Work Text:
Florence still has her ring, presumably. She hid it away when she ran off with Anatoly but couldn’t will herself to get rid of it. As far as Freddie and Walter know she could have sold it after she got home, after they saw her for the last time, but she had it as recently of them. It stays hidden in the bottom of her purse, where various odds and ends bury it and prevent her from seeing it.
Freddies ring is at the bottom of a river in Thailand. He doesn’t know which one, not for not learning its name but because he was in a drug and alcohol induced haze when he did it. It was just before he had been jumped, maybe the muggers had seen it and decided to attack him based on the idea he might have more jewellery to steal. He didn’t. Now the blue stones blend into the water on the other side of the world. He’ll never see it again.
Walter still wears their ring. Left hand, fourth finger, like everything’s fine. They’ve always lied about it when they travelled, and said they were married. That they have a wife at home. No one seems to notice how it looks just like the other two’s. They only lie about it abroad, claiming it’s easier that way. A good story to use to keep people off of their backs. Freddie lies too, pretends he’s single, but that's different. He’s hiding something, not creating it. Walter doesn’t think that’s good enough.
They’ve been home for a month when Freddie gets sick of seeing it. He confronts them in the kitchen, the sight of the shiny green stones so early in the morning in a place he could visualize all three of them so clearly is the last straw.
“Get rid of it.” Freddie says flatly.
Walter is pouring coffee for the both of them. “Get rid of what?”
“The ring.”
They pause and set the pot down after only pouring one of the two cups. Neither of them take it. “...No.”
“No?”
“I like it. We’re still together, anyways. It isn’t my fault you lost yours.”
“I didn’t lose it. I got rid of it on purpose.” Freddie snaps. “Florence still has hers, I bet. We’re not marrying her anymore.”
“Are we getting married?” Walter asks. It’s a good question. Without Florence around it doesn’t seem to make sense anymore. Maybe they never were going to, even before she left. What marriage implies for them is just as unclear. What would the point be? The idea of it holds them together and gives the illusion of a future.
Freddie takes the coffee. He needs it. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m just asking."
They've been over it. The two of them could get legally married if they wanted to, it wouldn't cause many problems. It's the one thing that F on Freddies ID would be good for. That's not something that Freddie is comfortable with. "You know where I stand on it. I'm not going to risk outing myself just for the government to give me a piece of paper that proves a relationship they don't even respect."
Walter puts the second mug away. They can reheat the coffee later if they feel like it. “I get that.” Freddie resists the urge to say no you don’t . He holds some envy for Walter being able to move through life without people constantly questioning their identity, even if the assumptions made weren’t accurate. “If we’re being honest I’d like to do it for the tax benefits, but it isn’t important to me.” They probably shouldn’t have said it, but a little unagreeable truth helps to balance out the blatant lies.
Freddie doubts that they don't find it important. They wouldn't still be wearing the ring if it wasn't. "So what do you want?"
"It's up to you." It's not. It's like someone saying it's fine when it obviously isn't. Walter would still make the concession on this if they had to. Not like there'd be a choice. "We could go on a vacation and do something that marks it. I'd leave that decision to you, I'd do anything."
"But you've been thinking about it."
"Of course I was. We were talking about it before-" They don't say her name. Freddie's already in a bad mood. "What do you have against it, anyways?"
Freddie never said he was against it, but it's written all over his face. His fists are balled. He's stressed. Florence left them so recently, and he's terrified of Walter walking out on him too. In theory the best way to stop that from happening is to marry them. Then he thinks of the way Walter is all too eager to spit out some fake story about a wife that they’ve kept consistent all this time. It’s the idea that maybe all Walter wants is some idyllic wife and children situation- and, against his rational thought, Freddie worries that he’s supposed to fit into that. That’s frightening. But he’s not one to voice those concerns lest it compromise his integrity as a man. And what is he supposed to say? I’m jealous of your fake wife ?
“I’m not marrying you. Sell the fucking ring.” Freddie says before he properly decides what he wants. His mouth makes the decision for him.
Walter takes the ring off and looks at it for a long moment before they respond. “I’m not doing that.” They put it into their pocket. “I’m keeping it. Even if we don’t get married.”
“We’re not . And I better not see it again. Especially when we travel. You’re getting a fake divorce, okay?”
Walter doesn’t know whether to laugh about being forced to fake a divorce or let themself express the outrage they’re actually feeling that the engagement is being called off. “...Fine.”
They can’t find the words to say to each other. It’s a disaster, a wedge being driven between them, and it’s not filled with screaming. It’s quiet. It’s all falling apart, only a matter of time before they crash and burn and are left with no one, not even each other. There’s nothing to keep going for. Yet they pretend it’s going to work for a little longer.
Freddie locks himself in their bedroom and plunges face down onto the bed. He screams into the pillow and hits the side of the bed over and over, he’s so angry and there's no one to come crying to when he’s gotten into a fight with the other partner anymore.
He hears something break. Something small, a glass maybe. He imagines Walter breaking it and then cleaning it up like it was an accident even though they did it on purpose. And they don’t talk about this. Neither of them talk about it.
It’s not over yet, but it’s going to be. It’s going to be.