Bruce had met Lois at an awkward time in his life, when things were just starting to make sense after a long period of turmoil and grief. She seemed willing and able, perfect and wonderful, everything he could want, everything he might need, and yet there was the one thing he couldn't bring himself to tell her.

Batman was the wake of everything that he believed was good, and yet everything that, according to the people of Gotham and the police, because Batman wanted it that way, wasn't good. Bruce couldn't bring himself to tell her who he was, what he did at night, despite what she might have seen him, past all the garbage and fame, past all the playboy antics. Was it worth dragging her down? Was it worth wondering if she might exploit him?

It only left him begging to the question to be answered: did he trust her.

And then, one day, just like that, Lois stopped returning his calls. Stopped texting, emailing, anything that was some sort of social way of them interacting, to stay together.

Confused, after a long period of silence on her part, Bruce left a message at the Daily Planet for her to return his call, or message. One or the other, they needed to talk.

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thebrucewayne

February 2012

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