It felt good  to be underwater, almost too good, and Cat had to force herself to surface to take in a mouthful of air in order to appease her burning lungs.  She'd swam far from the beach at this point, past where the waves broke, and when she turned to survey her progress, she could see the lone figure just making his way down the winding path through the grass toward the sand.  Hardly any residents swam in the ocean besides her, and she had been at the center long enough to go down to the water without a chaperone.

Sighing, Cat started the swim back to shore, even though she didn't feel nearly finished.  She never went out too far, but she usually did a couple meter loops before calling it a day.  As always, swimming cleared her head and exhausted her body enough to make her feel at least somewhat normal.

She dove under the crashing waves with ease and surfaced once her knees brushed the gritty sand.  She paused only to adjust her swimsuit and squeeze the water out of her hair before heading towards the man that now stood at end of the path, hands in the pockets of his khakis, watching her.  The sun glinted off the face of his watch as she approached, blinding her a little bit.

"Hi," she greeted without a smile. 

"Hey."  JC took his hands out of his pockets and extended his arms slightly to his sides like he always did, ready to accept her embrace.  Dr. Wheylan had recommended they establish a routine from the beginning, and although it had loosened somewhat with time (she no longer needed to meet him in the lobby, always sitting in the same armchair to the left of the couch), it always began with a greeting and a hug, no matter how forced it felt.  This was the first time JC had come down to meet her at the beach, however, or even arrived unexpectedly, and Cat felt out of sorts.

"I'm wet," she said, gesturing down at her plain black one-piece swimsuit.  It was cheaply made, from somewhere like Wal-Mart or Target, but she hadn't been able to ever get comfortable in the expensive Nike suits that JC had bought for her, so she'd stopped forcing herself to wear them.

"I don't mind," JC replied simply, shrugging his shoulders a little bit.  So Cat stepped forward into his arms, wrapping her own damp ones around his slender back.  She could feel the bones in his spine and knew that he was feeling the same in hers.  When they moved apart, JC had a wet patch in the shape of her torso marking his previously pristine white linen shirt.  He didn't look bothered and instead put his hands back in his pockets.

"What are you doing here?" Cat asked, wishing she was dressed and had pockets of her own to put her useless hands in.  Instead, at a loss, she left her arms dangling at her sides, the saltwater dripping off her fingertips.

"Dr. Wheylan called this morning and asked me to come in," he replied.  "He wants to meet with both of us.  Julie told me you were down here, so I figured I'd save her a trip and come meet you."

It would have been less startling to see Julie down at the beach informing her of this impromptu meeting, but Cat didn't say so.  "I need to get dressed."

"We have time."

She'd left a towel at the edge of the grass, and JC picked it up for her, wrapping it around her shoulders with his strong hands.  He rubbed her arms through the material for a second, even though it was 75 degrees out and she was nowhere near cold. 

She followed JC up the path back to the building, and thankfully didn't have to ask him to wait in the lobby for her.  He'd never once been in her room, not in three whole years, and Cat wanted to keep it that way.  There was a stark variance in the reality of her life at the program and her life with JC.  She still hadn't been able to merge the two, and wasn't sure if she ever wanted to.  Smart, together JC didn't belong in this place, this haven for fuck-ups and losers.  He didn't fit here, he wasn't supposed to.

"I'll be here," was all he said, taking a seat in the homey lobby that he was all too familiar with.  Even the receptionists that worked the front desk were on a first name basis with him.  It was hard not to be friendly with a guy like JC, Cat figured.  Hard for everyone but her.

Up in her room, she took a quick shower and wondered if she should be worried about this surprise meeting.  Dr. Wheylan wasn't in the habit of springing last minute changes on his patients, and it was for good reason.  Cat's hands shook slightly as she combed her damp hair up into a ponytail and got dressed.  Her swim had been cut short and her entire day felt as if it had been tilted on its axis, balancing precariously on the jagged cliff that was her life.  She tried counting her steps as she walked back down to the lobby, and that helped a little bit. 

Dr. Wheylan was already there when she arrived, leaning against the back of the couch and talking casually with JC as if they were old friends.  Cat watched them for a moment, twisting her wedding ring around her finger with her thumb like she always did when she was anxious.  Back in her first few months of the program, she'd had the ring taken away because she'd twisted so much that the platinum had burned through the delicate skin of her finger.  She'd gotten the ring back a year later, but there was still a scar beneath the circle of tiny diamonds.

"Let's go to my office," Dr. Wheylan suggested when Cat approached.  He was smiling easily, the crisp white of his teeth contrasting against his dark skin, but he always looked like that.  Cat followed him, JC close behind, as they crossed to the far doors of the lobby and out into the courtyard.  Dr. Wheylan's office was in a separate building from the rest of the villa, almost like a guesthouse.  It looked like he could have lived there, with its plush couches and small kitchenette to provide coffee and other drinks for patients.  But Cat knew that he lived in Calabasas with his wife and kids, though she didn't know their names or what they looked like.  He didn't have any personal effects or pictures anywhere around his office in order to keep professional distance, which was good as Dr. Wheylan was very easy to get attached to.

As usual, he offered them drinks and gestured for them to sit on one of the couches together while he sat across from them in an armchair.  Their sessions always began with "small" talk, or what Dr. Wheylan considered the "warm up".  Even though Cat wasn't altogether sure that this meeting constituted as a session, as it hadn't been planned or even scheduled for the normal time (they were missing lunch, after all), it began the same as always.  Dr. Wheylan asked polite but thoughtful questions about JC's current projects, and Cat always assumed he must have been an avid reader of Us Weekly and TMZ.com for as much as he knew to ask about.  When it was Cat's turn, Dr. Wheylan asked about topics she was familiar with, like her swimming times and her progress in the various extracurriculars she was signed up for.

"Julie tells me you've bested your meter time," Dr. Wheylan noted, and Cat nodded.  "Did that feel good?"

It was a lame question, but it didn't feel lame coming from Dr. Wheylan.  "Yes," she said, then elaborated.  "Even though I'm not competing any more, it's nice to accomplish something."

Dr. Wheylan smiled, his fist resting against his jaw as he nodded.  "Good.  And how about the piano lessons?"

Cat felt JC shift slightly next to her on the couch, and she looked down at her lap.  "They're...alright.  Harder than I expected."

JC knew he wasn't allowed to interrupt during Cat's time to talk, so he stayed quiet, even though Cat could practically feel the tension radiating off of him in waves.  Was he pleased that she was learning piano, angry that she hadn't asked for his help, or hurt that she hadn't mentioned it to him?  Cat mentally lined up the possibilities, but before she could narrow down her guess, Dr. Wheylan continued.

"It's good to be challenged sometimes."  He paused to take a sip from his cup of coffee before leaning forward to place it on the narrow table between them.  "Let's talk about the reason we're here."

Cat looked up, feeling her heart constrict in her chest.

"I'm sorry about the short notice, but it was important for both of you to be present," Dr. Wheylan said.  "Cat, I've already asked the front desk to begin preparing your discharge paperwork.  You're ready to go home."

Never in a million years did Cat expect those words to come out of Dr. Wheylan's mouth.  She felt lightheaded as she stared back at him, unsure of what to think or how to feel.

"Today?" JC asked, breaking the cardinal "no interrupting" rule.  "She can come home today?"

"Standard operating procedure is 48 hours," Dr. Wheylan replied.  "To allow for transition time."

"That's...great.  That's great news," JC blurted.  He glanced over at her but Cat kept her gaze trained on Dr. Wheylan's blue coffee cup.  "Cat?"

"How do you feel?" Dr. Wheylan asked gently, and Cat tried desperately to clear her mind of the panic that threatened to spill out. 

"I feel...surprised," she admitted, and Dr. Wheylan nodded. 

"Do you feel that you're ready?"

Cat longed to say no.  Deep in every fiber of her being, she wanted the answer to be no so that she could stay away from life for as long as possible.  The truth was, she liked being sequestered away up here so that she could avoid the reality of the family she'd estranged, the marriage she'd destroyed, the life she'd essentially thrown away.  More than anything, Cat wanted to run out of the office and back up to her room to hide under the covers of her bed and pretend that this day had never happened.

Unfortunately, years of therapy had conditioned Cat to consider her thoughts rather than react to them, so she took a moment to reply.

"Yes," she said finally, evenly.  "I feel that I'm ready to...go home."

It was hard to refer to anywhere outside of this place as her home, but she knew it pleased JC.  He was practically beside himself, sitting next to her on the couch.  He'd started to fidget, drumming his fingertips on the armrest, tapping his foot against the leg of the table.

Dr. Wheylan nodded and picked up a clipboard that Cat hadn't noticed before, pausing to make a few notes.

"JC, would you mind giving Cat and I a moment?"

JC nodded, but before he got up, reached for Cat's hand and squeezed it gently within his own.  Cat started at the unexpected contact, but he was on his way out of the room before she could figure out how to respond.

Dr. Wheylan looked at her for a long time and Cat did her best to hold his gaze.  Inside, she was dying to turn away, to hide in a corner, but she resisted. 

"Tell me what's going on," Dr. Wheylan prompted.  It was a familiar phrase and Cat knew that it meant he wanted to hear exactly what she was thinking and feeling, right at that moment, no holding back.

"I feel...blindsided," Cat admitted, "and guilty for feeling that way."

"Go on."  Dr. Wheylan motioned for her to continue and Cat twisted her ring a few times before forcing herself to stop. 

"I don't know if I want to be ready to go home," she said.  "I'm so afraid to screw up my marriage even more.  I've hurt JC so badly.  I don't know if I can face my old friends, our old life."

She went on a few more minutes, blurting out brief, disconnected thoughts as they occurred to her.  When she was finished, as usual, she felt the crushing weight of fear lift off her shoulders slightly.  These exercises weren't bullshit, Cat learned that as soon as she stopped resisting them and just started giving in.  How on earth would she function at home without Dr. Wheylan continually prompting her every time she faltered?

When she was finished speaking, Dr. Wheylan made another note on his clipboard before addressing her.

"All of these thoughts that are plaguing you are completely normal," he assured.  "To hear you voice them only confirms my belief that you're ready."

"So I'm...rehabilitated?" Cat asked, the word feeling foreign in her mouth.  It always reminded her of a car accident victim, someone who had broken their spine and needed months of intensive therapy in order to walk again.  The name of the facility was Malibu Valley Rehabilitation and Restoration Center, but there weren't any car accident victims in sight.  Just a bunch of headcases like her.  And restoration was even worse - like she was some old painting that had to be cleaned and buffed until it had returned as close as possible to its original, albeit faded, appearance.

