Arguing part six

A.N. oh the angst, the angst. I promise it'll be over with soon. Just this and the epilogue. Too much angst. Gotta go lie down.

Thanks for anyone that's reviewed, it means a lot.

I don't understand why I feel this way. Why I can love someone, but at the same time feel so uneasy about being with them. I know the argument was my fault. I know I was working too much. Hell, even when I first came to Vegas I never worked seven nights in a row.

I don't understand why everything has thrown me so much. I've never doubted that I love him. It never even crossed my mind. But everything happened in such a rush. Or it seemed to. One moment we were enjoying just being with each other, enjoying our relationship, when suddenly we're engaged, we're living together in a bomb site for a house…everything changed at once.

Do I regret it? When he asked me, I knew it was the right decision. In a year or two, anyway. It happened then. It happened so quickly my feet barely touched the ground.

I miss having somewhere solid to go home to. I miss my apartment. And as I stand, in the empty space of it now, a strong pull to go home, to come back here beckons me. I know Warrick would find it hard to deal with the fact that I've still got my apartment. That I still kept it, even after we moved in together. That on the days when I can't face the building work, I go there to sleep.

I know he probably won't forgive me if I tell him. That's why I felt the need to yell at him so much about the casino. Guilt does strange things to a person. Warrick is the strongest person I know. He stayed out of the gambling arena cold turkey for three years. Not many people give up cold turkey like that. And I'm proud of him. One mistake doesn't erase that. It's just that, a mistake. I could see in his face that he regretted his decision.

Did I tell him that?

Um…no?

I couldn't, I didn't have the words to. It was easier to be angry, to yell, than to admit that whilst he'd returned to his bit of safety just that once, I had regularly visited mine whenever the going got too tough. See, I'm meant to be this strong woman. I'm not. I'm a coward.

I hate the crumbly walls. I hate wondering at night whether the ceiling is going to fall down. I hate cold showers and candlelight and having to charge my cell at work.

I hate not having stability. That's it. I moved to Vegas in a heartbeat, but the first thing I did was rent an apartment, put all my stuff down, make roots. I'm a home girl, definitely. Makes life easier to deal with when you know where you're coming home to. Or what you're coming home to.

Have I ever doubted that Warrick loves me? Does all the time answer that? And I feel bad when I do. But it's there. The doubt.

No, that's not right.

I don't doubt that he loves me. I know he loves me. I doubt…I doubt that he'll be there when I come home. I doubt that he'll come home at night. I doubt that we'll be together forever.

I doubt that he'll always want to be with me.

I doubt that I'll always be here with him.

I have a lot of doubt.

Should it feel weird that I'm talking to myself out loud now?

See, I haven't seen Warrick in three days. Which is about the longest we haven't seen each other in months. A year, even.

And a part of me, my heart, mostly, is crying out loud for him. Even now, I can't see most of the apartment because like they have done for the past three days, the tears come suddenly to my eyes.

I've never felt like this before. I'm standing in the apartment, in my apartment, but I feel worse. I feel bad. I feel unstable, and insecure and all the other emotions that I hate and were the reasons for my leaving in the first place.

I'm standing in the apartment but it feels wrong.

Of course I know why. I just don't want to admit it, even here, even alone in my space. I don't want to admit that to feel at home now, I need him there. Because to do so would be the very opposite of what I've strived for, for so long. Independence…not needing someone else. The laugh comes out harsh. Yeah right.

I. Need. Him. I've already admitted I'm a coward, and now I've admitted that.

I need him.

Now, how do I tell someone else that? How do I tell him that?

Is this what love is? The destroyer of independence, the need to be with someone to feel whole again? That heart wrenching fear of being alone. That gut turning need deep inside that squirms away at the thought of not being held by him again?

My frustrated sigh sounds hollow as it echoes in the empty apartment, making it sound bigger than it is.

And then there's a knock at the door that makes me jump so far I almost knock my head against the ceiling.

I whirl round, stare at the door as if by magic I could suddenly have x-ray vision and see who was there. It could be anyone. The Kleeneze woman. A door to door collector of money for some worthwhile cause. A wrong door.

But I know who it is. And I don't want to answer. Because then he'll know. Then he'll know that I lied to him, and that I'm a bad person and that I'm a coward.

And I don't want him to see that.

The knock comes again. Measured. Precise. Two knocks. And suddenly my heart pushes my head aside and moves my legs, making me walk towards the door, making me take the short walk even as my head makes a continuous moan of the word no.

He takes me in, in a glance. Making me feel naked and vulnerable in a single gaze. I expect anger. I don't get it. Which scares me more. Anger I can deal with. I can do. Anger is what he expects from me.

His look is a strange mirror of mine though. Scared. Lonely. Needing.

I never thought of him as needy before.

He steps in as I back away into some space, confused by him, by his emotion.

He glances around the furnished but mostly empty apartment. There's a single coffee mug on the table. A bunch of tissues in the wastebasket. My cell charging on the counter.

