What’s Left Unsaid
Author's note: I'm soooo in the mood for drama lately 😈 [Leading characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios and original characters are creations of the author]
Book: Desire & Decorum (modern day AU)
Characters: MC (Daphne), Ernest Sinclaire, Briar Daly, Harry Foredale, Dominique Foredale, F!OC (Alisha)
Pairings: Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Daphne), Prince Hamid x MC (Daphne)
Rating: T
Word count: 3507
Summary: Hours before travelling to spend a week with Hamid, Daphne receives an odd invitation from Ernest. Yet, neither of them is ready to handle the inevitable conversation.
Based on the music prompt: How Do We Make It?
"All set?" Briar asked before she took a malteser to her mouth.
"Yep. Everything is packed," the lady answered, closing her toiletry bag and putting it over her suitcase.
Leaning back on the plush couch, Briar ate more of the round biscuits coated with chocolate and frowned at her friend's luggage. "I understand you want to spend as much time as you can with Hamid. Believe me, I totally get it and support it. But why do you have to leave so soon?"
"You make it sound like we won't be living together for the most part of the next three and a half years."
"But you're leaving me again during this sensitive period I'm going through," Briar whined.
"It's just a week. You can survive without me for the time being."
"What if I need help? I can't call you anytime I want. I don't want to cockblock you and Hamid now that I know you’ll be on a dry spell until the end of March."
“It’ll be a little longer than that. Ramadan starts a few days before he returns to Cornell and he’ll have to abstain from anything that incites impure thoughts, but that’s beside the point. Just call Annabelle."
"Really? Ooof…” Briar made a face.
“Briar!” The lady glared at her friend.
“Sorry…” Briar smiled sheepishly. “But back to my problem, I don’t know. Annabelle's idea of tough love may be a little too tough for me." Briar's nose wrinkled in annoyance.
"Maybe it's just what you need." Daphne gave her friends a knowing look, who replied with a scowl. "You could also become friends with Alisha. She's really sweet."
"We barely know each other. I can't exactly call her in the middle of the night and ask her to help me not to send dirty texts to Ed."
"Well, I don't think you should call his step sister to talk about that, but it never stopped you before," Daphne joked.
"Hey!" Briar grabbed a pillow and threw it at the lady, making her laugh.
The two of them continued to tease each other when the viscountess's mobile got a notification.
Briar smiled slyly as her friend reached for the cellphone. "Aw, you smitten kitten…"
"Shut up…" Daphne scoffed as she tapped the screen when she read the message.
"Gee, did somebody die?"
Daphne eyed her friend confused. "Huh?"
"Your face doesn't scream boyfriend-girlfriend cute texts. It looks more like you just got 'we need to talk' text."
"Well, that's exactly what it is. Except it was Ernest." Daphne explained, placing the mobile in the pocket of her trousers.
"Oh…” Briar frowned. “Is his mother okay?"
"I don't know. He just said he wants to meet me tonight to talk."
"Sounds serious."
"It feels like it is..."
"Hey, maybe you two could meet at mum's? It's on the way to the train station and you can have tea and sweets to make the conversation less intense."
Daphne sat on her bed and considered the suggestion. "That's not a bad idea. I'll text him."
"Great. And when you're there, can you do me a favour?"
"Sure. What is it?"
"Speak louder. I want to hear the details when mum makes me wash the dishes in the kitchen." Briar's lips curled up.
Daphne narrowed her eyes playfully. But before she could retort, a door knock called their attention.
"Come in," Daphne said. A combination of surprise and nervousness took over her when the door opened. "Lady grandmother!"
"Hello, Daphne," Dominique said as she strolled in. "Briar, can you give me a moment with my granddaughter?"
"Certainly, ma'am," Briar bowed politely and left the room.
The dowager countess took a seat on the plush chair near the bed and looked at her granddaughter. "I heard you're travelling to Turkiye again."
"Yes. It's my last opportunity to spend time with Hamid before I go back to Cornell."
"Isn't he returning next month?"
"He can't travel by plane for the next three months without the risk of suffering an embolism."
"I see." Dominique nodded. "Are you returning to America from there?"
"No. I'll come back for three days to pack everything and take Drake with me."
"Good. I was hoping you could join me for tea in London with the Queen."
The young lady pressed her lips together and heaved a sigh. “Lady grandmother, please…”
"It's a mere informal gathering with an old friend of your grandmother, Daphne.”
"Who happens to be the Queen of England..."
