Even Lovers Drown

Muted sounds of running water beating against porcelain drifted from the bathroom. Blake's gentle hums accompanied the background noise, a melodious tune that tickled Saylor's ears. Under steaming water, she was oblivious to the conversation at hand, and she would remain oblivious while locked away in the shower. Until Saylor could get the nerve to confide in her the same way she would confide in Sage.

"How long do you think Blake will be in there?" Saylor asked, nodding to the shut door.

"I'd say awhile."

Saylor took a deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity in attempt to calm her racing mind. This was her only chance to speak to Sage alone about her past today, possibly her only chance for the rest of tour without pulling her away from her band mates and raising suspicion. And she needed to speak to her. Sage understood what she was going through. More than anyone else she knew.

"You promise not to tell Blake anything I tell you?"

She felt like a child ready to tell her friend a terrible secret, prepared to pinky swear to ensure it never hit anyone else's ears. But this was more serious than any secret she shamelessly told her friends underneath slides and behind jungle gyms.

"Blake wouldn't judge you," Sage said.

Of that much, Saylor was sure. If Blake stuck by Sage's side after finding out about her foster family, she would, most certainly, avoid passing judgment. Or, at the very least, she would avoid voicing her judgments.

Saylor's situation was different from Sage's, though. She hadn't been a child whose parents, whose protectors, turned on her. She had been a legal adult, living on her own because she felt she was old enough to make responsible decisions. The abuse could have, should have, been avoided. What would Blake possibly think of a grown woman allowing herself to be beaten by another? She had been weak, broken, nothing. Not good enough for someone of Blake's celebrity status, not good enough for any successful woman. Blake didn't need to be aware that.

"I'm just not ready for her to know yet."

Sage's shoulders lifted and fell in dainty shrug. "Then, I won't tell her."

"Thank you."

Silence wafted over them again. Sage watched Saylor, patiently awaiting her confession, and Saylor traced the floral pattern decorating the comforter, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Seconds stumbled by, minutes chased after, and the only noise to be heard was the running shower.

Sage sighed. "Blake won't be in there forever, Saylor."

She was right. Blake would eventually emerge from the shower, hair dripping wet, calming smile on her face, and their moment to speak would be lost.

"I know," Saylor mumbled.

But she said nothing more. Jumbled thoughts swirled her mind, pieces of information she could tell Sage. So many things she could reveal and she didn't know where to start.

Sage seemed to notice her dilemma, or perhaps remembered facing a similar mental struggle when confiding in her friends. She opened her mouth, not bothering to wait a beat for Saylor to add nonexistent words to her statement, and took control of the conversation.

"Okay." She pursed her lips, and then continued. "Was I right? Is what happened to you like what happened to me?"

Saylor resisted a relieved sigh. Sage would ask questions, and she would respond. Simple enough. Probably for the best even. The last time she had the conversation, she cried, mere droplets of tears that started while waiting for someone, anyone, to pick up the house phone and became full on sobs before her mother had the chance to say "Hello." Perhaps she could distance herself from the situation this time.

"Yes."

They were alike in a vaguest sense of the situation. Abuse was abuse. It may have taken different forms, been acted out by different people, resulted in different scars, but it was still abuse.

"I'm guessing your parents didn't do it," Sage said, "Mr. and Mrs. Jones are the sweetest people I've ever met."

"They would never do that."

Her parents rarely raised their voices, preferring stern talks and cutting looks as means of reprimanding their children. The discipline seemed lax to some but it was effective.

"So who did?"

"My girlfriend." Saylor shook her head. "Ex-girlfriend," she corrected. "She was very," she hesitated, searching for a word other than the inevitable. "Violent."

"Abusive" seemed such a harsh word, a word Saylor wasn't quite ready to say out loud. She hadn't used the damning adjective to talk about her relationship once. Not to her mother. Not to her father. Not to her therapist. Not to Davy. Her alternate explanations may not have been much better, but she preferred them. "Abusive" felt wrong rolling off her tongue, though it was the truth.

"How long did you stay with her?"

"Three years," Saylor mumbled, dropping her gaze in shame. Of all the things that had happened, she felt the worst over the length of time she stayed. "I was such an idiot."

"You weren't an idiot."

"I stayed when I could have left. Feels pretty idiotic to me."

The springs of Sage's mattress made no sighs in relief to alert Saylor as she uncurled her legs and slipped from the bed. Had she not been peeking from under her lashes, she wouldn't have noticed her take a single step to cross the small threshold between their beds, wouldn't have noticed her carefully take a seat next to her until the mattress sank and a gentle hand rested on her shoulder.

"Don't beat yourself up over staying," Sage said, voice as gentle as her touch. "You couldn't help it. You loved her."

"I was desperate."

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I can't be the judge of that but I do know you left. It takes a lot of strength to leave."

Saylor couldn't disagree. The abuse had been difficult, but leaving, deeming her relationship a failure and running back home, had been the hardest thing she had ever done.

"Now, I need to find the strength to tell Blake."

Suffering through abuse and making the decision to leave couldn't be harder than allowing Blake into that dark portion of her past. She wished she didn't have to. She wished every single one of her past relationships failed for normal reasons, not worth a serious talk. But this had to be done, for the very reasons Davy mentioned. Blake had to understand her somehow.

And she wanted to be able to lean fully on Blake when she couldn't handle her torrent of emotions. Despite the number of days she had gone ignoring Katie's torture, she knew the peaceful mindset wouldn't last. She would have bad days, weeks, months. She needed Blake to be there for her regardless of what her memories made her do.

"Telling Blake should be the least of your worries. I guarantee she won't feel any differently toward you because of something someone else did to you."

"You don't think she'll feel like she can find someone better, someone easier?"

"If she was planning on going for easy, she would have stopped trying to 'tame the wild redhead' ages ago."

"What?"

Had she just been equated to a wild creature that required taming? Referred to by her hair color no less. She should have found some offense in the nickname Blake must have assigned to her, but she couldn't bring herself to be upset. She wasn't entirely surprised. Given Blake's original intentions, it didn't seem out of the ordinary.

"Trust me, you don't want to know," Sage said, shaking her head. "Point is Blake knew well enough you would be more work than she's used to. She's still after you. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"I don't think I'll stop worrying until I tell her."

"Then, tell her. Sit her down, tell her you need to talk, explain how important the conversation is to you, and blurt it out."

"You make it sound simple."

"It is simple."

Wary, she met Sage's green eyes, hoping her look conveyed the same unsureness she felt. She didn't think it was quite that simple. Nothing was that simple.

Or maybe it was. All she had to do was tell Blake and she would be swept into comforting arms. Not turned away as she so desperately feared. Blake would hold her, whisper sweet words in her ears, and everything would be okay.

"Look," Sage said, "everyone has demons to face, Blake included. You can’t ignore them, no matter how much you might want to, so conquer them."

Once again, Sage's statement sounded so simple. Just conquer the mess Katie left. Just move on, forget, and become the strong person she had been. But she knew well how hard that was. She spent a year being dragged to therapists, coaxed into eating, told about her worth. Each step in progress was met with another in failure, a tedious cycle that mentally exhausted her.

She supposed telling Blake, confiding in the woman she hoped to start a relationship with, was another step of progress, but she didn't want to be met with failure.

"What lies is Sage telling you?" Blake's voice disrupted Saylor's thoughts, the sudden smooth alto picking up her heartbeat.

How much had she heard?