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.