June 30th, 1893 — Crouch Home, Swallowbury
Reuben Crouch

The house — her house had grown dusty with misuse in Melody and Nora's extended absence. They returned periodically, of course, for the exchanges with Ben and to check in with Mrs. Hopper, but it'd been a month since Melody last slept in her own bed. She felt too uneasy alone in Irvingly, haunted by both memories and shadows. Living with Diana could never be a permanent solution (her best friend was bound to marry again at some point, as unimaginable as it seemed at present) but for now, while Melody navigated the immediate aftermath of living without her husband, it felt like the safest option.

She nearly told Ben that they ought to let the house go at every exchange, for what was the point in keeping a house that neither of them truly lived in anymore? It would be more economical in the long run, and would likely free up funds for Ben to move into a house of his own with adequate space for both him and Nora. Melody had long since shed any desire to live as she had growing up, so she didn't need more than a small cottage. They could find a solution somehow.

Only, giving up the house meant giving up. Every last shred of hope would be gone then and every memory, both good and bad, would be gone with it. Melody had faced Ben leaving with as much bravery as she could muster, but she didn't have quite that much courage yet.

She and Nora had returned from Diana's that morning to allow Nora time to settle before Ben came to pick her up. Only, the toddler was so elated to have returned to her home for the first time that week that it took nearly an hour and a half for her to finally go down for a nap.

By the time she made it downstairs, Ben was due to arrive any minute. This was perhaps the most frazzled he would have seen her since before he left, but without any time to fix herself up it was going to have to do. Not that it mattered much anyway. It wasn't as though he still cared for her beyond his obligations. It was as that thought was crossing her mind that the floo lit up behind her, forcing Melody to shove down any thoughts she might have had about the state of her marriage. "Hey. I'm sorry, she only just went down a little bit ago. She was too excited to sleep." Melody explained in a rush.

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   Reuben Crouch

His visits with Nora were the highlight of his week, but that was no surprise. His life at home was so solitary and quiet — so utterly unlike any version of him that had ever existed heretofore — that it always felt a bit like he was just going through the motions of being alive. He still had plenty of social interactions through work, but that was work. He saw his friends, but since the split with Melody there were only a few of them to whom he felt he could speak freely, which meant it wasn't as much of a release as it might have been. Even without that, though, he was sure Eleanora would still have been the highlight of each week. None of his friends could compare to spending time with his daughter.

It took him a second after walking in through the floo to notice anything was amiss. He didn't have the sort of eye for detail that would have led him to notice anything about the house, but he did note that Melody seemed stressed. That combined with Nora's absence put him momentarily on edge, but then she offered an explanation. His relief and disappointment were probably both evident in the way his shoulders relaxed and his expression changed. "Well, guess I can't fault her for that," he said, though it rang a bit hollow. He interpreted Melody's remark about excitement as excitement to see him, which was both gratifying and a bit heart-breaking. In any case, he wasn't going to ask Melody to wake her up to see him — but what was he supposed to do now? Leave without seeing her? Wait an hour or more for her to wake up?

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Despite her every intention otherwise, Melody found herself noticing every new detail on Ben. He was obviously thriving in his new environment, he seemed happier even. It made her both relieved and enormously disappointed to see the separation was suiting him so well. At least one of them could be happy now.

She resisted the urge to swipe some of the dust off the nearby table. Ben had to know how little time they were spending here, Mrs. Hopper was nothing if not shockingly loyal to him. If he hadn't said anything yet then she certainly wasn't about to bring it up.

"You can bring her back later to make up for it." Melody replied and immediately regretted how she worded herself. While she was greatly appreciative of Ben for allowing her to keep Nora most of the time, she hadn't ever wanted to be the authority on when and where Nora was to be. Not with Ben, anyway. He was her parent, too. Giving him permission in any defintion felt inherently wrong. "However you want to do it is fine." She continued, still regretting every word.

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Ben noticed her phrasing, but wasn't going to take offense when he had been tripping over himself throughout this whole process to reaffirm that he still wanted her to be a mother to Nora. He didn't want any doubt in Melody's mind that she had his... permission, blessing, something — to do what she thought was best for their daughter, and that he trusted her to make the right decision about what that was. Even if he didn't trust her in any other capacity.

"Well, you can tell me what time you want her back to get ready for bed," he suggested. "Wouldn't want to keep her out too late and throw her off even more." He may not have been the primary caregiver at any point in Nora's life, but living in the same house he couldn't help but notice how much more difficult things became when toddlers deviated from their routine sleep schedules. The last thing he wanted was for his visiting Nora to make either her or Melody's life more difficult.

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Were things normal, maintaining Nora's bedtime would've been something entirely within Melody or the nurse's control. Ben had almost nothing to do with the typical routine, with the feedings and nappys, and all the rest that came with it. He got to enjoy all of the great moments with Nora and to skip out of the miserable ones. Not that he always did — Ben was the most hands on father she knew of — he just would have required permission in a normal situatuon regardless.

"Yeah, sure." She answered without giving a direct answer to his immediate question. She was obviously uneasy, her nerves getting the better of her as she began to fidget with the hem of her sleeve. Why couldn't he have just believed her back in January? Why couldn't he have believed that she never would've strayed in any other circumstance?

She dug her nails into her palms, the pain a distraction from the spiral she so rarely allowed herself to go down anymore. "Eight is fine." Melody then added, no longer looking at him.

