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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

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ONE DAY BCE

Cora stared at the top of the staircase and shifted in her seat. She tapped nervously against the top of the table, the crescent shape of her nails bending slightly on each impact. From her side, Connor lifted his hand and rested it atop her knuckles, ceasing the movement. She frowned. He shook his head.

"C'mon, quit it." He said firmly. "Drink your mocktail. Stop stressing."

Easier said than done.

She was sitting at a round table, empty save for the pair, in the middle of an upscale Manhattan restaurant. On the cusp of the wedding, Willa's nerves had gotten the better of her and she'd retreated to the bathroom with her friends. Cora had stayed behind with Connor, too rigid with worry to move. It couldn't have been easy for him, with his siblings hours late and his bride-to-be on the brink of ruin. In some ways, she could sympathise.

It was not the lateness of the Roys alone that had Cora on edge. An earlier conversation with Matsson had set aflame the gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It had begun when he'd caught an earful from Olenska.

Cora had been resting on the couch in the den, still covered in protective plastic. Olenska had taken a moment from trying to paw at the upholstery to no avail and had pounced directly onto her stomach, winding her. As if sensing opportunity, Olenska had immediately padded up her chest and began rubbing her nose against Cora's chin.

"Is that a cat?"

Having caught her breath, Cora gingerly lifted Olenska off of her and placed her back onto the floor. Olenska grumbled, shivering her tail. Cora mouthed a scold before clearing her throat.

"Maybe."

"Why do you have a cat?"

Cora's tongue skimmed the surface of her teeth. "Because I'm a cat owner now. Housewarming gift."

Silence from the other end. She heard him shift against his couch and straighten up. When she spoke again, she could tell he had clenched his jaw.

"Why would you need a housewarming gift?" His tone was measured but the annoyance was self-evident. She huffed a sigh.

"Why else?"

"You said you would come back."

A sting beneath her skin. She clenched her eyes shut.

Cora was not a monster, but she certainly felt monstrous. This was a tightrope she was balancing.

It wasn't as though she had no feelings for Matsson. Despite his flaws, she had appreciated their time together. The problem was, it had not satiated her, and she doubted it ever would. Though she hadn't intended it to be, their relationship had been the ticking of a box, an experience she knew had been necessary but impermanent. She'd needed to know just what it was like to have a normal boyfriend.

But deep in her marrow, the truth rested plain. She could never love him. Even if Roman had not been in the picture, this would not have changed. When she looked at him, or indeed thought of him, she was not filled with the deep ache of yearning. A pleasant warmth, yes, but warmth alone could not sustain.

Maybe if things didn't work out, maybe in another life, but while the door was still ajar, she would not forgive herself if she did not at least try walking through it.

"I will," she attempted to keep her voice even-keeled. "Um, it's just I ... I found a place that I couldn't resist. But you know, the plane's always keep running. Well, unless we suddenly start doing something about global warming. Doubt that'll happen anytime soon."

He grunted in response. Cora sighed. There was probably no winning with this one.

"True." Matsson said after some time. "And realtors need a reason to stay active."

"I-I can't just sell it," Cora muttered, growing flustered at what he was not-so subtly hinting.

"Why?"

"B-Because I'll be too busy with the wedding. And flying back?" Hopefully by then, she would better know how to move forward. For now, she needed time. "I spoke to Logan, by the way."

"That so?" From the way he asked, it didn't sound like a question. "Go on."

"Um, well, he made it sound like maybe some of the board aren't so ... Aren't so happy with the amount." She tried her best not to soften the words while keeping sentiment intact. The goal was to urge him to the sale without spooking him. "Stewy Hosseini and Sandi Furness. They both, uh, think there's money you're holding back."

"Huh." Matsson murmured. It was not a good 'huh'. She'd heard it before, when he was considering whether or not she deserved something. "Nice way to ruin a good thing."

"What do you mean?" Cora asked, a little too quickly.

"Whatever you think it means," he paused. "You keep our talks private, don't you?"

"Of course Lukas." She strung the words together with surprising deftness. She could have almost believed them herself. "I have no friends in that family."

"So you haven't spoken to any of them."

Cora's heart began to race. "Oh, uh, no I've spoken to Shiv. It didn't go very well though."

"Only Shiv?"

"Only Shiv."

Technically it was true, right? And it would be strange to say Roman had only breathed at her. No, she couldn't trick herself. She was being deceptive, but there was a reason. A little white lie here and there was a necessity if she were to keep everyone happy.

The conversation ended shortly thereafter, Cora excusing herself to ready for the evening, but even after she'd hung up, the strain lingered. Her thoughts surfaced in the shower, dislodged with the shock of ice cold water. She braced herself against the tile.

Hands splayed, fingers dripping, she saw the ghost of her engagement ring.

Tonight, she would see him again. Tomorrow Willa and Connor would marry. Was she truly ready for this? Would tonight be the night? Cora tried to pantomime the words but didn't dare utter them aloud. She would only be able to say them when the time was ready and she would know the moment only when she was deep within it.

