The day had gone south, there was no denying it.
Credit where credit is due: Rick had tried to keep them from this nose-dive, tried to keep things light. He put on some music, even sang along to songs he knew she liked as they decorated their reheated pancakes with fresh fruit and syrup. As they ate, he read out highlights from the paper and joked about the Yankees and Reds game that she knew he hadn't seen. But, he was trying.
Unfortunately for him, Kate just couldn't shake the feeling that had settled deep in her core. It was a feeling she couldn't describe any more accurately than bad. It wasn't any of the usual suspects: fear, frustration, sadness. Sure, those feelings may have been a very small part of whatever this was but there was something more there; something troubling.
It wasn't a sense of inadequacy, she knew that was more than adequate. Rick was down bad for her, of that she had no doubt in her mind. And because of that confidence, she knew it wasn't jealousy either.
It could have been confusion because this was certainly something she did not understand. Why would Rick - a smart, attractive, successful man who could have any woman he wanted - risk complicating and already complicated family dynamic by having a casual, sexual relationship with Meredith? Not only that; the woman had cheated on him! Was he really that desperate for intimacy that he'd so willingly bypass self respect in favour of sex? He doesn't even get along with her; every interaction Kate had witnessed between the two had been tense to say the least. But then again, perhaps that was sexual tension she had been picking up on.
She tried to move past that line of thought - because, surely he had his reasons for going back, for being her toy (as he had so casually put it) - but it was futile. She had gone down the rabbit hole.
Her toy... Kate didn't even want to think about the connotations of that statement. Was the sex really so good that he was willing to ignore the fact that he so obvious despised the woman?
Maybe that was it, maybe he didn't despise her at all. Maybe he loved her, like he had before she had hurt him. Maybe the arguing, the insistence that she drove him insane, the lovemaking disguised as hate sex was all just a way to keep his heart safe, to spare himself the heartache of history repeating itself.
Denial. That was something she understood all too well.
She knew this horrible feeling wasn't confusion at all. No, what she was feeling was more akin to hopelessness. Like there was an inevitability here. Like she was just destined to be the girl who fell for unattainable guys. Like she was just the time-killer they would pretend they could love until they decided their ex-wives weren't actually all that bad.
And, oh God, what did that say about her?
"You okay, Kate?" he asked.
She snapped out of the war zone that was her own mind and looked at him with a forced smile. "Yeah."
He wasn't buying it, not even for a second.
"You're upset."
She knew there was no point in denying it: she had been caught in a train wreck of thoughts since his well-intentioned, guerilla-attack of a confession knocked her off balance and she knew her internal conflict must have been written all over her face. Yes, she was upset. But she didn't want to be.
"For Alexis." She offered the part-truth with a nonchalant shrug and hoped he would let this rest.
He smiled at her, a genuine smile that told her how grateful he was that she cared.
But his eyes searched hers for the full truth; his eyes knew she was holding back.
She leant her elbows on the table and brought her hands together before scratching compulsively at the chipped polish of her nails, watching flecks of Almost Nude lacquer flutter to the tabletop. Anything to avoid his studying eyes.
"Did you want to talk about... anything?" he asked.
No fucking way, her mind screamed. She just shook her head.
"Kate," he sighed.
"I'm fine, Rick." She made a point of looking up at him, forcing that same unconvincing smile. "Really."
His phone buzzed against the table and she was thankful for the distraction, but Rick didn't look away. He held her gaze for long, scrutinizing seconds and she was sure he wasn't going to relent. Then, with a sigh, he picked up his phone and dropped his eyes to the incoming message.
Kate took a breath and leant back against the dining chair.
"Back to the original plan," he announced, then dropped his phone back down onto the table. "Alexis is going to stay with Meredith."
She could hear the mistrust in his voice; the doubt that sounded an awful lot like fear. Her heart hurt for him: she couldn't imagine what it must be like to have to stand by and watch, time and time again, as the person you loved most got her heart broken by someone she should be able to rely on. To watch Alexis forgive and forget - and act like that was easy to do - purely because she so desperately wanted a relationship with her own mother.