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Eight seemed like a lifetime away, and Ben almost said that was too late before he remembered that he didn't know when his time with Nora might actually start. If she'd just gone down for her nap, not in the immediate future. It might be an hour, or two, or even more before she was awake. Which, of course, turned him right back to the initial problem: was he just supposed to wait until then?

"So should I go?" he asked in a rush. Sitting down in the parlor and having tea or something while he waited until Nora woke up seemed unbearable for both of them. If he left, though, how would he know when to come back? He wasn't sure he liked the idea of periodically returning and repeating this conversation much better. He supposed he could ask Melody to owl him when their daughter woke up and was ready, but then he'd be cutting his already short visit even shorter. "Or — I guess I could go wait in the garden, or something?"

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"No, of course not. This is your-" Melody insisted before cutting herself short. This wasn't his house, not anymore. Not since he decided sharing a space with her was too impossible. Not since he decided to not believe her - to walk away from everything they were building towards. Ben didn't live here. Not anymore.

Still, she wasn't about to make him leave when he already got to spend such little time with Nora. The toddler was elated to spend an afternoon with her father and had been babbling 'dada' all day. If she were to wake up and Ben not be there as promised.... No. Ben couldn't leave.

"I'll go. Diana is heading to a gala tonight and I'm sure she'll want help getting changed. I'll be back here at seven thirty, just to make sure I'm here when you get here." She was rambling now, her grief and anxiety had surfaced too much for her to maintain the cool demeanor she typically did at these exchanges. "If she needs to come back sooner just send an owl. Or if she gets too irritable you can bring her straight to Diana's. You know where to find it." Melody hadn't resumed looking at him as she carried on, too focused on retrieving anything she might have discarded while trying to entice Nora into a nap.

Melody was so distracted with her rush to leave and rising embarrassment that she didn't notice how close she had gotten to Ben. Not until she had nearly walked right into him on her way to the floo, although she mercifully stopped herself about a foot short. "Sorry. I'm sorry." She stated immediately, her panic now obvious across her face. He was going to think it was some kind of trap or ploy, that she was attempting to cross the chasm he had spent months digging. He always assumed the worst of her. "I'm just going to - I'm just going to leave now."

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   Reuben Crouch

What she didn't say still stung, and by the time he'd recovered she was fleeing. There was no other word to describe it: she was moving frantically, not looking at him, rambling, clutching items. The things she picked up seemed random, not like things she would necessarily need to bring to her friend's house, which was when Ben finally put two and two together and realized she hadn't been staying here. She had already mentioned that she might spend time with her friend, but he didn't think he'd realized the full extent of it until now, and he immediately felt guilty. This might not have been his home anymore, but that didn't mean he'd ever intended to chase her out of it.

She stopped close by him and Ben inhaled sharply, expecting her to continue and bump into him, but she didn't. He hesitated, then sighed. He wanted to apologize, or to respond to her apology, or to explain, or to ask for an explanation, but he couldn't come up with any words except: "Melody." He didn't know if he was supposed to call her by her first name anymore, but he didn't know what else he could possibly call her. Was there a word for what they were to each other now? What heading would this have fallen under in Society Manners?

He hesitated there, standing between her and the floo and feeling the weight of all the words that weren't said between them. But he didn't know where to start, and after a long moment he took a step to the side, so that she could continue on — if that was what she wanted.

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   Melody Crouch

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Sometimes, when the nights stretched on infinitely and all that remained to her were ghosts, Melody wished for nothing more than a hug from him. She didn't need them to be romantic, she (mostly) understood his reasoning for leaving. It was the comfort in having a partner that she missed, the casual touches that carried her forward on trying days. A hand on her back would've sufficed even. They hadn't ever been physical again, but they'd been nearing it. They were so close to it on New Year's Eve, and Melody had destroyed it all in one fell swoop.

Now, with her grief laid bare and the air thick with tension, Melody still wanted nothing more than a hug from him to keep her going. She was beginning to wonder if she would ever stop wanting that hug.

She said nothing — she couldn't. Anything she said would break the peace they had established and disrespect all of his boundaries. And for once — for once — Melody was trying so hard to be the partner he deserved.

When he finally stepped aside, Melody knew she had to keep going. Every second longer she stood in this room was another second that allowed her to crumble. She didn't even realize she was crying, didn't feel the tears streaming down her cheeks as she crossed the final steps towards the floo.

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   Reuben Crouch

When she started moving again it almost hurt, but what had he been expecting? They didn't have anything to talk about. Neither of them wanted to linger here in this stifling moment. He took a second to swallow and then pushed ahead, taking a step forward past where she'd been without looking back at her. "I'll have her back at eight," he said, because he had to say something, but Melody was already stepping into the floo.

When he heard the fire flare up he turned to look — to watch her leave — and kept looking at the fireplace long after it had died away. The room felt so empty now that she was gone. The whole house did. The whole house was empty, most of the time. Now that he knew what to look for, he could see the dust starting to gather on everything that had once been theirs. The air felt stale and oppressive. Could Nora feel it too? Did she know this was a place abandoned? No wonder she'd had trouble falling asleep.

With nothing to do but wait, Ben eventually moved through the rest of the house. He took a rag from the kitchen and wiped down everything that was collecting dust — in the main living areas, anyway, not in either of their rooms. He opened the windows and shook out the curtains. He did things just to have something to do, and when he'd run out of those things he found a quill and parchment and left a note on the kitchen table: Tell me how to make it easier. Then he went upstairs to Nora's nursery, slipped inside, and watched his daughter sleep.

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   Melody Crouch

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