Before leaving, she'd taken the letter from her suitcase, where she'd kept her notebook and fountain pen even after she'd unpacked. Cora slipped it into the pocket of her slacks, high waisted and held in place by suspenders that cut parallel down a deep red satin blouse. A far call from her usual dresses and skirts but she was riding into battle. She deserved a new suit of armour.

Now she fiddled with the puff of fabric that billowed above the cinched cuffs. Connor eyed her warily from the corner of his eye but left this fidgeting uncommented. With a start, she realised that Willa had reappeared from the corridors to the bathrooms, but instead of heading back to the table, she was hanging a right towards the stairs.

Cora pushed back from the table, preparing to stand. Again, Connor reached to hold her in place.

"Let her go," he said. "Don't use it as an excuse. She has her friends."

She sighed and gingerly slumped forward in her seat. As much as she appreciated him for not letting her flee at the nearest excuse, she begrudged him all the same. Cora had not explicitly stated her intentions but she didn't need to. Her nerves were palpable, it didn't take a genius to see she was frayed at the seams.

Beneath her breath, she groaned.

"Maybe I should just head home. This is just going to be awkward for everyone."

"Oh yeah, make the list of people who've abandoned me this evening longer, why don't you?" His tone was sharp but it softened after a brief sigh. "I guarantee you, it'll be harder to see them at the wedding."

She pulled upwards and shook her head. "There'll be a crowd to hide in, at least."

"Yeah, my point exactly." He replied, folding his arms against his chest. "Bite the bullet, Cordelia. No use dilly dallying. There's never going to be a right time."

"I'll dilly dally all I want," Cora huffed. "I just don't want to be crucified."

"A little crucifixion never hurt anyone. Look at Jesus!" Connor replied with a shake of his head. "Come on. You can handle a little tantrum. Some could say it's a bit deserved."

"Would you be some?" Cora asked, cocking her head to the side. With a shrug, Connor nodded.

"You had your reasons, I know that, but at the end of the day he's my brother. Now, I'm not going to drag you across the coals, because I know Shiv's done that for me. And I won't lecture. But I'm not shielding you. You're gonna stay right here and give me a show." He said, adjusting his collar. "And you wouldn't let down a jilted groom, would you?"

"Of course not." She had turned almost as red as her shirt. "But what if ... What if he just doesn't forgive me?"

"That's the gamble. Nothing good in life without a little risk," Connor replied. "Have some faith though. Dogs have a habit of finding their way home, one way or another."

She hoped beyond hope that he was right. Cora remembered Roman's promise, that leaving would break him in a way that would be irreparable. She had been over the night so many times; in her sleep, in her daydreams, with Gillian. Now she was sure she regretted running, even as she each iteration had convinced her further that it had been the right decision. The woman she was today could not have been formed in the confines of the ivory cage.

She had known it. Even Reagan, beyond the grave, had known it. Surely with time, Roman would see it too, even if he didn't immediately understand. As much as she had traced his words, she knew her own. A touch soft enough not to scar. Cora glanced down at her hands, no longer cloaked in hurt or indifference. She could hold him now. She just had to prove that to him.

But there was no more time to meditate on Connor's words, because she had just caught sight of Roman, rounding the bend of the stairwell. Cora inhaled sharply, gripped as she set her eyes upon him. The room warped, senses dulling as her focus pulled sharp as the contours of his body.

His hair was shorted than she had remembered it, more cropped at the sides and fringe swept above his temple. He was dressed dark, in navy and black, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he strode the length of the room. Kendall and Shiv followed after him, exchanging a glance as they saw her.

She realised that Roman's gaze, though level, was trained just above her shoulder. He was looking not at her but through her, to Connor. A shiver rolled down her spine.

"Caught the bride on the way out." He commented as he took a seat across from them. "Is that ... all good?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah, yeah everything's fine and dandy." Connor assured unconvincingly. He glanced at Cora briefly. Beside him, she had begun to tap her fingers again. "You're late."

"Helicopter problems. They're like champagne problems but, y'know, airborne." Roman provided as Kendall and Shiv seated either side of him. He shrugged, keeping his gaze steady on the eldest Roy.

"Dad problems you mean." Connor corrected him stiffly. He cleared his nose. "But don't start. I don't wanna hear it. This is meant to be my night and you're not gonna make it up to me by bringing him up. And don't be rude. Say hi to Cora."

Shiv rolled her eyes, pouting. "Hi Cora."

"Hey," Kendall said. He fiddled with the brim of his cap as he gave her a tight smile. She returned it, folding her arms across her chest.

Roman remained silent, as though he hadn't heard the last minute of conversation. Cora braced herself for a comment from Connor, but he had become distracted by a wave from Willa's mother. Quickly he excused himself, leaving to speak with her and with that Cora had been abandoned.

She shifted uncomfortably in the silence he left.

Quickly Shiv turned to her brothers, a frown creasing her forehead. "So are we ... You guys just wanna take this back to mine, or?"

"Maybe it's best." Kendall nodded. "Not really a discussion for present company."