"You think she's going to bail again?" Kate tried to pose the statement as a question, tried to remove the judgemental tone from her voice.
She didn't know Meredith; it wasn't her place to pass judgement on the woman. However, given the little bits of information she did know - and the very few interactions she had seen first hand - she really wouldn't be surprised if Alexis came rushing through that door again, wiping away her tears.
Sometimes it's easier to expect disappointment.
"I don't think so," Rick answered after a beat. But it was obvious that even he didn't believe his words. "I mean, I hope not... for Alexis' sake. The girl might seem like a saint but she's got her limits."
He laughed, tried to play it off as one big joke but his pain was still so evident. Frustration, disappointment. It was obvious that he wanted Meredith to be better: a better person, a better mother. As much as she tried not to, Kate couldn't help but wonder if maybe he wanted Meredith to be better for him, too.
And that bad feeling roared inside her.
Kate cleared her throat. "What did you have planned for today?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.
It was a change Rick welcomed.
"I didn't really have a plan, was just going to take it day-by-day, see how you felt," he explained. "Do you feel like doing something?"
She shrugged, so he continued.
"We could go out-"
"And be stared at by the masses because I look like Frankenstein's Monster," she grumbled to herself.
"Firstly; thank you for saying Frankenstein's Monster and not Frankenstein. It drives me crazy when people confuse the two because, like, did you even read the book? Secondly; that's an insult to Frankenstein's Monster," he teased.
Kate looked at Rick, completely taken aback by the comment, and scoffed. But his plan - or, what she could only assume was his plan - had worked. He had shocked her right out of her head space.
She laughed - a genuine laugh - and shook her head.
"Dick," she muttered under her breath.
But the air between them was lighter, the tension dissipated and that bad feeling that had felt like a roaring wildfire in her core had dulled to a much more easily controlled blaze.
"Plenty more books to read," Rick suggested.
Kate looked across to the bookshelf partitions of his office, then back to Rick. "And what will you do?"
"I can read."
"Well, I would hope so: I'd say your career is dependent on the fact."
"Oh, har-har! She has jokes," he whined, but the smile on his face was bright. "Should've been a comedian."
With a smile on her face she rose from the table and made her way across to his office. He followed, and watched her as she scanned the titles for her next literary adventure.
"No poetry today?" he asked as she wandered away from the poetic, historic and romantic shelves.
She stood with her hands on her hips. "I'm thinking... murder mystery."
"One week off work and you're already missing it that much?" he commented with a smirk.
"Just craving a story of substance," she responded with a hint of flirtation. But in an instant, he was crushed. "You do have Patterson, right?"
He fake laughed and she grabbed a copy of Kill Me If You Can.
"The couch?" she asked as she hugged the book to her chest.
"Wherever you're comfortable." Rick walked to his desk and picked up his laptop. "I might do some writing, actually. You know, deadlines and such."
"I get to see you in action?" she asked, buzzing with excitement that he couldn't quite tell if it were genuine or if she was just trying to be playful.
"I assure you it's nothing exciting," he informed her. "You get to see me stare frustratedly at my screen. There might be a short burst of inspiration here and there... if I'm lucky."
Kate smiled. "I thought writing this story was as important as breathing," she teased, recalling Alexis' dramatic explanation.
Rick opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out a small pile of envelopes. "It is. However... my prison pen-pal is taking his sweet time replying to my letters so it's like very slow breathing."
"Where is he? Five Points?"
"Sing Sing."
"So, he's local." Kate's brow creased as she lost herself in thought. "Could you interview him, rather than writing back and forth? Would save you some time."
Rick sighed. "Yeah, I tried. Turns out he's not one for visitors."
"Damn."
"I know, right. But that's okay, I've plenty I can do while I wait, he's already given me a tonne of information-" He waved the pile of letters in front of him. "to work with. I just need to actually work with it."
"I will stop distracting you, then," Kate announced.
