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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

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"So what would you do?"

Cora had just finished divulging the events of the previous night to Gillian over speakerphone as she dressed for the wedding. She adjusted the thin straps of her dress, pink as a blushing rose. Its top layer was embroidered with delicate beading, painting a scene of delicate snaking vines and flowers in circular bloom, not unlike dahlias. She turned the side of her body to better fix her hair, pulled upwards in a bun to expose the slender plane of her shoulders and the ridge of her collarbones.

She had changed some of the details around to not sound so immediately incriminating to her psychiatrist. 'A violation of trust' was how Cora had put it. No need to give the game away. Cora was reformed, but she was by no means perfect. She still played with her food, especially when it was deserved. After all, it took two to tango.

"It depends. You could be upfront with your feelings. Communicate how you felt you were wrong and ask for an apology. If you feel uncomfortable confronting him about it, you could also choose to step away from interacting with him altogether." Gillian replied, her tone familiar in its even tempo. Cora doubted she suspected a thing. "But it's ultimately up to you. After all, can you forgive an act of betrayal?"

Cora tilted her head as she considered this, threading a thin gold necklace around her neck. A single diamond pendant came to sit in the hollow. Perfect.

"Mm, I think so. Maybe. I mean, I expect him to do the same for me ... In the moment, I forgot all about it. I hadn't seen him in so long, I lost my head. I just couldn't keep away from him."

"It's natural. Given your history and your more recent thoughts, it might have been inevitable. What's important is that you set expectations moving forward. That is, if you want to move forward."

"Oh, I do. I would really like to move forward. I just don't want him to get off the hook. I also don't want to frighten him away. I don't know. It's like doing, fucking, neurosurgery sometimes. Navigating everything. But neurosurgery it's, y'know, it's life saving. So maybe that's not such a bad thing. I'm running away with the metaphor, sorry."

Gillian chuckled on the other end, eliciting an eyeroll from Cora.

"I think I've probably just internalised that nothing will ever come easy for us. I think most people wouldn't put up with him, or really any of them, without going insane. In a way they're all I've ever known and this is ... Par for the course."

"It's important to keep in mind that just because something is normal to you, doesn't make it right."

"No, I know. That's why I'm going to say something." Cora nodded. "Thanks for talking this through. You have such good advice. It's almost like you orchestrated the whole thing in the first place."

"I'm sorry," Gillian said slowly, "I don't catch your meaning?"

"I'm hardly being cryptic." Cora said with a snort. "You're fired. Be happy I don't report you to whatever board psychiatrists answer to. Hippocratic oath, my ass."

With that, she hung up and beamed. God, that felt good. She should've fired more people as CEO. What a rush! Maybe that was the pre-wedding jitters. Cora had always assumed that those were reserved for the wedding party, but maybe they were contagious. Love was a drug after all.

The sun was shining as Cora stepped out of the penthouse. Around her the city teemed with the same buzz of energy as a meadow on the dawn of spring. She weaved through the stream of foot traffic, the thin strap of her handbag cool against her warmth soaked skin as she slid into the Uber. From the driver, she accepted a thin stick of mint gum, fresh and cool on her tongue as she chewed. Today would be a good day.

She knew it was trite to have such a skip in her step. A myriad of problems had sat at the foot of her bed that morning, examined under the shelter of her duvet having eased a silk eye mask to the crown of her head. The deal and all its trappings, the predicament of Matsson, and of course, Roman.

Dust having settled, Cora had begun to process just what he had done. She didn't know how much he had heard but she could only assume it was everything - her mother, her father, every lament over their past, every fear of the future. She'd spoken aloud all of her sins to a confessional box with an audience and the humiliation of it stung. What she felt was not as simple as anger, that would have been too easy. Cora couldn't deny the thread of relief tangled in her hostility, wispy as fresh cobweb and just as sticky.

There had never been a world where explaining Reagan to him would have been easy, and she'd been doing it without the pressure to meet his eye. Part of her wished she could be mad, another just as strong just wanted to pretend like she had dreamed it all completely. Yet denying the admission meant forgetting what had followed and she couldn't do that. Oh no, she refused to.