"You guys really wanna entertain this, huh?" Roman said with a snort, shaking his head. "Fucking ... No. I'm not doing this Sandi-Stewy bullshit dance, alright? The only reason they wanna play ball i-"

Beneath the table, Shiv stamped down on his foot. Roman hissed, recoiling away from her. She shook her head with a sharp swipe.

"Rome, shut up."

"You know I'm sitting here, right? I can hear you." Cora sighed. "I also know what you're talking about, so there's no point dancing around it."

"That's why Matsson gave me a call?" Kendall asked, now turning to her. He cocked an eyebrow, dark eyes shining with suspicion. "Insider source tip him off?"

She shrugged in response, squaring her shoulders. She'd opened her mouth, no use in trying to shirk the spotlight now. "Next time tell Stewy to not telegraph so hard. He didn't need me to figure there was talk."

"All the more reason to leave," Shiv interjected. "It's in our best interest. You understand, right Cora?"

Yes, she understood. She understood that yesterday was not an anomaly, that perhaps it was only the beginning. Maybe it had been naïve of her to believe that they would go down without a fight.

Roman was glancing over his shoulder towards Connor. With the lull in the conversation, he rolled his jaw, humming beneath his breath.

"As much as I don't want to pal around with the Geneva Convention, he is looking a little rough, Shiv," he sighed. "I'd feel bad just showing up to go."

Cora cleared her throat. "Um, the Geneva Convention is Swiss. And it's not an actual convention."

"The Geneva Convention is Swiss." Roman repeated back, his voice several octaves higher. Their eyes finally locked across the table. "You an expert in geography now?"

"Mmhmm," Cora replied. "Been all over the globe."

"Is that what Matsson calls his-"

Connor appeared behind Roman before he could finish, gripping his brother's shoulders and beginning to massage them. In response, Roman attempted to pull away but found himself held in place.

"Looks like Willa's off somewhere on the Lower East. No one ask, I'm trying to get my mind off it. So, what're we getting up to, gang? What's the sitch?"

"It's your night man. Let's take you out on the town. Anywhere you wanna go, just name it." Roman replied in a strained voice.

"Right! Yes! I want to get down in the dirt of the everyman. Somewhere salt of the earth. I need to be amongst the constituency. Rub shoulders with a factory worker. Sing some karaoke."

"Not karaoke, Con," Shiv groaned. "Anywhere else? A massage parlour maybe?"

"That's bad form, Shiv. In more ways than one."

Surprisingly they found a karoke bar not too far from the restaurant, though Cora suspected that Connor had scoped it out beforehand. In the past, Cora might have trailed behind the siblings to lick her wounds in private, but she found her steps falling in line with Roman's. He was back to ignoring her, his eyes trained straight ahead. Cora knew he could only keep things up for so long.

The conversation had not disheartened her. Quite the opposite. Cora knew what it was like to be in Roman's bad books, and it certainly didn't feel like this. He was upset with her, but the door was not closed. Maybe because she'd stuck her foot in it, but still. Cora would ply it open, inch by inch.

Roman opened the entrance to the bar and allowed his siblings to pass by them. Cora stood to the side. As Connor ducked past, he shot her a wink. At least someone was in her corner. Without meeting her eye, Roman swiped his hand towards the opening. Cora shook her head.

"I mean, fine, have it your way. Goodnight!" Roman started, swinging his body around dramatically to enter. Cora darted in the sliver of space between Roman and frame. He froze in place.

"I'd like to have a conversation," Cora murmured. He looked past her shoulder but his brow tensed. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of him. It would not take even a half-step to close the gap. "Now seems like a good time."

"I'm comforting my brother. He's upset. He's been abandoned by someone when he needs her the most." Roman replied sharply. "I think I could give him a little insight. Y'know, on dealing with devastation."

"I'm sorry I left," her voice dropped low as a purr. Solemnity tugged her features downwards. "I never should have."

Roman remained silent and frozen. She watched his eyes flicker back and forth, unfocused, like he'd fallen into the early stages of sleep. Cora wondered if he was running the night back in his mind.

Whatever his thoughts, he snapped back quickly and with a start. When he faced her, a steely veneer had fallen over him. With it, the colour had sapped from his face. A smile crept on his lips, not unlike a mannequin, peeling back against his cheeks unnaturally. Only his eyes remained in their familiarity. Cora pursed her lips.

"Cool." Roman said. "Apology accepted. Thanks for the talk, champ, really appreciated it."

He slapped her brusquely on the shoulder and pushed past her. The closing door collided with the place he had hit. That would leave a bruise. She took in a deep breath, sucking in her cheeks. No one had ever said this was going to be easy.

Cora joined them by the bar, fiddling with her hands as she stared at the back of Roman's head. She could feel Shiv's gaze on her, watching with suspicion as Cora stepped up to the counter and ordered a soda. They took a seat at one of the nearby tables, sticky with the remnants of customers past. Cora found herself next to Connor again, across from Kendall. Shiv flanked Roman's side as he sat at the head of the table.

