CHAPTER TWO: The Drug of Silence.

December 31, 2008.

Chuck sat on the stairs, looking at the pile of suitcases blankly. His face was distorted in the reflection from the carefully stacked shiny metal briefcases that sat away from the leather shoulder bag. Sarah had up early this morning, making multiple phone calls in her office, it was actually the second bedroom, muffled and low enough to escape his hearing as he lay in bed recovering from his hangover. He wasn't in a fit state to drive last night; Sarah had to drive her husband home because he had had too much to drive safety. Now it was 12.30pm, and she was leaving the next morning… on New Year's Day.

He'd start the New Year without her. She'd leave him behind.

Their bedroom that sat at the top of the stairs had remained off limits to him ever since he'd slept in and got out of bed to get lunch- she said he'd just get in the way of her packing. His computer was in there so he would have to use his Ipad.

Chuck never did anything serious with the Ipad, his home computer had all the backup files in case the system crashed and died at work. The Ipad was used for entertainment purposes only, whether he would watch and movie or listen to music he'd download. With his bedroom out of bounds then he couldn't work on problems that his business kept throwing at him. Instead he would just have to waste the day slumped in his armchair surfing the internet. Chuck loved his armchair, it was so comfy, and it was a bit tattered. It looked out of place in this sparsely decorated open-plan apartment, furniture modern enough to offset the rather antique walls, door handles and dark, pitted wooden floors.

It was one of his first victories over Sarah once they got together, she didn't want the armchair, Chuck had owned it for years, and Sarah didn't want it in their apartment. It clashed with everything but Chuck held firm and eventually got his way. Somehow he seemed to lose every disagreement since.

Occasionally he would lift his gaze and check out the room. His eyes lingered on the framed picture sitting alone amidst the other family photos including Ellie and Devon. A small smile curved his lips as he looked at his own face grinning broadly back at him while Sarah ducked under his attempted half-successful bear hug. One of his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, the other held high by Sarah, her expression surprised at his ability to creep up behind her. She looked so happy and young, her face glowing.

This whole day, she'd run around him, with not a word, as if he was invisible. He'd caught a strange kind of anticipation on her face, as she read a thin, perfectly smooth sheet of A4 that had arrived by courier that morning, in a blue and yellow satchel.

The clicking footsteps behind him stopped, and she walked down the stairs wearing her high heals, the vibrations from her weight shaking his body a little. At the bottom of the stairs, she looked around, counting off a list in her head. Her unfocused eyes sharpened again, and he guessed she'd reached the end of her tasks, with only one box unchecked in the column.

Him.

She jerked her head towards the kitchen, her words clipped, "Dinner?"

Chuck stared at her wordlessly before getting up, descending the stairs and joining her in the kitchen, he follow her lead as she picked up pots and pans.

"What are we making?" he asked lightly, at an attempt of levity.

"Chicken fettuccini."

He just nodded, and gathered the ingredients, moving easily through the kitchen as she did her own thing. Although they weren't talking, it didn't mean they weren't married, and three years of marriage taught them both about each other— allowing them to work around each other effortlessly.

Reaching up over her head as she stood at the sink, running water covering any sound he made, he scrabbled for a packet of pasta, trying to stand tall enough to peer over the bottom of the cupboard and simultaneously trying to keep his body from brushing hers.

"Woah!" he exclaimed as he caught himself, before realizing her hand was on his chest for balance, her other hand holding a pot filled with sloshing water as she turned around before he could retreat. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at him.

The moment was almost electric, and Chuck didn't know whether the energy crackling around them was anger or tension as he stared back at her, confused at the stormy blue of her irises.

Clang.

He barely paid attention to the dampness that seeped into his socks and trousers, too busy trying not to fall over at her weight on him, her hands in his hair, cupping his cheeks, moving to his belt, her lips almost vicious as she practically devoured him, she was everywhere, clouding his senses pleasantly.

Her skin under her loose shirt was almost like water in a desert, and his nerves tingled in welcome at the familiar terrain that it had been deprived of so long. Any hesitation slipped from his mind as he gripped her hips with his fingers, caressing as she moved against him.

Sarah's soft panting brushed against his chin every time she breathed out, and she let out a little noise when he gave her a boost, her legs wrapping around his waist firmly as he stood by the kitchen bench.

She was not gentle at all, and as always, she was in control, as he attacked her neck with the same ferociousness she paid to his clothes.

In the morning, all he'd remember would be the way she moaned when he drove into her with aggression unlike him, the way her hips pressed back against him as he pumped into her as he bent her over the bench. The slapping sound they made every time they met and the way she sighed and moaned until he climaxed into her. Sarah didn't come, Sarah never climaxed.

Chuck swung away to capture his breath, Sarah simply pulled up her panties and then pulled her hemline down and then returned to preparing their dinner.

They didn't have sex after dinner nor did they when they went to bed. They had spent the night sleeping back to back as far away from each other as their bed would physically allow. Not that Chuck had tried. He remembered the time when he was in the mood but she wasn't. His advances where brutally rejected. He had rolled on top of her and was trying to kiss her, but she jabbed him by driving both thumbs into his lower ribcage causing immense pain causing him to rear up onto his knees. Sarah then used her free leg to kick him hard in the midriff causing him to fly backwards off the bed and onto the floor. She also severely winded him, as he was struggling for breath she jumped up and stormed out of the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. It was only three days later when Ellie came to visit that they started speaking to one another again. The incident in the bedroom was never talked about and Chuck never tried to initiate sex with her again.

