Mirrors

June 21st, Wednesday

Look at this. It's the elephant in the room, at least in my eyes. I stared at my wedding ring along with the engagement ring that Hudson had given to me. I had been staring at them for about 45 minutes now while Christian slept peacefully next to me. I couldn't stop looking at them, feeling the cool rose gold that was wrapped around my finger and moving my hand to the side to watch the diamond sparkle in the light.

Each ring held so much meaning, the band signifying marriage, commitment and the union of husband and wife. But the engagement ring held a deeper meaning, this small piece of jewellery had a past even darker than mine.

Claire had worn this when she was the housewife and possible trophy wife to Charles. She had worn it from the start of their engagement, throughout her marriage and depression and until her tragic death. And now I wear it, as Hudson's housewife. For a while now I've been noticing that things are lining up in the same way his parent's life was. He's a career-driven man, and I am a desperate woman looking for an escape.

I closed my eyes and shuddered, "No, that'll never be me. I won't let it go as far as to kill myself." Sighing heavily, I glanced over at Christian who slept soundly and I smiled a bit, thinking about him and last night and just our whirlwind reunion within 24 hours.

Reaching out my hand, I gently touched his face. A part of me did it because I wanted to make sure he was actually here and this wasn't just some beautiful vivid dream of mine. Bringing my hand back, I sat up and moved my legs to the side of the bed and planted my feet on the floor, I quietly got out of bed and took his t-shirt.

As I pulled the shirt on over my head, I walked across the room and ended up stubbing my toe on a chair in the room and winced in pain, crumbling to the floor. "Sweet fancy Moses." I groaned, holding my big toe.

Soon I heard a low chuckle and I peeked at the bed, glancing up to see Christian slowly sitting up, the sheet draped loosely at his hips. He smiled, rubbing the side of his face. "What happened?" He asked in a tired voice.

I started to laugh, "I stubbed my toe on that damn chair over there."

He smiled and shook his head, "Are you okay?"

"I guess so." I tried to be serious, but trying not to smile is a hard thing for me to do.

"Come back to bed." He spoke in a warm and gentle voice.

I grumbled and crawled back onto the bed. He snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me into a kiss. "Good morning, beautiful." One of his hands found its way to my belly, rubbing it gently. "Good morning, baby." He cooed, looking down and talking sweetly to our child.

"How did you sleep?" I asked him, running my fingers through his hair.

"It was the one of the best rests I've had in a long time." He smiled, looking relieved and happy. "How 'bout you?"

Giving a grateful sigh, I smiled softly, "It was really good." My hair was tucked into the shirt, so I pulled it out and ran my fingers through it to comb it. His gaze dropped from my face to my neck and he became interested in something. "What's that?"

I looked down and realized that he was looking at the necklace Hudson had given to me, I guess I forgot I was wearing it yesterday. Hudson's voice was in my head, repeating the same thing he said when he gave this to me; "So when we're in London, you'll have a little piece of New York with you, and while we're here, you'll have a little piece of London with you."

My expression faltered and I clutched the little charm in my hand, "Nothing special." I proceeded to unhook the clasp and remove the necklace, then I reached for the rings and paused for a moment but not for long. I took them off and was about to get up to go put it in my bag, he stopped me and held my hand. "Avery, what's up?"

I hesitated, but the comforting gaze he gave me reassured me that he wasn't the type to judge, so I took in a deep breath and just told him the truth. "It's from Hudson. He gave this necklace to me when he came back from London in March, just before I told him about us. I guess I forgot I was wearing it."

He nodded and watched me for several moments, "Ave...what are we going to do? What's gonna happen when we go back to London?"

When we go back to London. I'm glad to hear that he'll be coming back with me, but I felt sick at the thought about what will happen when it's time to leave Paris, when I have to face Hudson.

Giving my shoulders a shrug, "I don't know. Christian, I just want us to enjoy this week and not have to think about it right now. Do you think we can do that?."