"Do you think you are?" Dr. Wheylan asked and Cat sighed.

"No.  I feel the same as I did when I got here.  Just...more accepting."

A hint of a smile played at the corners of Dr. Wheylan's mouth.  "Good.  We can all stand to be a little bit more accepting."

They sat in silence for a few moments and Cat picked at a thread in the throw pillow beneath her arm.

"Can I call you?" she asked meekly.  "If...if things get bad?"

"Of course," Dr. Wheylan assured.  "Any time, day or night."

Cat suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion.  This would be the last time she would sit on this couch.  She felt as if there were so many things she'd yet to figure out about herself, but was it ever possible to figure out everything?  The worst part was the attachment she felt to Dr. Wheylan, a person who she knew virtually nothing about despite his intimate knowledge of her.  She only knew his first name from looking at the multiple diplomas and certificates on the wall behind his desk, across the office.  It was Malcolm, and his middle initial was R.

"Can I ask you something?" she blurted, and Dr. Wheylan simply nodded, unfazed.  "What's your wife's name?"

If he was surprised at her question, he didn't show it.  "Andrea."

Cat nodded slowly, letting this sink in.  "Oh."

Dr. Wheylan eyed her closely.  "Anything else, Cat?"

She shook her head.

Dr. Wheylan set his clipboard down and stood.  Cat took her cue to stand as well, and allowed him to walk her outside.  JC was waiting in the courtyard, hands in his pockets again as he surveyed a fountain nearby.

"48 hours," Dr. Wheylan reminded them.  "JC, stop by the front desk on the way out and Marissa will give you the waivers to sign and some other necessary information on our discharge procedure."

Cat walked with JC back to the lobby, the air-conditioned air hitting her bare arms with a goosebump-inducing rush.  Julie was waiting by the desk for her but motioned for them to say their goodbyes.

"Good news," JC said, unable to contain his smile.  Cat forced one that she hoped looked natural, even though she could feel it sitting on her face like a pathetic mockery.  "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Cat replied.  "Well.  See you in 48 hours, I guess."

JC's smile faltered slightly.  "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah.  Just tired," she said, which was the truth.  She felt drained, like every ounce of energy had been squeezed out of her.  She just wanted to lay down and close her eyes. 

"Get some rest."  JC squeezed her upper arms and pulled her in for a hug rather than wait for her to step into it.  Cat's immediate reaction was to stiffen, but she forced herself to wrap her arms around JC mechanically.  "I love you."

It was the phrase JC spoke every time they said goodbye after one of their sessions, at least once a week and occasionally twice.  It was an unquestionable part of their routine, and another part of their routine was Cat's response. 

"I know," she murmured, her voice muffled by his shoulder.  As usual, she felt a certain change in JC after she said that, a release of hope and a resignation of sorts.  When he pulled back, there was always a note of soft sadness in his eyes but he never said anything about it or acted frustrated.  How was it possible to put up with three years of your wife not being able to say "I love you" back?

This time was the same as always, but JC placed a soft kiss on top of her hair before stepping away.

"See you Thursday," he said.  "'Bye."

"'Bye," she said, feeling a familiar emptiness inside as she walked away from him.  She crossed the room to meet Julie, who waved at JC before wrapping her arm around Cat's shoulders.  Normally, she would flinch, but Julie was a touchy person and Cat had been getting used to her random displays of affection for years.  It was just another part of her routine.

"You must be so excited," Julie gushed, guiding Cat towards the stairs. 

"Mm hmm," Cat replied absentmindedly, counting the stairs as they ascended. 

"We're going to miss you around here," Julie continued.  "You'll have to come back and visit."

Cat didn't say anything.      

 

She had never wanted to fall in love with JC.

It was sort of humorous, actually, because as a couple, they didn't really make sense.  He was scatterbrained and passionate, she was meticulous and reserved.  He came from a close-knit family, she came from a non-existent-knit one.  A road map of their lives would have looked clashed and confusing, but the place where their relationship intersected was surprisingly effortless.

Oddly enough, they'd both been born in Maryland, albeit opposite ends of the state.  JC had been raised there, for the most part, but Cat barely had time to  make memories of the east coast before her parents divorced, and she'd gotten transplanted to Los Angeles with her father before her third birthday.  She and her brother spent summers in Connecticut with their mother until the age of 8, before things just "got too hectic", in her mom's words.  Cat had always considered California to be her real home, and she embraced everything about the Pacific Ocean wholeheartedly.  She'd always loved to swim (she'd bested her brother in swimming lessons as a five-year-old and never forgotten it), and as she grew older, the beach and the water there became a new world to Cat.  Her father bought her snorkeling lessons in Coronado for her 12th birthday, and she was scuba-certified as soon as she was 18.  College had been a no-brainer, of course, and she applied only to UCSD's prestigious Institute of Oceanography, despite her father's urging for a couple safety schools.

While she was working on her bachelor's degree in Marine Science, Cat taught swimming lessons for spending money and starting competing on her school's intramural dive team for fun.  As far as she was concerned, a day wasn't worth experiencing unless she spent at least part of it in the water.  She still felt that way.

She was working at the Aquarium of the Pacific and starting on her Masters when she met JC.  It was stupid, really - he'd wanted to arrange a private tour of the aquarium for his mom's birthday, and the operator had mistakenly directed his call to her as opposed to the public relations manager. 

He'd been unquestionably adorable, even over the phone, rambling on about how much his mother loved the ocean and he hadn't been able to spend a birthday with her in years, and went as far to drop some subtle hints that he'd be willing and able to drop a serious donation to the aquarium if she was able to make this work on such late notice.  When she finally managed to get a word in edgewise, Cat informed him that she was actually in the research department, not public relations, but promised to transfer him.  Of course, the PR manager was at lunch, but JC had sounded so forlorn that Cat took the message personally rather than direct him to voicemail.  She'd diligently copied down his request and promised to do whatever she could to help.  Even though private tours were not the aquarium's standard procedure, Cat pleaded JC's case to the PR manager (who was a grumpy man on a good day), for reasons unknown even to her.  Maybe it was the potential of a large donation, or maybe it was the lost puppy quality of JC's phone call.  Either way, she pulled the necessary strings and got the tour secured.

A few days later, a large bouquet of flowers was waiting on her desk when she got in to the office, along with a hand-written note from JC, expressing his thanks to her for helping move the process along.  Additionally, he'd made the aforementioned donation and it was more than substantial.  Cat's boss, who sat on the board of directors for the aquarium, was over the moon.

"Any man who will send you flowers, sight unseen, and donate that much money in one fell swoop, is a keeper," she'd told Cat excitedly.  "We need to make sure to add him to our donor mailing list."

The flowers were beautiful and exorbitant and must have had some kind of magical potion in them, because they stayed alive and blooming on Cat's desk for another two weeks.  They still looked beautiful when one of the receptionists paged her during lunch one afternoon to tell her that she had a visitor.  Cat didn't get visitors very often, and as much as she longed to stay at her desk and finish her turkey sandwich, she begrudgingly went up front. 

JC was waiting there for her, and Cat would be lying if she said that he wasn't even more attractive than she'd expected.  He looked rich but not showy, wearing a nice button-down shirt and dark, unwrinkled jeans.  She felt sloppy in comparison, with her ponytail and the little spot of mustard she'd gotten on her black aquarium polo shirt earlier, but JC made her feel comfortable, shaking her hand warmly as he introduced himself.

"I just wanted to personally thank you for helping to set up this tour for my mom today," he said.  "She's beyond thrilled."

"I'm so glad," Cat replied.  "And thank you for the flowers."

"My pleasure."  He took a moment to let go of her hand.  "I can't believe this is the first time I've been here.  This is a great facility."

If there was anything Cat took pride in, it was the aquarium, and she could practically feel herself preening under the indirect compliment.  "We've been doing a lot of work over the past few years.  There's so many new exhibits right now...did you get a map?"

JC then patiently allowed her to outline several points of interest that they should be sure not to miss, placing a special emphasis on the dolphin exhibit that she'd personally worked to re-calibrate the previous year.

"Maybe I should have tried to get you as our tour guide," he said when she was finished, and Cat blushed. 

"I'll let you get going.  It was nice to meet you."

They shook hands again and Cat turned to head back to her office.  She was five steps away when JC called for her to wait.  She stopped, extra aware of the nosy receptionist at the desk nearby.  JC took the few steps to catch up with her and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"Uh, look.  I'm trying this new thing where I'm  being more straightforward.  So, I'm just gonna come out and say it."  He held out his hands, palms up as if already asking for her forgiveness.  "I think you're cute.  And I'd like to maybe get your number, if I could."

Cat felt as if her entire body would burn up with the blush that covered her face and neck.  She knew the receptionist was gawking openly at this point, but she'd remained calm and given JC her card, writing her cell phone number on the back.  She wasn't exactly a serial dater, but it would have been altogether more embarrassing to turn him down, and it wasn't like he would actually call, anyway.

But he did call, and she somehow found herself agreeing to join him at a piano bar downtown to watch some of his friends perform sub-par karaoke.  She didn't make any connection to his celebrity status until they got to the bar and were promptly accosted by a man with a video camera outside.  Too embarrassed to ask who JC was, Cat figured it out through observation and small talk with his friends.  In between drinks and taking in pathetic performances of "Electric Avenue" and "Pour Some Sugar on Me", Cat and JC talked.  They swapped life stories, most embarrassing moments, favorite pets growing up. 

By the end of the night, Cat was already afraid of how much she liked him, but somehow allowed herself to be asked on a second date (this time solo).  The second date turned into a third, and a fourth, and a fifth, with frequent phone calls in between, and all of a sudden, Cat had spent an entire month dating JC.

So, really, the way it happened was totally ridiculous.  Almost without realizing it, she found herself in a serious relationship with an ex-pop star, which was really the last place she'd ever wanted or expected to be. 

Cat thought this over as she sat in her room for the last time Thursday morning.  She hadn't officially packed yet, because she didn't have suitcases, but all of her clothes and belongings were in neat little piles, ready to be filed away in the bags that JC was bringing with him.  She couldn't remember how she got all of her stuff here without suitcases, but the truth was that she couldn't remember much of those first few weeks at all.

