christmas, but that was a long way off, and they had a lot of steps to go to get there first. James and Maddie were still at school, and Edmund was at the hospital, and they were going to do this. He was going to tell her. Shaking his head gently he leaned against the doorframe. “No, James and Maddie are fine. She’s making friends. I think she rather likes saying her dad is the Dark Arts professor. It makes the other kids sort of bow to her. It’s cute.”

For whatever reason, Carlisle was still not entering the room and it raised Genevieve's faint surprise to a controlled sort of alarm. She was careful not to let that show on her face, to make sure her expression was still faintly pleasing and neutral but something inside her went cold and her mind started to work. What could have possibly happened now? Nothing urgent, since he wasn't in a hurry but not something she'd like either because he was keeping out range of her nails and within reach of the only exit of the room. Her wand was on the bedside table and, if he were contemplating the possibility of her using it, he'd have plenty of time to leave before she could reach for it. Gen realised that her thoughts had taken a rather hysterical edge but she couldn't help it. At least by preparing herself to a worst case scenario, she wouldn't be caught unawares when it ended up being something far more mild. What reason could be for it, she did not know and did not like the options her mind supplied her with.

It could not be a lover. Those her husband had in spades and Gen would be surprised if he even remembered their names after he was done with them. Furthermore, he could not hope for her to be too naive or too stupid not to know, which discarded the possibility. She hardly doubt Carlisle would be bold enough to bring a mistress to their home, mostly because he could not have failed to notice that her family had owned a shop that dealt with magical artefacts of Dark nature and that she was bound to have picked up something other than household spells whilst being a Burke. She'd murder whatever wench he brought to Westerlies and wouldn't even pretend to be sorry about it. No, it wasn't that. Too scandalous and with a certain outcome. What could it be? Not related to the children, because that was the one topic he was never distant with her, the one thing the two of them could talk properly about and make decisions. Besides, he wouldn't have been calm in that case. Not liking the feeling of disquiet, Gen picked up her wine glass and took a sip, trying and succeeding on keeping her hand from shaking. Instead of placing it back, she kept careful hold of the crystal glass and refrained from snapping at Carlisle to just take a bloody seat, for heaven's sake. If he wanted to vex her, it was working.

None of that showed on her face or voice as she smiled at the words. It did sound like their little girl, yes. It warmed Genevieve a bit, to know that Maddie was adapting. Whilst a rather vicious part of her had hoped her daughter would be inconsolable at being parted from her mother, she knew rationally that it was for the best if Maddie was happy at school, if she made friends. She was safe there, Gen didn't have a doubt about it, but happiness was important as well. "I can imagine she would. She likes power, our daughter. Rather fitting, for the blood in her veins," another sit of her wine, casual and careless, if painfully so. "I suppose the shadow of having an authority figure such as you wrapped around her little finger did wonders for her popularity. It was the same for Draco, back in the day," with the marked difference that Lucius Malfoy had never been right there, which limited the blonde's antics a bit - even if he did his damned best to act like it didn't. Carlisle was still standing. Still outside the room. Her grip on the wine glass tightened. "Is there a reason why you won't take a seat, husband?"

Hurting Genevieve wasn't something that he wanted to do. He had never been faithful to her, and while he knew that she knew that, he had done his best to keep it away from her as much as possible. She didn't have to see it. This there would be no escaping. Divorce was going to bring everything right out into the open. And it happened. It wasn't something that absolutely never happened in their society, but it wasn't something that was all that common either. People that did it did it for reasons that they weren't going to make public. Reasons that no one was going to really have to think that hard to figure out though. He thought that this one wasn't going to be hidden for too long. He thought that they were going to have to try and make sure that they were going to stay out of the public eye as much as possible. It wasn't fair to Genevieve to put her through this, and then parade around all happy in front of her. That was just cruel.

Being cruel wasn't something that he was striving for. He wanted this to go as smoothly as possible, and he knew that that might not be the way that this was going to go. This was going to be hard, and it was going to be messy, and he knew that. He had come into tonight, knowing that there was no one else in Westerlies on purpose. Edmund didn't need to be home for this. James and Maddie were safely tucked away in the Slytherin Dormitories. And now it was time to talk to his wife. He had been to see Olivia already. He had started the paperwork, he had had it drawn up. He would make sure that she was taken care of, he would make sure that she was going to have anything and everything that she could need. And he was going to do so as quickly, and as quietly as possible. He knew that it wasn't' going to be that simple. He knew that she wouldn't just sign them, and they could move on. That wasn't the way that the world worked, but this would start the ball rolling.

That was all that he could do tonight. He could start the ball rolling, and then they would see where they were going to go from there. Carlisle thought that there was a pretty clear path to where they were headed, and it was something involving lawyers. Which meant that he was actually going to have to find one that wasn't Olivia Graves. Because he didn't think that asking for favors from your friends' wives extended quite that far. Having her get the papers drawn up for him wasn't all that difficult. She had a staff of lawyers at her disposal, and that had come quickly, but he thought that using Ministry resources to expedite his divorce was probably some abuse of power or something, and he didn't need to have any extra eyes on him right now. He was divorcing his wife and choosing his pregnant mistress. His father was dying in secret, and he was going to have to be the Lord Rosier a lot sooner than anyone had thought that he was going to have to. They could have done something, they could have called in healers, but his father wouldn't hear of it.

