Even Lovers Drown

Silverware clicked against ceramic plates, a light chiming noise that filled the silence over the dinner table. Saylor watched Katie devour the spaghetti she made, waiting for any mention of less-than-appetizing taste. But it didn't come. Instead, Katie ate with quick bites and didn't say a word to Saylor, a sign that the meal was acceptable, good even. After her failed attempt at making decent lasagna for lunch, a meal that ended up on the wall in Katie's anger, the apparently good meal raised Saylor's spirits. Even her plain lettuce leaves, the same thing she had eaten for the past weeks and would eat until she was skinny enough for Katie's liking, didn't bring down her mood.

Content, she ate her bland salad. Her bites were slow, an attempt to make the salad last. Trick her stomach into believing it was full, that was the key to keeping up with her strict food plan and her slow bites were the best way to do that. The small amounts she took in were accepted greedily. A silent rumble demanded she eat faster. She didn't listen to her stomach's plea, continuing at her slow pace. Her ten pound loss over the week would not be ruined because her stomach told her she was hungry.

Her weight loss went unnoticed by Katie. She never got affirmation that she was making progress, that she was close to Katie's imagined weight goal. But Katie would notice if she gained weight and she would be furious. How Katie's anger would drive her actions was hard to figure out. Yelling was inevitable but what followed was always a mystery. An inanimate object could suffer her wrath, get thrown across the room, get broken, or get punched. Or Saylor could be the one to face Katie's terrifying fury. A slap, a kick, a punch, a full out explosion of anger that would leave her body bruised and shaking. Dull pain still hummed through her ribcage from the last set of hits she took days ago.

Saylor deserved it. Every time she was hit, she had done something wrong, something Katie forbade her from doing, and if she had done as Katie wanted, she wouldn't have been hit. She brought the beatings onto herself by making Katie angry. Any bruise, cut, or scar was her fault. Katie punished her the only way she could for Saylor to learn from her mistakes. Saylor understood, and she took every hit with the least amount of whiny yelps of pain as she could. Katie didn't like those.

She couldn't tell anyone about the things that happened behind closed doors. No one would understand. And she didn't have friends to tell anyway. Not anymore. Over the course of their relationship, Saylor hadn't seen her friends, had been cut off all contact with them because Katie didn't trust them. But if she did have friends, she wouldn't tell them. They wouldn't understand that she did deserve to get hit, that she was kept in place that way, and they would try to separate her from Katie, the only woman who would ever love her. No one else would ever take the time to look past her unattractive features to be in a relationship with her. She wasn't good enough for Katie, yet Katie found compassion in her heart for her. Enough to love her, to tell her truthfully how she looked, to be with her when she could have anyone else. Saylor couldn't lose Katie. She didn't want to be alone.

But it did hurt her not to be able to talk to her family. In the year she and Katie had been together, she had lost contact with them, just as she had lost contact with her friends. She hadn't called them, hadn't visited them, because she couldn't. They didn't even know she dropped out of college. She wanted to see them. A year separated was too long.

Saylor looked at Katie, who was elegantly shoving the remnants of her spaghetti into her mouth. Maybe now was a good time to ask. Katie was satisfied, full. A gorgeous smile graced her plump lips as she ate. Happiness glinted in her eyes, making the sapphire blues more gorgeous that Saylor thought possible. She would ask and hope for the best.

"Baby," Saylor said, her voice the usual timid tone she had grown accustomed to using.

Katie's captivating blue eyes met her green ones, an acknowledgment that she spoke. For a moment, Saylor didn't want to ask for fear of disrupting Katie's good mood. But she had to. She couldn't lose her family the same way she lost her friends.

"Um, I was wondering if I could visit my family soon."

"Excuse me?" Katie asked.

Her intoxicating voice was deadpan, no emotion designating which way the conversation would go. Even less was shown in her calm blue eyes. The dangerous time bomb in her head could have been ticking or she could have just been waiting for an explanation to the sudden request.

Well," Saylor said, deciding to take the chance for her family, keeping her tone docile. "I haven't talked to them in awhile. It'd be nice to go see them."

"You want to leave me to go see your family?"

