A/N: This is set a few years in the future. Everything in the show has happened. Enjoy!

Blair felt like she was on a tilt-o-whirl. Three hundred pounds strapped to her chest. A knife splicing her open.

Her entire body thrummed in pain; her chest heaved for a breath that wasn't coming. She was sure the passerbys thought she was simply a woman on the verge of a mental breakdown.

(They weren't that far off).

No tear had been shed for a while, her eyes far too numb to produce any drop. She sat on a random bench in Central Park, dry-eyed with a broken heart. The bread in her fingers had barely moved an inch. The ducks wouldn't want it anyway; the air had surely made it stale at this point.

She reached down to twist her ring out of habit – but her empty finger twisted her heart instead.

Her mind raced and she gripped the bench to stable herself. She felt panic rise in her once again, and she tried with all her might to choke back a sob.

For the first time since she had fallen in love with Chuck – even through all of their trials and tribulations (and Jenny) – she felt doubt. Doubt in them. If they would survive this. If they could survive this. And she was scared as hell.

The most ironic thing about this disagreement – this entire dispute – was that it was over choosing a date for their wedding. It was supposed to be one of the most momentous occasions of their lives; checking off a happy task on their very long wedding to-do list. But instead, it led Blair to a dirty park bench and an empty finger, where she sat crippled in fear for her future.

Their future.

The conversation had gone so well at first. It had spun out of control so quickly.

::

Back from her day at the spa, Blair padded into Chuck's home office relaxed and on a mission. During her hour-long massage, she had fiddled with her engagement ring under the table – her new favorite habit – which had reminded her, yet again, that they still had not set a date.

Even in the middle of his important conference call, Chuck's eyes were glued to her swaying hips. Blair sauntered over behind his chair and ran her hands down his sturdy arms, loving the way her touch affected his voice. Thankfully he ended the call just as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Hello, my love," she mumbled against his skin.

"Mmm. It's been far too long since I've last seen you." Chuck tugged her arms and pulled her onto his lap, immediately capturing her lips. He hummed in pleasure when she opened her perfect mouth for him, allowing his tongue to meet hers. "How was your spa day?" he asked when they pulled apart.

She gave him a lazy smile. "It was...relaxing." Her eyes fluttered shut when he kissed below her ear. "I was able to think about some things."

"Yeah?" he asked, trailing his lips down her neck. Her breath hitched, and she felt him smirk against her skin. "Like what?"

Blair sighed, overcome with lust, but pushed through it. She had an agenda to get through.

"Bass?" she asked innocently, bringing up a hand to caress his cheek.

"Yes?" he answered, lips drawn to her neck once again.

"Chuck," she gasped, not at all sounding serious, as she had intended. "Can we please talk about setting a date?"

His mouth stopped and then he pulled away. "What?" he asked.

Blair wondered why he was acting so strange and let out a nervous laugh. "Our wedding date, darling. We haven't chosen one."

His distant eyes furrowed at her pet name, and he glanced away from her. "Blair, can we talk about this later? I have another call."

He lightly lifted her off his lap and Blair couldn't help but feel an invisible wall rise in between them.

"Chuck, what's going on?" she asked cautiously.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. "We can talk about this later, Blair."

She scoffed and, as nicely as she could, grabbed the phone out of his hand. She looked at the phone and saw he had pressed numbers at random. "Really, Bass? I thought you were a better schemer than that," she said in a tone that brought her right back to high school.

Chuck shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Why do we need to set a date today?"

Her eyebrows raised, the conversation becoming more unbelievable by the second. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, but took a breath to calm herself. "Why all of a sudden are you acting like you are being forced to marry Georgina? This is me Chuck."

He stayed silent; it spoke volumes.

"Are you getting cold feet?" she asked in a small voice. "Do you not want to marry me?" She backed away unconsciously and placed a hand over her heart, as if trying to stop the pain webbing across her chest.

Chuck's head whipped in her direction. "Of course not."

"Then what is it?" she asked calmly, but there was an unmistakable edge. She took another deep breath, hating the tears that had formed in her eyes. It was starting to give her away. "What the hell is it, Chuck?"

"It's nothing," he shrugged off quietly.

His response made Blair's heart drop even more. She cleared her throat, hoping it would ease the tightness that was rapidly expanding. She softened her tone. "For god's sake, Chuck. Are we really going to go back to that place?"

"What place?" he asked casually. Too casually.

She stared at him for a moment. "The place where we pretend we don't know when the other is lying. I can read you Chuck. I know you better than I know myself, remember?" She was more than confused now. How did he still not know this?