And so, they were here. And he was facing an impossible situation. There were no good answers here. No matter what he chose, someone was going to get hurt, and so he was choosing the thing that hurt one person instead of two. He was choosing to end vows he wasn't faithful to, and he was choosing something for himself. He was setting Genevieve free. He was going to make sure that they were all okay. Carlisle smirked at the thought of their daughter liking power, there wasn't a doubt in his mind where she had gotten that from, and it was staring him right in the eye. "Yes, actually." He nodded as he stepped forward, "I'm not staying." He knew that that wouldn't really be a surprise, but he also knew that it was different all together this time. "In fact, I just came to talk to you, about leaving."

For an absurd moment, Genevieve wanted to laugh. That he was not staying was no surprise to her. In fact, Gen wasn't even sure what he was doing at home. Maddie was no longer here to draw him to Westerlies and she was no fool to think that he even spared his wife a thought during the week - much less got out of his way to come and visit her. At this point, his appearance was a lot more surprising than the words that confirmed that he had no intention of lingering. Once, she had been so hopeful for this marriage. She'd be the Lady Rosier one day, she'd have it all and there had been in her heart the belief that they could make their marriage into something more one day. That they could mend whatever bridges had been steadily broken during the course of their union and turn it around. After all, they were stuck together - what was the point of being miserable in it? Now, a decade and then some after their little girl had been born, she had cherished no such silly notions. No, not anymore. What she took out of this marriage, now, was her children and the prestige the Rosier name gave her. It was the potential of power to be wield. It rarely showed beneath the good housewife and dedicated mother persona but it was there.

It was harder to do anything when her husband barely talked to her, she admitted it. When she looked at the women in their society, Gen knew that all of them influenced decisions and grasped power through their husbands or not at all. A woman could not do anything alone, not even if she was her family's heiress. Daphne was prime example of it. Even if she hadn't disgraced herself by having that child of dubious paternity but undoubtedly bastard born, she would not have been able to act as head of her family in a way a man would have. Unfair, ridiculous but the utter truth of their society. And it meant that unless Genevieve found a way of building rapport with her husband, unless she managed to get close enough to him that he'd be willing to listen to her, to lean on his wife close to an equal in certain matters instead of locking her out, being The Lady Rosier would serve her not at all. It would be a bitter thing indeed, to be so close to power and not being able to do anything about it. For all that she was willing to make the necessary compromises and take the right steps to fashion herself into a witch Carlisle could respect in a way other than her being his wife, she had a sneaking suspicious he wouldn't be so forthcoming, unwilling to meet her halfway and making her job even harder. At this point, she'd have to wait for her son to take over the mantle. Edmund, thankfully, was much more prone to listening to his mother than his father had ever been.

The rest of her husbands words, however, startled her enough that she had to cover it with a sip of her wine. His words didn't quite make sense. Why would he come to tell her he was leaving? Was it not- oh. Really, now. Tilting her head, she stared at him, eyebrow raised. Leaving, uh. Well, she had imagined that maybe keeping separate bedrooms for when he was around - which was so rare that Gen hardly saw the point - would be enough but trust Carlisle to be dramatic about it. Whatever brought around his decision was likely to be some loose skirt or another that pitched a fit about him living with his wife or such nonsense. Did he not think? Whatever he felt about it, however much he wanted to please the little whore warming his bed, it would look terrible for them to keep separate residences - not to mention the impact on their children. "If you're suggesting we live in separate houses, Carlisle, I'm forced to say that sleeping in different rooms would achieve much the same. It's not like you stay here that often, anymore," her tone was dry and flat, previous pleasant expression nowhere to be seen. "Think of the message you'd be sending, for heaven's sake. There's little need to be so dramatic."

This wasn't the easiest conversation that he had ever had to get himself ready for, but he knew that this would be what was best for the both of them in the end. Or at least, h thought that he knew that. He thought that he could say that this was going to be best. Because he didn't love her, not the way that he should have loved her after this long. He should have had more than something that passed for genuine affection for her. She was the mother of his children, and he did love her for that. She was wonderful at that. He knew that he couldn't have raised them to be the extraordinary human beings that they were, without her. She was the one that had done that. That had made sure that they had manners, and that they used them. She was the one that had made sure that they were always polished, and cleaned up, and that they looked nice. She was the one that had done all of that for his children, and he would never discount her for that. She had done an amazing job, because she was an amazing mother, but yet, he didn't love her. And that wasn't fair to her.