There was some back and forth between the four, a conversation that Cora felt uncomfortable intruding on for more reasons than one. She was relieved though when Kendall, of all people, allowed her into the fold. Unfortunately what he ended up coming out with was, perhaps, the worst thing he possibly could have said.

"So that call with Matsson before we showed up." Kendall said, clearing his throat. "Does he always, uh, video call ... Without a shirt on?"

There was a scrape of wood against the concrete floor. Roman had pushed back from his chair and was stalking towards the bathroom, his shoulders thrown back. It looked like he was attempting to intimidate anyone in his path. Watching him disappear around the corner, Cora turned back to Kendall.

"Sometimes," Cora admitted. "Um ... So ... Was he just asking about the deal or ..."

"Well he's heard the Stewy stuff, yeah, wasn't too happy about that." Kendall scratched behind his ear. "He also said to tell you to call him."

Cora felt her heart sink. Right. So he knew she was with them. Great.

"Sorry. Just kind of slipped out," Kendall said. Clearly her face had betrayed her frustration. Cora shook her head.

"It's fine." She replied as she massaged her temple. Kendall glanced over his shoulder momentarily, leaning across the table.

"What's the deal with that, by the way?" He asked under his breath. Beside him, Shiv cleared her throat.

"We can all hear you."

"Well I'm not hiding the conversation from you, am I?" Kendall retorted, shaking his head before turning back to Cora. "Uh, because you know, makes it a bit awkward if you're ..."

"If I'm what?" Cora asked, cocking her head to the side. "Feeding him information? Fucking him? Planning a Tuscan wedding?"

"I'm sensing some hostility." Kendall recoiled and straightened upwards. He cleared his throat. "I don't think you're really in a place to take up that tone."

"Hmm, I guess I question the fact you're all treating me like a leper," Cora replied. "Even with all things considered, none of you were waiting at the hospital when I woke up from the car crash that, well, probably could've ended my life."

At this, both Kendall and Shiv exchanged a glance. It was Connor though who spoke first, clearing his throat.

"Yeah, no, it was ... It was probably not the best timing for any of it." He gave her a firm thump on the back, hitting the exact spot as to almost knock the wind from her. She let out a puff of air, coughing as Connor continued. "Caroline did kind of ban from showing up. Said she didn't want you to be 'overwhelmed'. But I probably should've checked in when Willa mentioned the memoir."

"Memoir?!" Kendall looked like he was about to break into a sweat. Shiv's eyes grew sharp as a hawk's, tilting her head to the side. Oh, she hadn't intended them to find out this way.

"I'm not ... I just wrote something." She spluttered, her chest tight. "I-It's not being published or whatever, you can relax."

"What's the memoir about?" He had taken on a look of suspicion, as though he assumed the whole thing was somehow about him.

"Kendall, it's in the name."

"Right, but ... Well, c'mon Cora, what else would you write about?" He gestured around the table. "I mean ... You've known us for most of your life."

As her eyes swept both Kendall and Shiv, the ridge of her brow grew slack. Cora found herself at a loss as to how best to reply, her mouth hanging open in a soft 'o'. She realised, with a heavy heart, that she had divulged so little of her life that it had given them the impression that all she could say of herself must revolve solely around them.

Connor, once more, came to the rescue.

"Well now, that's a little harsh Ken. I've read the whole thing and there's a lot more than you three. I mean, there's a whole section about me for one." He puffed out his chest in pride before remembering himself. "Sure, you're in it, but there's a lot more. Maybe I could email it to them?"

Cora chewed her bottom lip. Slowly she nodded. Across the table, Shiv's eyebrows rose. It was she, more than anyone else, who noted the significance of this allowance.

"Sure. Have at it." Cora said with a sigh that signalled resignation. "Like I said, it's not getting published."

Better they read it now before it became fully realised on the stage. Willa had emailed her a draft of the script the other night that she was yet to open. All she knew so far were the bare bones of the three acts and the obligatory name changes. Still, it didn't take a genius to know where the source material had been derived. The Royce family? Vivienne, Kennedy and Rowan? To call it thinly veiled would be facetious.

Connor had already whipped out his phone.

"Do I CC Roman?"

"CC me in what?" Roman had reappeared, cracking his knuckles. Connor ignored him, awaiting an answer.

"I think I should probably be the one to introduce it," mumbled Cora.

"Ooh, a secret? But you already have so many of those. Anyway, just had a conversation with a guy in the bathroom." He said as he resumed his seat. He seemed to have switched tack and had gone from refusing her eye contact to staring without blinking. "Nice guy. Offered me a reasonable price on an 8 ball. You down to clown?"

"I'm sober, actually." Cora said, not without a hint of pride. She pointed towards her Diet Coke. "See?"

"Nice line." Roman replied curtly. "Too bad we've already heard that song and dance. Let's just skip to the part where you're all sweaty and throwing up."

"So you can hold my hair back?"

Roman scowled, rolling his eyes. He was being so irritating and she had missed it more than she could have ever fathomed.