Now, she looked around her room with a careful eye, considering the place she had essentially come to consider home over the past three years.  It wasn't much bigger than a hotel room, but the quality of it put her first ever studio apartment in Long Beach to shame.  And the view of the ocean was priceless.  Well, not completely priceless, Cat thought, realizing for what felt like the first time how much this place was probably costing JC.  She knew her dad had offered to split the bill with him, but JC refused.  As far as her father was concerned, JC was her knight in shining armor, although Cat would have preferred being whisked off to a castle somewhere rather than rehab. 

She felt guilty at the thought.  This was her own fault, after all.  JC had never asked for any of this.

A knock sounded at the door and Cat stood up, suddenly nervous.  This would be the first and last time JC saw her room.  She opened the door to reveal him standing on the other side with two huge Coach suitcases, looking sheepish.

"I wasn't really sure how much stuff you had," he admitted, wheeling them into the room.

"It's okay," Cat replied, hesitating to close the door behind him.  She and JC hadn't been alone, really alone, together in years.  They were always down in the lobby or in Dr. Wheylan's office, always people nearby.  Cat would be lying if she didn't admit to using that to her advantage...JC had never been much for PDA, and she couldn't remember the last time they'd kissed. 

JC set one of the suitcases on the bed and took a moment to glance around.  "This is nice."

Cat nodded, already reaching for a stack of clothing to place inside the suitcase.  "I guess so.  I like the view, anyway."  She thought forlornly of JC's Hollywood Hills home that they'd shared together for the first year of their marriage.  It was high up enough that, on a rare clear day, if you squinted, you could see just a slice of blue.  But it wasn't the same.

"About that."  JC worked beside her, handing her little stacks that she could place neatly inside the suitcase.  "I have a surprise for you."

Cat looked up at him, unnerved.  Could she handle another surprise so soon?  "What is it?"

JC just smiled, but Cat could see the twinkle of excitement in his eyes and knew he was barely containing himself.  "You'll see."

Together, they packed everything quickly, more quickly than Cat had expected.  Down in the lobby, Julie, Dr. Wheylan, and a couple of the orderlies she had gotten to know over the years were waiting for her.

"Just a little something we had everyone sign," Julie explained as she handed Cat an envelope with her name on it.  "We sure will miss you, Cat."

Cat accepted the card and Julie's hug.  Her original plan when arriving at the center was to keep everyone at arm's length or further away.  She didn't want to form attachments here.  But Julie had been the most stubborn - as the head nurse and main medical liaison, she was unavoidable, and she'd squeezed herself into Cat's life unexpectedly.  Even if she only saw Dr. Wheylan once a week, Cat saw Julie every day, and Julie never gave up.

"I'll miss you, too, Julie," Cat replied, because it was hard to imagine life without seeing the woman's perky smile day after day.  Julie's eyes got misty at that comment, so Cat moved on to say her goodbyes with the rest of her little bon voyage party.  Dr. Wheylan was last, and he walked with them out to where JC's Jeep waited in the circular drive.

"We'll do a follow-up appointment in four weeks, but you both have my number if there are any questions before then," he said.  While JC loaded the back of the car, Dr. Wheylan put his hand on Cat's shoulder.  "I've learned a lot from you, Cat."

This was the last thing Cat expected to hear, and she felt her throat tighten oddly.  "Same here, Dr. Wheylan."

He held up his hands.  "I'm not your doctor anymore.  Call me Malcolm."

"Okay," Cat agreed, though she knew he would always be Dr. Wheylan in her mind.  "Thanks for everything."

"No, thank you."  To her surprise, Dr. Wheylan gave her a hug and then offered his hand to JC.  "Drive safely."

He stayed outside while they got in the car, and Cat waved to him as JC started down the winding driveway, back to the world below.  Cat swallowed hard and rested the palms of her hands on her thighs, feeling the denim beneath her hands and trying to focus on that rather than the reality of leaving the center for the first time.

"You okay?" JC asked as they reached the traffic light at the bottom of the hill and prepared to turn left onto PCH. 

"I'm fine," Cat replied automatically even though she felt about two minutes away from hyperventilating.  JC sighed and took his hands off the steering wheel.

"Cat, if this is going to work, you need to be honest with me," he said.  "If you're not okay...that's fine.  I just want you to tell me what you're feeling."

Cat wasn't used to telling anyone but Dr. Wheylan what she was feeling, but he was right.  "Okay.  I'm a little freaked out.  A lot freaked out."

"Alright."  The light turned green, and JC pulled out into traffic.  It was late Thursday morning so there weren't many people around, but Cat still felt overwhelmed.  "Thanks for being honest."

"You're welcome," Cat murmured, turning to look out at the ocean rather than watch the road in front of them.  She needed to soak it up before they turned inland to take the 10 Freeway towards LA.

However, when they reached Santa Monica, instead of getting on the freeway, JC stayed on PCH.

"Where are we going?" Cat asked, looking out at the pier and the surfers like black dots in the blue water.

"Part of your surprise," was all JC said, and they didn't talk for the rest of the drive.  The radio was off, but JC drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed under his breath.  Cat could tell that he was beyond excited...the last day she had seen him this thrilled was their wedding day.  She tried to muster up some excitement as well, but all she could manage was trepidation.

No matter what the surprise was, she would be pleased, Cat decided.  She couldn't burst JC's bubble anymore - it was time to be a real married couple...the kind that lived together and communicated and worked through problems like normal, adjusted adults.  They could make this work.  There was no reason it couldn't.

Eventually, they turned off PCH, and passed a stonework sign that read Palos Verdes Estates.  Cat wasn't familiar with the area, and still wasn't sure what they were doing there.  She felt tired already though, and hoped it wouldn't take too long before they could go home.  She squelched her questions as JC drove through a quaint business district before the street gave way into large, sprawling homes with red-tile roofs and large, impressive gardens.  It was a rich neighborhood, that was for sure.  Did JC have a friend that lived out here?

Eventually, the mass of homes gave way, and JC turned onto a less populated street.  Cat's heart gave a lurch - they were right on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the beautiful sparkle of the calm blue waves winking back at her like an old friend.  She was still looking out at it when JC reached a gate with a keypad, just like at their house.  He rolled down the window, input the code, and the gate swung open to allow them access up a wide, curved drive, lined with lush trees and bushes.  The driveway ended at a house, similar to the ones they'd already passed, but much larger, with a tall wooden front door.  Cat watched as JC put the Jeep in park and turned the motor off.

"Where are we?" she asked, and he smiled at her. 

"We're home."

Cat looked out the window again at the house.  "But...we don't live here."

"We do now," JC replied.  "I sold the Hollywood house, Cat."

She blinked.  "But...that's your house.  Your studio..."

"This house has a finished basement," JC said.  "It'll take some time to get it up to par, but we've already started the process.  What I can't do here yet, I'll just drive into the city to get done.  It's not far.  And I know that you always hated that house."

"I didn't," Cat replied, even though she never really liked it, either.  It was too cold and modern, and she'd never been able to figure out how to make it into something that wasn't a total bachelor pad.  A stark memory of standing alone in the huge kitchen, trying to make the coffee machine work, came to her suddenly, and Cat blinked it away.  Maybe JC was right. 

"I checked with Dr. Wheylan, and he thought it would be a good idea to start fresh in a new house," JC continued, getting out of the Jeep.  Cat followed somewhat warily, allowing JC to come around the side of the car and take her hand.  "But this place is perfect, and I want to show you why."

He was still so excited, and Cat let him lead her up the short front steps and through the front door.  The entryway was spacious and airy, with Spanish tiles on the floor and a wide staircase leading up to the left.  But she barely had time to look around before JC pulled her along, through the entryway and straight back, down into a sunken living room.  The furniture wasn't the same stuff that JC had had at his Hollywood house - mostly white and uncomfortable or leather and unwelcoming.  Again, Cat didn't get any time to look around before JC pulled her to the far wall, lined with floor-to-ceiling picture windows, a pair of glass doors in the center.  He opened them up and ushered her outside.

"What are we doing?" she started to ask, but her breath caught in her throat.  If she'd thought the view at the center was magnificent, the view here was...it was...indescribable.

Just beyond a long infinity pool that looked as if it spilled off the edge of a cliff into the ocean, the blue stretched out in front of her, seemingly going on forever.  Cat remembered the pitiful view from their old house and suddenly realized what JC had done.

"You did this for me?" she asked softly, glancing back at JC who stood just a few steps behind, watching her. 

"Yeah," he replied, almost sheepishly.  "I know how you like to be close to the water."

Liking to be close to the water was an understatement, but clearly JC understood that.  Cat walked around the back patio a little bit, exploring the view.  To the left, she could see a couple more houses spread out along the cliff, a fair distance away, but as their house was positioned on an edge that jutted out from the rest of the land, any neighbors were near invisible.  To the right, an inlet split the cliff from its other side, and an impossibly long and windy staircase led down to a small, private beach below.

"I haven't gone down there yet," JC admitted from behind her.  "It looks sketchy, but I did have a guy come out and check the integrity of the stairs.  It was pretty tough to find a place that was this secluded and had beach access on the property."

"That's ours?" Cat asked, pointing down to the sandy cove.  "Our own beach?"

"Well, technically, the beach is state property," JC amended.  "But the only land-based access point is on our land, so getting there would be pretty tough for anyone but us."

Us.  The word echoed in Cat's mind, almost as if she'd forgotten.  She and JC were married, and now they lived together in this enormous, beautiful house, with the ocean as their backyard and their own private freaking beach.  Her head spun with everything to take in, but Cat forced herself to take a breath.  One step at a time.

"This is incredible," she said.  "Thank you.  For doing this."

She turned toward JC, knowing what she needed to do, and stretched up on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.  It felt foreign to do this - their routine had been all about JC initiating the hug and Cat being able to accept it.  Doing it this way felt unnatural and uncomfortable, but JC returned the embrace, one arm around her waist tightly and one hand stroking her hair.

"I would do anything for you, Cat," JC murmured, his voice close to her ear.  Cat shut her eyes at his words.  She already knew that he would, but the real question remaining was what would she do for him?

Cat pulled back, ready to step away, but JC kept his arms around her, and suddenly they were in the position they'd somehow avoided for years.  JC's hand was on her neck, his thumb softly rubbing the spot below her ear, and he was looking at her lips.  Cat panicked. 

