Candyman

Chapter 14 - Miracle

The night had been exhausting, to say the least. You both had slept through silently, no arguments over what had happened during the dance. You were thankful for that small mercy he had given you. What was there really to say anymore? That you knew what words were going to fall from his lips, but you also knew they were for the wrong reasons? He didn't love you, not really. He loved what you could do for him.

Berlin rained again the morning after the gallery. The car took you swiftly from the hotel back to the airport, trunk packed with luggage, the dresses demanding their own garment bag so they wouldn't get ruined. You wanted to keep the black one, even though it was completely impractical and you would never wear it again. The gold one would get sold, along with the shoes, jewelry, and anything else Steve had bought for you. Maybe you could get a good five grand out of it all, at least have your rent paid for a few months while you figured out what was next.

The plane ride back to Heathrow was uneventful, to say the least. You made your camp near the front, setting up your computer to watch some trash TV while Steve preferred to work on his in the back. You expected that he probably had a shit ton of work to do following up with interested parties from the night before and there wouldn't be wifi on the plane back to Chicago. It was rather like the plane ride over, quiet.

Your heart hurt. Your head hurt. Your body was tired. You had never been one for just relishing in the moment, letting yourself live for the now. There was always something more, something else, another day to make plans for... but now there wasn't. You forced yourself to assess what was really around you. In around 12 hours, when all was said and done, Steve would be out of your life for good. That much you knew was true. That's why your heart hurt, as much as you didn't want it to. A little too much scotch with Tony, that accounted for your head. But your body, that was the tremendous amount of anxiety that was running through your veins. What were you going to do in the 13th hour? What would you wake up to tomorrow?

A plan. A plan to make a plan, that was all you could do right now. Take tomorrow to assess the damage, to run the numbers and to see what you actually had in the bank. Get your financials in order to figure out how much time you had until things got really desperate. And in 48 hours start applying for a new job.

You had always said you wanted a change. After all, that was why you went with Steve in the first place. Well, now you were getting it.

Wheels down at Heathrow, your bags whisked away to be loaded onto the commercial flight you would be taking back home. It was a short layover, only an hour or so. That was fine with you. For once, you didn't want to stay in London.

Still, you wasted no opportunity to grab some bags of Percy Pigs before going back. Who knew when you would be back again to get more? With barely a word you broke off from Steve, wandering into Marks and Spencers. You grabbed about five bags and a bottle of water before stepping up to the cashier, opening your purse for your credit card.

Only to find the stack of cash from the morning before had been stowed in your bag.

Asshole.

"That level of service deserves adequate payment," rang in your ears. Your jaw clenched as you paid for your candy, unsure of what you were actually going to do with the money. Could you use an extra $10,000? Yes, of course. But did you want it? No, no fucking way.

"Why did you put the money in my bag?" you questioned Steve who had found two recliners in the first-class lounge. He just looked at you confused as he took a seat, fetching his computer from his carry-on once again.

"So, we're speaking again?" he asked, his voice dry and unamused.

You rolled your eyes but didn't drop it, "I told you I didn't want it."

"And I'm telling you that it's not my money. Barnes certainly doesn't deserve to get it back but if you're insisting, I'll leave that to you to return it," he replied simply.