As Stasia and Beau walked out of the restaurant, London's skies broke open above them. In a matter of seconds, the rain was pouring heartily down.

     Beau managed quite well with his coat, but Stasia apparently didn't have time to grab one. She faced the water with only her pink suit for cover. Her lustrous brown hair became soaked with rainwater in a matter of seconds.

     Beau felt a twinge of pity. His night's mission was to make sure that Stasia got home safely. Even if helping Stasia opposed the theory of his current dislike of the Needmore heiress, he supposed rain constituted a potential threat to his job.

     Beau gave a resigned sigh, bowing to fate. He pulled his jacket off. As his wife glanced at her husband's outstretched hand, holding his coat by the neck, her eyebrows rose. "What's this for?" Stasia asked.

     "The rain." Beau deadpanned. He nodded at it, pushing the coat into her hands. "Take it."

     Stasia's hazel eyes fixed onto his. A jolt of electricity ran down Beau's spine. He couldn't tell if it was fear, or something else that was much more unwanted. 

      "If you enjoy getting soaked, then be my guest." she quipped, rolling her eyes.

     Beau smiled. "Then we'll be caught in the rain together. Pretty romantic, right?"

     For a moment, Beau wondered if he'd overstepped. Stasia's eyes flattened. Beau cleared his throat awkwardly and turned his head, so that he was looking straight ahead.

     The sound of a soft l lilted into his ears like music. His eyes turned towards Stasia, whose smile was so mischievous and familiar that it tugged at Beau's heart, catching him off guard.

     Being with her was dangerous. Stasia's hair and eyes and smile reminded Beau that underneath her polished, cold exterior, the love of his life was lying dormant, as a shadow of herself.

     The question remained. Was she entirely gone? Or was the past three years of hatred an elaborate façade? On whose side?

     Beau swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he watched Stasia reach out for the coat. He felt her fingers brush against his as she accepted his offering, shrugging it on.

     Beau was a great deal broader and taller than Stasia, so the coat dwarfed her body. In contrast to her perfectly fitted and tailored suit, it was quite a hilarious sight. "It suits you." Beau teased, but from Stasia's confused expression, she didn't interpret his comment as a joke.

     "Thanks." Stasia murmured, so quietly that Beau thought he imagined it. Her eyes took on the color of the sidewalk, mixing slate gray with her characteristic warm hazel. Somehow, she didn't look distant or cold anymore.

     "Don't mention it." Beau mumbled back. He turned his head away. If Stasia smiled at Beau again, he was absolutely certain that the sight would make his resolution break. Hell knew what would happen after that.

     They walked around Burrow Market, masquerading as tourists. Stasia suggested getting an ice cream from a vendor cart nearby, which made Beau spin around to look at her in disbelief. 

     Stasia Needmore wasn't spontaneous. She absolutely abhorred ice cream, preferring artisanal, absurdly expensive gelato. Beau may have hated his wife, but he knew her preferences. Her tastes. Until he didn't.

     As the couple sat by the Thames, watching the stars settle into the night, Beau felt compelled to ask the question he'd wondered about for days. "What changed between us in the last week, Stasia?" he asked bluntly.

      His wife fell into silence. "What do you mean by changed?" she replied cautiously. Replying to a question with a question. Classic.

      Beau rolled his eyes and leaned back onto the bench, bracing his arm on its back. His fingers were just below where Stasia's back rested, so that his wife's long brown hair was just brushing his fingertips. "Surely you feel it too. We don't argue so much anymore. You feel... different."

      "Less robotic?" Stasia asked in a cool, dangerous voice. Her hazel eyes drilled into Beau's. "Or do I seem more receptive now? Was it a surprise to find that I'm still human, after everything?"

      The bitter edge to her voice struck Beau like lightning to the spine, but he didn't protest. He didn't feign ignorance. He simply pointed to the simple ice cream cone in her hand. "We never did things like this together."

      The frosty look on Stasia's face melted. "That's not true. We used to do things together all the time."

       "So what happened to us?" Beau asked honestly. His eyes were locked on Stasia's. "Why did we fall apart?"

      Stasia laughed wryly, commenting, "It would take much longer than tonight to dissect the last three years."

     "So let's start today." Beau answered simply. He stood from his seat on the bench, brushing himself off as he offered a hand to Stasia. "Tonight, you showed me that regardless of how I perceive you, you're softer behind those walls you put up. I want to know that woman again."