Shiv contorted her lips, glancing from Roman to Cora. Finally she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"She's actually telling the truth, Rome." Cora could tell Shiv resented the fact she was throwing her a bone after the previous day. She was thankful that Shiv had at least swallowed her pride for now. "Tom said she hasn't had a drop since being back in New York."

"Ooh, Tom? Timothy Wambsgans? Tomulus? Been staying with him, haven't you Cora? I forgot that little nugget of information." Roman smirked, turning to her. "One has to ask, who haven't you fucked in the past six months?"

"You," Cora retorted with a scoff. "Not that that's much of a difference."

"Wow, it's all coming out now, isn't it." Connor said, taking a drink of his beer.

"You fucked Tom?!" Shiv yelped.

"No, I jus- It was for dramatic effect, Shiv. Please."

"How about some karaoke? Break up the mood? Stretch out the ol' vocal cords?" Connor pushed away from the table. It was clear he wasn't about to take no for an answer. "Get off your phone, Ken, it's rude to interrupt a pity party."

As Connor went to the bar to ask for a backroom and the siblings rose around her, Cora dug a hand into her pocket to pull out her phone. She was greeted with a litany of notifications - missed calls, texts and an Instagram message from Greg.

She opened Instagram first and was greeted with a video of Kerry stumbling through a news segment before the camera flipped to reveal a close-up view up Greg's flared nostrils as he laughed. Cora screwed up her face but hearted the message before checking the others. A picture from Frank of a blurry Olenska on the kitchen counter top. Tom checking in that she hadn't been thrown in the Hudson. The missed calls, of which there were four, all from Matsson.

"I just have to step outside." She mumbled, running her tongue against her teeth. In her wake, she heard Roman making several exaggerated kissing noises but commented no further.

Outside, Cora pressed her back against the brick wall out the bar's exterior. Matsson picked up on the first ring.

"Luka-" she began, but he cut across her.

"I was thinking," he began, "you should come back tomorrow."

"What?" Cora muttered. She pressed her lips flushed against one another, the blood rushing to her face. "Why?"

"I'm gonna get the old man over here. You can fly back with him." Though his tone remained as flat as always, Cora detected a hint of tension. She bowed her head. "You've been gone too long."

"Is this because I'm with them? Because it's for the rehearsal dinner, Lukas. The wedding's tomorrow. I-I can't just not go, these are my friends."

"Eh."

"Eh?"

"Eh. Hardly a funeral. Make them livestream it. Come home."

Cora flinched. She didn't like this side of him, the lack of yield. There was no back and forth with Matsson, only the pointless beating against a brick wall.

"But I've bought a dress," she found herself spluttering lamely. "I'm getting my hair done. I have plans."

"Bring the dress here," he replied. "You'll have someone to take it off you."

"Right," Cora replied stiffly. "Because that's my focus."

"It should be. You sound tense."

"I am tense," she massaged her temple. "You're demanding I skip a wedding. I'm annoyed."

"Such an effective communicator. Shrink's work, huh?"

"Yeah. They're good at teaching boundaries. I'm going tomorrow. That's final."

Wanting no more opportunities to cave, she abruptly hung up. Cora felt a rush channelling through her core. It felt very good to put her foot down. It also, perhaps coincidentally, made her want to throw up. Before he could call again, she switched her phone to do not disturb and headed back inside.

After a brief inquiry, one of the staff led her to the room Connor had wrangled.

She walked into a sombre rendition of a Leonard Cohen song from Connor while the siblings shifted uncomfortably on the semi-circle of couch behind him. It was only Roman who looked up to acknowledge her, as both Kendall and Shiv were on their phones. Cora seated herself in the long stretch between them both as the song drew to a close.

Connor turned, his brows high on his face as he swept them all with an expectant stare.

"Well? Who's next?" He prompted.

Kendall shifted his body to the side, glancing out from under his cap. He gave a curt shake of his head. Roman whistled under his breath.

"Any chance they have Cee Lo Green's Fuck You?" He asked.

"Only oldies." Connor replied, turning to Shiv. She waved a hand without raising her head.

"I'm good, Con."

Cora flushed, feeling a pang of sympathy. It only lasted the amount of time it took for Connor to swing his head in her direction.

"Oh, Con, I mean I'm actually really good and stuff. Like I don't think tha-"

Cora's words ground to a halt. His face had fallen, the corners of his mouth drooping. She had used up all of her confidence on the call to Matsson and she felt the pull to appease Connor's obvious show of sadness. Whatever. Fuck it, right? What was the worst that could happen?

The worst was that Connor was right. All of the songs available in the machine were ancient, some of them even pre-dating Reagan's birth year. Maybe if Frank had been around, he could have taken the fall on a couple of these. After a few minutes, Cora finally found something she was familiar with. The problem was that it wasn't just any old song.

Billy Joel's She's Always a Woman. One of Reagan's favourites. Not just that, it was the piano melody she had played Roman all those months ago. She swallowed against a parched throat, wondering if he would know it from the instrumental. There was no other option though, no Here Comes the Sun to save her from this fate. Apparently whoever owned the bar was not a fan of the Beatles.