She made her way to the couch, curled herself up in the corner she was claiming as hers and began to read the book she had selected. Rick made himself comfortable in his own corner and before long, the speedy click-clacking noises that had lured her from his bed just the other night were filling the room. She peeked over the top of her book to observe him; smiled to herself as she did.
The hours passed easily.
Kate was almost half-way through her book when she noticed Rick had been silent - no muttering to himself, no furiously tapping at his keyboard, nothing - for at least fifteen minutes now. She looked up from her book to see him staring blankly at his screen.
"Something wrong?" she asked him.
He looked up from his screen. "I, uh- No. No, nothing's wrong," he said.
But she was anything but reassured.
Kate closed the book and shifted closer. "Rick?"
"Remember how I kinda promised you that, outside of touring, I'm more or less left in peace by paparazzi?"
She felt her stomach drop and her heartbeat falter. "Yeah...?"
"It seems out furniture store outing was deemed newsworthy," he said almost apologetically.
He turned his laptop so that she could see the screen; her face wore a mask of nonchalance but her mind was a hurricane. Taking up almost half of his 15-inch screen was a too high definition photograph of the two of them in the furniture warehouse.
She could pinpoint the exact moment it must have been taken. They had spent the better part of twenty minutes bickering (much like an old married couple) about a console table she had spotted and instantly fallen in love with.
That's the ugliest thing I have ever seen, Rick had said, not even trying to hide his distaste for the piece. And, honestly, he wasn't wrong. It was, uh, an odd design - to say the least - with black, metal legs that resembled toddler's shaped stacking blocks. But that was what she loved about it; she had never seen anything quite like it. Ultimately she had decided she really didn't need it... but by the time they made it to the checkout counter to place her final order, she had changed her mind once again and added it, reminding Rick that he didn't have to love it. He simply shook his head but smiled, as if he loved her defiance. That had been the moment this photo had been snapped: he and Kate stood at the counter, looking at one another with twin smiles on their faces.
Unfortunately, the otherwise cute moment wasn't enough to detract her attention from the intensity of her bruising. "I should have worn a hat or something," she mumbled to herself.
Rick heard the comment; chose to ignore it.
"We're moving in together, apparently."
Kate's eyes scanned the text beside the image: A writer and his muse, moving in!
"I see that," she commented with a smile. "I wish you had told me."
"To think you wasted all that time apartment hunting," he piled on with the shake of his head.
"Speaking of wasting time-" Kate tilted her head to study Rick's face. "Weren't you meant to be writing?" she asked.
Rick turned the laptop back around. "I was. I needed to look something up," he defended.
"And you just happened to stumble upon that article while... researching?"
"I opened the browser to a news page. I saw the photo of you and my curiosity got the better of me."
Kate stayed silent, studying him: she didn't buy it.
"Okay, maybe I saw something about my mystery woman and I went down a little bit of a rabbit hole," he confessed and Kate smiled victoriously. "I've been staring at this screen too long, I think." He closed the laptop and sat it on the coffee table. "I need a break."
Kate closed her book, too, and placed it on the arm of the couch. "What do you want to do?"
He looked around the loft, mentally compiling their options. "We could always watch another movie," he suggested.
But it was obvious in his voice that he wasn't sold on that idea and neither was she. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head.
"Okay. We could play a board game? I could totally kick your butt in a game of scrabble," he bragged. "Or cards? Poker?"
"You know what?" She moved across the couch, placed her hand over his knee. "Maybe going out isn't such a bad idea."
Rick gently brushed her hair off of her face and then let his hand fall to her waist. "You sure? I know going out yesterday kinda wore you out a bit."
Kate shrugged, tried to play it off as nothing to worry about but Rick's expression told her he wouldn't be convinced otherwise.
"We'll take it easy," she assured him. "I have somewhere I want to show you."
With that, she pushed herself up to her feet and walked toward the table where she had left her phone.
"Can you do another, say, half hour of writing while I make a few calls?" She called the question over her shoulder as she already started scrolling through her phone contacts.
Rick sighed and picked up his laptop. "I guess I could try, for you."
"Thank you," she replied to his sulking with a smile.