     Stasia's cold eyes fixed on his. "How are you so sure?"

      "Because you're the same person I fell in love with, three years ago." Beau answered. His eyes steadily held hers. "I don't forget people I love so easily."

      "Neither do I." Stasia replied, her expression guarded. "So it won't be difficult to forget you."

      That should have stung Beau. But he saw the way her eyes fractured, the pain that locked her jaw in place. As Stasia got up and stalked away, Beau smiled to himself.

      Deep down, Stasia Needmore loved him. That was all he needed.

      Beau raced after Stasia, and once he caught up to her, Stasia whipped around. Her brunette hair fluttered in the breeze as she demanded, "What do you still want from me, Beau?"

      "One night." Beau reached out his hand, his heart hammering in his chest. "I want one night from you."

      Stasia stared at his hand suspiciously. "Why?"

      Beau sighed. "You said you don't want to dissect the last three years. Neither do I. So why don't we start afresh?"

      Stasia arched her eyebrows. "Let me rephrase my question. Why now? What's brought this about?"

      "An epiphany." Beau said simply. He still didn't know where it came from. Or what he was doing now. He let his mind take a rest, and now his gut instinct was taking the wheel. He loosened the grip of his scarf on his neck, still holding his hand out to Stasia. "Do you trust me?"

      The suspicion melted from Stasia's face into indecision. She looked at Beau's face carefully for a moment, then her gaze flicked to his outstretched palm. Hesitantly, she put her gloved hand in his.

     Giddy with triumph, Beau took her hand and began walking down the street. Stasia walked with him in silence for a minute. Then she broke it with, "Where are we going?"

      Beau glanced at Stasia's eyes, bright hazel in the glow of London's lamplights, and he grinned. "Southwark."

     Stasia frowned. "But we've been to Southwark so many times. I went last month because of June's gala-"

     "Can you turn your brain off for five minutes, Stasia?" Beau asked seriously. He really wanted to know how she would respond.

     Stasia's eyes turned icy as she glared at Beau. "Excuse me?"

     "You're excused." Beau deadpanned. "Just look at London through my eyes for once, Stasia. Really look. Don't analyse it, don't reflect on the history of everything you see. Take everything in, as it is now. As it will continue to be when we leave."

     Stasia rolled her eyes. "Nothing is constant, Beau. In ten years, the pavement we're standing on could be a museum or something." she gestured to the floor with an endearingly annoyed expression.

     Beau frowned. "You said you trust me, so listen. Take a moment." he thought to himself. "Okay, how about we do something."

      Beau stopped without warning in the middle of the pavement, causing Stasia to nearly trip as she shrieked, "Beau, what are you doing?"

     "Giving you a lesson. Now face me." he ordered. Stasia frowned, jutting her outer lip out with annoyance, which caused Beau's eyes to flick to her mouth. It was ample and sweet looking, and Beau really wanted to... he was getting off track.

     Beau took Stasia's shoulders and gently turned her so they were face to face. "Close your eyes." he said softly, and she obeyed, to his surprise. "Do you feel it?"

      "The wind?" Stasia asked, and Beau nodded. Her temple creased with a frown. "I can't see you nodding because my eyes are closed."

     Beau mentally facepalmed. "My bad. Yes, I mean the wind. But also the faint mist in the air from the rain, the gentle swaying of the trees in the breeze." he smiled to himself. "London is so beautiful at night, and we take it all for granted."

      "I guess." Stasia agreed dubiously. Beau stared at her eyelashes; they were long and just the same brown as Stasia's wavy hair. "What's the point of all this?"

     "There is no point." Stasia huffed in response, scowling, and Beau elaborated quickly. "I did this because you're always overthinking, Stasia. Sometimes you have to stop your brain from dissecting and analysing, and just see things as they are."

     Stasia opened her eyes and cracked a smile. "Since when did you get so wise?"

     "Marriage does teach people a thing or two, you know." Beau joked. Stasia nodded, looking into his eyes with a smile. He thought he saw her eyes change, softening a degree.

     "Even before marriage, you always showed me a different perspective." Stasia murmured. She turned to stare out into the street, but she kept talking to Beau. "That was most of the reason why I fell in love with you. I know I can get caught up in my business. But work has always been my life, and I've never known anything different, except you."