Still deadpan. No rise or fall to her voice, nothing but tranquility in those blue eyes. It was almost unnerving, almost enough for her to retract her question. This was important to her though. This was about her mother, her father, her half-brother. This was about the people who helped her through everything as a child.

"You can come, too. Mom and dad would love to see you again. And Davy might be home from tour, so you could meet him."

Katie had met her parents once. Long ago when they were just friends. Not close friends, not really even friends, more like acquaintances that happened to have some mutual friends. One of those mutual friends gave Katie the extra ticket to the concert in Saylor's home town. They stayed at her parents' house, and her parents fell in love with the polite, sweet, absolutely precious Katie.

"No," Katie said, standing with her empty plate and walking to the stove for another serving.

Saylor turned to look at her. "But—"

"No," Katie cut her off.

"Baby, please."

"No."

Katie scrapped noodles out of the pot, and Saylor watched, her lips parted in shock. Hopelessness sunk into her veins, depressing and heavy. Would she ever see her family or would Katie always tell her she couldn't? No, Saylor couldn't live like that. She needed to be firm about this. Her family mattered to her.

Saylor stood and walked to Katie's side, stopping a far enough distance away to keep from intruding on her personal space. Ringing her hands, she said, "But I haven't seen them in so long. I miss them."

"I don't care," Katie said. Her enchanting blue eyes shot from the pan to Saylor. Anger simmered in them, ready to flourish into full rage. But her voice remained deadly calm. "I can't skip school and work to see your family. Someone has to pay the bills. And you're not going by yourself."

The age old accusation, the one that Katie pulled out anytime Saylor asked to go places. Saylor knew she should give in, let the question go and let Katie have her way. The warning was there in her eyes, the calm tone, and the accusation that filled her words. But she couldn't.

"I won't cheat on you," Saylor said, a desperate tinge to her otherwise passive voice. "I love you."

"You're not going."

"Can't I at least ca—"

A fist collided with Saylor's jaw, sending her to the harsh tile floor. Her side and hands stung from the collision, and her jaw scorched with pain. On shaking arms, she pushed her body upright. Cradling her jaw with one hand, she looked up at Katie. The blue eyes set in a violent glare and ridged body told her she wasn't done yet and sparked intense fear through her veins. Saylor should have left the subject alone at the first tranquil "no," shouldn't have pushed for the right to see her family.

"Can't you stop being such a difficult bitch?" Katie yelled. A sharp kick in Saylor's stomach accented the question, forcing her to double over under the pain. "You don't need them," Katie continued, "you need me." She paused, running a hand through her hair in frustration. Voice filled with malice, she said, "If you visit them, I'm leaving. You can find someone else who will put up with your bratty attitude. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Saylor mumbled.

"Your parents don't want to see you anyway. Why would they? They don't love you, I do."

"I love you, too."

Gentle nudges disrupted Saylor's dream world. Her eyes snapped open, her heart beat at a quickened tempo against her ribcage. Light streamed through the windows, illuminating the van and telling Saylor it had all been another nightmare. Davy leaning over the back of the middle seat, his tender hand on her shoulder, his green eyes staring at her with concern, calmed her anxiety till it hummed faintly in her veins

"You were having a nightmare," Davy whispered, keeping his voice low to keep the merch girls in the front seats from hearing.

Days into tour and the continual stream of nightmares that threw her off before her day could start had yet to be broken. She didn't know how she would last, if she would last, for the rest of touring. These couldn't keep happening, but she didn't know how to stop them without losing sleep.

"Thanks," Saylor mumbled.

For waking her, for being there to calm her nerves, for caring enough not to make a big deal out of her nightmare. Thanks didn't seem like enough.

He smiled, the contagious expression spreading to Saylor's face. "That's what I'm here for. We're stopping for lunch soon. Breakfast is a bag of chips if you want some."

"Sounds fantastic," Saylor said. Pausing, an idea flashed in her mind, a way to keep the memories from bombarding her in her sleep-weakened state. "Can we pick up some energy drinks from the next gas station?"

Avoid sleep to avoid nightmares. Not the best plan, but it would work for the night at the very least.