Diamond Rings

And Old Barstools

Making this choice hadn’t been something that he wanted to do, but it was something that was necessary. And he knew that he hadn’t been going about it in the right way at all. He thought that there was something to be said about that. But he hadn’t quite figured out what that was yet. He didn’t have an answer. He didn’t know what it was that he was supposed to have figured out by now to make this easier. But it wasn’t going to be easy. That was the simple answer. Nothing about this was going to be easy, and Carlisle was figuring that out. He had figured out that there was no solution that was going to do them any good. They were just going to have to make the best of what was, and that was that he didn’t love her. And she didn’t love him. And he was done with it. He was done with it, because he had realized that he could love. And maybe that was cruel. It probably was cruel. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t care about her. Because he did, she was the mother of his children, and she was important to him.

It was just that he wanted to be happy. And he wanted to stop being such an asshole. He wanted to not have to worry about what Genevieve thought. And he wanted to stop having to worry about what was going to happen the day that Harrison had finally had enough. Because Emmett hadn’t cared. And he knew that Emmett hadn’t cared, but things were different now, and Carlisle knew that the last thing that they needed was for Harrison to get involved in something that he didn’t belong in. Their relationship hadn’t been a choice for either of them. It had been the thing that had been decided, and they had just gone along with it. They had married in the middle of a war. They had had three children that were now grown enough to be in Hogwarts. Things were different. Times were different. And sometimes differences meant change.

This was one of those times. He had been to see Olivia. Getting a meeting with the Head of the Justice Department on short notice hadn’t been easy, but he had called in a personal favor. He was friends with her husband. He needed her help. And she had gotten him a lawyer. Assigned him one from her staff, and then she had shaken her head at him. Knowing that this wasn’t the popular choice, he thought that it was one of the better ones that he had made as of late. Carlisle wasn’t exactly known for making the best decisions in the world. More often than not he didn’t actually use his brain to think things through, and he was well aware that that could get him into trouble. There was more than one situation where he thought that it almost had. But nothing had ever come of it, and he wasn’t particularly worried. If something were going to happen, it already would have, and that would have been that. But now he had made a different decision, and he was bracing himself for the consequences.

Actually making a decision at all was a step further than he had ever gone before, and Carlisle was trying to find some sort of balance for himself. He had already made his decision. Now he was just set to execute it. “I’m not as much of a fool as you want to think I am, wife, but I am saying that I know it’s never worked. Well enough for children, yes. But not enough to be fair. I’ve never been fair to you.” And he hadn’t. He could admit that. He had been a bastard of a husband to her the entire time that they had been married. “Nothing. That’s my point. You never had a choice. But I’m giving you one now. I’m giving you every choice in the world. I’m leaving, Gen. This shame of a marriage, it’s over.” He pulled the papers that he had had drawn up out of the inside pocket of his jacket, and he dropped them on the coffee table between them. “We’ll get lawyers involved, figure out what you want, whatever you want. But this is over. We’re over.”

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Genevieve was determined not to shed a tear but- she wanted to cry. She'd never done so in front of Carlisle, in all those years of marriage, and wasn't about to start now. But what would it be like, she wondered? To be able to dissolve into sobs and know, with certainty, that he'd hold her close and soothe her. Wipe away the moisture and kiss her, promising all would be well. She didn't know, she'd never known. Genevieve- there was a reason why she'd never allowed herself to show weakness in front of her husband and it was because she couldn't know how he'd react. Would he judge her for it? Would he console her, support her? The witch didn't know, she'd never known and too many years had passed for her to even consider trying out. Try, try...she'd been the only one to ever try in this relationship, hadn't she? Try to keep them together, to keep appearances. Make sure the kids never heard anything, never saw anything amiss. During those hard years at the camp, she'd kept this family standing, had kept them together. Had Carlisle forgotten her support, then? Had it meant nothing? Twenty years dedicated to him and the moment it wasn't what he wanted anymore- he cast her aside.

The witch was fiercely glad that she'd never trusted this man. That she'd never given anything that she didn't have to. That, in the end, he'd never have anything from her but her body. Because he didn't deserve it. She'd tried, gods knew how hard. And this was her repayment. "Oh, Carlisle. You're not a fool. I never thought you were. I'd have been happier, I think, had you been one. I'd have done away with you and none would suspect a thing. A widow, young. Married to a Death Eater as barely more than a child, surely she couldn't have been blamed for his mistakes? Had you been a fool, you wouldn't be here still," and she'd have been free. But, in the end, she'd hoped they'd make it work. She'd stilled her hand, pushed away any resentment. She'd been the model wife and tried so very hard. Being the good girl Stella raised her to be hadn't worked well for her, apparently. She'd always known that it was a waste of time. "I didn't even need fair, Carlisle. I just- a bit of kindness. Willingness to try. You know I never said a word about...everything that I knew was happening. I just needed you...to pay attention to me, sometimes. I was willing to love you for it." But he hadn't. Whatever scraps of attention he'd given her after Maddie's birth had long faded to avoidance now and her willingness to be his wife had faded into anger. Now, she felt nothing. Or, rather, nothing that she felt expressing in front of him.