The flat yet mocking tone in the young lady’s voice didn’t go unnoticed. Yet, the dowager countess chose to not reprimand her granddaughter. "I still believe you made a mistake, but I assure you it's not an audience. She is a wise old friend you could learn a lot from. Spending time with her is a privilege only a few people in the Commonwealth have."
Daphne pondered about it carefully. There wasn't a single time in her life she has ever joined her grandmother on something that didn't have a purpose. However, of all the times they have argued, this was the first one Lady Dominique has ever made the first step. Even if it wasn't an explicit apology, it felt like something similar to it.
"When will it happen?"
"January 10th."
"Okay. I'll see what I can find to dress for the occasion."
"I already made an appointment for you at the boutiques you like."
"Of course you did…"
The two shared rare friendly smiles.
"What time are you leaving?"
"Five thirty. I'm meeting Ernest at six."
"Oh…" Worry clouded Dominique's features. "Is Lydia alright?"
"I've been asking myself the same question."
"I'll make sure to pay her a visit later. But whenever you have time, join me at the lounge. I'd like to see the drawings you've been working on lately. Miss Parsons can join us as well," Dominique said as she stood up.
"I'll text Ann."
"Excellent. I'll see you downstairs."
"Yes, ma'am."
The sound of luggage wheels running on the wooden tiles followed Daphne down the stairs as she descended carrying her suitcase.
"Do you need anything else, ma'am?" Her maid asked.
"No, thank you. You've done enough…" The lady looked around the room, brows knitted together in a frown. "Hey, Carmindy. Do you know if Drake returned from his daily walk?"
"Yep, he has." Harry sauntered over with Lord Vincent, who held the dog's leash. "I hope you've been waiting for us. It'd be very rude of you not to say goodbye to us, sis," he teased.
"I wasn't going to do that. I already talked to Ed and grandmother," she said, swatting her brother’s arm. She then turned to her father and the dog. "Thank you for taking a walk with him. Bye, dad."
"Of course, dear. Have a safe trip." The lord cupped one side of her face and kissed her forehead.
"Thank you." Daphne beamed and crouched down to pet her dog. "Bye, sweetie! Be a good boy to everyone."
The dog replied by licking her hand.
"Are you ready to go?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Daphne replied. After waving to her father, her dog, and the staff nearby, she headed to the door carrying her luggage.
Inside the car, the lady gazed out the window as droplets of rain softly blurred the view. Despite the music playing in the background being one of her brother's favourites, he wasn't singing along or humming the melody as usual. Harry was quiet, serious, eyes focused on the road and the traffic as he drove towards the city.
"Thank you again for taking me. You didn't have to," she said.
"Don't worry about it. It's our driver's week off. Why would I let you waste money taking a taxi when you can buy me cheesecake?" He looked at her from a corner of an eye and smirked.
"Good point." Daphne nodded with a smile, glad to see her younger brother in his laid back demeanour again.
"So… When am I going to meet your new boyfriend?"
"I don't know. I haven't thought about it."
"Ouch…" Harry clutched a hand in his chest, pretending to be wounded.
"Don't be silly…" She scoffed. "I meant to say I haven't talked about it with him because we're taking things slow. It's not like we have everything figured out."
"Excuse me?" He gave his sister a look before turning his attention to the road once again. "You left home in August with all your four years of uni planned. And before that, you had most part of your life sorted out."
"Well, after everything I went through this year, I realised planning too much isn't going to do me any good. I'll just take my time and see how it goes."
"Huh…" Harry glanced at her with a curious look. "When dad and Ed returned from Ithaca after your birthday, they said you changed. But I didn't know what to think."
"Were you worried?"
"Honestly? Who wasn't? The only reason the family council agreed with you moving back to America was knowing that Briar and Annabelle would be with you."
"What?!" Her brows rose. "When did that happen?"
"Right after you said you'd choose Cornell over Sorbonne and Cambridge. Anyway, now I understand why they said you're changing. You're healing. And you're slowly finding your way to be your best self. That's brilliant, sis."
"Thank you." Her eyebrows rose as amusement played on her lips. "Look at you so perceptive and wise."
"It's a blessing and a curse."
The two of them chuckled.
But as their laughter died down, Daphne cast her glance to the window again. "I just wish I didn't have scars..."
"All great fighters have scars, Daph. I know whatever you have to face in the future, you'll keep your head high and do your best."
"Are you trying to psych me up to the meeting I have with Ernest, Harry?"
"No…"
She arched an eyebrow.
"Maybe…"
The lady shook her head with a smile.
"I know you're dating Hamid and I can see you care about him, but the whole situation with Ernest broke you. I don’t want to see you going through anything like that again."
