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She sees him standing at the bar, two drinks sweating in his hands. She was late coming back from work, and told him she would meet him there.
Henry is in California, joining his father on a business trip. Blair can’t help but laugh at the thought of Chuck, buttoned up and hair gelled, squished into the Dumbo ride at Disneyland.
Her Son’s Father. The connection still burned her, carrying a heavy weight in every conversation where it’s brought up, but she had appreciated the shift from My Ex Husband to My Son’s Father. During the final stage of the custody agreement, they had agreed on the legal changing of Henry’s last name. Henry Nathaniel Waldorf-Bass. This was a win for her, they said. But it didn’t feel like one. His name would always follow hers, that hyphen her cross to bear.
She taps Dan on the shoulder, and his face lights up when he turns around. I haven’t gotten used to it yet, he’d said one night, their limbs damp and tangled in the dark. Every time I look at you, you’re looking at me.
He hands her a drink.
“Drink up, your ice is melting.”
Blair’s brow quirks up.
“I didn’t realize you could afford such a fancy place, Humphrey. I suppose that writing thing is working out for you.”
Dan’s eyes flicker. He licks his lips, smiling.
“Not really. My girlfriend’s just loaded.”
A group nudges their way up to the bar, pressing the two of them together.
“Aren’t you a little too old for a girlfriend?”
Dan snakes an arm around her waist.
“I was thinking of asking her to marry me. You know, just for the money.”
Blair sneaks a hand between his legs, causing him to seize up slightly, a grin coming over him.
“Hmm,” She presses a kiss, wet with whiskey, on his lips. “Just for the money.”
When they were unpacking their new home, Dan found her sitting alone on the floor of the empty master bedroom, a stack of photos in her hand. He slid his back down the wall, taking a seat next to her.
On the top of the stack, she gripped a worn-out photo. When he peered over her shoulder, she handed it to him. A rare photo of the five of them, all together. Her and Dan on opposite ends.
“Sometimes, I get so afraid that you’ll never forgive me for all the time we lost.”
His head snapped up, brows furrowed together. His mouth opened, then closed, his face going slack. She saw him swallow, look back down at the photo.
“I get afraid too, that you’ll never really forgive me... for what I did.”
She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. She knew he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
She took the photo back from him. She looked so young, practically a child. All of them were.
“It seems so long ago. I know it’s selfish, but I wish we could go back and do it all over again.”
“We wouldn’t be here, like this, if we did.”
That night, after a few drinks at the bar, back in their bed, in their home, Blair moans into his mouth.
“We should do it. We should get married.”
Dan pulls away from her. A small smirk playing at his lips.
“I’m doing that good?”
Her palm comes over his face, pushing it away. He laughs into it. He swings an arm around her waist and flips her onto her back, looking over her.
“You really want to marry me?”
“I really want to marry you.”
“Good,” he kisses her softly, “because I really want to marry you.”
She lifts her head up, catching his earlobe between her teeth.
“Good. Now get back to work.”
Their first public outing as a couple had come three months after the divorce was finalized. Blair deemed it fitting to be at an Archibald gala, and one she was sure Chuck would not attend.
Blair doesn’t ask Serena about Nate, and she doesn’t ask Nate about Serena. People just love to see us together, Serena had offered her, unprompted. It’s funny. Someone said we were like Barbie and Ken, not sold separately.
Blair wasn’t sure what people were saying about her and Dan. She wasn’t sure she wanted to, either.
As the cameras flashed before them, Blair leaned into Dan. His mouth came down by her ear, whispering something crude and causing her to tip her head back with laughter. His beard tickled her cheek, and she turned to give him a quick kiss.
She let Nate use the photo as the cover image for the next day's Spectator.
There are a lot of things Blair likes about her life now, but what she likes most of all, she thinks, is waking up to see Dan.
