Chemical Poison . Howard Stark

Chapter 49

No one stares at them as they walk on the footpath, both of them avoid treading on the polished black shoes of businessmen. They hadn't said much since they left the house, ignoring the morning entirely. Howard had made her a cup of tea and sat her down on the sofa - after that was a blur to her. She can remember Howard's muffled voice and the ring from the telephone.

She would later find out when she stepped out of the bathroom dressed that Howard had cancelled work. He was seated at the small circle table - the same table she has spent thousands of meals with her father, and more recently Howard. With his reading glasses that he doesn't dare wear anywhere near the public eye, she watches as he reads the paper. She can guess the articles inside:

ITALY SURROUNDS: WAR TO FINISH BEFORE CHRISTMAS?

Captain America needs YOU to BUY bonds for OUR soldiers!

Gov. Long suffers a heart attack, see page 13.

STARK RETURNS: Can technology really beat the Germans?

It was always the same. Every day for the past week, the newspapers and the radio, the gossip and the magazines followed the same structure. It began with America's victory, whether or not America had any contribution to it. An Allied win was an American win. Then, Abraham's failed experiment would hold up a car or two; surrounded by women he would ask for donations - money that Anneliese knew was not going directly towards the soldiers.

Eventually, the paper would recount about the higher-ups. Information turned gossip once celebrities and socialites alike appeared within the fine print. Howard's name was always printed. Whether it was an article or a passing 'STARK' comment, his name would be immortalised by the technology he created.

Yet, Anneliese didn't move from her spot - refusing to know what new causalities had been counted over the weekend. She stares at him. At his glasses that momentarily make her throat flush; at the deep brown coffee in his mug that contains two sugar cubes; she stares as he continues to read information he would've received days before the press even got their ink-stained hands on it.

He doesn't look up from the paper before he speaks, "Are you ready?"

She doesn't answer him straight away as she continues to stare at him as he wets the top of his finger before he turns the page. It was a loaded question and he knew it. Howard hadn't asked her what had plagued her sleep or why she cried for hours. He had just stayed by her side, whispering her name and repeating 'You are safe, love' until her face had grown numb.

When she had dropped the teacup earlier that morning, staining her nightdress, he had helped her towards the bathroom and into the bath. Her clothes were not removed and Howard had carefully taken to shampooing her hair - not mentioning a word about the broken ceramic on the floor. He acted as if nothing had happened and Anneliese couldn't be more grateful.

She was raised to act as if everything was fine, even when they were glaringly not. To pretend that it will all sort itself out until it does.

Had she been raised any differently, maybe she would cry about her fears of her Uncle - fears she has pushed to the side to protect her father. Had she been taught that she was allowed to not be okay, she would hold onto Howard and not let go. Whimper about the split second she had thought her Uncle had won and he was dead.

But no such thing had happened and it seemed she hadn't needed to tell Howard.

Over time, when their fake dating had first begun, and a real relationship bloomed through a fake engagement, and eventually to a sham marriage that felt anything but a sham - he had somehow begun to understand her in ways her parents never could.