Cora cleared her throat. She hadn't sung in years. As a child, she had taken lessons in conjunction with piano. Back then her voice had been sweet and delicate. Though it had been a long time, it wasn't purely muscle memory that Cora went off of. Like anyone, she was partial to a belt in the shower. Adele songs always felt achievable in bathroom acoustics.

Age had given her tone a husky quality. On softer lines, she held the refrain of her youth, but on elongated lines, Cora elicited the feminine growl of a country singer. At times, as her voice stretched, the cover became tender and gauzy. Her emotion leaked through. The effect was authentic, rough in parts from amateurish breath control, but overall surprisingly pleasant.

Her eyes traced each subtitle projected on the screen, growing misty with the pull of memory. It was hard not to apply the lyrics not just to herself, but to Reagan. Perhaps this was why her mother had been so drawn to the song. She wondered if Frank knew of this inclination. Maybe she would bring it up, next time she saw him, to see if he too could see the similarities.

When the instrumental finally drew to a close and Cora turned around, she struggled to know where best to lay her gaze. Meeting Roman's eye threatened tears after how fragile the song had made her and Kendall was simply not an option. She had a faint fear that if she looked in Connor's direction that he might insist she sing another, as she had spied his proud grin from the corner of her eye.

So she set on Shiv, realising with a jolt that there was a glassiness to her yes and that her cheeks were so flushed that the red cut through the pink and purple glow from the lights above. Cora clutched the microphone in both hands as she lowered it to her chest.

Had she just accidentally serenaded Shiv?

There was no time to consider this though, because the door to the room had been thrown open. Through it trudged Logan, followed by Kerry. Cora almost dropped the microphone in shock. As though the lights had been cut, a darkness descended upon the room.

As he seated himself, Cora remained frozen in place. Somehow she drifted to one of the fabric stools beside Kerry, where she rolled the metal in her hands back and forth. Briefly her eyes found Roman's. Her chest panged. She wished she had had the mind to sit with the siblings. With the battle lines drawn, it was impossible to ignore which side of the coin she faced.

"Maybe nix Kerry, dad?" Roman said, not attempting to hide the distaste in his voice.

Wordlessly and without turning, Logan flicked his hand in gesture towards Cora and nothing more was said on the matter.

There was some preamble as each went back and forth with their father, and Cora settled into an uneasy state as she watched from the sidelines. She crossed and uncrossed her leg repeatedly above the other, so many times that after a point, Kerry reached over and placed a soft but firm hand on her knee. Cora mumbled an apology. She couldn't help it. The air was fraught with tension, so stifling that it surprised her she was able to breath.

Finally her ears perked as they moved to a territory she could hope to interject upon.

"Matsson won't go there." Logan said, as sure as if he had spoken to the man himself. Cora knew this was to not be the case, but his tone rattled her. She sensed something in it. A trap card.

Logan went on.

"I do ATN, you do Pierce. It'll be a fresh start for all of us. All you have to do is vote yes."

"You could all hit the reset button." Kerry said, in a tone that bordered both pragmatism and urgency. "On everything. On your family dynamic."

It clicked for Cora then in a way that would not have been possible for her before. The sale, as fraught as it was, was a bid to cut clean the rotten core at the centre of their empire. A hollowing out of a crown to render it worthless. With nothing to compete for, what would they be? His children. Three siblings. A family. Not vying for a poisoned chalice of ambition and affection but a unit, no matter how imperfect.

It hit her with such startling clarity, the thought that she was not simply in pursuit of exorcising herself from her obligation to Matsson nor aiding Tom but trying to cut the chain. Herself freed, perhaps she had seen the opportunity to do the very same for them. For Roman.

He could not be hers beneath the omnipresent loom of Waystar and the thick shadow it cast.

"And I'm sorry." Logan said, his words slicing through her thoughts. She blinked rapidly, from the simple shock of hell freezing over before her very eyes.

"Sorry?" Shiv snorted. "Ok? Are we meant to be impressed? Uh huh, right, and you know usually sorry comes with a little more than the word, dad. Care to elaborate?"

"Yeah, are we talking ... Sorry for ignoring Connor his whole life? Or hitting Rome when we was a kid?"

Roman flinched.

"Kendall." Cora said sharply. "Please."

"Or," Kendall continued, "what about blackmailing Cora? Or blackmailing me? That's a little bit fucked up, isn't it? Dangling a murder above our heads."

"Oh please. Don't flatter yourselves. It was hardly murder. Wrong place, wrong time and not much sense to shake a stick at," Logan replied sharply.

"Can we just quit the kangaroo court?" Connor interjected.

"What about advising Tom on my divorce?" Shiv's eyes were not on her father as she spoke. She had found Cora across the room. The glance was fleeting but it chilled her all the same. "It was right out of your playbook."

"Look, the bottom line is, if we ask for more money then Matsson walks," Logan said. "We know that."