     "That's not true." Beau objected. "You made the Lion Group your life. It was never your life to begin with."

     As the sentence left his mouth, Beau realised as he spoke that this was the wrong thing to say. Stasia allowed him licence to speak today, more than they'd ever spoken in the past few years, but he'd finally gone too far.

     If Stasia's eyes were icy before, they were positively burning as she faced Beau slowly. 

      "Don't ever undermine my work." she said quietly, in her most emasculatingly stern voice. "You have no idea of what I've sacrificed to get here. I've embraced my life after years of struggle, and I never once needed you to support me. So don't try to start pushing me now."

      She stormed off as the rain began pouring down on the couple. Beau knew without a doubt that Southwark was nothing but a dream now.

///

     The days that followed their disastrous walk were monotonous. Beau sat at his desk, and worked, and went home. Meanwhile, Beau did everything in his power to avoid seeing Stasia Needmore.

     But when he caught glances of Stasia at work, he was reminded of the night they spent together in the city. His wife looked in her element amongst the senior department heads, as she listened and scheduled and presented. 

     This was Anastasia Needmore's calling. Becoming a CEO was always her goal in life. Even if it sickened Beau to his stomach.

     He tried his best to forget the woman from three years ago, who'd crept up in his memories lately. Traces of brown hair fluttering in the breeze, sweet hazel eyes fixed on his with the intelligence of an owl.

     Recently, newer memories began cluttering Beau's thoughts. The scent of a raspberry perfume lingering on his borrowed black coat. Her smile, against the background of a London storm.

     Beau shook his head, reminding himself to concentrate on his paperwork. Although recently, Beau was feeling that endless paperwork wasn't his calling. He debated scheduling a meeting with his busy wife to negotiate, but he doubted she'd have the time for him.

     He was desperate to hand in his notice. But yet again, the obstacle in his way was Stasia Needmore. She wouldn't tolerate Beau leaving her company. The image of a happy, prosperous couple hand in hand would dissipate immediately, in the eyes of the public- not to mention the office.

     Fire would rain from Stasia's eyes before she let him leave. Beau dropped his papers onto his desk, lost in thought.

     "Are you busy?" Suki Waterhouse's cool, sleek voice pierced Beau's ears. He initially wondered if he was dreaming it up, but then the woman herself strolled through his door.

     She was wearing a pink suit dress with a matching hat. The overall effect of the outfit was deceivingly innocent. But when Suki decided to pay Beau a visit, carnage almost always followed in her wake. Beau could practically feel his blood pressure rising from the stress of it. Powerful women were the bane of Beau's existence at the moment.

     As Suki sat opposite Beau, he shut his laptop lid quickly as though he had something to hide. Even though he was only working on a dreary report for Stasia on the company finances.

     Beau sighed, raking a hand through his hair as his mind spun itself into a frenzy. "Suki." he greeted her shortly. "What are you doing in my office?"

     "You tell me." Suki replied saccharinely. She arched her fine eyebrows at him, crossing her legs as she asked, "What happened yesterday after Stasia got drunk? You both vanished into the night."

     "I didn't realise that I was your personal ask and answer machine." Beau suggested, arching his eyebrows. "Should we braid each other's hair and gossip, too?"

      "Every night before we go to bed." Suki rolled her eyes. "Are you going to answer my question?"

      Suki kicked her heels up onto Beau's desk, smiling. The strategic expression she wore was very reminiscent of Stasia Needmore. Well, two could play at that game.

      Beau smiled back, replying with an equally innocent expression, "We got ice cream. Walked a bit. That was most of the evening."

      "Oh, interesting. Because from my perspective, it looks like amity was far from your plans last night." Suki said with the air of an angel. A strange tension was filling the room. Beau knew he was missing out on something important.

     Beau frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

      "I found a very interesting document in your secretary's office this morning." Suki posed. "Concerning your wife of four years. Ringing any bells?"

       "Document?" Beau repeated. His heart started hammering in his chest, because he knew exactly what Suki Waterhouse was alluding to. "I don't know what you're talking about."

      "Don't act stupid, Beau. It doesn't look good on you." Suki reached for her bag and drew out the dreaded agreement, dangling it from her fingers. Those fingers sported scarlet fingernails, resembling claws.

     Suki's eyes drilled into Beau's. "Let's cut to the chase. Are you trying to divorce my best friend?"

///