<b>Location:</b>Gramercy Condominium - the Past<br/><b>Tagged:</b>Memories<br/><br/><i>"You can't do this to me, Faith.  Be reasonable."  <br/>
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"Please keep your voice down, Harold.  Chloe just fell asleep and you know she needs her rest after going in for a treatment."  Calm and quiet, any passion in her voice had long since been given over in the face of the other, stronger, more horrible emotions she faced an an hourly basis ever since her daughter became ill - and that's all she allowed herself to think. Chloe was just ill, sick, and would recover instead of living, if it could be called that, with terminal cancer.<br/>
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"It was a mistake, I know.  I'm sorry I was just, just lonely.  You haven't wanted to be intimate with me since..."  Harold Vaschon pushed his fingers through his hair, thick blonde hair that she used to love running her own fingers through.<br/>
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Turning the blame onto her was something Faith might have accepted.  Turning to another woman for sex was something she might have also forgiven, even after she caught him and that slut in her own bed.  What Faith could not accept, would never accept, was that Harold had repeatedly lied about needing to work, to settle some big deal, and skipped appointment after appointment to fuck another woman instead of being there for his little girl when she needed him.  Being there when she cried out and shook so hard and was so scared that not even Mommy was enough and she needed Daddy too.  Harold, coward, despicable selfish coward, used the convenience of a lie about his career to abandon his daughter when she needed him the most.<br/>
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"Mommy?"  From the bedroom, once bright with toys and laughter and now filled with a child's hospital bed and a tang of sour vomit and disinfectant, Chloe's voice called out.<br/>
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When Faith turned to go, Harold grabbed her by the arm.  Faith stopped, not trying to pull away but simply giving him a cold look.  <br/>
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"Stop choosing her over me, over us," he said, voice angry.<br/>
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"You're despicable.  Get out.  Get.  Out," she repeated, each word a sentence of reproach and a hurt so deep it could never be forgiven.  Harold let go and the door slammed.<br/>
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"Mommy?"<br/>
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"It's okay, Chloe.  I'm here.  Mommy's here."</i><br/><br/><hr class="bbc-hr bbc-hr--3"/><br/><b>Location:</b>Gramercy Condominium - Lobby & The Split Bean<br/><b>Tagged:</b>Any<br/><br/>Standing in her daughter's room, just beside the hospital bed that she'd refused to have removed, Faith reached out to touch the stuffed bear that Chloe had picked out at F.A.O. Schwarz.  "Mommy's here," she said to the bear, then caressed its head one more time before leaving, shutting the bedroom door quietly as if she was worried about waking someone sleeping inside.  The wood was cool against her forehead as she leaned against it but no tears came to wash the blue in her eyes down her cheeks and replace them with sullen red tones.  A deep breath, then another one, gathered enough resolve for her to stand up and walk away from the memories inside the room.  Gave her enough resolve to shower, to dress, and even enough - today - to take the elevator from her penthouse down to the lobby.<br/><br/>"Ms. Noel," the security guard in his little desk by the elevators stood up.  "It's, it's nice to see you, ma'am."<br/><br/>"Thank you, Charlie," she said and gave a smile that only came from her lips.  "I thought I might get some coffee?"  It was uncommon enough for her to be out of the penthouse since - it was uncommon enough that Faith felt like she was explaining, justifying her presence to the security guard instead of just exchanging pleasantries.<br/><br/>"Yes, ma'am.  You need anything else, you let us know."<br/><br/>A hint of a smile was his answer and Faith went past him and was soon entering The Split Bean, the coffee shop of the Gramercy Condominiums.  A chalk sign declared that today's light roast was New England, the beans toasted until just the first crack.  It was very well done, she noted, the pastel chalked lettering and fanciful border showing real artistic talent.  Probably some girl at the city university, full of life's promises and hope and boundlessly young and resilient.  Not the sort of girl she'd been once, but at least she had wanted to be like those girls if not one of them.  The girl her Chloe might have become one day, Faith living vicariously through her and the three of them, husband, wife, and daughter living a happy dream.<br/><br/>After she ordered her drink, the light roast, small, with whole milk instead of cream, Faith stood by the counter and waited for her name to be called after being written in Sharpie on the side then read off by the barista's voice.  Around her people checked their phones, living dozens of simultaneous lives with their friends and family.  Faith's phone was...somewhere.  Probably in her nightstand.  She hadn't used it in months so it was probably de- probably out of batteries.  Just like her iPad, her laptop, her Fitbit.  It was easier that way, like going by Noel instead of having to spell Vaschon to people.