She rubbed her temple, a gesture of weakness that she'd hate herself for afterwards but this- it was hard. Did he think he was doing her a favour? Saving her? Did he expect her to thank him for that? As if he wasn't destroying her life, shaming her in front of the entire society and, basically, cutting her loose as if she meant nothing. Genevieve bit back a growl of frustration. "You're not giving me a choice, Carlisle. You're taking it from me. I don't want a divorce! There, that's my choice. But that doesn't matter, does it? Because, for all that you want to paint this for being for my benefit, it's not. It's for you. That's you, being selfish one more time. For the last time," she shook her head and stood and- she threw the glass on the wall, watching it shatter. Watching the wine stain the wallpaper. "You're taking everything away from me and you're not even sorry, are you?"

Looking at him, she had her answer. No, he wasn't. He'd never be sorry for anything that benefited him. And this? It was already decided. Gen would be surprised if he hadn't engaged a lawyer already. And she could fight, she could make this difficult and bitter and- but then, so could he. And Genevieve's first and only priority were her children. For them, she'd give in. For them, she'd allow him to do this to her. But she'd never, ever forget. "What I want? Since when that matters?" She laughed, bitterly. "But fine. And this is non negotiable. First, Edmund is your heir. No discussion about that. Carlisle, you know me enough to know that I'd go to any lengths to make it so. Don't make me resort to them. Second- I want to know her name. Which of your whores destroyed my life?"

tags: @ carlisle

outfit

words: 788

Diamond Rings

and Old Barstools

If he really thought about it, he wasn’t sure that this was what he would have chosen. This was not the life that he had chosen for himself, and on some level, he was sure that that was going to go a lot differently than it had in the past. He was going to have to figure it out. He was going to have to try and come to terms with the fact that his children were going to be angry with this. That Genevieve would never, and should never, forgive him this. This was his cross to bear, and it was his choice to make, and he knew that. Carlisle was not a fool, no matter what others thought. He knew his worth, and he knew what it was that he was going to want to do. He was going to have to figure this out. He was going to have to try and understand the things that he had done, and why he was doing them. Carlisle didn’t have answers. Not to the questions that he was looking into, and he doubted he would. But Merlin did he have questions.

This shouldn’t have been this easy to walk away from. It shouldn’t have been as simple of a decision to make as it was. But there was nothing that could really be done about it. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her. She wasn’t the only one in this relationship, if you could even call it that. Perhaps it was better to call it a marriage, or even an arrangement. She wasn’t the only one in this situation that could kill. But she wouldn’t have killed him. Not before Edmund was grown. And he knew that. He was the heir. Carlisle would take his father’s place, and that would happen sooner than anyone was going to believe. Because Edmund Sr. was sick, and Carlisle knew that the number of people that were allowed to have that information was very few. He had even fought him on telling Andromeda, and the woman ushered in Death, and happened to be his niece.

Carlisle knew that this was not the life that Genevieve would have chosen, but she was right, she had never gotten to have a choice. Now she did. Now she got to have a choice. She got to do whatever it was that she wanted to do. Because her father was dead. And her brother would never boss her around. Carlisle had known Harrison Burke a long time. And while he knew that his bond was to the elder sister, he wouldn’t harm the younger either. Kindness. She had wanted kindness. He was not a kind man, he had never been a kind man, but he hadn’t been cruel. Perhaps he could have been a little more discrete with his mistresses, but he had never been outwardly cruel to her either. He had never paraded them around in front of her, and he knew for a fact that he wasn’t the only man of the sort. Carlisle was well aware of the type of business her very own sister ran. But kindness? He was not kind.

Still, he knew better than to interrupt her. This was her turn. She was allowed to talk. To yell. To be angry. “I’m not taking everything. I would never take our children. I would never hurt them in that way. I’m not forcing you to leave here, you can stay, if you want it.” He wasn’t here anyway, he hardly ever stayed here in fact. But he wouldn’t be sorry. He wasn’t going to apologize for this, because one day, be it months, or even years from now, he thought that she would see. One day, she’d see that this made her free. “But you’re right, I’m not apologizing. Not for this, not for anything.” He wouldn’t. An apology came when you admitted that you were wrong, and Carlisle wasn’t. He wouldn’t think that he was wrong about this. “Of course, Edmund is still my heir. He’s my son. He’s our son. I would never take that from him. He’s a Rosier, as much as I am. So is James. So is Maddie.” Name. She wanted her name… Well that part he would just wait on. She could win on the front of the children, he never intended to take that anyway. But her name…

@ gen - 736 - carlisle's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOXOGRPHY 2.0

[googlefont="Wire One"]

Diamond Rings and Old Barstools

The wrongs and rights, the highs and lows
The "I love you's, " the "I told you so's"
Past few miles to wherever is home
Another morning waking up alone

What would be of her, now? That was the only thing that went through Genevieve's head, as she tried to internalise what was happening. Because this felt like a bloody nightmare- no, not even that. Because she'd never, even in her nightmares, imagined this would happen. There had been always that lingering knowledge, in the back of her head, that one day she and Carlisle would be living in separate houses whilst he would walk about with some slattern young enough to be his daughter. It had been- if not an easy thought, at least one that she'd made her peace with. Best case scenario, they'd carry on as they'd always done until one of them died and she wouldn't be obliged to do away with any pregnant whore he acquired in a fancy. Her expectations had been high, once, but they'd long ago faded to an odd sort of resignation. In a way, said resignation had made her complacent and she'd...settled. Which meant this completely blindsided her, to the point it had never been a possibility at all. Stupid, stupid- trusting men, of all things. As if she hadn't seen it, that they couldn't be trusted. First her father, now her husband. She had an inkling that Harrison would be another one to let her down, when she went to him with this.