"I have to go to the bathroom," she blurted, twisting out of his grip abruptly and heading for the back doors.  Once she was inside the house, she realized that she had no idea where the bathroom might be, so she lingered on the carpeted step above the living room to look around.  A plush, matching set of a couch and two armchairs were positioned in a semi-circle around the large fireplace, a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall above.  With little touches like throw pillows and blankets, decorated in inviting, warm earth tones, the room was welcoming and cozy, rather than cold and impersonal, like JC's formal living room at the Hollywood house.  No one ever used it, and Cat had hated going in there.

"I hired a decorator, but if you don't like anything, we can change it." 

JC was behind her again, his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorjamb.  The excitement from earlier had been extinguished from his eyes, and Cat felt her insides deflate in shame.

"It's beautiful."

"Bathroom's this way," JC announced, moving past her.  Cat followed him, now entirely unsure that this life was possible for her.  How could she do this?  She couldn't even kiss her husband for Christ's sake.

The day only got worse when JC brought her bags in and led her up the stairs to the house's second level.  In a place this large, it was clear that there must have been several bedrooms, but Cat didn't really consider where she would sleep until JC led her into the master.  The room was spectacular, with a fireplace to match the one downstairs, and a view that was somehow even better up a little higher.  There was even a rounded balcony, and the doors were propped open, allowing fresh sea air inside.  Cat noticed all these things first, and then she noticed the bed.  It was huge, a king-size with a light gray duvet and a pile of white pillows at the head.  What Cat noticed, however, was that the side closest to the door was rumpled, and there was a half-empty glass of water on the bedside table.  Next to that, beneath a cell phone charger, was a familiar looking brown leather bound notebook.  It was JC's, a gift she'd gotten him for his 30th birthday, when they were still dating, and it was seriously great because the cover and the pages inside were separate, so when you filled the notebook, you could slide out the insert and put in a blank one.  For someone like JC, who filled notebooks faster than most people could finish reading a magazine, it was the perfect gift.

It was then that Cat realized with a start that she and JC were supposed to share the same bedroom.

It made sense, of course...they were married.  Married couples...slept together.  But Cat hadn't shared a room or a bed with anyone since she'd last lived with JC.  Some of the rooms at the center were doubles, and most everyone had a roommate, but Cat had been assigned one of the single rooms by request.  She hadn't wanted to make friends there, so she didn't.  Other than interactions with some staff, Julie, and Dr. Wheylan, as well as the mandated group therapy sessions she'd had to suffer through in the beginning, Cat pretty much kept to herself.  The idea of having to sleep beside someone, even if that someone was JC, was startling.

He noticed her disposition right away and set her bags aside, near the open door of a spacious closet. 

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," was what she said quickly, but when JC's eyebrows lowered, showing that he didn't believe her for a second, Cat wondered how she could possibly get out of this without destroying his feelings more than she already had.  "Um.  Are there curtains?" she asked instead, pointing at the open glass doors.  JC glanced over with a frown.

"No, I guess not.  I can hang some."

"Okay."  Cat forced a smile and shrugged.  She knew JC wanted her to be honest, but she didn't think he could quite take hearing that she wasn't ready to share a bed with him.

That night, however, Cat's panic returned.  She'd managed to put the bedroom dilemma out of her mind for the majority of the evening, as JC had ordered in Thai food (her favorite) and they'd watched a movie together.  In fact, she was relaxed and almost happy when JC suggested bed.

"You don't have to," he said when she looked up at him, eyes wide.  "But I'm beat."

Cat looked around the living room - all the dishes had been put in the dishwasher hours ago, the movie was over, and she was pretty exhausted.  She could fight off the moment for as long as possible, or just give in.

"Yeah.  Me too," she agreed, and followed JC upstairs to their bedroom. 

She managed to put on pajamas and wash her face without much effort, but when she turned the light out in the adjoining bathroom and found JC in bed already, a book open in his lap, she almost ran out of the room.  Instead, Cat forced herself to breathe and take one step toward the bed, then another, then another.  If JC noticed her strange, slow walk, he didn't say anything, and he kept his attention focused on his book.  He wore a t-shirt with his boxers, so Cat placated herself with the thought that he wasn't totally comfortable, either.  He was probably in a worse position than she was, anyway - he'd been forced to sleep alone for three years.

Cat sat down on the edge of the bed and took a moment to take in the purely physical aspects of her surroundings.  The bed was soft, but firm; the sheets were a thick and luxurious cotton.  It was almost like a hotel bed.  Unfamiliar but engineered to be inviting.  The lamp on her nightstand was turned on, but the rest of the tabletop was bare, save for a digital alarm clock and a framed photo.  Cat picked it up to look at it more closely - it was a picture from their wedding day.  They'd gotten married on the beach (of course), and in this particular shot, they stood ankle deep in the surf, Cat's dress swirling in the water, looking out at the sunset.  Their backs were turned to the camera, but Cat knew they were both smiling.  She remembered.

She took her time getting under the covers and turning her light out.  She pulled the comforter up to her chin and tried to relax, but her muscles felt as tense as a stretched rubber band.

"Is the light bothering you?" JC asked, glancing down at her.  Cat shook her head. 

"No, but I thought you were tired."

He smiled and set his book aside.  "I guess I am."  He turned out his light, throwing the room into darkness, except for the moon hanging over the ocean out beyond the balcony.  The doors were closed, but Cat could hear the waves crashing against base of the cliffs far below.

"Goodnight, Cat," JC said softly next to her.  The bed was big enough so that they weren't even touching, never had to if they didn't want to, and JC didn't make a move towards her.  Cat tugged the covers up even further on instinct. 

"Goodnight."

In what seemed like no time at all, JC was fast asleep.  He didn't snore, really, but he did breathe deeply, and his mouth was always just a little bit open.  Cat listened to him for awhile, hoping that she would be in the same position if she just allowed fatigue to take over, but she couldn't get herself to relax.  JC murmured something in his sleep and rolled over, his back to her, shifting the covers as he went.  Cat stared at the ceiling, feeling something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Hours went by, and Cat tried everything from counting sheep to reciting multiplication tables in her head.  She was exhausted, but every time JC shifted or made a noise, she remembered where she was, and her body tensed up again.  She glanced at the clock, realized it was almost two AM, and made a decision.

JC didn't stir as she got out of bed and padded out of the room.  She took her watch with her, and slipped downstairs to the couch.  She could probably find another bedroom, but she wasn't sure which ones were furnished, and the living room was the most familiar room in the house so far.  The couch was just as comfortable to lay on as it was to sit on, and she sunk into it with a breath of relief.  She set her watch alarm for 5, hoping JC hadn't adopted her habit of early rising while she was gone, and pulled a chenille blanket over her legs.  She was asleep in minutes. 

 

In the morning, Cat longed to go out for a swim, but she stayed in bed, even after JC got up and showered.  She'd crept back in next to him just past 5, hoping that he wouldn't wake up, but armed with an "I was thirsty" excuse if he did.  But as usual, JC was dead to the world until about 8, and even though she never fell back asleep, Cat watched the light in the room change as the sun came up.  When his iPhone alarm went off, she shut her eyes tightly and curled up in a ball, hoping that she looked convincing.

He didn't try to wake her, just slipped out of the room after he got dressed, and Cat's eyes snapped open as soon as the door closed softly behind him.  She wondered if it would be prudent to stay in bed for awhile, for appearance's sake, but she was already itching to get up.

After a shower, she took her time getting downstairs, instead choosing to explore the upper level of the house a bit.  The master bedroom was positioned at the right of the house, atop the living room, but the hallway continued down the other side with several more doors.  Cat found a bathroom and three more bedrooms, two of which were empty, and the smallest containing a desk and several unopened boxes.  She'd never understood why they needed so many bedrooms if it was just the two of them.  Maybe one guestroom was prudent, but three or four?

The wall on the right side of the stairwell was lined with framed pictures - Cat stopped to admire them, glad that the decorator JC had hired seemed to have some sense on how to actually make a house a home.  JC's Hollywood house had been almost devoid of photographs or personal touches, probably because he spent so little time anywhere but the studio.  She'd always wanted to get photos together for framing and arranging, but she'd never gotten the chance.  Now, someone had done all the hard work for her.  There were photos of JC's family, his parents, brother and sister.  Photos of her own family, her father and brother only.  Cat hadn't had regular contact with her mom since around age 13, and she wasn't even sure what she looked like these days.

Toward the bottom of the stairs was a cluster of their engagement and wedding photographs.  The largest, a portrait of the entire wedding party and both families, was positioned in the middle, with other, smaller photos branching out.  Cat studied the photos, remembering her dress and how it swished around her legs, the warm sand beneath her bare feet.  The ceremony had been on a private beach in Santa Barbara, and the weather was perfect that day.  Thankfully, it wasn't a celebrity wedding by any means, and they had avoided paparazzi completely by keeping the plans quiet and number of guests low.  It really had been a perfect day. 

Cat was distracted by voices coming from the kitchen, so she continued down the stairs and through the arched doorway off the foyer.  JC was nowhere to be seen, but there were two men rifling through the fridge, their backs to her.  Cat paused for a moment, unsure, but one of them must have heard her because he turned around, looking guilty.

"Kitty Cat!"

Cat's shoulders relaxed despite hearing the nickname she despised.  "Hi, Joey."

Joey stepped forward as if to greet her with a hug, but hesitated a couple feet away.  "It's good to have you back."

Filled with shame, Cat nodded awkwardly.  Joey was one of JC's friends and old bandmates, and he'd never hesitated to hug her or anyone else before.  She felt like damaged goods.

"You should have heard JC these past couple days," Joey went on.  "He hasn't been able to shut up about you coming home.  He is stoked."

Cat wasn't sure what to say to that, so she just smiled.  Was this how it was going to be to see all of her old friends?  No matter what, she supposed, there would always be that same elephant in the room - she was essentially a drug addict who'd had a nervous breakdown and abandoned her husband for three whole years.  How could anyone even tolerate her after that?

The other guy in the room had pulled a pile of sandwich fixings out of the fridge and set them down on the counter to wave to her.  Cat didn't recognize him, so Joey stepped in.  "You remember Chad, JC's manager?"

A vague spark of recognition reminded Cat of this man, but it was very vague.  She'd done her best to keep out of JC's public life - she didn't go to awards shows or premieres or functions.  Which, in retrospect, was probably a good thing.

"Oh, yeah.  Hey," she greeted half-heartedly.  "Um, I hate to be rude, but...what are you guys doing here?"

