Nate excelled at epic meltdowns.

Cassie knew that about him, she had experienced his sudden bursts of anger, his uncontrollable rage, his rollercoaster of emotions. She knew what happened when she poked the bear.

She felt the air leave her lungs as his hand wrapped around her arm to pull her into their home, her body pushing the pram forward and her feet tangling underneath her. Had it not been for his tight grip she probably would have gone flying- but also, had it not been for his sudden tug, she would have walked in just fine.

Just keep calm, she repeated to herself, you did nothing wrong.

"I was at the mall, I'm so sorry my phone died- but I found an outfit for the party. Want to see it?" She asked him with fake excitement and a smile, hoping to detonate the ticking bomb standing in front of her. Act like nothing's wrong and everything will be okay, that was her life mantra after all.

"Do you have any idea how many fucking times I called you, texted you? Huh?" He repeated, his tone angrier and his grip tight around her arm. "I was shopping." He mimicked her voice, before releasing the hold on her arm. "Meanwhile, I'm here thinking the worst and my wife is out shopping."

He raises his voice, he moves his arms around, he unravels before her like many times before.

Cassie knows this version of Nate far too well.

But before either of them was able to continue this car crash of a conversation, their son chose to make his presence known with a startling cry that rivalled his own father's loud lungs. Cassie was not sure if Harvey could sense the tension in the room or if it was a lucky coincidence this blowout coincided with his feeding, but she had never been so happy to hear him cry.

"Let me feed him first, okay?." She explained, taking their son out of his pram, whose cries seemed so much more distressed than normal, and placing him in Nate's arms. "I'm sorry for making you worry, baby, but you need to calm down a little."

Just keep calm, she kept reminding herself.

Cassie could feel Nate's loud footsteps following her into the kitchen, his eyes burning a hole in her head as she moved around the space to heat up a bottle for Harvey. She could faintly hear his voice over Harvey's cries as Nate continued his angry tirade against her, suddenly questioning why she was preparing a bottle for their son.

Up until now, she had been exclusively breastfeeding, but their upcoming party plus Cassie's desire to have some independence meant she had introduced the occasional bottle of pumped milk. Both father and son had been a little apprehensive about this change, Harvet not being the biggest fan of the rubber nipple and Nate not being a fan of change or Cassie's life revolving around anything other than her boys.

Still, her and Marsha had persevered and finally gotten Harvey to take a bottle every once in a while. Not always, as she loved the bond they had developed through breastfeeding.

"The party is in two days, I'm just trying to get him accustomed to it so he doesn't give your Mom a hard time while we're out." Nate's harsh stare pierced into her as she tested the milk temperature on her hand before taking Harvey back to feed him. "Right, bubba? Are you going to be a good boy for Mimi?"

"Stop lying to me." His voice cut through her like a sharp knife. "What the fuck were you doing all afternoon? Who were you with?" This Nate is jealous, this Nate is terrified at the idea of her having a life outside of the reality he has created for her, for them.

"Nate- stop, okay? I told you, I went shopping and I had a glass of champagne. That's it!" Her voice exasperated, her head pounding too hard, her heart beating too fast.

"Ohhh, I see. Here I am worrying you might be dead or something and you're out shopping and getting drunk in front of our son?" He shouted.

"Are you serious? I had one glass of champagne…how many times have you had alcohol with Harvey around?"

"When I am alone with him? Never. I would never do that, Cassie." Cassie could feel her own anger rising at his hypocrisy.

"That's convenient for you to say…you're never alone with him! I am a person too, Nate. I deserve time for myself too!" She shouted, her anger bubbling over. "Am I not allowed to do anything for myself?"

"Here we go again. Your life is just so hard Cassie, isn't it? Dropping a couple of grand on clothes, like you're the one working every day, and then complaining about having to feed our son. What? You're so fucking lazy you don't even want to do that anymore. How about you go fucking work for once, huh? See how fun that is…"

"Fuck you!" She yelled back, before throwing Harvey's almost empty bottle at Nate and storming out of the room. "Your daddy is an asshole…" She told their son, loud enough for Nate to hear

"That's really nice, Cassie." he said with no humour. "Really fucking mature of you!" She heard him yell behind her, his voice followed by the noise of glass shattering and his fist punching the wall.

