cw :: domestic abuse, miscarriage

“You and Christian are looking pretty close in these pictures,” Sarah says out of the blue. Casey’s been in the kitchen rummaging through cabinets but suddenly stops. A peek outward and he sees her on the couch checking her phone. His heart jumps. Where had they faltered? Had they really faltered or was it nothing? He’d kill to see whatever she’s looking at, but he doesn’t want to seem too nervous.

His eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Just looks like you’re spending a lot of time together is all.” Sarah sets her phone down, folding her arms and looking out the window. “Kinda like you and me used to.”

Casey takes a deep breath through his nose. He determine the picture is probably nothing, but knows what she’s getting at. There was a time when Casey Caverly and Sarah Hudson were never seen without each other. Every event, every outing, every tour, signing — any time they could look as though they’d been sewn together at the hip, they did. And now it’s like they don’t even know each other. Even worse, it’s like they never loved each other.

Christian had slowly moved to tie up the hole in his hip where Sarah had split from him, but whenever the opportunity comes around to tell her, he chokes.

He could tell her there’s something going on since she brought it up, but all the words remain huddled on the tip of his tongue, too scared to take the plunge. It’s not a fight he’s ready for. Casey swallows the words back, focusing on the empty cabinets again. “Yeah…”

He can’t rightfully be annoyed at any perceived accusations, now can he?

“We used to do all this stuff together,” Sarah goes on.

“I asked you to come.”

“It’s hard for us to both be out at the same time.”

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you realize how hard that is for me, Casey.” Sarah rolls her eyes elbow on the armrest so she can prop her chin with her hand. "That or you don’t care.”

Casey shakes his head, slamming the cabinet shut. “I wish you’d stop saying that.”

“And I wish you’d stop just saying ‘well come on then’ like it’s that simple. I’m glad it was easy for you to get right back up and continue on with things, but I’m not like that. Sorry to be so disappointing.”

“I never said you were disappointing…” Casey steps away from the kitchen into the living room, but doesn’t dare come near. Instead, he’s leaned on the wall near the hallway toward the room, in case an exit plan becomes necessary. “Learning how to move forward again was hard for me too. Learning how to talk without choking up, or thinking about it, or thinking about how I shouldn’t be acting normal — I get it, Sarah, I do. But how are we ever supposed to move on from that if you never even try?”

“You may think you get it, but you don’t!” Sarah snaps, suddenly standing. “You didn’t carry her, Casey. You didn’t have to lay in a hospital bed, totally exposed to an entire room full of doctors, just so they could tell you your little girl was dead, did you?” He says nothing so she keeps prodding. “Did you!? And now you don’t have to sit at home, looking at pictures of your husband out having a great time while you’re still too upset to even think of going out. If you think you understand ANYTHING, you’re a f***ing idiot.”

“You wanna know what happens when I stay here? This, right here.” Casey motions back and forth between them. “You and I wander around the house in silence all day because we can’t say a single word to each other without it turning into this, and then you wonder why I’m never here? You wonder why I’m so eager to get out when every time I take a step back, you are right there to scream at me over nothing. You won’t tell me what you want, you won’t tell me anything unless it’s in the form of yelling at me, so excuse me if I don’t necessarily wanna be around you.”

There they are again, the words that would get him off the hook, right at the tip of his tongue, and still too scared. Still being swallowed back while his other rampage overran them to make the first leap. “I don’t want to sit here in this, I’m sick of it.”

“You’re sick of it?” Sarah’s now close enough to shove Casey’s shoulders back, cornering him into the wall, exit plan officially foiled. “How the f*** do you think I feel, Casey? Stop being a f***ing p**sy and maybe think about me instead of yourself!”

“Dude, knock it off!” Casey scoots himself further into the wall if only to get a half an inch of space between them.

“No, you wanna hash it out, let’s hash it out. Will that make you feel better? Will that make you less sad?”

“I said back off!” When he shoves Sarah back, he’s immediately met with a slap across the face, the abruptness of it silencing the both of him. Sarah quickly draws back while Casey stares at her wide-eyed, his chest practically erupting, ears ringing. She’s crying, but he can’t reach her as she takes a few steps away from him. “You happy now?” She whispers.

Casey turns his head away, running his fingers through his hair, his skin blazing where she smacked him. He grits his teeth together, swallowing a mouthful of words once again before he makes a turn for the front door.

“You’re really just gonna leave, are you kidding?”

Casey, with his hand on the door knob, glares back at her, eyebrows raised. “I’m the furthest thing from kidding.”