Cora was considering this thought when her phone began to ring. She was careful to check the caller ID, though Matsson had put her on radio silence ever since their tussle the night before. Her brows rose sharp as she spied the name on the screen. Logan Roy.

"Uh, hello?" She asked, having raised the phone tentatively to her ear.

"So, I've been thinking. I appreciate what you did last night."

This was never a good start to a conversation with Logan, she could hear the string's attached, twanging beneath his callused fingers. She fought the urge to let out an exasperated sigh, channelling her frustration to the cuticle of her thumb as she dug her nail against the skin and invited him to continue in her silence.

"I just wanted you to know that I've asked Romulus to fire Gerri."

Cora could have laughed if she hadn't been so stunned. What left her was a choked noise, somewhere between a giggle and a snort, as the news sunk in. Fire Gerri? On what grounds? There was a reason he was telling her this, and she could hazard a guess. They'd played this game before, the yacht might have been a distant memory but Cora still felt the ghost of his hand on her shoulder. His eyes had glinted beneath the shadow of his brow, her vision still blurred by the summers of her youth. Not now. Cora would not fall for this guise.

"What do you want?" She blurted out, instantly regretting the decision to speak before fully gathering her wits. Cora quickly cleared her throat. "Sorry, uh, I mean why are you telling me this?"

There was a grumble on the other end, fabric against the speaker. Kerry's voice rung crisp and sharp through the phone. Apparently it had taken all of two seconds for Logan to rethink his kindness, or at least the choice to be the bearer of news.

"Logan is deciding to extend this offer as a sign of goodwill towards you." Kerry said without missing a beat. "He would also ask that you continue to help facilitate further communications if there were any breakdown after this current round of negotiations. However, we're hopeful that our visit with Matsson will ease over any rough edges that may have formed in recent times."

"Wait, he's not coming to the wedding?"

"No. The deal is a more pressing matter for Logan," was Kerry's prompt reply. "Frank didn't tell you?"

Her tone implied that he had been told not to. Cora felt a spark of irritation that she hadn't been trusted to lie. A little heads up would have been nice. She wondered if Matsson was aware of the planned visit, she could only assume so. His silence was now unsurprising, he hadn't taken well to the abruptness of their phone call the night before. She couldn't help but wonder if the disclosure's timing was a condition of his to keep her on her toes. He'd always been quick to notice her discomfort at being shut out.

"No." Cora said with a sigh, ignoring how close the question teetered on rhetorical. "Send my regards, I guess. But I don't really need, uh, Gerri's blood on my hands as thanks? Or the target on my back. So maybe you can let Logan know tha-"

"Logan is very firm on this matter." Kerry rejoined, and Cora sensed that the conversation had already come to an end. "That'll be all for now. Enjoy the wedding."

The line went dead and Cora locked her phone with a roll of her eyes, stashing her phone away. She chewed at the inside of her mouth, casting her gaze out the window. I will enjoy the wedding, she thought to herself with a curl of annoyance, in fact it'll be the best wedding I've ever attended.

The Uber driver dropped her off as close as he could, which was some distance from the dock itself. Cora had known the turnout would be considerable, but she hadn't fully conceived how large the crowd would be. As she weaved through parked cars, guided by the distant hum of music, she felt thankful that Connor had talked her out of delaying her first encounter with Roman to the wedding day. Would she even be able to find him through the crowd?

Surprisingly she found him waiting at the main entrance, wringing his hands. His eyes lacked focus even as she strode towards him, and she was reminded of the evening before when he had refused to meet her gaze, but soon he found her and briefly the motion of his hands paused. Cora slowed her steps, causing a group of guests to part their stream around her.

This was barely registered by Cora, who clasped the string of her bag and held it closer to her chest to steady the nervous fumble of her heart. Her mind had done her the favour of pulling a snapshot from their kiss to the forefront, the heat of his breath on her lips threatening her resolve. She steeled her insides against temptation as she came to a stop in front of him. If Gillian had been good for anything, it had been in the insistence that she couldn't simply let this go. Cora cleared her throat.

"So ..." Roman began, before she could summon the nerve to speak. His eyes swept her briefly. "Did some thinking, some soul-searching, and I actually realised that maybe I shouldn't have, y'know, done that thing I did."

Cora opened her mouth but no words followed. Was this an apology? It sure had the shape of one, though it was certainly lacking.