"It's okay, you can be rude," Joey replied good-naturedly.  "It's your house."

"JC and I have a meeting at 10," Chad explained.

"And I'm just hanging out, helping out a little bit with the new studio," Joey finished.  "And eating all of your food."

They engrossed themselves in their sandwich making then, so Cat poured herself a cup of coffee from the full pot on the counter.  It didn't take long to find the mugs and the sugar - JC was a creature of habit and he'd apparently organized the kitchen the exact same way as he had in Hollywood, which was an odd relief for Cat.  She scooted onto a stool at the island, opposite Joey and Chad's sandwich building.

"Beautiful," Joey murmured as he finished his sandwich, looking up at Cat.  "Want one?  I make a mean pastrami."

It was barely 9:30, so Cat shook her head.  "No, thanks."  A brief awkward silence followed and she knew that it was time to make polite conversation.  It had been years since she'd asked anyone questions about themselves, so she was more than a little rusty.  "So...how've you been?" she asked lamely, but Joey replied with gusto.

"Oh, awesome.  Really good."  He filled her in on all the details of his life, which was refreshing as she only had to listen to him talk rather than think of new questions.  Apparently, he was living in Orlando now with his family (before Cat had left for the center, he'd been living in LA while he filmed some reality show), and his wife had given birth to another daughter earlier that year.  "I'm just here for a couple weeks, co-hosting the Billboard awards." 

Cat nodded thoughtfully as she tried to remember what show he'd been on.  "Did you win?"

Joey frowned.  "Whassat?"

"Did you win the, um...dancing show?" she asked.  Neither she or JC were much for reality TV, but they'd watched him a couple times, attempting the foxtrot, the tango, and the like with a professional blond. 

"Oh, Dancing with the Stars," Joey supplied, then frowned again.  "No.  I came in second to an ice skater.  Can you believe that?"

"Wasn't he a speed skater?" Chad interjected, mouth full of sandwich. 

"Who cares?  Same difference."

"Well, it's totally different, actually," Chad replied, and started to outline the differences between speed skating and figure skating.  Cat was listening politely when JC came in.

"Hey, you're up."  He stepped up behind Cat and rubbed the small of her back for a second.  "I thought you might sleep all day."

She forced a smile that she hoped looked genuine.  "I was pretty tired."

JC smiled back and reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear before moving toward the coffee pot.  Cat didn't relax until he walked away, cursing herself.  "How did you guys get in?"

"You gave me the gate code last week, remember?" Joey said.  "Chad was waiting out front when I got there, so I just figured I'd be a good host since you decided not to be."

Cat watched JC as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  He looked like he'd been working out - he was wearing a plain white t-shirt and basketball shorts, and he looked sweaty.  He looked...good, and Cat felt oddly embarrassed to admit that to herself, and then got embarrassed for being embarrassed.  He was her husband, after all, she was supposed to think he looked good.

"Sorry.  I was on the treadmill."  He set his coffee aside and got a bottle of water from the fridge.  "I'm glad you feel like you can help yourselves, though."

"Cat was here," Joey pointed out.  "She didn't stop us."

JC just chuckled.  "Don't bring my wife into this."

Cat twisted her wedding ring around her finger, wondering if anyone else thought it was strange for JC to call her his wife.  What kind of wife was she?  One that couldn't even sleep in the same bed as her husband.  Feeling too guilty to continue to sit in the kitchen and play the role of someone she so clearly wasn't meant to be, Cat stood abruptly to leave.

"Did you get breakfast?" JC called after her, and she hesitated in the doorway. 

"Maybe later.  I'm...just gonna go for a swim," she said, not waiting for his approval before heading for the stairs.  As she changed into a swimsuit up in the bedroom, she wondered if maybe she should have.

When she came back down, Cat turned at the bottom of the stairs to head straight through the living room to the back doors, but she couldn't help but pause when voices from the kitchen echoed out into the foyer.

"I just feel like she isn't really happy to be here.  I don't know."

"She has to be a little bit happy.  It's probably just going to take time to adjust."

"Yeah, maybe.  It's like I'm holding her prisoner or something."

"It's barely been 24 hours, dude.  Give it time."

JC and Joey.  Not wanting to let on that she'd overheard, Cat tiptoed down into the living room and out the door to the patio, not even daring to breathe until she was outside.

As it turned out, the treacherous staircase to the beach was a welcome diversion to Cat's swirling thoughts.  She had no choice but to concentrate on what was right in front of her, lest she trip and fall to a very painful death.  By the time she made it to the bottom, all she wanted was to get in the water, which looked calm, blue, and completely inviting.  She tossed her towel down in the sand and dove into the surf.  As soon as the coolness of the surging salt water hit her skin, Cat felt okay again.

She swam about a meter out and turned around, floating on her back in the nearly-still water as she looked up at the house on the cliff.  The home JC had bought for her.  Her home.

She wasn't sure how long she stayed out there, but by the time Cat toweled off and made the long trek back up the stairs, her stomach was growling like crazy.  She didn't bother going upstairs to rinse off and change, instead making a beeline for the kitchen, which was now thankfully deserted.

Cat wasn't exactly used to preparing her own meals - the center had a kitchen with set mealtimes.  For the first couple of months, she'd been allowed to take meals alone in her room.  But after that, Dr. Wheylan mandated that she needed to get over her fear of others and start going down to the dining room like everyone else.  It had been hellish torture at first, but she'd gotten used to it.  She never made friends, but by the end of her stay, she was able to at least sit next to someone else without her skin crawling.

Here, Cat had a fully-stocked pantry and refrigerator at her disposal, and no idea where to start.  She stood in front of the open fridge for a moment, surveying its contents critically.  Eventually, she decided on leftovers from the previous night's dinner, and pulled the carton out of the fridge to set on the counter, along with a bottle of water.

One thing JC apparently hadn't accounted for in the new kitchen was the higher shelves.  The coffee mugs and glassware was within reach, but the plates towered on the third shelf, just a little too high for her.  Cat used the counter for leverage, using one arm to push herself up precariously as the other groped for a plate.

"Need some help?"

Startled, Cat slipped, and the plate she'd just grabbed came crashing down.  She managed to step back before it cracked over her head, but a shard jumped up and sliced the back of her forearm.  JC was by her side in an instant. 

"Don't move," he instructed.  "You have bare feet." 

Cat looked down to see that the plate had literally shattered into a million pieces, all over the counter and the floor around her.  "Fuck."

"It's okay," JC assured her, then grasped her elbows so that she would look at him.  "Hey, it's okay.  Look, I'm gonna pick you up so you don't cut yourself on any of this.  Alright?"

He made deliberate eye contact with her, waiting for her approval.  Cat didn't see much of a choice, so she nodded.  JC bent down and lifted her legs, Cat wrapping her arms around his neck on instinct.  For a brief moment, he held her close, close enough for Cat to feel his heart beating in his chest, and then it was over.  He set her back down outside of the area of destruction, and left her to grab a broom and a dustpan from a closet nearby. 

"The plates are up a little high," she said sheepishly, and JC smirked as he cleaned up her mess.

"I guess that's my bad.  I'll move them."

Cat forgot that her arm was cut until she felt a drop of blood drip down the back of it and into her palm.  She grabbed a paper towel to staunch the flow, feeling like an idiot. 

JC finished cleaning up the plate in record time and dumped the broken pieces in the trash.   "Are you cut?" he asked, noticing the bloody paper towel.

"Just a little," she said, not wanting him to fuss over her.  As it were, she didn't need to be concerned, because all JC did was get a band-aid from the guest bathroom off the foyer.  He helped her put it on but he didn't make a big deal over it.

"Sorry about the plate," Cat said when the ordeal was through.  JC waved away her apology and got down a fresh one for her, setting it on the counter next to the carton of leftovers.

"It's fine."  He leaned against the counter across from her, crossing his arms over his waist.  He'd changed from his workout clothes that Cat had found so oddly attractive earlier, into a pair of jeans and a gray v-neck t-shirt.  "I'm sorry about those guys being here this morning.  I forgot about the meeting with Chad, and Joey's just been coming by whenever.  I didn't even think that they might startle you."

Cat shrugged.  "It doesn't matter.  It's your house."

She hadn't mean her words to come out as flippantly as they did, but it was too late.  JC's brow furrowed and Cat knew that the damage was done.

"It's our house, Cat," he said, sounding calm but Cat could read the hurt beneath.

"I didn't mean..." But Cat trailed off because she wasn't sure what she had meant.

"I know it's weird right now, but..." JC paused, splaying his hands out on the counter between them and looking pained.  "I just want you to feel comfortable here.  And if you don't, then we leave and try somewhere else.  This...it's important to me."

He didn't elaborate, but Cat knew what "it" was.  That they be a real, functioning couple.  A family.  She felt chastened, even though she knew that wasn't JC's intent. 

"Okay," she said, not sure where to go from there.  "I'll...I'm trying."

JC didn't look up at her, just nodded.  "I'll be downstairs working if you need anything."

Cat watched his back as he retreated, her appetite suddenly gone.

 

For the next week, Cat did whatever she could to make JC believe she was comfortable in his/their house.  She went for a swim every morning, usually before JC even got up, and spent the days trying to familiarize herself with the house.  The center had been twice its size, of course, but she'd really only spent time in a few areas.  Here, she had free run of pretty much wherever she wanted.  It was a lot to take in. 

The one thing she hadn't managed to do was spend a full night in bed with JC.  Every night, she waited until she was sure he was asleep, then snuck down to sleep on the couch for as long as she could.  It wasn't for lack of trying - each night, Cat tried her hardest to will herself to sleep, but whenever she felt close, JC would move or make a noise and she was wide awake.

By the time the weekend rolled around again, she was just starting to get restless (there was only so many times she could roam aimlessly about the house) when JC asked if she wanted to help him downstairs.

"Most of the construction's done, so now we're just waiting on the sound equipment and finishing touches," he told her.  "But I could use some help unpacking things and organizing."

Back at the Hollywood house, JC's studio was his veritable sanctuary.  Cat was allowed down there, of course (unless the red light over the door was on, which meant anyone who even knocked had potentially thrown thousands of dollars of recording down the drain without knowing it), but she'd never felt particularly welcome.  In the studio, JC was all business and it made her nervous, so she usually stayed away.  JC asking her to help with something studio related was unprecedented.

"Are you sure?" she asked, loading their plates from lunch into the dishwasher.  "I don't want to screw anything up."