She had gotten used to opening her eyes to an empty bed, the light blocking curtains that Chuck had installed keeping her in the dark. There was always somewhere more important to be, something more important to be doing. She could wait. She’d still be there, waiting, when he was done.
Now, she pulls off her sleep mask and finds Dan right there. He snores, he drools, and he suffocates her with his heavy arms and legs, always wanting to be wrapped up in her. But he’s always right there.
When he’s not, he’s in the kitchen, making her breakfast. Or in the bathroom, using all the expensive beard oils and face creams Blair bought for him. Or in his study, clicking away at his typewriter. But wherever she finds him, he always stops what he’s doing to give her a good morning kiss. He never keeps her waiting.
Henry’s fondness for his Uncle Dan didn’t entirely dissipate when he moved in with them, but it did heavily falter.
He took to dropping the Uncle, just Dan, his voice small but with an edge. Blair had sat him down, tried to talk through it. But it was confusing even for someone not in the second grade.
Dan does the best he can. He makes him waffles with bananas, syrup, and whipped cream, even against Blair’s protests of Too much sugar! He asks him about school, buys him books to read, offers to play with him. But Henry dislikes school, only likes it when Mommy reads him bedtime stories, and only wants to play pretend as Daddy.
One afternoon, Blair comes home to the sound of a small voice shouting and a slamming door. She stands in the foyer, frozen, bracing for impact, something that had become second nature to her.
She finds Dan sitting alone on the couch, slumped with defeat. He doesn’t look up when she comes in.
“I went to pick him up at school and they told me he’d gotten in trouble. He threw a tantrum and made a big mess. They said they called his father and they wouldn’t let me take him home because...“
Blair takes a quiet seat next to him. Chuck had gotten all hold on education in exchange for Blair making all medical decisions. She knew they would call him, if something like this came up. But she didn’t think it would.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. I just stood there like a fucking idiot and they fucking called Chuck -“
He stops short, before his voice rises. He takes in a deep breath.
“And he verified who I was.”
She can see how angry he is, but his eyes are still soft when he looks at her.
“He told them I was Henry’s mother’s boyfriend. You should have seen the way they looked at me. And Henry...”
He rubs a hand across his face.
“What did he say?” Blair asks, her voice hushed.
Dan clears his throat.
“I wish you were still my uncle and stopped trying to be my dad.”
Blair sits in silence for a moment.
“Why didn’t you call me?” She says,
“I knew you would leave work. I wanted to handle it.”
Blair places a hand on his arm, and he opens up immediately, letting her rest her head on his chest.
“It’s a normal response for a child who’s home life has changed.” Her voice is almost a whisper. “Next time, we’ll handle it together. We’re a team.”
She feels the tension his muscles relax.
“And next time, you won’t be my boyfriend.”
On Sundays, when they can, Blair takes Henry to the playground. It was something she had always done, valuing the time where she could watch him be a regular kid. No tiny tailored suit. No rides in the back of a limo. No last name following him around. It only lasted an hour or two, but it kept her anchored to the real world.
One Sunday, she asks Dan if he wants to come with them.
The sun is out, but dark grey clouds roll closer to the city, threatening a spring storm. Dan buys them all ice cream bars, even though it’s cold, and they sit together, Henry between them. When he finishes, Blair cleans the chocolate from his face and lets him go out into the jungle gym.
“He’s a beautiful boy,” the blonde woman on the park bench next to them says, “and it’s so nice that the both of you can do things like this with him. My husband works all the time.”
She feels Dan shift next to her, a correction at the ready. But Blair just leans back on his arm, smiling.
“We do the best we can for him.”
When it’s time to go, a light rain starting to patter on the concrete, Blair calls Henry back. He’s tuckered out, and Blair isn’t sure if he realizes it, but he takes a hold of Dan’s hand. Dan looks up at her, eyebrows quirked up.
It’s a perfect, harmonious moment, Blair thinks. And then she hears one of the mother’s lean towards the other as they leave.