Quiet for a long time, he finally smiled and nodded, "Alright. Let's not think about that." He leaned in close and kissed me. I blushed and smiled, "Thank you."

"So what did you want to do today?" He asked, laying back and placing his hands behind his head and smiling at me wickedly.

I had many ideas of what we could do today, but I know the first thing that needed to be done today was to go see Blair and apologize for last night. "First thing's first, we need to go see Blair."

He sighed and closed his eyes, making a sad face. "Awe."

I raised an eyebrow, "Christian, we have to. And I'm doing a piece on him, so I'm gonna have to see him everyday."

He opened his eyes. "A piece? Who are you working for?"

"Interview Magazine." I smirked, feeling proud.

His small smile quickly grew into a grin, "No way, Avery that's great. So did you just not apply for National Geographic then?"

My smiled faltered and I gave a short laugh, "No, I did. They just politely turned me down."

He sighed and closed his eyes, "Babe, I'm sorry. Do you know why they turned you down?"

"My writing wasn't their style, and I didn't have any references."

"What about me? I wrote you a reference letter." He stared at me.

"At the time we weren't even in contact, I wasn't about to use your letter." I chuckled, "But it's fine. I'm with Interview and I'm loving it. I have so much freedom as to what I can write about, I like it much more than Rolling Stone."

"I'm still sorry." He replied in a quiet voice.

I held his hand in mine, "Forget about it, it wasn't meant to be." He watched me and finally nodded.

"I need to take a shower." I said as I slipped off the bed, "You're welcome to join me." I smirked, talking to him over my shoulder.

"I would enjoy that very much." He grinned, tossing the sheet off himself and following me into the bathroom.

We knocked on Blair's door and waited in the hall for him to open the door. Listening closely, I could hear his steps approaching and soon the lock on the door was turned and he opened the door to us.

"Well look who's here." He smiled wryly, leaning against the door frame.

Sheepishly smiling, I held up a paper bag that was filled with groceries from a market not far from here. "We're sorry. We've brought you a peace offering."

He lifted his chin and narrowed his eyes to peek into the bag, "I'll accept your offering. And apology." He moved and held the door wide open for us to enter in.

"The good news is, we've made up." Christian grinned, "All thanks to you and your apartment." He pulled Blair into a hug and kissed the side of his head. Blair pushed him back and laughed, blushing, "Okay, that's great. Don't...do that again." He smoothed his hair back into place and followed me into the kitchen area.

I couldn't help but laugh, seeing Blair react like that from Christian's foolery. Pulling each item out of the bag, I walked to the fridge and cupboards and began putting them away.

"I'm making us breakfast." I glanced at the clock and saw that it was quarter to twelve. "Or brunch, I guess. A celebratory one for your success, Monsieur Comeau. Your show last night was incredible."

He blushed, "That's thoughtful of you, thank you." He replied as he walked to the counter and took out a cup, pouring himself a cup of coffee, offering us a cup. Christian accepted and I declined.

"So, you're together now. Isn't that romantic." He chuckled. "So does that mean you'll be staying with Christian, or what?"

I looked up at him as I was whisking the mix for french toast, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean my time with you here and at fashion week is over. Blair, I still have my article to write on you, and the photo shoot. You're my muse, I wouldn't leave you." I replied, smiling thoughtfully at him.

He smiled back and nodded, "Okay."

"Now you two go sit down, catch up while I make us some yummy food." I ordered lightly, giving a wink to my man and he smiled at me, biting his lip. So they did as they were told and sat at the table, going right into conversation and sipping at their coffees.

While I began frying the food in the pan, I felt strange. Slightly lightheaded. I had to think back to when I took my insulin this morning. Perhaps I took too much, and I didn't eat much yesterday either. Already I knew that my blood sugar was low, if the headache and cool beads of perspiration from my forehead didn't tell me.