"We don't know that." Shiv replied sharply, her voice rising several octaves. "You know you can't ... You can't just make shit up just because it suits you."

Cora could no longer hold her tongue.

"No but he will Shiv. He absolutely will. There's exactly one way this all goes and it's his way. Please, you have to vote yes on this. You can-"

"Cora, respectfully, this is family business," muttered Kendall.

"But I'm telling you the truth." Cora winced at the sound of her own desperation. She was doing the right thing. Why wasn't she being rewarded for it? "

"I think it's best you wait outside. Or maybe just left." Kendall said firmly. Beside him, Shiv nodded.

"Fine." Cora replied. "Goodnight everyone, I guess."

With heavy resignation, she departed.

Cora could not say just what she was thinking when she sidled up to the bar. Likely she wasn't thinking much of anything. Her order was white noise projected outward, decipherable only by the man behind the bar. Just as quickly as she blinked, the glass appeared in front of her. A gin and tonic, deciphered by the thin scent and citric tang. Clear as water. She couldn't see her reflection in it. No one would ever know if she just took a sip.

Just as quickly as the thought was there, she pushed it away, along with the glass. It tipped on its side and spilled across the bar. The bartender shot her a look of annoyance but she didn't see it. She pushed past an entering group and out into the night.

Cora gulped in the cold chill as though surfacing from a body of water.

She panted, hands on her knees and bent at an angle. It wasn't until a passer-by placed a hand on her shoulder to ask if she was ok that she straightened upwards. She nodded, unable to enunciate and hoping that her strained smile of thanks was enough. They were gone and she was alone again, turning to press her back against the outer brick of the bar.

The seconds of her brush with disaster spanned long. Cora crawled into the back of her mind to nurse the shock. Her exterior numbed.

She was only brought back by the sound of Logan's voice. Cora jumped, turning to see that he and Kerry had emerged from within. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets. Kerry watched them carefully as he approached.

"I appreciate what you did in there. Sticking your neck out," Logan said.

There was a brief pause, in which only the whistle of the wind could be heard against the low babble from the bar. Finally Cora nodded. She didn't know what to say. After all, she hadn't done it for him.

He cleared his throat. "If I were a wise man, I would advise you to come with us and wait in the lobby. You might find that something washes up there."

Cora considered his words. Hope bloomed in her chest. Was it foolish to think that that was what he was hinting at?

It was worth the chance. She nodded, remaining mum as she followed the pair to the company car. Dark, familiar and warm, they rode in silence. Cora knew this could easily be some sick hand that she was playing into, but she cared little. It was a glimmer all the same, and she had already resolved to walk towards the light.

Cora waited in the lobby, and just as Logan promised, Roman appeared.

"Evening Judas." He said in a light voice as he passed through the entrance.

"Evening," she replied, falling in line with him as he continued without pause to the elevator. He jammed his finger against the button. "I could say the same thing to you. Do the others know about the late night visit?"

He didn't reply. Cora huffed a sigh.

"I'm here to help, by the way. I want the sale to go through just as much as you do. Y'know, evidently."

"Uh huh, yeah. Well glad you've taken a break from busy schedule of sucking off Matsson to help. Maybe you can let me know how his dick tastes."

"Nice."

"So which Cora is this?" He continued. "The one who spent years longingly staring at me as if I wouldn't notice or the one who snorted coke off Kendall's chest hair? Did you do lines pre- or post-coital? Let's just unpack the whole thing, how about you give me a play by play?"

"Not sure, maybe I can answer that if you tell me whether you've figured out if you're ignoring me." Cora produced an emphasized wheezy pant, as though she'd run a marathon. The corner of Roman's lips twitched.

"Geez, you're obsessed with me. Those texts last night. Talk about desperate. I'd like to talk if that's ok." His voice distorted to the tone he used to imitate her. Cora rolled her eyes.

"God, you're so annoying." Cora muttered without thinking.

Roman snorted, nodding his head.

"Finally she gets it!"

"I've always gotten it," she replied. "I chose to overlook. You're welcome."

"Oh yeah, same. Been ignoring your nose for years."

Her hand flew to her face. She scowled, blushing, beneath the temporary mask.

"Fucking really?"

The metal doors of the elevator slid open and Roman entered. After a pause, Cora quickly followed after him. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, soothing it as though she'd been struck. When she turned to him, he was smirking.

"What?" She asked.

"Oh nothing." Roman replied, eyes cast to the ceiling. "Just thinking about the members of my family you haven't run through. If you head out now, you might be able to catch Con before he walks down the aisle."

"Funny. At least I have sex."

She hadn't just hit a nerve, she'd slice right through it. Roman's expression tightened, a line forming between his brows. It was a split second, anger streaking his façade, there and gone like the body of an express train.

"Dunno what you're on about. Yeah, no, I've gotten ... Yeah so much. So much. Been fucking relentlessly. My number? Gargantuan. Obscene. Probably contracted seven different strains of syphilis but hey, that's just the game." He paused to clear his throat, sneaking a glance at her. "Obviously not more than you though. Whore."

