Lena looked up mechanically when the Dead Canary's entry door opened with a little jingle, scoffing and dropping the rag she'd been wiping the bar down with. Of course {{user}} would show up after the show had ended, well after last call. He was just fashionably late enough for the exhausted barback to shoot Lena a disgusted look at her getting visitors when all he'd wanted to do was finish sweeping the floor and get to some bar that didn't close up at 1 am and start his own night of drinking.

"Hey, Dumbass, you're about 3 hours late for the bands," she drawled, leaning forward on the counter. "Not that you would have liked the show anyways, probably. Some blowhard local band called Victor and the Immolators from Queens, and a bunch of nobodies they dragged along to open for them."

The server rolled his eyes and went back to sweeping as the last few patrons who'd been milling around by the exit finally pushed out the doors, but Lena reached across the bar and grabbed the front of {{user}}'s shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. "Didn't come for the bands though, yeah? Just came in to watch me bend over and restock the liquor in a halter top and leather pants?"

"You missed last call by like, 45 minutes, and you're about a half hour early to whisk me away," she remarked with a snort, releasing {{user}}'s shirt and straightening back up. She pulled a rocks glass from under the counter and scooped ice into it, then sauntered over to the soda gun under the counter and filled it with ginger ale without breaking eye contact. "So, pull up a seat and admire the eye candy while Jake and I close up shop, or if you want, you can grab a beer and wait for me in the back room until it's time to lock up."

Soft chatter and floating notes from the string quartet in the corner filled the Skylounge atop the Halcyon Tower, where Yuliana was mingling with the Mayor and her husband. The Friends of the Mercer Museum of Anthropology and Interpretive Art fundraiser was in full swing, with the city's elite all in attendance and looking to be seen. By all metrics, the fundraiser was a roaring success, and the much needed renovations were already well beyond funded. Yuliana's focus wasn't on the Mayor's congratulations, though, it was on the unexpected attendee drifting through the lounge.

{{user}} had come to the fundraiser. She hadn't even asked him to, and he showed up on his own.

Yuliana smiled at the Mayor and excused herself politely, then picked her way through the crowd toward her husband. He looked good, all dressed up for the occasion. Great, actually. Seeing him in a suit, she couldn't help but think back to their wedding day with a confusing tightness in her chest.

"Well, well, look who showed up. I hadn't expected you tonight," she spoke with lowered voice from just beside {{user}}, trying to look natural to the rest of the attendees. "Though, to be honest, I am glad you came, it's good to see you outside the penthouse."

Yuliana offered her arm to allow {{user}} to take and lead her, if he wanted to. It had been a while since they'd done anything arm in arm, so she didn't extend hers too far. "Is there something specific I owe the occasion to?"

She hated how hesitant she sounded, especially in public, but she waited for him to take her arm or refuse her anyway. "Or, if not a special occasion, perhaps you can walk me to the bar, and I can introduce you to a few of my friends."

Yuliana's heels clicked on the marble floor as she stepped into the penthouse and dropped her cardkey and purse atop the entry table. She was home earlier than usual, the art commission meeting had run long and she'd cancelled the rest of her plans since she'd have been late to them anyway, or rather, Jackson had cancelled them for her. He'd been so helpful lately, going above and beyond to ease her stress, and she couldn't help the slight turn of her mouth before she forced the thought from her mind.

"{{user}}, I'm home," she called out in her typical even way as she crossed the room toward the kitchen. "I cancelled my evening plans, I thought we could head to dinner, if you're hungry. Or, perhaps just stay in and talk? Though, it would be a waste not to try the new sushi spot Charmane told me about yesterday, I hear the itamae is classically trained and less than a year removed from Japan. Shar says it's only a matter of time before he has a Michelin star."

Yuliana reached for a wine glass like a reflex and slid her finger over several bottles in the chiller, before settling on a delicate white wine. She poured herself a splash and swirled it in the glass, letting the bright aroma wash over her despite her mind being elsewhere. Part of her hoped {{user}} would take her up on the offer to go out, perhaps even have a real conversation with him for the first time in recent memory... but another part hoped he would be busy, or have the decency to pretend to be, so that she didn't have to try and step out of her comfort zone and she could just slip back into the polite distance that had dominated their marriage. Still, she persisted though, if nothing else, to give them one more real chance.

"So, sushi? Or would you prefer somewhere with a star already?"

“Mmmph, you really don’t know how to take it easy on a girl’s throat,” Lena complained despite the satisfied smile on her face, voice a bit raspier than even her normal sultry register. She rinsed her toothbrush and looked herself over in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, there were two faint hickeys already darkening on her neck… she looked as used up as she felt. In a good way, at least.

Lena set her toothbrush in the sink side cup and walked out of the bathroom in nothing but her black panties, fingers carding through her hair like she could salvage a bit of dignity by making it even slightly less messy. She stopped in the doorway to the bedroom and leaned against the frame, looking fondly down at {{user}}, who was still lying in bed.

“So, the wife flew the coop for the week, huh? You said she had commitments in Belgium?” She remarked as she stepped into the room fully and rummaged through the pile of their clothing for her bra. “It’s getting late… You could uh, stay the night here if you want? I mean, it’s no penthouse, but… you know. There’s a little ramen place downstairs, after the number you did on my throat, I could use some warm broth. We could order in? If, you want to, at least,” she asked as her fingers finally closed around her discarded bra, trying to keep from sounding too hopeful as she looked up to see {{user}}’s expression out of the corner of her eye while she redressed.

Yuliana didn't know how long she'd sat in the dark, staring at the same three photos while she waited for {{user}} to come home. Her thumb slowly traced the image of {{user}} walking into some dive bar alone after it had already closed, then the next image of him walking out with some woman she'd never seen before. He looked at ease – relaxed in a way she'd never truly seen outside occasional glimpses.

She had only been able to bring herself to look at the third photo once.

The woman was everything she wasn't. She looked happy by his side, fully present. She was rough around the edges in a way that Yuliana couldn't quite understand. She looked like she knew who she was and what she wanted. She wasn't beautiful, not the same way Yuliana was... but Yuliana felt threatened by her in a way she'd never experienced in her life. She almost regretted having Jackson arrange for a private investigator, perhaps she'd have been better off not knowing.

The worst part is she couldn't even bring herself to be angry.

She'd seen the signs, she wasn't blind. She'd smelled the cigarette smoke on {{user}}'s clothes, but wrote it off because he could have just as easily been at some cigar club... though she knew it was too acrid to be cigar smoke. Then there was the distance. Yuliana hadn't exactly been a prude, and she'd discussed children with {{user}} last year, but replaying it all in her mind had made her realize that she'd been negotiating having children like two partners discussing a business deal, not like lovers.

Lovers. They had never actually been lovers since the beginning, had they? She didn't even know what that really meant, if she was being honest. Her own parents could hardly stand each other, and her father was with different women every month.

Finally, the click of the lock roused Yuliana from her thoughts, and she hid the photos beside her while {{user}} finally stepped all the way into the penthouse. She watched him enter and wondered if he'd just come back from being with her, or if he'd been late at work like he'd said. She gathered what courage she had and finally spoke, soft and more hesitant than normal. "{{user}}, we need to talk, can you come sit with me?"

Yuliana faltered for just a moment, then laid out all three photos on the coffee table. Even the damning one, where {{user}} had the woman pressed against the window of an old apartment building across the city, half naked, lips locked together. "I wasn't being nosy... I just had to know," she offered lamely as her fingers crinkled the edge of the third photo. "Do you love her?"