The room fell into an absolute, breathless hush. The distant sound of the tide outsideโa sound that should have been soothing, a sound meant to bring peace to this pristine destination โ instead turned into a suffocating pressure. Every second of silence before her lips could part felt tightly coiled, a heavy, anxiety-ridden weight pressing down on her chest. Catherine let out a breathless, quiet scoff at the breakup statement joke, her reaction just as dry as Cateโs delivery had been. And yet, it was terrifyingly hard not to focus on those slightly slower ramblings, or on that tiny, tugged grin buried beneath the other woman's unfocused thoughts. Thoughts that, frankly, Catherine entirely agreed with. Who had the time or the energy to endure one tedious activity after another ? All the Welsh woman wanted was the feel of the sand beneath her feet, a nice massage, and her mind left at ease. Some of those desires were far harder to achieve than others, but those were the cards both women had been unfortunately dealt. Behind the breath she was holding, there was the tiniest, almost imperceptible tug over Catherine's own mouth. If one looked closely enough into the shadows of the room, they might just catch it โ a ghost of a smile, gone before it could fully bloom. Now, as she stood by the bed frame, the biting cold of the water bottle between her hands was the only thing grounding her. Her dark eyes locked onto Cateโs flushed face. She was just listening. Absorbing every piece of the night Cate had lived through โ real details, raw and messy, far beyond a simple good or fine. Frankly, they were more details than Catherine felt she deserved to hear anymore.
But there it was again: that brief, ghostly, breathless smile that faded faster than it could fully arise "Sounds... eventful. And well, exhausting," Catherine murmured. A tiny breath of a whispering laugh exhaled through her nose. In truth, all she wanted to do was ask more. She wanted to ask about the other woman's night, about Naomi, about Sarah โabout all those tiny, casual, ordinary things that used to make stepping inside their room at the end of the evening feel like a deep, depressurized sigh. Even if everything about this room, right now, felt like the absolute opposite. It was as if Catherine wasnโt entirely herself tonight, even wrapped in the familiar luxury of her black silk robe. Neither woman was, essentially. It would have been simpler, far more merciful, if they still had that cold hatred looming between them from the Wednesday set. If that vicious energy had physically been the last thing they had experienced of one another. If everything that followed had simply... never happened. Had the only ache both women suffered been the physical remnants of that day โ the blood, the scratches, the tangible wounds. But this wasnโt that anymore. This didnโt feel like two forces crashing blindly against a stone wall. This was infinitely scarier, far more exposing. And as Catherineโs lips parted in the quiet room, the weight of the word exhausting hung between them, carrying a gravity that ran far deeper than the surface. And when Cate finally answered, so genuinely... Catherine felt a sudden, rigid ache in her own muscles. It was as though she had been frozen in stone for far longer than she realized, still holding the cold weight of the water bottle, still trapping that solitary breath in her lungs until, mercifully โ she wasnโt. With a slow, deliberate movement, Catherine placed the bottle upon the bedside table, the small sound echoing sharply in the quiet room before her attention drifted completely back to Cate.
But that was the exquisite agony of it. With each vulnerable word that had fallen from the Aussieโs lips, the truth struck directly at the center of Catherine's own chest. Every single admission resonated so deeply, yet all the Welsh woman could bring herself to do was offer a gentle, barely perceptible nod. A practical sort of glassiness settled like a protective haze over her dark brown eyes โ the only outward sign of the storm raging just beneath the surface. "I โ " She paused. "Yeahโฆ" Her words fell almost like a whisper, as she swallowed the slight lump caught in her throat. "I do know," Catherine finally stated, her brow furrowing slightly, looking moreโฆ real. As though the longer she looked toward Cate, their eyes searching each other for what to say, that naked vulnerability hit, that unspoken pain. Catherine closed herself off briefly, letting out a quiet hum of a breath before she finally allowed herself to sit upon the edge of the bed. "I can't say it's been the easiest of situations, the easiest....room plan" Her eyes dropped, lingering upon her last word until they fell over Cate's again. "Quite the understatement, frankly." Her shoulders fell. "And I spent nearly two weeks in a psych clinic before this." A dry, breathless laugh slipped through her nose. It was a bitter joke she added, a shield to somehow mellow out these feelings slowly crashing inโฆ feelings that were nowhere near as gentle as the waves outside their window.
But Catherine's aim to shield herself didnโt hold up long. Instead, her eyes flickered out toward the breeze briefly, as though she had caught herselfโthat tiny, heavy feeling growing within her chest like a physical weight. She pushed a strand of long black hair behind her ear, the silk of her sleeve whispering in the quiet. "It's not even just here." Her eyes met Cate's again, slightly more somber now, weighed down by the fact that the mere luxury of rest had felt entirely impossible as of late. As of now. "Strangers," Catherine eventually repeated. The word left her tongue with a slow, acknowledging sense of dread โ a sharp, quiet ache at the realization that that was exactly what they were. "I don't hate you" The words left her lips suddenly, as though her brief silence had forced a private thought out loud โ except it wasn't accidental. It was the absolute truth, cutting straight through the wreckage of everything they had done to one another. After the venom theyโd spat, after the physical and mental scars they had so viciously inflicted, they should have been enemies. But they weren't. Not after the way Cate had cast all that wreckage aside just to pull her back from the edge of that terrifying night. How all of this wreckage couldnโt even hold a candle to sharing a room. There was a moment where she parted her lips again, as though to say something more, but nothing released. Until it did. "I... I don't know what else to say right now without feeling as though this room is about to cave in."She shook her head quickly, stopping herself before she could unravel any further. Catherine didnโt even know why she had said those words โ why she would willingly sabotage the safety of that harrowing awkwardness. But she had. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the sudden downfall of armor, yet Catherine had somehow managed to design a brand of torture far more exquisite than the stoic silence, the cold physical pain sheโd been putting herself through: telling someone she once loved... exactly how she was actually feeling.
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