Stay? In this house, the house that she'd spent half of her life, making it home. The house that she'd raised her children in, that they'd had the best moments but also some of the most terrible ones. Yes, she could see why Carlisle thought she'd want it. However- Genevieve could not stay here. Not by herself, alone. The scorned wife, who apparently failed her husband so thoroughly that not even twenty years and three children would give him a pause. Gods, her eyes were watering again. Genevieve would not cry, not now and not for him, but she wanted to. She wanted to be able to be weak. Most of all, she wanted Daniel now. She needed her brother. Gen- she could do this, she had to be able to do this. But why should she? Hadn't she sacrificed enough? Clearly not. Clearly she had never been enough. And the terrible thing was that it was not news. His sisters had never hid it, that they didn't think her enough. Carlisle certainly didn't, with how he spent his time with everyone but her. And yet- "I don't want the house. Give it to Edmund, if you'd like, but I'm not staying here. Not when you've shattered the entire life we built in these halls."

Honestly, she didn't even think she'd like to stay in the country. Everyone would know of her shame, they couldn't hide this. Carlisle likely wouldn't want to, since he was going through the lengths of divorce. And they'd- she couldn't handle that, being looked with pity and scorn. The failure, not enough. They'd speculate, of course, what she'd done to deserve being repudiated so. Disgraced in that way. Never would the blame fall on her- on Carlisle. He was a man, he could do no wrong. The shame and disgrace would be on her head. "Oh, gods. The children-," she half sobbed, closing her eyes. How would she tell them about this? Edmund was old enough to know that not all was well between his parents- but not even their firstborn would have expected this. No one could have. No, she couldn't break over this. Gen was their mother and she couldn't break. Opening her eyes, she swallowed dry and pushed it away. Her son- she'd speak to him in the morning. He'd- he'd know what to do, how to speak to his siblings. At the very least, he'd not judge her for her weakness. "Do not think I haven't noticed you haven't said her name. Who is she, Carlisle? I know her, don't I? Of course I do, she must be a pureblood. You'd not do such thing for some halfbreed milky faced harlot."

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diamond rings

and old barstools

one's for queens and one's for fools

If Carlisle could turn back time, if he could go back, and do all of it all over again, he thought that he’d go far enough back that Evan hadn’t died. He’d go all the way back to save his brother, and then who knew, the whole world could have been a different place. He thought that every choice that they had ever made would be a different one. That nothing that they had, or didn’t have, was going to make that much of a difference. Because this was the world that they lived in. This was what they had to contend with. And he didn’t know if there were ever going to be answers. If there was ever going to be a reason why…

If the world was a different place, it wouldn’t have mattered so much that he married. That he had an heir. Yes, he knew that it still would have bene important, that as many male heirs as they could get was better than the situation that they found themselves in now. Better than the one that they had now, where Edmund and James were it. Because he was the only one. Two older sisters. A Bulstrode nephew, and two Flint nephews. But Ed and Jamie were the only Rosiers. And he knew that they knew that. He knew that they were proud of that. But still…

It wasn’t an easy thing, and he was glad that James had come along, that Ed wasn’t the only one. If he had been, he worried that they were going to take all of this far too seriously. That someone was going to get hurt, and Carlisle didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on his sons. It was why they were free to make their own choices. It was why they could do whatever they liked with their lives. Ed had chosen medicine, Jamie would choose something for himself. And Maddie? Well, he had a feeling that his daughter would do just fine when she grew older.

This wasn’t about the children though, this was about Gen, and him, and everything that they had gone through that they were now standing here. Everything that he had put her through. Everything that everyone had put them all through. The world was not an easy place to live. Carlisle thought that they all knew that, but this, keeping this to themselves, keeping this quiet, handling it without a lot of fuss. It wasn’t going to be easy, and he knew that. He knew that it was going to be messy, and drawn out, and that he was going to have to concede things to her. But he would. He would give her whatever she wanted. He would give her anything, to make sure that he could make good on his promise.

Because words were just words. This was doing something about them. “Then it’s Edmund’s. It stays in the family.” The house was one of many in the Rosier name, but it would go to their son. That was fine, he could have it. “The children are strong. They will take it hard, I’m sure. But it won’t be the end of everything.” They were half each of them after all, and if there was one thing that he thought that Genevieve had been all of these years, it was steadfast in a storm. “Yes, you know her.” There was no sense denying that, he was pretty sure that before all of this they might have even been friends. Not good friends, but enough to use the term as much as the next pureblood witch. “And yes, she’s one of us.”

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