"It's sweet of you to worry about me because I've been talking to him again, but I'll be fine. This is no big deal. He probably needs advice with something related to Mrs. Sinclaire's treatment."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. If he says anything I can't handle, don’t worry. I'll strangle him myself," she joked, making her brother laugh just a few blocks away from the bakery.
Once Daphne greeted the staff of Mrs Daly's bakery, she took a seat on one of the stools by the counter, where her childhood friend and the newest cook of the shop stood by.
"So you're meeting your ex-fiancé a few hours before you take a train to spend a week with your new boyfriend," Alisha concluded, but it was clear she was still trying to absorb the information.
"Yes," Daphne affirmed.
"And your new boyfriend is okay with it?"
"So weird, right?" Briar mumbled.
Daphne narrowed her eyes at her friend then turned to the cook. "Hamid knows I wouldn't do this if I didn't think it's important to support Ernest right now."
"You're lucky. Not all men are so understanding. By the way, that's one of the few contexts I'll ever start a sentence with 'not all men'," Alisha stated.
The three of them giggled.
"But seriously, are you okay with it?" The cook asked.
"Yes, I'm fine. But thank you for asking."
"We can bring you an extra dessert and a tea for you afterwards if you need comfort. On the house." Briar grabbed her friend's hand.
"I'm fine." Daphne insisted. "This is not the first time I’ll talk to him after we broke up."
Just then, the bell chimed as the front door opened. Placing his coat on the rack nearby, Ernest Sinclaire walked into the shop, nodded politely to the staff, chose a table, and waited for Daphne to follow.
"Call us if you need anything." Alisha gave her a sympathetic smile.
"Thank you." Daphne smiled.
"And if he needs a beating, I'm calling Ann," Briar warned.
Daphne pursed her lips at her friend. "I'm going to join Ernest at the table. Excuse me," she said standing up and walking towards the corner table, where her ex sat looking at the rain quietly drumming on the glass windows. "Good evening."
"Good evening," he replied calmly. "Did I make you wait for too long?"
"Not at all. I was just chatting with Briar and Alisha, the new cook here," Daphne explained as she sat down. "How are you and Mrs. Sinclaire?"
"We're fine. Thank you for asking."
Her eyebrows went up in surprise. "Really?"
A corner of his mouth lifted upwards discreetly. "Were you not expecting me to say that?"
"Um… No?" Her nose wrinkled. "I'm sorry. It's hard to figure out the tone of a sentence through texts. I didn't know what to expect."
"It's all right, Daphne. This is precisely why I don't like texting."
"You could add a few 'lols', 'jk' and emojis here and there…" She hinted.
"I'm not even going to entertain that idea."
As a giggle escaped Daphne's lips, Briar approached the table.
"Good evening! I'll be your waiter tonight. May I take your order?"
Daphne arched an eyebrow. "Oh, are you now?"
"Yes," Briar plastered a fake grin that purposely faded when she turned to Ernest.
"Miss Daly," he nodded politely and looked at the menu.
"Sinclaire," Briar hissed.
Noticing her friend's deadly stare, Daphne spoke up. "Anyway, I'm in the mood for mille-feuille, chamomile tea, and a box of macarons to go. How about you, Ernest?"
"I see the new cook added some new desserts to the menu. I'll have profiteroles and English tea."
"I'll be right back with your orders."
The two of them thanked Briar, who stepped away, still glaring at Ernest.
"I see she still hates me," he avowed.
"You are in a relationship with our secondary school nemesis."
He shifted in his seat and gazed at the woman before him. "Do you hate me as well?"
"I did." She confessed, staring back at him. "But that's water under the bridge now."
Despite the somewhat awkward start, the conversation flew easily after. Between bites of their desserts, the two kept everything friendly.
"Your French has certainly improved," Ernest praised.
"Thank you. It's nice to get feedback from a real person. I only get feedback from Duolingo, but I think the app is being nice to me on purpose."
"Doesn't Harry help you with that?"
"Sure… Because that's something siblings love to do: help each other."
He chuckled.
"So…" She placed her cup of tea down and looked at him. "You haven't told me why we're meeting here."
"All right." He cleared his throat. “First of all, I want to apologise for that awkward situation at the Christmas feast.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I didn’t say a thing. Couldn’t that be interpreted as if I agreed with what Felicity said?”
“It could have been. But if I know you well, you didn’t say anything because you didn’t even want to be there in the first place. Besides, engaging in any frivolous topics of conversations isn't your cup of tea.”
“You do know me well.” A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “But I want to apologise anyway.”
“Thank you.”
"The other subject I want to talk about is my mother. She made a decision about her treatment."
"Oh?"