Big fat drops fall out of her eyes as she rocks her son to sleep. She almost wants him to stay awake so she has an excuse to not face Nate, an excuse to hide out in Harvey's room.

Except Nate follows her there.

They're quiet as she manages to rest Harvey in his crib.

Post-destruction, post typhoon, post earthquake.

That eerie quietness as dust settles around you and you take in all the ruins of what used to be buildings, home, safety.

Rubble.

Dust.

Smoke.

That was what their heaving chests felt like. Their laboured breaths, their dry mouths, their blotchy skin.

As their venomous words sunk in, Cassie had waved her white flag in the form of:

"We can't keep doing this…"

Her words were barely above a whisper, but heavy enough to reach Nate's ears and tug on his heart.

"I know.."

He conceded, before closing the physical gap between them and embracing her tired body.

In that moment, as his arms enclosed her body, a mixture of comfort and a cage, Cassie wondered at what point one of them would say enough. And which one of them would take that step.

What would it take to finally admit defeat?

She files those thoughts in the part of her brain housing the large collection of doubts about her marriage, with its vault like secrecy. They're doubts she could never say out loud, or share with another human, the mere thought of them being uttered making them much too real.

Instead, the two of them eat their dinner in an awkward silence.

The chicken was dry and overcooked and unappetising- not that Cassie had any appetite left by then. Her stomach in knots, worried over her relationship, over what would happen if Nate knew who she had spent the day with.

She imagines his reaction to be much worse than this afternoon, the idea she had gone behind his back and established a relationship with two people he would not approve of. Nate would take it as so much more personal than that, he would see it as her being disloyal, in proving him right in not giving her any freedom, in justifying his paranoia.

Like she would, or could, ever go anywhere.

It puts her in a tough spot, because as much as she wants to fight back and stand up for herself, she also does not want to dwell on her whereabouts that afternoon.

They make love that night.

Except it feels like anything but loving.

It's rough, and harsh, and fast.

It feels fucking good and fucking uncomfortable at the same time. Like their relationship.

Pleasure and pain.

When they fight, when Nate feels insecure about their relationship, he expresses those uncertainties during sex. She can feel his need to regain control in the depth of his thrusts, in the strength of his hold, in the sting of his bites. His eyes constantly searching her face for proof of her pain- a tear, a gasp, a wince.

Like he wants her to hurt.

He wants her to hurt as much as he hurts everyday he remembers who he is.

And Cassie wonders what part of her brain is so scrambled to make her orgasm the best during these sessions. Why did she hate herself that much?

"Promise me…" he would taunt, sometimes pushing too deep and others leaving her on the brink of pleasure, "promise me you would never even look at another guy."

"I p-p-promise." her voice shakes, as her hand moves to grip his thigh, as her legs lock behind him, trying to pull him closer.

"No one could ever make you feel as good as I do," his voice would whisper in her ear. "Or fuck you like I do."

"No one." She would follow suit.

And neither of them are lying.

Despite their ups and down, she knew from their first hook up that her body belonged to him. She finds his jealousy so silly, she would never want another man. Not out of fear, like Nate hoped, but simply because she had no interest in anyone other than him. She was completely obsessed with him.

His jealousy is suffocating and reassuring at the same time, she loves the thought of him wanting her all for himself, of the thought of her being with someone else driving him insane. She loves feeling his love.

When he finally falls asleep, their fussy son keeps her up instead. Cassie wonders if this is her punishment for dragging him into this secret, as she barely manages to sleep for more than two consecutive hours. Her head hurts, her body aches, her spirit feels defeated. Her body is littered with bruises, some little and some big, from sex with Nate. She's tired.

And while their fight is not discussed again the next day, the tension still feels palpable in the air. And Nate barely acknowledges her presence around the house.

He probably wants her to grovel, to beg, to try anything to get him to say more than two words to her.

But she doesn't.

Think I forgot how to be happy

Something I'm not, but something I can be

Something I wait for

Something I'm made for