“Amanda, that’s Blair Waldorf. That’s Charles Bass’ son.”
They get married in Paris at her mother’s home.
Blair looks around the room from where she sits, her and Anastasia getting their nails done. Dorota and Vanya in the kitchen, Harold and Roman in the courtyard, helping in Rufus and Jenny who were just in from London. She can hear her mother ordering someone, possibly Dan, around upstairs.
She can’t help but laugh a little, at how the crowds for each of her weddings had progressively gotten smaller. There were always cameras flashing. There was always pressure, always an ultimatum, always a bomb about to go off. The world had always been watching.
She knows there’s still something missing. The people she had built her life around, who she’d fenced herself in with from such a young age, weren’t there. Sometimes, she still had to remind herself just how much things had changed.
She wanders into the living room, her fingers spread out in front of her, admiring the glitter on her nails. She sees Henry, sitting in Cyrus’ lap, watching tv.
He’s young, dear. Cyrus had said to her. Much younger than you were. Give him time, he’ll find in Dan what you found in me.
That night, when Blair goes into the kitchen for a glass of water, she finds Dorota up. When she takes a seat next to her, she feels like a kid again. All of the nights they spent staying up late without Eleanor knowing.
“What’re you doing?”
“Just thinking.” Dorota looks up at her. “Do you remember what I say to you, on day of my wedding?”
Blair nods.
“I’m just so happy you find it, finally. Even if it’s with Mr. Dan.”
Blair laughs lightly.
“It took me a while. You got it on the first try.”
“Well, you know what they say. Third time is charm.”
The next morning, with the cool wind coming through the windows, and the golden light illuminating the halls, Cyrus officiates their wedding.
Blair’s dress is a form fitting white knit, with long sleeves and a flowing train. It’s simple, comfortable. She has no crown. She has no headband.
She looks in the mirror a long time, smoothing out the fabric on her stomach, her hips. She doesn’t look the way she used to. She hasn’t, not for a long time. Her body never went back to the way it was, after Henry, no matter how hard she tried. She saw the once-over looks from Chuck. She’s seen the lingering glances from her mother.
But it’s been a long time too, since she’s bent over a toilet, or a sink. Her knuckles don’t bruise anymore. She enjoys food, really enjoys it, without the overbearing thought of what would come later. And it took time, like it did before.
She almost regrets choosing the design, feeling exposed even though most of her skin is covered.
But when she comes through the high arched hallway, and Dan turns to see her, all her worries wash away.
She’s seen this look, twice before. His quiet awe. There’s something different about this time, something in his eyes. He’s looking at her, and this time, she’s looking at him too.
He takes her hands in his like he has so many times before.
Cyrus begins, but Blair doesn’t hear a word he says. She knows Dan can feel her pulse, beating hard in her hands. She can feel his, too. Everything that came before this might as well have lasted seconds. This was the rest of her life.
Dan lets out a shaky breath. “We’ve said everything there is to say.”
“What, no poetic, Wilder inspired vows this time?” She says, but her voice is wet, not teasing.
“I’ve used those all up.”
She hears her mother’s familiar laugh, and she pulls her eyes away to see her, face wet, squeezing onto an uncomfortable looking Henry rather tightly.
This time, only her world is watching.
“I can think of something we have left to say.”
“Yeah?”
She moves closer to him, her hands pressed against his chest now.
“Yeah. I do.”
There is something blissful about just being married for herself. No one knowing, no one watching, no ulterior motives laying underneath. Dan loves me for me. That was all this was.
She doesn’t know how or when she plans on telling people.
And then, one afternoon, once they’re back home, a chime flies through the air like a bullet. When their phones vibrate, Blair feels it in her gut. Familiar and twisted.
No, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you. Love is in the air, and I’ve come out of retirement for one all-encompassing, jaw-dropping update.