JC laughed.  "You won't.  Come on."

Cat followed him down the hallway past the stairs that led to the back quadrant of the house.  There was another bedroom down there (making a total of five) and another wide room that JC called the den that overlooked the far side of the backyard.  Additionally, a lone door led to a set of hardwood-stairs down to the basement.

"I need to get carpet put on these," JC muttered, seemingly to himself, as they made their way down. 

JC opened the door that led into the basement, ushering Cat inside first.  It looked like, at one point in time, the underground space was a nicely arranged area, whether used for a family room or a game room (though Cat wasn't sure why anyone would need yet another room to use in this enormous house).  Now, however, it was in a relative shambles - the part of the room that would function for mixing and holding all the other important equipment that cost more money than Cat could even begin to imagine, was wholly unfinished, with large gaps in the countertops waiting for soundboards and computers and what not.  The soundproof glass that would separate that area from the live room was missing, but beyond the countertop lay a wide space, large enough to hold every type of instrument, but for now was only home to a baby grand piano and a couple of amps stacked in the corner.  The room had already been carpeted and soundproofed, and a vocal isolation booth had been sectioned off in the corner closest to the studio.

"It's a work in progress," JC said from somewhere behind her.  "I should be able to get most of the equipment in by next week."

"It looks great," Cat admitted.  It seemed like this basement was much bigger than the one at the Hollywood house.  There was even a set of built-in shelves off to the side of the studio.  "What are those for?"

"Those are what I need your help with," JC said.  He motioned towards the unopened cardboard boxes in front of the shelving.  "I thought, since I had the room, I'd keep awards and whatnot down here."  He shrugged.  "I figured you'd be better than I was at deciding what looked good where and...you know."

Cat had seen all of JC's awards before, of course - though at the Hollywood house, he'd had an entire room devoted to them.  When they were dating, she'd been unsure of what to expect upon her first visit to his home.  Would he have Grammies just lying around all over the place, like paperweights?  But she'd been surprised when he'd shown her a small spare bedroom upstairs that functioned as his awards room.  It really wasn't much, and JC himself admitted that he rarely went in there.

"It's a place to put things that I'm not really sure what to do with," he'd said.  "I'm sure there's a more creative way to display them, but...I guess I'm not sure how to do that without seeming showy."

His clear concern for her feelings about him and his celebrity status had been touching for Cat.  It was obvious that he was proud of what he had done with NSYNC, but not in an overbearing way, and it didn't seem like that was an easy feat. 

The studio seemed like a perfect place to put all of these awards and trophies - a place they could be adequately admired without being the center of attention.  "Okay.  I can do that."

She sat on the floor to unpack the boxes, JC in a chair nearby to help her unwrap everything from nests of packing peanuts and bubble wrap.  It was weird for Cat to see all of this stuff up close and handle everything from a Nickelodeon Kid's Choice Award to an MTV Moonman.  It was sort of surreal.  Additionally, Cat felt strange about this stuff as it had occurred across a span of JC's life that she wasn't at all familiar with.  She hadn't ever been much of a pop music fan, although she would have been just about the right demographic for the music's fanbase.  When Cat did have time to listen to music in college, it was mostly the alternative radio stations typical to most campuses, or oldies (a holdover from growing up with her dad).  She'd heard of NSYNC, sure, just like she'd heard of the Backstreet Boys or Madonna, but she hadn't even known what their music sounded like, let alone what the actual band members looked like, or that she'd be married to one of them someday.

Once they'd unwrapped all of the trophies, Cat set them aside to be determined for shelving later.  She wanted to get a feel of what else there was to display before she started making arrangements, and there was still a whole box left. 

"What's in here?" she asked, already pulling it towards her. 

"Um.  I don't know," JC admitted.  "It may have gotten stuck down here by mistake."

Inside the box, Cat found a stack of old vinyl records beneath a few framed photographs.

"Oh, jeez," JC sighed, rubbing  his temples.  "We don't need to put this stuff out."

"What is it?"  Cat pulled out one of the photographs and unwrapped it before he could get it away from her.  "Oh...wow."

"Don't," JC pleaded, trying to look serious even as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.  "Seriously."

A laugh bubbled up from Cat's throat, uncontrollable, as she set the framed photo down on a shelf and reached for another.  "These are definitely going up."

In the box was a collection of pictures from JC's "dance days" - photos of him in sparkly costumes and funky poses, interspersed with headshots from his Disney Channel years.  Obviously somebody (Cat was guessing her mother-in-law) had taken the time to lovingly frame each one and pack them away carefully.  Cat had never seen any pictures like this, even at JC's parents' home in Florida, and figured this box must have been buried somewhere in JC's old garage, untouched for a very specific reason.

"Come on."  JC sighed and leaned back in his chair as she finished unwrapping and setting out the small collection of frames.  "There's no way I'm leaving those out, honey."

Cat couldn't help but smile to herself as she emptied the rest of the box.  JC called almost everyone "honey", so it wasn't necessarily a special endearment, but she was pleased to find that her heart still warmed a bit when he said it.  That had to be good, right?

"What are these?"  She pulled out the stack of records at the bottom of the box and held them in her lap.  JC raised his eyebrow at her.

"Those are records."

"I know that."  Cat shot him a look.  "Why were they in the box with your old pictures?"

"My mom probably boxed them up from their old house." 

He held out his hands and Cat handed him a stack of the records, keeping a few for herself.  Some looked fairly old - there was a Rolling Stones album and another by Elton John. 

"Some of these were my dad's, I think.  But this one was mine."  JC held up a worn Janet Jackson record and Cat smiled.  She knew more than anyone that JC's music preferences ran towards cheesy R&B, every time.

"We should put these out," Cat suggested.  "Maybe even frame a few."

"Okay," JC agreed, handing her the rest of the albums.  "Whatever you think.  I'll take the box of dance photos, though."

Cat spent the remainder of the afternoon dusting down the shelving units and polishing trophies while JC finished putting up the acoustic tiles in the vocal booth.  It was easy, relaxing work, and Cat felt good about being able to help out in some way rather than just sit upstairs and watch Friends reruns.

At one point, JC disappeared upstairs to find something and returned with a cordless phone in hand.  Cat hadn't even known there was a landline - he used his cell phone for everything. 

"It's for you," he said, holding the phone out towards her with his hand over the mouthpiece.  "It's Adam."

Cat blinked, unsure for a moment of how to respond.  "Oh.  Thanks."

She wiped her hands off on her shorts and took the phone, hesitating for a moment, but JC went right back into the vocal booth without lingering.  She went upstairs before pressing her ear to the receiver, anyway. 

"H-hello?"

"Cat?"  Her brother's voice sounded abnormally far away - Cat couldn't remember the last time she'd talked on a telephone.  At the center, everyone who'd wanted to see her came to visit and they'd talked in person.  She hadn't had a phone in her room, but there was one in the lobby if she needed to get a hold of anyone.  Which she never did. 

"Um, hey."  She wandered into the den, which was dim and cool.  The only furniture inside was a half-filled bookshelf and a leather armchair, which she sank into. 

"Hey."  Adam paused for a moment, and Cat could picture him biting his lip.  "So, you're home."

"Yeah.  Yeah, I got home last week."  Cat drummed her fingers on her knee awkwardly.  "Didn't JC call you?"

"He did, but I was kind of waiting for you to call," Adam replied, as if that should have been obvious.  "So was Dad."

"Sorry."

"That's all you have to say?  Sorry?"  Cat rolled her eyes, already frustrated.

"Yeah, I'm sorry.  Sorry that this is the first time I've ever checked out of rehab.  I guess I don't know the protocol yet."

"Don't get defensive," Adam sighed.  "I didn't call to give you a hard time."

Then why did you call? Cat thought about asking but didn't.  She and Adam typically got along alright, but it took effort, usually more on her end than his.  "Okay.  So what's up?"

"How are you?" Adam asked, thankfully sounding genuine.  "Do you need anything?"

Cat looked around the empty room, picturing the rest of the house in her mind.  Did she need anything?  An unopened box sat nearby with Cat's books written on the side in JC's handwriting.  If he had it his way, JC would make sure that she never needed anything ever again.  "No, I'm fine.  I'm doing fine."

Adam asked about the new house and Cat told him about it in vague detail, spending more time discussing the beach rather than the interior. 

"So you like it," Adam said. 

Cat nodded, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't see her.  "Yeah, I like it.  It feels more like home than the house in Hollywood."

The conversation reached a little bit of a lull and Cat could practically hear Adam rubbing his temples. 

"Well, look.  Dad wants to get together, but he also wants to give you your space.  So...when you're ready...I know he really wants to see you."

"Okay."  Cat's father was a no-frills kind of guy, and she could count the number he'd visited her at the center on one hand.  She didn't take it personally, though - she knew it was hard for him to see her in a place like that.  "Maybe we can have dinner somewhere.  You, me, and Dad...and JC, probably.  Oh, and Lindsay."

Adam cleared his throat.  "Yeah, Lindsay and I broke up like 6 months ago."

Whoops.  "Sorry."

"It's alright.  I just started dating a girl from work.  It's pretty casual, but maybe I'll invite her."

"Sure," Cat agreed, trying her best to sound easygoing.  "Maybe next week?"  She briefly wondered if she should run this by JC first.  Was this one of those couple things she hadn't been married long enough to get? 

They decided on a day and a time and a restaurant, one of their father's favorite Italian places in San Pedro.  "So, you'll be there?"

Adam sounded so disbelieving that Cat sighed.  "Yes, Adam, I'll be there.  I'm not trying to avoid you guys, I'm just...it's taking some time to get used to being normal again."

"Alright," Adam said slowly.  She could tell by the hesitation in his voice that he didn't understand, but she didn't know how to make him understand, either.  "Well, see you next week."

After they hung up, Cat sat in the chair for awhile, staring at the ceiling.  The sunlight came through the closed blinds on the window in slits, making a flickering pattern on the ceiling, so she watched it move until the rolling in her stomach calmed down.

When she felt stable enough to get out of the chair, Cat sat down next to the box of books with her name on it.  She pulled the packing tape off and opened up the top.  Her books were inside, just like the label professed, and right on top was the thick Citizens of the Sea book her father had gotten her for her tenth birthday.  The cover was scuffed and the pages were worn with overuse, but seeing the book again sparked such warm and happy memories of childhood in Cat that she actually picked the book up and hugged it close to her. 