"Done that thing you did?" She asked, as though she had no idea what he could be referring to. She crossed her arms against her chest in an effort to not appear taken off-guard. "What'd that be?"

"Pfft, yeah, golly gosh I dunno. The whole ... Eh, little thing of paying off an old college friend to send me recordings of your more ... Intimate and guarded thoughts." Roman replied in a tone that could have easily been mistaken for casual, if not for the anxious flicker of his eyes.

It was this that kept her steady, defying the urge to look away. Now that he had spoken it aloud, she regretted pushing him to continue. She really did just want to forget it had ever happened, scrub her mind clean of everything she had said in those sessions and move on in blissful ignorance.

"Are you trying to say you're s ..." Cora said finally and gestured a hand towards him, summoning him to finish.

"Don't make me say the bad word, mommy."

Cora rolled her eyes.

"Well I'm not going to ask twice."

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry. You happy? I can do a little jig as well. Maybe take things where we left off last night if you wanna skip the vows."

"Mm, jury's still out." She was beginning to get whiplash from the conflicting emotions that were beginning to surface within her. Speak too long and she'd reveal just how flustered he had made her. Cora cleared her throat to change the subject. "So, you fired Gerri yet or?"

Roman grimaced.

"I was kinda hoping you hadn't heard about that."

"Why? Because you were going to try and get me to do it?" Cora snorted. When he didn't reply, she squinted her eyes at him. "Oh yeah, brilliant idea. 'Hey Gerri, you're fired, sincerely from someone who doesn't even work at the company'. Come to think of it, since when did you have any hiring and firing capabilities?"

Again, he didn't answer. Oh, right. He'd had a whole conversation with Logan after she'd left. Cora cocked an eyebrow, chewing her bottom lip.

"Well I'm not doing it for you."

"No, no, totally understand. But maybe you could do it with me. Together. You and I, firing grandma, as a team."

"The last time I was anywhere near Gerri, she could hardly look at me. How long were you sending her dick pics for? You never did elaborate on that."

"Might've started around the time you showed up. And might've reeled it back after Turkey."

"The self-control on you, Roman Roy." Cora mused, a shadow of a smirk on her lips. "Still, Gerri's all yours. I'm going to go find the bride."

She placed a hand on his shoulder before making her way into the wedding tent, feeling his eyes lingering on her back as she disappeared into the crowd. Cora had no idea if the conversation had gone well in the slightest, though the gnawing in her stomach was sufficiently eased. She could at least weave throughout the party, greeting faces she knew and others she didn't, with a soft voice and an easy smile.

Willa looked beautiful in her wedding dress, and despite both the visible worry on the woman's brow and Connor's snappy remarks to any of event staff who were unfortunate enough to cross his path, Cora couldn't help envying them both. Maybe one day, this could be hers too. Perhaps even someday soon.

Soon it came time to board the boat and Cora alighted to the upper levels, in search of the bar. She ordered a glass of Chinotto, served in a slender glass. She caught a glimpse of Shiv in the crowd, dressed in a suit with her hair pinned back and waved her over. Shiv joined her at the bar with a clipped smile. Cora was glad that it appeared that she was willing to play nice.

"I like the outfit choice. Very handsome."

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Would it make you any less angry with me if I was?"

"Hmm ..." Shiv pressed considered this with a squint of her eyes. "Depends if you buy me a drink or not."

"Could be arranged, long as you're fine with me not partaking."

"So it's sticking then is it?"

Cora nodded, relaxing when she wasn't met with a look of skepticism.

"Alright, I hope for your sake you're right." Shiv's voice could be mistaken for wistful, but Cora detected the exhaustion. "Just would've hoped you'd be on a bender to think this Matsson shit's a good idea."

"Shiv ..." she groaned, "can we just have one conversation that passes the Bechdel test?"

"Yeah I think you axed our chances there back in '04 when you started looking at my brother weird." Shiv waved the bartender over before turning back to Cora. "Order for me, something you'd have. I need the strong shit not to have a conniption."

"Whiskey highball, double the strength with a slice of lemon," Cora advised the bartender. "Something from my twenties, just for you."

"Jesus, I asked you to buy me a drink, not poison me."

