((OOC: Just to give you more to work with, Skrt, I wrote about the return of Celeste to the room lightly to give you more ability to interact with the scene in the way you'd expect Celeste to.))

[color=a36209][b][i]Adam 'Trails' Wilford- Sandy Coves[/i][/b][/color]

Adam ran a hand through his hair as Celese seemed taken aback by his offer, "Golly! That's...quite generous. Thank you! Please, why don't we settle up inside, hmm? I made some scones and believe I owe you a coffee." She held the door open for him and he stepped inside. "I'd love to hear more about what's so special about that stuff. I've met a few folks in my life who were into pre-war things but I don't think I've ever met a collector so...passionate." Adam felt a knot in his stomach, disdain knowing the situation unfolding and knew how he'd have to end it just like all the other time. Celeste had led him into a decently sized dining hall to one of the smaller tables and offered him a seat. Celeste didn't sit yet, instead she'd said "Now, you just sit right there and let me get you one of these warm scones and some coffee!" and gave a wide grin. But when she didn't come back quickly yet, he pulled out a photograph he seldom dared to ever acknowledge existed or risk falling into a day or two of deep sadness, but he knew today wouldn't be one of those days. He took in a deep breath and exhaled, unfurling the old picture he kept in a special film roll just for it. At once his mood sank as his mind gushed with a wild river of memories as the faded photo showed a beardless Adam, a woman in faded Pre-War clothes and a bundled child. He didn't need the photograph to be colored to remember her beautiful dark skin or the perfume she wore. The happy times or the fights. He'd heard Celeste coming back and didn't bother hiding it, he'd had enough experience in this situation now to learn proof helped.

When Celeste returned, he nodded, "Miss Celeste." He waved a hand to the chair across from him. "Ma'am, I need to be upfront. I...I think I know where this is heading and....I can't let it get there." He looked down at the scones, but just the sight of food was only making him feel sicker so he didn't touch them. "You ever heard the phrase 'It ain't you, it's me?' Well. It's sincere in this case.", he handed Celeste his faded picture. "That...", he stopped himself, he knew he had to acknowledge everything she was, "...she was my wife. We'd met in a situation a lot like this one. It was a ruined town in the Pre-War region of West Virginia. She was from one of them Vaults and I was still young enough to flirt like a Yao Guai in mating season. She had the most lovely ebony skin and a nice figure in her Vault Suit. She thought I was handsome," he smirked a sad and somewhat embarrassed smirk, "so she asked me to coffee in the town diner. Well, we spent five years together in that town, married by a wandering priest and everything." He fought with himself, as he always did when he needed to confront the worst parts of his life, to let out the last part. "Well, her being from a Vault, she didn't have the immune system to deal with all the problems of the Wasteland, so, she ended up getting cancer and passed away not long after, it was voracious. When she died, I fell into a black hole."

Adam continued to look at the back of the picture, "I...I'm not proud of myself for this, but I put my son up for adoption and took back to the road. I hurt to think of what I did to Jack, but it was for his own good. I'd just lost my wife and every time I looked at him, I saw her. I was unfit to be a father back then in the state I was in after Ellia's death. I didn't abandon him, I wanted him to have a good life and I wanted to run back to what I did best, wandering." He looked down at the cup of coffee, slowly ceasing to steam as it cooled, "I even left a letter for him when he was old enough to read with his adoptive family. A kid shouldn't spend his whole life thinking he wasn't wanted. I left him behind because that town wasn't much, but it was rural and away from any real faction fighting. Walled and safe. This life isn't for good men. Wandering I mean. I've killed my share of men just defending myself and even that feels like a tear in my soul. Twenty-three men dead so I can live. I keep a mental count of every life I take, not with pride, but with remorse. I didn't want Jack to have my life, he deserved better." Adam stood up, a quiet hand asking for his picture back. "I've never been with a woman since. Not as some sort of penance, but I never wanted to let another woman in my heart like that, to risk losing them like that again." He rolled the picture into its film case and tucked it in an inner jacket pocket. He bent in and gave her a slow and gentle kiss on the cheek, "If I stay in town a while and we spend a little more time together, maybe I'll finally get over my wife's death." Adam felt bad he didn't touch her food, so he grabbed the coffee. He chugged it like a young man does a beer and nearly gagged. "I....I shoulda.....ugh....drank it hot...." 

After recovering from that moment of unflatteringness, Adam chuckled at himself for being such a goof and breaking the clouds of despair he'd had hanging around him. He looked back and smiled, "Goodbye....Celeste.", dropping the formality he used to keep people at a distance. "Oh right!" He threw a small pouch to Celeste and went out front to get his chest and drag it home. Inside it was a bag of 165 caps and a note, the note reading '115 for the goods. 50 for being the worst. first date. ever. Come by my place on the coast. Look for the seaside shed with the big white boat and the Brahmin, I'll treat you to the better one you deserved'.