She was still holding the book with one arm, and poking through the rest of the box with her other, when JC appeared in the doorway.

"I meant to unpack those," he said.  "I guess I just never got around to it."

He sounded a little nervous, as if he was afraid that he'd hurt her feelings, but Cat just shrugged. 

"It's fine.  I like unpacking books."  It was true - there was something magical about taking the time to stop and leaf through each one, smelling the old book smells, finding long-forgotten bookmarks and dog-eared pages, and then placing them lovingly on the shelf in alphabetical-by-author order.  At least, that's how she preferred to do it.

"So, Adam called," JC said, still leaning against the doorframe and clearly trying hard not to be nosy.  "Everything good?"

"Yeah, fine."  Cat considered telling him about Adam's attitude about her not calling sooner, but for some reason she held back.  She wasn't sure why - she'd used to complain about her brother to JC all the time.  That had been one of the nicer things about being married, having someone around to listen to you rant about crap that no one else was really obligated cared about.  "Um, I told him we'd go to dinner with my dad next week.  Wednesday."  She looked up to gauge his reaction.  "Is that...okay?"

JC nodded.  "Yeah, definitely."  He shuffled his feet a bit on the cream colored carpet.  "I, uh, talked to your dad the day before you came home.  I think he just wanted to give you your space."

That seemed to be the general consensus between Adam and JC, but Cat knew the truth was that her dad really didn't know at all how to handle this situation, so it was easier to just stay away. 

"Are you done downstairs?" Cat asked, ready to change the subject.

"Yeah, pretty much."  He stifled a yawn.  "You wanna watch a movie?"

Cat glanced at her pile of books waiting to be shelved, then back at JC.  He looked so inordinately hopeful that she couldn't possibly turn him down.  "Sure."

As usual, they sat next to each other on the couch, with about a cushion's worth of space in between them, JC wielding the remote as he scrolled through the Pay-Per-View choices at light speed.

"How about this?  Or, this one?  I heard it was good from...somebody.  Oh, this one got great reviews."

Cat could hardly keep up so she pulled a throw blanket over her knees and shrugged.  "They all sound good."

JC chose a movie and tossed the remote to the side.  Cat shifted to get comfortable, curling her legs under her and leaning back.  Her head bumped JC's hand, tossed over the back of the couch behind her, and their eyes met.  Cat almost opened her mouth to murmur an apology, but something told her JC didn't want to hear that.  He smiled at her, reaching down for a moment to brush her hair out of her eyes before putting his hand back where it was. 

Cat turned back toward the TV screen, her heart in her throat. 

 

Three days later, JC was waiting for Cat on the patio when she made her way back up the stairs after her morning swim. 

"You're up early," she noted.  For a moment, she wondered if she'd swam longer than she'd thought, but the sun was still hiding on the other side of their house, leaving most of the patio still in the cool shade of early morning.  "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine."  JC sat at the small iron patio table, wearing sweatpants, one of the throw blankets from the couch wrapped around his upper body.  His hair was a mess and his eyes were still squinty with sleep, but he smiled at her and motioned for her to join him at the table, where two cups of steaming coffee sat waiting.

She sat down, tucking her towel over her bathing suit, and took a sip.  He'd made it just the way she liked it - plenty of cream and one heaping spoonful of sugar.

"So...is something going on?" she asked finally, running her finger along the rim of the coffee mug.  "You never get up before 7 if you can help it."

JC just smiled.  "I have to go into the city today for some recording.  I need to leave at about 8."  He leaned back in his chair and smiled at her.  "You should come."

Cat watched the steam rise from her coffee.  "Come...to the studio?"

"Yeah, why not."  JC shrugged one of his shoulders, leaning forward to wrap both of his hands around his coffee cup.  "Better than hanging out here alone all day.  Right?"

Cat wasn't sure about that, but she also knew JC wouldn't have come out here and invited her if he didn't really want her to go.  She needed to tread carefully.

"I don't want to be in the way."

"You won't," he assured her.

She tried a different angle.  "You're always so busy in the studio.  I might get bored."

"Today's a bit more chill," JC replied without missing a beat.  "I just have one song to work on.  It'll be fun.  It shouldn't take more than a couple hours.  We can get lunch afterwards, or maybe go shopping?"

Cat made a face.  She'd never liked shopping as much as JC did - then again, he'd had years to get used to spending exorbitant amounts of money on menial things.  Cat still struggled with dropping $200 for a belt. 

"Or no shopping," JC amended.  "We can do whatever you want.  You might enjoy getting out of the house for a little bit."

"I get out of the house every day," Cat countered, motioning down towards the beach.

"You know what I mean."

She knew.  He meant the getting out of the house that actually required seeing people, maybe even talking to them.

"You don't have to," JC said, already sounding disappointed.  Cat knew then that she absolutely did.

"I'll go," she said.  "Maybe it will be fun."

A couple hours later, sitting in traffic on the 110 while JC flipped radio stations every twelve seconds, Cat was beginning to regret her decision.

"Maybe you could just pick one," she suggested, glancing across the car at JC.  He'd insisted on taking the black two-door Mercedes instead of the Jeep because he "didn't drive it enough" or something.  It wasn't that Cat didn't like the car, she just liked it a lot more when she didn't have to be inside of it.  It was too low to the ground and didn't have a lot of leg room, and it felt...flashy.  She knew that it wasn't really, not in Los Angeles, the land of Mazeratis and Aston Martins galore.  But, still.

"How's this?"  JC tuned the radio to Jack FM, the station that had always been one of Cat's favorites due to their eclectic mix of classic rock, 80s pop, and 90s alternative.  JC, on the other hand, hated it.

"Thanks," she said, feeling bad for snapping at him.  JC's habit of flipping through radio stations constantly was one of his many ticks that she thought she'd gotten used to over the years. 

With traffic, it took over an hour to get to the studio, which was in the heart of Hollywood on La Brea Avenue.  JC's phone rang as he pulled into the parking lot.

"I'm here, I'm here," he answered.  "Give me a break, man, I'm still getting used to the commute."

Again, Cat felt tendrils of shame creep up to prod her on the shoulder.  If it weren't for her, JC would still be living minutes from this studio.

Whoever was on the other end must not have been too serious, however, because JC ended the conversation with a laugh as he pulled into a parking space marked RESERVED.  "Alright.  I'll see you inside in a second."

Cat followed JC into the lobby, already feeling out of place and wishing she hadn't agreed to come.  The building was fairly nondescript on the outside, but the inside was lavishly decorated in rich tones, with burgundy walls and expensive lighting fixtures.  The girl behind the desk was on the phone, but she waved at JC with a wide smile and pressed a button that allowed them entrance to a side hallway. 

"This is where they write in the studio assignments for the day," JC explained to Cat, motioning to a large whiteboard that was mounted on the wall just inside the door to the hall.  "This place is really great because there's just four studios and a mix room, it's usually pretty quiet."  As it were, there was only two slots on the board filled, but before Cat could read the words written down in neat script, a voice from further down the hall interrupted them.

"Josh, is that you?"

For a moment, Cat was confused - there was no one else in the hallway but her and JC, who was Josh?  But when JC turned around, she realized that the greeting had been directed toward JC.  Almost no one called JC "Josh", except for his parents and siblings.

"Hey, Quinn."  JC waved at the tall dark-haired woman that was coming down the hall toward them.  "Long time no see."

"No kidding."  Quinn didn't stop walking until she was in arm's reach of JC, and promptly leaned in to give him a familiar kiss on the cheek.  "It's been ages.  What have you been up to?"

"Oh, you know."  JC waved his hand in the air as if to simulate everything he'd been doing.  "Little of this, little of that." 

Cat watched their exchange silently, wishing she could cease to exist in this stupid hallway.  Quinn, whoever she was, was potentially one of the most beautiful women Cat had ever seen up close.  Her skin was flawless, her hair was dark and shiny, tumbling to her shoulders in the kind of effortless wave that Cat had never been able to perfect.  In heels, she was as tall as JC, which meant even without them she was probably an Amazon...her legs seemed to go for days beneath the skirt of the smart black business suit she wore.  Cat suddenly felt short and inadequate in jeans and a tank top, her own hair pulled back unceremoniously into a low, boring ponytail.

"Uh, sorry, Quinn.  This is my wife, Cat."  JC took a step back to motion towards her, and Quinn's eyes widened for only a moment before she recovered.

"It's so wonderful to meet you."  She held out her hand, perfectly manicured, of course, and Cat shook it politely.  "Josh has told me so much about you."

Cat didn't doubt that, but it didn't make her feel much better.  "It's...nice to meet you."

"Quinn is the assistant studio manager here," JC explained.  "Alec's not in today?"

"Ugh, he's in London, working with Wyclef Jean," Quinn replied, tossing her mane of hair over one shoulder.  "I should be so lucky, right?"

She shrugged as if to say "oh well", and motioned behind her.  "You guys are in D today, I believe."

"Great.  Thanks."  JC rested one hand on the small of Cat's back as they moved past Quinn in the direction of whatever "D" was.  "Tell Alec I said hi, if you talk to him."

"Will do," Quinn replied.  "Lovely to meet you."

Cat wasn't sure what to say so she just smiled awkwardly and allowed JC to usher her the rest of the way down the hall.

"Here we are."  They stopped outside of a door with a large golden D mounted in the center, and JC knocked briefly before pulling it open.  Inside, a man sat at a large console, his back to them.

"About time," he griped before spinning around in his chair.  His eyes widened when he saw Cat.  "Oh."

"Brad, you remember Cat," JC supplied, stepping in behind her and closing the door. 

"Right, yeah.  We met at that, uh, thing."  Brad stood up to offer her his hand.  "Good to see you again."

Cat didn't really remember the guy, although his face looked slightly familiar, but she shook his hand anyway and agreed that it was good to see him again.  Frankly, she was just relieved to see that JC didn't work exclusively with six-foot-tall models.

The studio was roomy, with a large live room and two isolation booths positioned at the back of it.  There was no one else there except for JC and Brad, and the lights in the live room were off, so Cat assumed they were working on the final processes of an already recorded piece.  She stayed out of the way in the lounge section of the control room, where a plush leather couch and a coffee table loaded with magazines and that morning's newspapers kept her company. 