"Too bad. Should've never trusted an addict, ex- or not. Thought Kendall would've taught you otherwise." Cora let out an airy sigh. "So, about last night ..."

"Oh I'm willing to not talk about it if you are." The bartender had brought Shiv her drink and she took a hearty gulp, licking her lips. "Wouldn't wanna break up all the love in the air. Have you seen Willa? Looks like she's about to burst a vein."

"Mmhmm." She was surprised that Shiv was so willing to let the previous evening slide. Cora relaxed momentarily, only to catch the look in Shiv's eyes. "What?"

"I finished your book." She paused, as if to allow Cora a moment to recover from the violent turn of her stomach. Right, she'd let Connor email it. Figures that Shiv managed to finish it off in an evening. "It was ..."

"You don't have to tell me," Cora replied quickly, clearing her throat.

"No, I want to." Shiv screwed up her nose, her brows knitting together with the effort. She seemed to be weighing her words. "I didn't realise the extent of a lot of the ... I mean, all of it. I thought I noticed a lot but I guess I was mistaken. Like the shit with your mom, I just ... I wish you'd told me. I really wish you'd just told me. I get why you never said anything about Roman but, I mean c'mon. You saw my mom. If anyone was going to get it, it was me."

"I know. I regret never opening up, but you understand, right?"

"I get it. It stings, but I get it."

"Thank you."

"The end though."

"Mm," Cora murmured beneath her breath. "The end."

"Kind of blindsided me."

"Me too."

Cora hadn't known how to end the story. In fact, it had taken her weeks. All books had to end, but her life marched onwards. How could she conceivably conclude something that had no natural finishing point? The answer had come to her in the night. Not as a dream, not even as a thought before sleep, but a kick in the gut. She'd sat up and leafed through Reagan's journal for the first time since she'd read through it. What followed were three pages of feverish scribbling. Her words and those of her mother's braided together. The bitter and the sweet.

"When are you gonna show Roman?"

"I'm in love with him," Cora blurted out suddenly. Shiv's eyes widened. "Sorry, I don't know why I said that. Actually, no I do. I'm going to show him everything and then tell him that I love him."

"Well ... Well you can't do that at Con's wedding." Shiv muttered, clearly unsure of how to respond. She was looking a little beyond Cora, at the floor, as though there were something fascinating in the pattern on the carpet.

"I know that. No, of course I know that. And I can't tell him until I'm done with Matsson either. And I can't be done with Matsson until the deal goes through." She kneaded her brow between her fingers. "So as much as I get you don't want that, I hope you can at least understand why I'm not going to let up."

"Fine. Yes. Ok. I understand. But ..." She bit her lip. "Look, he won't tell you this and I'm only ... I'm only saying it because I pieced it all together last night from reading and things he's said over the years but ... Cora the first time you left, you broke something. This second time almost ruined him. If you're going to, you know, to say all this shit an-and admit this finally, you have to know a hundred percent that you mean it."

Shiv spoke with conviction but Cora had only been half-listening. She had spotted Kendall marching towards them. His expression was grave, skin clammy and pale, and she realised with a start that his eyes were bloodshot. Cora placed a hand on Shiv's shoulder and gestured towards him.

She knew that look, the glassiness of a mind unfocused and in shock, suspended at the point of contact with the shadow cast by grief. A hollow ache pulsed through her core as Kendall gripped his sister's arm. The honesty of Shiv's confusion tore through Cora. It was the only thing that stopped her from trying to silence Kendall in a vain attempt to keep what seemed inevitable at bay.

"Shiv, you need to ... You have to ... Just, you gotta come with me." Kendall croaked.

"Wait why?" Shiv's voice was tentative and still reluctant. He took it like the twist of a knife, visibly wincing as she pulled away from him.

"It's dad."

There it was. It was all Cora needed to hear. The truth dawned slowly on Shiv's face, even as she denied it.

"Go, Shiv." Cora managed softly. "Trust me. Just go."

Shiv nodded slow and dazed as Kendall placed an arm around her shoulders and steered her away. Briefly he looked back towards Cora, the appreciation in his gaze thin but evident. She could only stare as the two of them disappeared. All of the air had drained from her lungs. Maybe she was overthinking, after all she was predisposed to assume calamity. It was a foolish thought that disintegrated quick as candyfloss dipped in water. This brand of dread was as known to her as an old friend.