I didn't want to make a scene and take out my meter to check, especially since Blair is the only one who knows about my diabetes. Maybe I'll just pour myself a glass of juice. Setting down the spatula carefully, I tried to control my shallow breath as I walked to the fridge and took out a carton of juice. Reaching up to get a glass from the cupboard, my hand flinched and the glass came crashing down to the floor into small shards.

At this point I became even more lightheaded and Christian was at my side in no time. "Avery, what is it? Is it the baby?"

"No. I'm fine, I just-" I muttered, sinking down to the floor and trembling.

Blair had quickly grabbed another glass and filled it with juice, "Christian, please excuse me, quickly." He replaced Christian next to me, "Avery, drink this."

He handed me the glass but held his hands over mine, probably to make sure I wouldn't spill it. "Drink."

I nodded and swallowed a mouthful of the orange juice. He gently urged me to keep drinking, and I had forgotten that Christian was here. "What's going on? Blair, what's happening?" He asked in a panicked tone.

"She's a diabetic, Christian. Her blood sugar is low." Blair replied in almost a whisper, a troubled look appearing on his face as he thought back to something in his mind. "My mother was a diabetic." I could imagine Christian closing his eyes and sighing inwardly.

After downing the last bit of juice, feeling sick and humiliated, I lifted my eyes to Blair who was watching intently. "Are you feeling any different?" He asked.

My heart still pounded too quickly within me, but I knew that I'd feel normal in a bit. I just shrugged a shoulder.

"Do you think you can stand?" He held out his hands to take mine and slowly rose from his crouched position, "Where's your meter?"

"In my bag. My purse." I murmured, trying to calm myself. Feeling embarrassed, I struggled to look at Christian but I stole a glance anyway and he looked distressed, leaning against the counter.

Soon Blair came back and handed me my glucose meter and watched me as I checked my levels. Still a bit shaky after finishing up, I apologized for the broken glass. He shook his head and excused it, turning the attention back to me. "How long do you wait to check your levels again?"

"Usually about fifteen minutes." I answered him weakly. He nodded and ordered me to go sit down while he cleaned up and took care of the food. Christian wrapped his arm around my waist and led me to the table to sit down.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered as he gazed anxiously at me, stroking the side of my face and tucking a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. "I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what was going on."

"I didn't tell you because at the time I didn't feel the need to. This isn't something I tell everyone about, I don't just slip it into a conversation like it's nothing."

"But Blair knows." He sighed.

"He knows because he's seen me this way before." I looked down, remembering a previous time of the same situation. Christian stared at me in that intense gaze of his, blinking every now and then, seemingly at loss for words.

"Does this happen often?"

Rolling my eyes, I sighed heavily. "As of lately, yes."

"How long has lately been?"

"Twelve, thirteen weeks." My voice had become significantly quieter.

His gaze was unwavering and he swallowed hard, blinking and staying silent for a long time before mustering up the nerve to ask his next question.

"Does this have to do with the baby?" His voice faltered.

"Christian, I've had diabetes since I was ten years old. My health since then has always been...subpar. And right before I discovered that I was pregnant, my doctor had urged me to refrain from anything that could send my stress levels up, or throw my glucose levels off balance. Pregnancy has done both of those, but I am trying my best to keep them as balanced as possible." My throat burned.

He buried his face in his hands, "I did this to you. Avery, I'm s-"

"No, stop. You've done nothing. I've done nothing. Diabetes just happened and so did this pregnancy." I pleaded. "I've learned to accept this disease, you have to too."

"Of course." He breathed, pulling me into his arms and holding me close to his chest. "I just had no idea. But I'm gonna take care of you, I will, I promise."

I smiled weakly and just nodded. Blair approached the table and set down a plate of food in front of me, "Eat. You didn't have dinner last night did you?"

Apologetically I shook my head.

"Five small meals a day." Blair spoke as he walked back to the stove. Christian half-smiled at him, "You sure know how to take care of her."

He paused and then nodded, "She's like a sister to me." Blair quietly murmured, his back turned to us. I smiled and then sighed, pulling the plate closer.