"Her doctors said they have great chances to stabilize the tumor and remove it through surgery if she keeps receiving chemotherapy and radiation. She said yes." At last, a broad smile lit up his features.
"Oh my God, that's fantastic news, Ernest!" Daphne beamed.
"I think so too."
"And you're moving back to UK soon, right?"
"Yes, I'll be back next month."
"This is really great, Ernest. I'm happy for both of you."
"Thank you. I knew you would be."
Daphne then glanced at her wristwatch. "Well, this has been such a pleasant evening, but I have a train to catch."
"Of course, I'll get the check."
After a brief moment, Briar returned with their separate bills and two boxes with pastries. "The second one is baklava for Hamid." The young woman gave her friend a knowing look.
"He's going to eat most of my macarons, but whatever. Thanks." Daphne replied and gave her credit card.
Ernest remained in silence for a moment, watching the two friends talk. Once the bill was paid, they stood up, thanked everyone, and headed to the door, where they got their coats, and Daphne's received her luggage that Briar kept in the storage room.
From the back of the counter, Briar and Alisha waved at the viscountess and her former fiancé leaving.
"Well, for two people who had their break up headlining all gossip blogs and tabloids in UK, they seem very friendly," Alisha commented as she arranged a few pastries inside the bakery display.
"Yeah…" Briar narrowed her eyes, not knowing what to make of her friend's behaviour near her ex.
"It's easy to make things look perfect for everyone else when you're just sweeping dirt under the rug instead of actually cleaning the house." Mrs. Daly chimed into the conversation as she passed by the two young women. "That has always been their biggest problem."
As they stepped outside, he gazed at Daphne tapping her screen of her mobile. "If you need a ride, I can take you to the train station."
"No, thank you. I'm calling an Uber."
"It's not that far from here."
"But you'd be driving in the opposite direction. I don't have to go through all that trouble…"
"Daphne," he called, placing a hand on her arm. "It's a fifteen minutes detour I'll gladly make for you. Please."
The lady considered the offer carefully. She wasn't eager to be seen in public with Ernest, especially given how much the tabloids used to follow both of them throughout their relationship. Yet, the paparazzi have stopped following her and the driver she called was over seven kilometers away. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea.
"Fine…" She acquiesced and watched him promptly open the door of his car then put her luggage in the backseat.
The moment Daphne buckled the seat belt, a message pinged on her mobile:
"I heard your boyfriend suffered an accident. Is he all right?"
Daphne's cheeks flushed crimson as her former fiancé's voice pulled her back to reality. "Yes, he's getting better. Thank you for asking."
"Is that why you’re returning so soon?"
"Among other reasons..."
The lady looked ahead, unsure where this conversation was going, but hoping her destination wasn't so far.
"Is it serious?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your new relationship: do you see yourself with him in the future?" He insisted.
"It's too soon to say."
"You've been seen with him since late October."
"I started dating him officially three weeks ago."
"But you were here three weeks ago. Did it start as a long-distance relationship?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"How is that working out for you two?"
"It's too soon to say."
He glanced at her quickly, but didn't say a word. Yet, his expression said more than he wanted her to see.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I didn't say anything," Ernest scoffed.
"Funny... You look like you have a lot to say about that," she replied, trying to suppress her annoyance.
He huffed. Somehow, this odd conversation felt awfully familiar. Ernest jumping to conclusions too quickly, Daphne annoyed with his judgemental demeanour. It was a clear sign that some things would most likely never change between them.
"Why would you care if my relationship is going to last?"
"Because I care about anything related to you!" He snapped as the car abruptly stopped right in front of the train station, pushing both of their bodies forward, only to be held back by the seat belt.
"Oh, sure! You did seem like you cared about me when you began your relationship with a girl that made me and my friends miserable in secondary school three weeks after we broke up."
"It wasn’t like that. I did care! I still do!"
"That was one hell of a way of showing it, Sinclaire!" She bellowed.
Honks startled them, breaking the tension between them. And as words sunk in, the only sentiment they shared at the moment was regret. Unbuckling her seat belt, Daphne reached for the door handle when he spoke up again.
"Did you ever love me?"
A moment of silence settled inside the car. Although she wished she could just leave, she knew this couldn’t be left unsaid. "I thought I did." Her eyes welled up as she mulled over her own words. "Now I don't know..."
Ernest inhaled sharply. Did he expect another answer? Or did he know it all along? "Perhaps it's for the best that we never said those words to each other."
Daphne swallowed hard and nodded. "Thank you for the ride." She uttered then opened the door, picked up the luggage from the backseat, and left without looking back.
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