She let out a bark of laughter.

"What?" Roman prompted, clearly unnerved.

"Oh, nothing." She shrugged. "Nothing at all."

"No, really, what? What's so funny?"

Cora shrugged. "That was kind of cute, that's all."

"Cute?! Oh, yeah. Cute. Well it takes one to know one, right? Of course you'd think that. Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cora."

The elevator dinged but neither made a move to leave. Outside, Logan's penthouse was dim with not a soul in sight. A curious expression came over his face. He reached out to stop the doors as they began to slide closed, stepping into the open space. He looked over his shoulder, taking her in. The cogs of his mind whirring. Cora felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

It wasn't until they had reached the stretch of hallway that he spoke again.

"Can I ask something?"

"I want to say no ..." Cora muttered, trailing off.

"Do you think there's any use dwelling on the past?"

He had ground to a halt. Cora slowed her step, stopping a few paces in front of him. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. What was that supposed to mean? The words held a sickening quality and yet she couldn't quite put a finger on why. It was not simply the way he said them but their context, which remained missing for now but doubtlessly held some kind of weight.

Cora swallowed. "I don't know what you're asking."

"Well, you know you did the wrong thing with me, right?" He continued. "And you should have stayed. I bet you think about it a lot. I'm a ghost in your head. Almost like ... Whenever you try to turn off your brain, I'm just there. And it probably ... Drives you insane, right? Would you say that's all true?"

As he spoke, it dawned on her where he was pulling the words from. Cora felt her chest clench, her temple throbbing sharply. It was like she had taken in too much oxygen and now all that air was attempting to drag her upwards. That would have been a mercy, to just float away, but gravity kept her firm to the ground.

Silence stretched like a rubber band. Like with anything pulled so taut, Cora tensed for the snap.

"You listened to my therapy sessions."

Even as she spoke the words, she didn't want to believe them. That was so Machiavellian, even for him. It was a leaf right out of Logan's playbook. Roman didn't reply, but he didn't need to. The truth was there. Yes, he had. Of course he had.

Cora's anger flared like a whip. For second, it was as though she were possessed but that would have been too easy. No, this was all her. Her fury, her hurt. Cora was pissed. So pissed that she turned then and shoved him away from her.

He staggered just short of the wall, holding his balance. His jaw hung open. Before she could react, he had shoved her back.

"What the fuck Roman?" Cora snapped, recovering from her stumble.

"What do you mean what the fuck?" Roman snarled. "Oh, so it's ok when you do it?"

"We're just going to ignore that little nugget of information? How fucking dare you."

"Yeah, yeah I'm the asshole. Real rich coming from you, Cordelia. Want a refresher on how we got here?"

They both fell silent, staring each other down. Seconds crawled by. Cora's heart hammered in her chest. With her eyes locked with his, she felt a blow to her gut. It winded her. She needed air. She need to breath. She needed ...

Cora surged forwards, pinning him to the wall, her hand gripping the collar of his shirt.

She was inches in front of him, her chest almost pressed against his. She hovered tentative in the aftershocks of her own movements, her eyes searching for a reflection of what was unfurling inside of her. Roman's brows were knitted together, the sound of his breathing fast yet even. Just perceptible, she saw him nod. Cora closed the gap.

She kissed him hungrily, as though it were the first time and the last time. Her desperation was palpable but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered but him and the fact he was kissing her back.

A gasp left her as he rolled her to the side, her back to the wall now. His hand buried in her hair, tugging firmly. Cora moaned. It sounded pathetic and served only for him to pull harder. The heat of his body pressed against her as she squirmed beneath him. One of his legs pressed between her own, driving them open. Her mind reeled. She had never wanted someone so badly. No, it wasn't want. She needed him.

God, it had always been him. It had always, always been him.

"Uh ..."

The sound of Tom's voice broke the spell. With one last light shove, Roman pulled away from her and wiped his mouth with her back of his hand. He didn't look in her direction as he stalked off past Tom, who was standing awkwardly at the end of the hallway.

Cora cleared her throat, for now ignoring Tom.

"We're even now," she called after him. "Properly even."

Roman lifted his arm without turning and gave her a thumbs up. Quickly it morphed into the middle finger. Well, at least that was settled.

With a sigh, Cora turned towards Tom. His eyes followed Roman, pulling away only when the other man disappeared from where Tom had emerged. The door shut firmly behind him. And just like that, the hallway was thrown into stillness.

Cora slowly peeled herself from the wall, smoothing her shirt. Tom met her half way, his concern evident. She wondered just how much he had seen, or indeed heard.

"I, uh, I did ... I overheard a little of that, yes." Tom muttered, scratching his head. "Are you ... You're alright?"

She had begun to grin like an idiot. Adrenaline coursed through her, a hit so potent it rivalled coke. No, this was better, so much better. With a shiver, she nodded.

"I'm great, Tom. The best I've ever been." Cora said with a shaky sigh. "But I think I need my beauty sleep for the wedding."