Sources say there’s been a new agreement met in the Waldorf-Humphrey merger, and it leaves out Bass completely. That’s right, our ex-Red Queen and Blue Boy were married in a small ceremony this week. I’m sure none of you needed me to see the rekindling of Serena VDW and Nate Archibald. Does New York’s Golden Boy just need a Golden Girl to help move his political campaign forward, or have they found true love, once again? Speaking of Van Der Woodsen’s, Little E put an engagement ring on the finger of Christian Shriver Kennedy today - and you heard that here first. I’d love to say you’ll hear from me again, but you know I hate to lie.
You know you miss me, xoxo.
Everyone reads the blast, and no one speaks of it. It haunts every interaction afterward, but doesn’t dare break through the veil.
Serena averts her eyes when Blair shows up at her place, with coffee and a plea for a shopping buddy, the small diamond glinting from her finger.
She sees Chuck for the first time since the divorce at William Vanderbilt’s funeral.
When he walks in the room, Dan removes his hand from where it rests on Blair’s knee. She reaches back over to him, interlocks their fingers.
Nate turns around in his seat, leaning towards her.
“I’m sorry, I had no idea they sent him an invitation.”
Blair smiles tightly, shakes her head.
“It’s okay. Turn around, they’re taking photos.”
The service is long, and after a slideshow of photos, many showing a young Blair and Nate, hand in hand, posing forcefully with his grandfather, Blair thinks she needs a drink.
She heads straight into the kitchen after the ceremony, and returns back out into the room with a cup of Dutch coffee.
She feels the chill of Chuck next to her. She keeps her eyes on the line of food in front of her, all of it incredibly unappetizing all of a sudden.
“Did Humphrey ever even meet Grandfather Vanderbilt?” He says stoically.
“It’s Humphrey-Waldorf now,” She looks up to meet his eyes. “And he’s Nate’s best friend.” You’re the one who seems out of place now, she thinks but doesn’t say, because that’s what he wants, and she’s done giving Chuck what he wants.
“I named my child after him...and he hasn’t spoken to me in months.” She feels his stare burn through her.
“I named him.” She says.
She doesn’t know when Dan appeared by her side. She’s gotten used to him always being there, next to her. His skin on hers had become second nature to her. Instinctively, Dan’s hand covers her shoulder, protecting the place where Chuck remained on her body.
She places a hand on Dan’s waist, steering him away from the scene. She says nothing more to Chuck.
In the car ride back from the park one Sunday, Blair turns up the radio.
“You know it’s been 13 years since we met?”
Dan takes a quick, curious look at her.
“You’re keeping count?”
Blair rolls her eyes, but smiles.
“Does it feel like 13 years to you?”
She watches him watch the road. He shakes his head.
“Feels like 13 seconds.”
They come to a red light, and Dan ducks sideways, startling her with a kiss. She laughs, swats his face away. In the rear-view mirror, she sees Henry smile.
Near the end of the year, Dan finishes the first draft of his memoir. He leaves a copy for her on the coffee table, which she slips into her purse to take to the office.
At lunch, she pulls it out. She savours the first page, an almost blank white sheet with only two lines.
Untitled Memoir
By Daniel Humphrey-Waldorf
When she flips it open, she feels her heart catch in her throat.
To BCHW and HNWB
The main characters in my life.
One night, when snow dusts the windows, Henry runs up to the foot of their bed, crying. His sobs are loud, and startle Blair, taking her a moment to adjust to her surroundings.
When she does, she sees Dan upright, Henry standing between his legs with his head pressed to Dan’s chest. Dan scoops him up, bringing him onto the bed, where he curls between them, mumbling something about a bad dream between sniffles. Henry keeps his head tucked against Dan’s chest, Dan rubbing his back slowly.
At first, Blair thinks she mishears it. But then Dan clutches onto Henry harder.
“I’m scared, Dad.”
A slip of the tongue. Only one letter off. But Blair holds on to it.
It’s the first week of December and Blair opens her eyes to see Dan next to her, Henry lying asleep on his chest.