Brutal Comfort

"I tried. I really did," Blair said between small sobs. "I just can't forget Florence. She loved me more than I can ever imagine."

Heather stood transfixed with shock.

"Thank you for all you did, Heather. I had made up my mind a long time ago. All I needed was a will in place so the money could go to charity. I want you to know I couldn't have asked any more of you. You gave me everything you had. I know you know it too."

"Blair. No!"

"I don't know what you've done, but I know you're a good person. You deserve love, Heather. You deserve it more than the rest of us. Don't deny yourself. Don't punish yourself."

Heather finally found some motion in her limbs and lunged towards the open balcony.

"I have to go now," said Blair evenly. "Flo misses me. Goodbye, Heather."

And all at once Blair was gone. Heather reached the ledge in time to hear the sickening thud of body on metal. Blair had landed atop an innocently parked Lexus, shattering the windscreen and denting the roof. The periodic beeping of the alarms and the flashing lights was punctuated by a shrill cry from a nearby pedestrian.

Heather closed her eyes and blocked out the sight under her. For a moment, she saw Blair's face on the balcony ledge at the fleeting moment before she wasn't there.

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

* *

EPILOGUE

"Have a seat."

Heather tentatively sat down. Tom Markham sat across his desk finishing up an email. She patiently waited for him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't attend the funeral. I was on a two-week meeting with the Chinese government when it happened and didn't find out till I got back."

She mouthed something about it being all right before Tom closed his laptop and looked at her.

"I assume Florence and Blair are buried together in Maple Grove. I'll pay them both my respects privately."

"Thanks," said Heather.

"No need for thanks. I've known Florence Kaufman much longer than you have. In fact, I was the one who made your introduction at that fund-raiser. Terrible thing, what happened to both of them."

Heather nodded. Tom mused against his palm for a moment, lost in thought.

"You didn't tell Blair the truth, did you?"

Her eyes widened slightly before lapsing back.

"No. There wasn't a right time for it."

"One of the perks of knowing Florence longer than you is that I also knew her vices. I know for a fact that she cheated on Blair with multiple women."

Heather steeled herself, waiting for the punchline.

"... including you, Heather. You were one of the other women in her life. I never asked, but I knew from the way you looked at each other."

"Yes."

"And you kept that from Blair all this time."

"What good would it have done for her to know?" she snapped back, temporarily forgetting who she was talking to.

Tom pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair.

"Blair died because she knew Florence loved her boundlessly. She wanted to be reunited with her. Do you think if she knew the truth, she would have still taken her own life? Would she have still been that co-dependant on Florence?"

Heather paused to let the sentence sink in before breaking into a derisive grin.

"Do you know how many times women asked Flo to break up with Blair and move in with them? She always told me that no matter who had her body, Blair would always have her heart. No matter whom she slept with, she loved Blair and only Blair. I was just a passing fancy, but it was Blair she wanted to grow old with. Blair died knowing that Florence loved her above all else. I think that should count for something."

Tom did not have an answer to that. Instead, he strummed his table absently before speaking again.

"Take as much time off as you need. I'll work it out with the senior partners."

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to get back to work as soon as I can. I need to get my mind off of Blair."

"Heather. Time off. Who am I kidding?" he joked. "There's an EPA injunction in Florida I could use you for. Deanna is the paralegal for that case. Maybe you'd like to get up to speed with her."

She got up to leave. Tom spoke up quietly.

"Heather. Listen to me. You went above and beyond to help Blair. Whether it was out of guilt or genuine empathy, I don't know, but you couldn't have done any more. It's not on you. You need to remember that."

She looked back at him, a vacant look on her face.

"I did everything I could and she killed herself anyway. Why would that make me feel better?"

Tom strummed his table top for a few seconds and said, "At least take the rest of the day off. That's an order."

Heather left and messaged Deanna while she walked.

My place. Tonight. Get all the material on the Florida injunction.

You need to work on your pick-up lines.

I got that case. Maybe after we're done with our initial review, we can get some take out.

Korean and self-loathing lesbian for dinner. I like it.

Heather swiped the phone shut and drove to her apartment on the Upper East Side. She wearily made her way to her bedroom and her eye immediately came to rest on a lava lamp. A gift given to her by Florence.

She took out a Marlboro and went out to her balcony. The orange end of the cigarette glowed as she took a long drag. She went to her voicemail log and scrolled past months of calls until she found what she was looking for.

"Hi, baby. I'm almost home. I'll see you sometime this week. I miss you so much, Heather. I can't wait to get together with you again. That last weekend we spent in Whistler blew my mind. I'll get in touch again when I'm stateside."

Heather did not so much as flinch. If she felt anything, her face did not show it. She simply stared out at the distant horizon while letting out a thin stream of smoke from her lips.

* *

"Because sometimes... the truth isn't good enough. Sometimes people deserve more. Sometimes people deserve to have their faith rewarded."

- The Dark Knight