It was past 7 am when he awoke, eyes bleary and his senses telling him already that he was in bed alone. The house was very quiet, the shower wasn't on, and he had continued sleeping if it not been rudely awaken by the slamming of the door as she left for business trip.

Happy New Year, he wished himself, as he rolled out of bed to find his shirt missing. She always did that, steal the shirt he'd been wearing the day before. It had his sweat on it and probably needed washing.

Other than that, the room was untouched; there was no goodbye note, no "P.S. I love you", or anything that would prove there had been another living, breathing human in the house just the day before.

Not a word of when she'd be back from Berlin, or how to contact her whilst she was away.

Chuck knew he'd try her office anyway. He just couldn't help himself sometimes. He believed their relationship was broken, knew it was so far gone it was beyond words. But he couldn't help himself; maybe it was wishful thinking that her attitude would change if he tried hard enough, or if he laboriously mended one broken bridge even while a couple more crumbled away as he did so.

He just couldn't give up on her.

A marriage counsellor would gently advise him to find a divorce lawyer, but maybe it was vain hope, selfishness, or memories of the past that refused to leave him alone, that prevented him from doing so. Chuck could admit he had abandonment issues stemming from his absent parents and he dreaded the thought of being alone. Far better to be miserable than to be isolated from humanity.

Maybe he was delusional, what his parents did was inexcusable, the past was the past, and it was unlikely their future would look anything like it. But it was so fresh, and thinking about it still caused emotion to choke up, so much so that he was unwilling to let it slip away.

He justified it with the rare times she would ask about his company, when she'd take his hand just before knocking on the door to Ellie's house, and when she was in an especially good mood—the chaste kiss she would lay on his lips, just enough for him to want more.

And now, every time he tried to think about the wealth of memories of their past, preciously locked away in the chest that was his heart, they were always weighed down and tainted with tears.

His phone rang beside him, clattering over the table as it vibrated, and it made him jump in surprise.

"Ellie?" he asked, wincing at the hoarseness in his voice.

Ellie's cheerfully proclaimed him a Happy New Year, and Chuck, trying to inject some spirit into his tone, responded likewise. "Happy New Year, sis," he said, almost feeling Ellie's smile over the line. "Tell Devon the same when he gets out of the shower for me."

Ellie babbled on for a moment before she paused, and Chuck knew she instinctively found something off with him.

"Is Sarah there?" she asked. "I want to wish her a Happy New Year too!"

"No," he said slowly. "She left early this morning to fly to Berlin."

His sister was silent for a moment, and he felt a sliver of foreboding. "On New Year's Day?" She asked cautiously.

"Yeah," he said, trying to slip into some boxers as he answered. "She got texted the other night before the party."

There was a hint of concern in her voice as she replied, "And she didn't tell us?"

Chuck could sense she was a little hurt, but more confused than the former.

"Well, I don't think she wanted to spoil the festivities," he said, trying to cover for Sarah. "She'll be back soon."

I think.

He sat down again, voice muffled as he fell back onto the bed, face first, "Ellie –" he started, knowing she was about to give him a lecture.

She didn't let him complete the sentence, but to his surprise, she didn't accuse him.

"Chuck," she said, that motherly, patronizing tone in her voice, and she sighed. "This isn't good for you, your marriage, or for both of you for that matter…she spends more time on her business trips than she manages to spend home with you here in California!"

"I know," he said, trying to placate her. "Look, it means a lot to her, okay? I don't want to hold her back, Ellie."

"Charles Bartowski," Ellie intoned, "I'm your sister, I watch out for you…" he could almost picture her holding up her hand to fend off his imaginary protests, "…even though you're twenty-nine and married."

She paused again, as if she were thinking, gearing herself up for something she didn't want to admit.

"I see the way you two act around each other, and I know you're having problems," she said in a long breath, "Do you even know exactly what she does over there, Chuck?"

He honestly has no idea what she gets up to so he replied "Her job!"

His sharp comment shut down Ellie's line of thought; he didn't want her to worry. She had to be healthy and happy during her pregnancy, for the baby at least. She needed to live her life, enjoy her own happiness, rather than worry what her little brother's situation.

Ellie let out a disappointed sigh. "Just try and work it out, please. If you're not going forward, you're not going anywhere, as my sage husband always says."

"Alright, El," he said, saying it to please her, "I'll try."

"That's all I ask." She clearly didn't believe him, and he'd be hearing more of that later. "I just want you, and Sarah, to be happy."

Chuck allowed a smile to cross his face fondly. "So do I. Thanks Ellie. You always say the right thing."

She laughed. "Love you, Chuck. I'm always here for you." She sighed again, but then changed the subject brightly.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, alright, would you like me to bring a friend? I'll see if Bryce is available."

Sarah could see herself blowing out a breath because of the frigid air in Washington. She had a carry-on bag slung over her shoulder, her company driver had her suitcase on a trolley as they walked to the car.

Sitting in the passenger seat, she looked out at the grey buildings, at the grey footpath and the grey asphalt of the road. She had a pair of dark sunglasses to reduce the glare to her eyes even though the day was quite gloomy.

Hello, Washington, she thought dryly as she arrived at her hotel.