She needed air, and she needed it quickly. Cora streaked to the nearest door, barely registering the bodies she brushed against in her haste. Outside the sky had started turned overcast, clouds that had not existed when she had first arrived now gathered before the sun like churchgoers in mourning. The slosh of waves against the sleek white body of the boat mirrored the pit of her stomach, acid bubbling with nothing to disintegrate but the tender flesh of her own anatomy. Beside the railing she sunk to her haunches as panic took her.

It was a selfish place her mind raced to, a kneejerk reaction, an ancient fear. Frank. What if something had not simply happened to Logan but the plane itself? Upon the thought, a bitter sob wracked her. She could not lose him, not when she was yet to work up the courage to say all she wished to. Time's lack had proven cruel many times before, why should she think history was not repeated? She crumpled beneath the pummel of intrusive thoughts. He was gone, just like her mother, just like the father she had never known.

"Oop. Uh, you alright?"

Greg's voice was followed by his hand. She didn't dare look up from the cave of her arms, stacked atop one another and shrouding the humiliation of streaked mascara.

"Y-Y'know, it's ok to fall off the wagon, right? I mean, it's a wedding. Just as long as, y'know, you get back on it."

It was the preposterous nature of his comment that made her head rise. He stood bent at an awkward angle. The cheesy grin Greg wore fell away at first glance of her.

"O-Oh fuck, shit, sorry I didn't think something was actually wrong." He screwed up his nose. "What's ... What's up?"

Cora could not bring herself to speak. She wrapped her arms around his legs and pressed her face into the fabric of his pant leg. From her depths, an ugly howl. She needed say no more.

≪ °❈° ≫

She could best have been described as a zombie when the time came for the siblings to emerge.

Logan Roy was dead, a fact that sounded as stunning as the image of Jesus risen from the tomb. Logan had not simply been a person but an ever haunting presence and even as truth beset Cora, part of her revolted. This felt like the ultimate move on a chessboard, sacrificing a key piece only to grip the opponent's subsequent folly of greed.

But it was undeniable, and as she found herself among the siblings in a private room on lower deck, she swallowed the urge to fight reality. She had had the chance to wash away her ruined makeup and replaced painted face for a mask of stone. Her hand rested iron clad against Shiv's shoulder. The moment she had set eyes upon her friend, she recognised the emptiness that sudden death had hollowed within her. It had been with grace that Shiv allowed Cora to hold her. Where words failed, a requited heartbeat bridged the gap. When her friend pulled away and their eyes met, it was mutual understanding that remained.

Cora did not attempt to embrace either brother, but nodded to each in turn. It was Kendall who she felt the most pained to look at, he seemed to have lost some part of his essence and stood before her frail as shed snake's skin. Roman was a powder keg, needy for something to ignite him. His gaze fretted around the room like a lost pet, searching for comfort that would go unmet regardless of any gesture parted. She wanted desperately to give in, knowing if she did that it would break her all over again. She had to be strong, to put them all before her, and despite the urge she remained in Shiv's shadow.

It wasn't until they were to depart that they exchanged more than a glance. Cora caught his hand as he passed her by, the tips of his fingers as icy as something brought out to thaw. All other words failed but the impulse to tell him then that she loved him. It was not the time but she hoped he caught its glimmer in her eyes, that he would know her silence was not one of begrudging but born from the fear of saying the wrong thing. Whatever his impression, he held his tongue, passing into the luminesce of a waning sun.

She stayed behind for the wedding, sat among the sparse spread of guests in white metal chairs and watched in as Connor held Willa against the dark divide. In spite of it all, the couple smiled. Cora had no energy to return it but allowed herself to cry once more. Beside her, Greg clapped his large palms in excitement. Whatever grief he might have felt, he eschewed it with peculiar grace. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders during the vows and Cora found herself leaning her head against him to hold her steady.

Connor found them both sitting in silence after the spark of festivity had swept away with the wind. Beside the dizzying blue of his eyes, wrinkles were set deep against his skin. In turn he clasped their hands, Greg first then Cora.

"Thank you." He said, meaning every word.

"Don't mention it. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. It's alright. I'm sorry too."