Then he looks at me, and I get the impression that he is speechless. That he doesn't know the words, the script, what's meant to happen now, or be said now.

Welcome to the club; my head is still stuck in denial land.

The silence extends, but I don't break the look. I might not have the words, but I search his look, knowing he's searching me. Silence is a scary thing. People move to fill it. I feel so jumpy I do it now.

'I kept this place.' I say.

He looks surprised that I spoke aloud. Then chuckles. The sound warm in the coldness that extends between us. 'Yeah, I can see that.' His look turns serious again as he glances around, his look coming to rest on me.

'I…I didn't know how to give it up.' I try.

His look is…well it's hard to explain. I know what it's not. I screamed at him for going to a casino. He just stands there patiently waiting for an explanation that I kept my apartment.

'I feel safe here.' I say lamely. Or it feels lame. It sends a spark of hurt through his eyes that almost make me flinch.

'I kept thinking the ceiling was going to fall down as we slept.' I try to explain.

He's still silent, waiting. And I know that now would be a good time to admit what's in my heart. Love is about being honest. And until this moment, (and yes, even with the apartment still in my name) I thought our relationship had honesty.

It kind of helps if I'd been honest, though, wouldn't it?

I want to now. I know it's the only way back from this dark place I'm currently residing in alone.

'It felt all…different. The house. All the building work. We don't even have a bed!' I know he knows this, but I don't know how to explain how I'm feeling any better. And I know I need for him to understand how I feel. To understand me. It's only fair that he knows.

'I came here.' I said, probably unnecessary. My eyes dart around the apartment as I try to put emotions into words I don't have in my vocab. 'I haven't slept in three days, though. I don't feel safe here anymore. It's got proper doors and windows, hot water, but I don't feel safe anymore!' My voice is getting a little hysterical now, as I try and make sense of my emotions, to try and understand that how I, Sara Sidle, can't feel safe alone anymore.

Warrick takes a single step towards, me, his hands by his sides, his eyes on me.

I take a breath, force it out.

'It's okay at work. I know what I'm doing.' I start again. 'But it's all changed suddenly, and I don't know where I'm meant to be anymore, and when I'm not with you, I feel so alone, but when I'm there, I don't know what's going to happen anymore, and then…' I take another breath, as he takes another step, listening to me carefully.

'I'm scared.' I finally say aloud, and the relief it brings is so strong, so sudden that it catches my by surprise. I have to say it again to believe that I did say it out loud. 'I'm scared.'

He takes another step, getting into my personal space, soothing my heart's need to have him here with me. He stops, as I look up into his eyes.

'I don't know what's going on anymore, and I don't want to feel like this, and I need you, Warrick, I need you to hold me, to take it all away.' I blab, the tears hot and strong now, as two arms encircle me, holding me tight, holding me close so that I can hear his heartbeat in my ear, so that I can feel him next to me. 'I love you Warrick, why am I so scared of this?' I whisper as I close my eyes, breathe him in, my legs suddenly collapsing under me as I dissolve into sobs.

He lowers me to the floor, sits and holds me, still not speaking, letting his actions soothe me better than words then. I probably wouldn't be able to hear him over the sobbing anyway.

He waits till I'm quiet, before he sits me up slightly, not letting go, just looking at me. 'You probably won't believe that I haven't slept in three days either.' He starts. I see tears shining in his eyes, and feel bad that I'm hurting him. 'And that I'm scared as well. The house doesn't feel like a home at the moment. It's a wreck. And as much as I can talk about what it will be, I still doubt. And I need you. I'm scared of how much I do need you, how much I want you. I thought I'd be ok with how much you work, but I'm not. I want to be with you, it's as simple as that.'

I've never seen him cry before. Didn't really think he'd be capable of it. Too laid back for the gravity to work on the tears.

'We're a right pair, aren't we?' I sniff.

He laughs.

'We can work through this, Sara. I know it's all sudden, but it just feels so right. Ok, the house feels like a bombsite, but being with you, I never doubted that. I never doubted that I love you.'

'I didn't either.' I whisper. 'I'm just scared.'

'And that's ok. Scared we can work on. I'm sorry that I went to a casino.'

I shrug. 'I know you are. I wasn't really angry about that. I'm sorry I kept this place.' I tell him.

'Fancy going shopping?' I look up at him, at the question. We're in the middle of a heart to heart and he wants to go shopping?

'We need a bed.' He tells me, standing up, pulling me up as well. I laugh then, as I nod, a smile on my lips.

He catches me, there in the middle of my old apartment, his arms around my waist one thumb idly slipping through a belt loop of my jeans. 'This is gonna take time, working out how to live together, how to balance it out. But time is on our side. We just have to learn to talk without yelling.' He says with a ghost of a smile. I manage a nod.

'I never want to have to go through three days of torture again.'

'Why are you so good to me?' I wonder aloud.

'It's called love.' He answers simply.