"I'm not lying," he said defensively.

"But you're not being honest," she clarified sharply. "Five minutes ago you were fine. What's wrong?"

"Blair, nothing's wrong," he said, idly checking his watch. "I'm just busy right now."

"I know your schedule, Bass. You're not," she said, wondering how he had forgotten that just this morning, he told her what his day looked like.

"Is this a glimpse of married life? You knowing everything about me and my life?" he sneered.

She stared at him, clearly hurt. "Are you serious right now?"

"Are you serious right now?" he retorted back. Suddenly, he gave an alluring smile. "Blair, why can't we just stay as we are – engaged? I know how much the word "fiancé" turns you on. And frankly," he said, eyes trailing down her body seductively, "it has the same effect on me."

"You're not getting off that easy Bass," she smirked, masking the pain she felt inside. "Stay on topic."

Chuck audibly sighed. "Blair, just because we're engaged doesn't mean we need to race down the aisle."

Blair fought the urge to drop her jaw. "Race down the aisle? We've been engaged for eight months, Chuck. This is practically the first time I've mentioned the wedding!" She had done this for a reason. She had purposely made no mention of caterers, florists, locations– nothing. It had taken them a long time to get to this point – and she wanted to revel in it – but they couldn't put it off forever. This was the last reaction she had expected from him.

He rubbed his chin and ran an aggravated hand through his hair. "Blair–"

"What?" she cut in softly. "What is it, Chuck? Why are you so against getting mar-"

"We need more time," Chuck interrupted. "We need more time," he repeated again, as if the answer was obvious.

Blair took a step forward, too unsettled to stay still. She tried her hardest to keep her emotions and temper in check, but her constricting chest was making it difficult. "More time to do what? Love each other?" she asked in a voice thick with sarcasm.

"No," Chuck responded slowly. "More time to be our own people."

She didn't know how to answer to that. Hadn't they had this conversation before?

He continued, "You still need to find out who Blair Waldorf is."

She shook her head. "No I don't," Blair said, voice quavering. "I don't."

He was annoyed now. "Yes, you do."

"No I don't, Chuck." She was starting to sound slightly panicked. Why did she feel like she needed to prove herself?

"Blair–"

"How long–" she said, pausing to swallow. "How long have you been feeling this way?"

He simply shrugged, enraging Blair further. She brought up a hand to her forehead, and noticed it was shaking. She closed her eyes and turned away from him. She didn't know this man; she hadn't seen this man in a long time. It scared her. She faced him again and opened her eyes.

"You don't know?" she mocked, knowing it would get under his skin. "How about the two-hundred fucking times you happily introduced me as your fiancée? Was it then?"

"Blair–"

"No," she hissed. "You don't get to talk anymore."

She laughed, but it was lined with fury. She ignored the tears that slowly filled her eyes again. "I knew you would do this to me," she said quietly, shaking her head in disbelief.

Chuck – still obnoxiously silent – just stared at her.

"I knew you would get scared and mess up," Blair whispered.

He turned away from her.

"I knew it from the moment I stripped for you at Victrola. I knew it in that fucking limo. I knew it when you couldn't say those three words. I knew it when you traded me for your hotel. I knew it when you fucked Jenny.

"You don't want to get married? Fine. You're a coward Chuck. Always have been, always will be." She paused for a beat. "I should have never given you another chance."

That last comment seared through him and he flinched. It was only then he seemed to realize what a mistake he had made – and that she had thrown her ring at him. He opened his mouth to respond, but she had already spun around and left. He was left there – paralyzed.

::

Blair walked the city streets aimlessly. She was still feeling a grief she hadn't felt in a long time– maybe not ever before. The things she had said...

She couldn't think about it. She could never forgive herself.

Not knowing what else to do, she turned into a dim restaurant, hoping a drink would help calm her nerves. She was also glad to be around other people; she didn't trust herself right now to be completely alone.

There were murmurs of conversation all around, mainly quiet mutterings with an occasional stray laugh. It was enough to mute her thoughts for a moment, and she was thankful for a reprieve from the voices inside her head.

Blair made her way slowly over to the bar, but before she could make it, she heard something different – notes. Her head whipped to the source of the sound, her eyes honing in on the instrument. The piano was tucked away in the corner of the room. She found it ironic that something so overlooked – something almost neglected – could stop her in her tracks. She watched as the pianist's fingers kissed the keys ever so softly, producing a melody that that made her want to weep.