Cat picked up the latest Rolling Stone to leave through, but found herself distracted by watching JC.  As always, as soon as he entered the studio, he buckled down into serious producer mode.  Even though he didn't even glance back at her as he twisted knobs and adjusted levers on the console, there was something undeniably sexy about watching him work.  Cat felt the same embarrassing tingly feeling she'd had two weeks ago when JC had come into the kitchen after his workout.  It felt just as foreign as it had then, but Cat diligently reminded herself that it was okay (good, even) to think that her husband was sexy.  Because JC was her husband.  They were married.

Cat flipped another page in the magazine and stared blankly down at an article about Shakira, the words blending together on the page.  Even though she had hardly gone a week or two without seeing JC while she was at the center, it was still three years of their marriage lost.  Almost as if they'd never actually gotten married in the first place, but Cat knew that wasn't true.  After all, she could still remember their wedding day vividly.

 

Cat sat at the dressing table, trying not to move lest she wrinkle her dress too much.  She'd finally gotten a moment of silence - now that her hair and makeup were done, her dress on, all that was left was to wait.  The small crowd of attendants that had been crowded around her all morning and afternoon had finally disappeared, and Cat was totally alone in the small room that the hotel had set aside for her to get ready in.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, resisting the urge to chew on the bottom lip that had been perfectly stained and glossed already.  It wasn't that she didn't recognize herself with her hair done and makeup on - she'd specifically requested a natural look (even though she'd found out looking natural with makeup on took ten times more effort than without) - but there was something surreal in knowing that she was taking the last look at herself as an officially single woman.

It wasn't that Cat had been opposed to marriage growing up.  It was more that she didn't really think of it at all.  She hadn't grown up with parents that had romanticized and exemplified the experience - her dad had never remarried, and although her mom was now on her third husband, Cat had never met any of her technical step-fathers.  Her mom wasn't even at the wedding - she'd sent a card with a check and a quick message explaining that she would be on business in Aruba for the next two months, but congratulations anyway. 

As far as Cat was concerned, marriage was just an expensive ceremony performed in front of a bunch of people looking forward to a free meal.  She hadn't been sure if she'd ever partake in that sort of thing, and if she did, it would probably happen much later in life - she had things she wanted to accomplish, after all.

At least, that's how she'd felt until JC came along.

Where Cat was a skeptic, he was a romantic.  He'd spent months planning the perfect proposal and picking out the right ring, while Cat was none the wiser.  It hadn't even occurred to her that JC might want to marry her someday until he'd asked.  In fact, she'd been so shocked at his proposal that she'd almost said no - they hadn't been dating long enough to get engaged, had they?  But it had been a year, and JC seemed more than ready.

"Please say something," he'd urged her, down on his knee in front of her with the ring box open and waiting.  He'd taken her to a secluded overlook on a hill above the city, private property that he'd somehow finagled access to.  Maybe that should have been the tip-off, but Cat couldn't shake her dead surprise.  "Cat?"

"I'm...sorry, I'm just...surprised," she murmured finally.  "I wasn't expecting this...at all."

JC lowered the ring box, looking as grave as he had giddy moments later, when he'd delivered the thoughtful and heartfelt speech about why he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.  "At all?"

"No," she admitted.  She longed to ask him to stand up, it was weird talking like this as he knelt down in front of her, but she'd already ruined his moment enough.  "JC, this is...wow."

"That was kind of the point," he replied wryly.  "Do you have an answer for me, or should I get up?"

He sounded so disappointed that Cat felt her own heart sink in her chest.  In a split-second, she considered her relationship with JC - how it had lasted longer than she'd expected, been easier and better than she'd imagined, and how, looking down at this man, she'd really, truly come to love him and the person he was. 

In the time it took her to think all of these things through, JC had already given up.  He snapped the ring box closed.  "Okay then."

"No!" Cat exclaimed, resting her hands on his shoulders so that he wouldn't stand.  "I mean, yes.  I...yes."

JC frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together in that totally cute way that showed he was genuinely confused. 

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I'll marry you," Cat confirmed.

JC looked dubious.  "You're saying yes?"

"Yes, I'm saying yes."  Cat laughed a little bit, even as her heart raced inside her chest, afraid she'd missed her opportunity.  "Definitely, definitely yes."

JC stood up and pulled Cat into his arms.  "Jesus Christ.  I think I had a heart attack.  First time I ever propose to a girl and I think she's going to turn me down flat."

Cat wrapped her arms around his neck with another laugh.  She was engaged.  "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."  JC pulled back slightly, still holding the ring box.  "Can we do this thing?"

Cat nodded and allowed him to take the ring out of the box and slide it into her finger.  It was dark up there on the hill and she could barely see the stone, but it didn't really matter.  "It's beautiful."

Now, in the dressing room, Cat looked down at her left hand and let the diamond catch the light from the open window.  She was really going to do this.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and JC's mom stuck her head in. 

"Are you ready?" she asked, and Cat looked at the reflection of her almost-mother-in-law in the mirror.  She'd chosen a lilac dress that brought out the color of her kind eyes.  "It's time."

Cat took a deep breath and stood up.  "I'm ready."

Karen accompanied her out to the pavilion where the wedding party waited.  The music had already started outside (they'd chosen a very simple three-piece orchestra over the ridiculously priced harpist), and Cat could see through the French doors that JC was already waiting in front of a small crowd with the minister. They'd decided to keep the wedding party itself as small as the ceremony - JC had his brother and Cat had her college roommate, Kira. 

Cat watched, that surreal feeling coming back, as JC's parents went out, followed by Tyler and Kira.  Joey's little six-year-old daughter was the flower girl, and she was clearly a seasoned pro, carefully sprinkling flowers over the white runner with care.

"Cathy."  Cat looked up to see her father waiting, holding his arm out for her to slip hers through.  "Having second thoughts?"

Cat rolled her eyes at her dad's half-assed attempt at humor.  As a man who had a hard time coping with actual emotion, it was one of his only defenses.  "No, Daddy.  I'm good."

"It's not too late to back out," he continued, but stopped when Cat gave him a look.  "Okay, okay."

Walking down the aisle was hard for Cat.  She wasn't used to having crowds of people stare at her like JC was, and as the music changed and all of the guests stood, Cat almost couldn't make her legs work to carry her out the doors.  She kept her eyes on JC rather than the smiling faces watching her every move.  JC was smiling too, but in a way that comforted and reassured Cat that, yes, she was doing the right thing here.

The ceremony went by in a blur, so did the pictures afterward, and Cat didn't even really get a chance to talk to JC, just JC, until the reception as they danced their first dance.

"Are you happy?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear, and Cat leaned into his shoulder and closed her eyes.

"Yes."

 

Remembering how she'd felt that day was a powerful feeling, and Cat allowed it to soak in.  Lost in all the awkwardness of learning how to live with JC again had gotten in the way of remembering how truly happy she had been to marry him in the first place.  Maybe that was what she had forgotten in that first year, struggling to fit into JC's Hollywood life and find her place somehow in a world that felt totally unfamiliar to her.  Maybe that's what had gotten in the way.

Cat was determined not to let that happen again.  She turned another page in the magazine, almost tearing it in her fervor.  Maybe it was true that a woman like Quinn would fit much better with JC than she would, maybe.  But JC had chosen her, and Cat would have to remember that.   She had to admit, however, that the thing that bothered her most about Quinn was not her extreme attractiveness.  It was the affectionate familiarity with which she treated JC, the way she grasped his elbow and kissed his cheek, the way she called him Josh.  Even Cat didn't call him his given name, because that wasn't what he went by and that wasn't how he'd introduced himself to her.  It made her mad that Quinn somehow thought she had the privilege to bridge that gap.

Cat gave up the pretense of looking at the magazine and was more or less staring off into space when JC called her name.   She glanced up, startled to see him sitting on the coffee table in front of her. 

"Sorry that took so long," he said, looking appropriately apologetic, and Cat glanced at her watch to see how long she'd been sitting there - it was almost noon.  Her stomach growled as if to underscore the time.

"It's fine."  Cat glanced down at the closed magazine in her lap.  "I was...reading."

If JC noticed the discrepancy, he didn't say so.  "Ready to go?  I'm starving."

They said goodbye to Brad, and just like that, they were on their way.  The hallway was blessedly empty, and Cat relaxed slightly.  Unfortunately, the lobby wasn't quite as deserted.

Quinn was at the front desk with the receptionist, leafing through a few sheets of paper, and Cat held her breath, hoping that she wouldn't notice them.  Of course, that was impossible, and she glanced up at them with a sly smile.

"Leaving already?"

"Yep."  JC tossed a casual smile and wave at Quinn.  "See you next time."

"Looking forward to it," Quinn replied breezily.  Cat felt her ego deflate slightly, then she remembered what she'd resolved to in the studio.  She was JC's wife - Quinn wasn't.  It was that simple. 

Caught in the moment, Cat reached for JC's hand, linking her fingers through his.  She could tell she'd caught him off guard, but to his credit, all he did was squeeze her hand in his larger one and hold the door open for her.  The doors were glass, and despite the glare from the early afternoon sunlight, Cat could just see Quinn inside, watching them as the door swung shut.

"Where do you want to go for lunch?" JC asked, patting down his pockets for his car keys.  "I really feel like a hot dog."

"JC."  Cat tugged on his hand to turn him towards her.  He glanced up at her absentmindedly.

"Hm?"

Before she could second guess herself, Cat reached for him, pulling him close via the lapels of his jacket, like a bad rom com.  JC must have been too startled to react, because he did virtually nothing as Cat leaned up on her tiptoes to press her lips against his.  Kissing JC for the first time in three years was a lot of things - it was slightly awkward and understandably foreign, but it was also familiar and comforting.  He tasted like spearmint, just like always, and after a moment's hesitation, his arms wrapped around her back and pulled her in close.

Cat was the first to ease back, keeping her hands pressed against his chest.  JC blinked down at her, his brow furrowing slightly.  She thought for a moment he was going to question her, but instead, he just shook his head and said, "Wow."

Feeling slightly embarrassed but also empowered, Cat took a step back and restrained herself from looking back into the lobby triumphantly.  "Hot dogs sound good."

JC frowned.  "What?"

"For lunch.  Hot dogs," Cat clarified, and he nodded slowly, his eyes clearing. 

"Oh.  Yeah.  Uh, let's go down to Pink's.  Usually the line isn't too bad on a weekday."

He took her hand again on the way back to the car and opened her door for her.  While he was making his way back around to his side, Cat took a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath.  That wasn't so hard.  That, she could do.