She deserved more than that. And he didn't know how to make her see that without sounding like an ass. He was going to be the bad guy here, and he knew that. He knew that there was no escaping the fact that he was the one at fault. He was the one that wanted out of this. But he thought that it was about time. Maddie was old enough that she was in school now. She was old enough that they could do this without it being so hard to try and decide what to do with a little kid. He knew that was better than doing this when the children were all little. He thought that their daughter was surprisingly resilient. She was more like her other aunt that he wanted to admit. Headstrong, opinionated, and yet, kind hearted, and terribly good at backhanded insults. He thought that she got that from the Burke side of the family, because his sisters weren't like that. And Genevieve's was. Maddie was going to be fine. And Edmund would be fine. Carlisle thought that this hardly changed his life at all really.

It was James that he thought would understand the least. He still hadn't come to the realizations that Edmund had. That Carlisle was the way that he was. That he didn't care for Genevieve as he should. He thought that this was going to be harder on their middle son than it was on anyone. Because he thought that for better or worse, he did know his wife. She was going to be angry, she would probably consider killing him, and then she would try and find some way to be better than him. He didn't think that she was the kind to sit around and feel sorry for herself for forever. She would bounce back with the same resiliency that their daughter had. The kind that could only come from being a Burke. But he thought that James was going to need some help with that. He took things more the way that Carlisle did. That his own eldest sister did. That there was always something that could have been done differently, that they could have tried. Only this time, Carlisle knew that that wasn't the case. Not about this. They had been living like this for too long. It was time.

He knew that she wasn't going to like this, but he wasn't going to back down from it either. He had made his choice. He had talked to Olivia, he had talked to the lawyer that she had set him up with. Carlisle had made his choice, and he knew that the timing could have been better. His father was still dying in secret. He knew that his sister was worried that their cousin was falling apart at the seams. But he thought that he needed to do this. Now more than ever. "That's not what I meant either. I meant, I think it's time we admitted that this doesn't work. We both know this doesn't work." They had never worked, not really. A political marriage, that had produced three great kids. But they didn't work as a couple. They never had. They didn't have all that much in common outside of the children. "I'm not trying to send any message, except that in the end, maybe it's better to make our own choices, and not let someone else dictate all of our lives. You can't tell me this life was your first choice either Gen…" He didn't regret their life, it hadn't been a bad one by any means, but it couldn't have been what she wanted either.

Did Genevieve sometimes wish that things had been different? Yes, of course she did. She didn't know a single person alive that didn't have regrets or what ifs - maybe Theo but was he truly alive? - and it was natural to wonder, no matter how happy or content one was with their life. She, however, didn't do so often and almost never allowed herself to think of what would have happened in her life if it hadn't happened like this. What was he bloody point, truly? Everything was already said and done, set in stone. If wishes were horses or so goes the saying. Instead, she focused on making what she had closer to what she'd rather have. It didn't always work, mostly because there were always other people that refused to play along, but it was better than accepting. Better than just letting it happen. Better than wishful thinking and languishing in one's own misery. Or so she had thought, really. Because, from what she was gathering from this conversation, it seemed that her husband spent his precious times on fantasies doomed to go unfulfilled. How ironic, that he tried not a lick to help her fix this marriage, didn't make a bloody effort to make this work and yet he spent his energy in silly romantic fantasies about this or that.

What would complain about it solve? It wasn't working, of course it wasn't. He'd never tried! And if he only noticed now, then he was likely too busy chasing skirts and wallowing in his own broodiness to pay attention to his marriage. It hadn't worked for a long time, now. "Well," she sipped her wine again, or pretended to, because this wasn't a conversation she even wanted to have - doing this whilst tipsy was a recipe for disaster. "Points for effort, I suppose. You're half a decade too late for that realisation, husband, but better late than never, some would say." Some, not her. For her, if something had to be done, the time for it had long passed. Whether to finally work together to fix their relationship or to make sure they'd both live like some purebloods did - married in name only and living separate lives -, it was too late. Now that they've lived so long like this, change wouldn't be seen as natural. There would be awful rumours about what happened and Genevieve had little patience for it. What was left for them other than endure? Maybe she should have been a little less sarcastic, a little more serious. But it was night, she was not sober and her husband was touching a subject they'd both been happy to ignore for years. Her patience had limits.

Genevieve did laugh when he spoke of choices. Choices, choices. She was a witch. A woman. A Burke. What was choice? Nothing. Maybe in the fact she had been allowed to name her daughter? That was one of the few choices she remembered having made, really. Or maybe the colour of the living room curtains. What did a pureblood witch even know of choice? Her husband was less connected to reality than she had expected him to be. The use of her nickname did soften her, though, against her will. Laughter fading, she shook her head and looked up to him, eyes bright with wetness even if no tears fell. Genevieve had never cried in front of her husband and she wasn't about to start now. "First choice? Carlisle, I've never had any. Not in how I dress, what I eat, who I could befriend. Everything was chosen for me, laid out in front of me and imposed. I never wanted to marry anyone in particular because I knew that, in the end, it wouldn't matter. I didn't choose this, no. But what have I chosen in my entire life?" Suddenly very, very tired, Gen swallowed the rest of her wine and looked up at her husband again - eyes dry again but defeated. Non-combative. If she fought whatever conversation he felt like they needed to have, it would last longer. Best just let him get this out. "What is this about, Carlisle? Truly."

tags: Carlisle

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