Blair knew immediately – Chuck may never know – but she knew immediately, this song was theirs.

Each note was an unspoken word that Blair couldn't voice – her wordless apology to Chuck. It was so beautiful and so raw and so true and so goddamn right. Just like them, the sharps clashed and some keys were fumbled; but once they were all strung together, they made so much sense. Perfect harmony. No one could tell them they were wrong, or that they didn't fit together.

She stood completely still, captivated and mesmerized, until the piece ended. As he struck the final note, tears had long blanketed her cheeks. She didn't even bother wiping them away as she turned and rushed to the door.

She had to get back to him.

She ran home in her heels, not caring how they dug into her ankles, and didn't stop until she was inside their elevator. After the painfully slow ride, she ran swiftly to his office. The door was open, so she quietly walked inside. She didn't even bother knocking.

Blair stopped and stood in the middle of the room, wanting to give him enough space to not feel overwhelmed; respect his boundaries. He stared out the window, motionless. "Chuck," was all she said, and she saw his shoulders relax.

He still didn't face her.

"Chuck," she said again, and reached down to twist her bare finger. He didn't move a muscle, except for his hands. Her eyes traveled down to look, and her heart swelled when she saw him doing what she had intended. Her Harry Winston was on his pinky, his fingers twisting the ring.

"Chuck. You don't have to look at me, but pleasehear me." Her voice pressed, pled, begged. "I don't know what I was thinking. I can't believe I said those things."

He remained silent.

"Please look at me," she asked, her voice quavering. "I need to see your face. I need to see you."

He still didn't move – so she did.

Blair strode over to the window, stopping once she was flush against him. When she finally saw his eyes, the sadness in them made her knees weak. She placed a hand on his cheek, and instead of pushing her away, he rested his head against her palm. The gesture flooded her with relief, knowing he was at least turning towards her, rather than away.

"Chuck," she said softly, finally drawing his eyes to hers. "I was a fool for saying those things. Please believe me. Please forgive me. Please love me still."

Chuck closed his eyes again at the last phrase. "I'll never stop loving you," he said in a hushed promise.

"Good," she said, as the three hundred pounds finally lifted off of her. She lightly traced her thumb over his eyelids to coax them open again. Her heart warmed when they did. "Chuck, I would rather be alone than not be bound to you forever. When I fell in love with you, you added on a whole new part of me. A part that will never go away. A part that you–" she lightly jabbed his heart, "and you only can fill."

He nodded softly.

"When are you going to get it?" she said rather lightly, but the question hung heavy in the air. "Blair Waldorf or Blair Bass – she's the same person. She can only exist if she has you."

His eyes met hers again.

"I will never lose myself in your shadow. We have the same one." She paused a moment before continuing, "I don't care if our wedding is tomorrow or six years from now."

She felt tears fill her eyes again, but continued, "I want to marry you and say 'I do' and kiss you inappropriately in front of our friends and family and ignore our reception and make love to you in the limo and never leave our suite on our honeymoon and wake up next to you every morning and annoy you with my mood swings when I'm pregnant and have you by my side when I give birth to our first child and parent with you and grow old with you and never stop loving you."

She took a breath. "The only person I imagine doing all of that with is you. I want to be your wife and I want you to be my husband. I have already committed my life to being with you; it doesn't matter when our families witness that vow."

"I'm sorry too," he whispered. He turned completely towards her and brought his hand up to cradle her face. Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you." He moved to her cheek. "I love you." Her nose. "I love you." Her ear. "I love you." Hovering over her mouth. "I love you." And then he crashed his lips against her, deepening the kiss and erasing every speck of doubt she had earlier.

Coming back to him – kissing him right now – was the only thing she had done right all day. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, still feeling far too separated.

When they pulled away, gasping for air and hearts thumping out of control, he brought his mouth close to her ear. "How about April 10th?"

"Perfect," she said, solidifying it with a kiss. "Absolutely perfect."

And then he slipped the ring back to where it belonged.

Where it would stay.

A/N:

I am bowing down to my beta, the wonderful nondescriptf. Non, you were a total rockstar throughout this whole process with me. And extremely patient with all of my complaining about how hard this was to write. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are a wonderful writer, and I'm honored that you agreed to help me.

And to iluvenis- you were WAY more helpful than you realize...so stop thinking you weren't! :) Thank you for reading some of my drafts and being so candid about my characterization. I needed someone like that, and this final draft flourished from that honesty. In addition, thank you so much for your support and cheerleading.

Reviews would be lovely. :)