His fist furled around her heart and clamped down. It had taken death for her to realise he was the strongest of them all.

At home, her footsteps echoed. Olenska greeted her with hungry eyes and Cora scooped out a can of her food before retiring to her room. As her head hit the pillows, she knew that sleep would not come easily. Her phone, buzzing with concern, was left untouched beside her on the sheets. Cora did not even bother changing out of her dress. She lay with her hands folded atop her chest as though confined to the casket, and there she stayed unblinking for hours.

The dissonant notes of her doorbell awoke her in the early hours of the morning, not long after she had fallen into the liminal space of exhausted stupor and sleep. She turned on her bedside lamp, rising in haste. There would be no opportunity for a second ring.

In the time it took to climb the stairs, she knew it was him. With a deep breath, she opened the door and found Roman, eyes rimmed red and whites bloodshot. Grief did not age him, at least not in the way it had to the others. The man in front of her resembled the boy she had grown up with, juvenile in the shadow cast from the door's awning.

Her fatigue wiped by the sight of him, she stepped aside as he silently entered.

Though Roman looked around the entryway, he did so with clouded eyes, his mind thrown elsewhere. As she clicked the lock in place, the sound brought him back to the present. Cora waited for him to speak. It felt like the right thing to do.

"I don't ... I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk at all. I couldn't sleep. I just came here because I needed somewhere to sleep."

"Ok, yeah." Cora nodded. "You can sleep here, of course. Um, I have a couch in the den if you ... If that'd work."

The corner of his mouth twitched, so slight and quick that it was near imperceptible. Prompting.

"O-Or ..." Was this what he wanted? Yes, there it was in his eyes, his nostrils flaring in tempo with a sharp inhale. "You can sleep in my bed as well."

"With you?" Roman asked, brows pushing together as though concerned she might mean for someone else to lie beside him. Cora nodded. He cleared his throat sharply. "Alright."

Cora moved past him to the staircase, letting out a low breath through a tight 'o' that had formed on her lips. She took him by the hand and led him back to her room, finding that Olenska had curled at the foot of the bed. The cat looked up at the pair with a soft purr. Roman barely registered the animal. He was looking around with sudden curiosity.

"It's different than the other place."

"Yeah. Needed a chance of scenery."

"Uh huh."

Roman crossed to the side of the bed, his gaze lingering on the bedside. Slowly he eased down onto the mattress with a weary sigh, like the world itself had pressed upon his lungs. His shoulders slumped forward, the crook of his elbows resting on his thighs. Head bowed, in silent prayer or contemplation, Cora could only bear witness.

On the opposite side, Cora met the bed. On cautious hands and knees, she slowly approached him across the centre. Her chin eased onto his shoulder and turned her head to meet his ear.

"It's time to sleep."

Assuaging him down, he lay on his side and she curled against the outline of his spine until they were one. Cora lay arm around him, her hand caught between his palms and clutched to his chest. It wasn't until his breath, felt on the turn of thumb to finger, had found a steady pace that she allowed herself to sink down with him. Into an uneven depth, where the path ahead was obscured only to the step in front, and all else lay in dark.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

AUTHOR'S NOTES

i. sorry for the delay! i've started to go back and forth about where this was all going and i suspect my path's probably diverged a bit. i'd be curious to know how you guys think this will end? lemme know <3

ii. some of my life actually mirrored what has happened in the story as of recently, which led me into a bit of a depressive slump to be quite honest. i've had a few people pass away in my family and it's led me to question a lot about what i want in life. i had, in a lot of aspects, given up the dream of being a writer.

although i really never intended it, i think liquid smooth has helped me in a lot of ways and so this has been my emotional journey as much as cora's, which is probably why i've become so wrapped up in the story. i really do want to state for the millionth time that i appreciate so much how this story has been received. i never thought it would speak to people and when i started it, i thought it would just be a guilty pleasure project that i would be writing for myself. thank you a million times over if you're reading this, and times that to the nth degree if you've been one of the amazing people who have commented or reached out to let me know you've liked the story and my writing. it's helped me get over the pitfalls that have trapped me in the past.

OK I'LL STOP BEING SAPPY AND GET BACK TO WRITING NOW. thanks guys!!