Casey

He knew her too well for his own good. He had imagined himself on some wild goose chase, lasting long into the night, culminating in a dramatic confrontation, perhaps even a heroic rescue, depending on what kind of people she had gotten herself mixed up with.

Unfortunately, fate would not be so kind. As previously mentioned, he knew her. And knowing someone that well makes it incredibly easy to find them. For one because you know their tendencies and preferences so well, and secondly on some deep, instinctual level. From the moment he peeled out of Molly's to the time he laid eyes on his girl again was twenty minutes, tops. He'd taken the main drag for awhile, eventually turning off at the park he recognized from numerous visits from her. Unless she was sneaking away to cheat on him, which even he had to admit seemed unlikely, she was probably looking for some sort of solace or quiet.

It threw him a bit to not find anyone at their typical spot by the pond in the middle of the park. At first he though he had misread the whole thing, but soon realized he was right all along, he was just missing a piece of the puzzle. She had been here, he was certain of it. But if all she wanted was peace and quiet, she could have just canceled the date and stayed home ignoring him, like she did every night. No, this was different. She wanted away from him. With renewed pain at how far they had come and fresh tears threatening, he dragged himself back to his truck and began again. He stayed off the highway this time, continuing on into this little "city" nearby.

It wasn't a city in major metropolis way, but it was fairly bustling, especially at night, and just the place someone could go to blow off some steam when their own bar was just a little too familiar. It was only moments into his patrol of the town that his suspicions were confirmed. And in a more painful way than even he had anticipated.

There she was, the woman who gave him more happiness and security and purpose than anyone ever had. She was alive, and she wasn't in distress, and she was so damn happy. It was like someone had dropped a bucket of ice water over his head and punched him in the gut at the same time. He pulled over, just taking a moment to let the sight before him fully sink in. She was at a stool in some bar, surrounded by probably 5 or 6 people he had never even seen before. But by God did they look happy. The last time he had seen her look that carefree...it eluded him. He couldn't even remember. No time recently with him, that was for damn sure.

He would have almost rather found her cheating on him. At least that would have just been about the sex, and even he had to admit his patience was waning as far as that drought went. But this, this was worse. She didn't want sex, she just wanted away from him. It was in that moment that he realized how much of a burden he and their relationship had become to her. He had never felt more like an idiot: here he was, planning some romantic dinner and then a second bout of foolishness in the same night. He had actually thought maybe she just needed a break from people.

But no, naive Matt Casey gets duped again. She did need a break-from him. And that's exactly what she was going to get. Through the world of hurt that was threatening to entirely overtake him, he still loved her more than anything in the world, and the last thing he was going to do was interrupt what was clearly one of the best nights in her recent memory. And if he was being honest with himself, if he walked in that bar, the moment she laid eyes on him would break him, because she would not be able to hide her disappointment at his intrusion into her life. And that was something he would not ever be able to forget. So for what must have been a record-breaking fourth time in one night, he rolled his engine back to life in defeat and made his way home. He supposed there would be some sort of confrontation tonight after all, but not nearly the kind he had envisioned. He was going to let this play out for itself.

It was nearing 9:30 by the time he made it home, and threw his coat into the corner. If the drive had served any purpose, it was to depress him even more. If she even came home that night, yeah, he supposed they would talk. But however long that was going to take was not time he wanted to spend sober. Under a minute elapsed between when he walked in the door and when he was slouched on the couch with a bottle of vodka. It was all the liquor they had, so he couldn't go through it too fast. They had a few beers, which he was certain he'd be throwing back at some point during the night too, but he had to make sure he had the heavy hitter in his system first. He was an old pro at this.