Kate sits up, scrubbing the heels of her hands over her cheeks. Scooting back on the mattress, she folds her legs and rests against the headboard, the cold brass bars pressing hard on her shoulder blades. She'd rented a furnished apartment, hadn't wanted to deal with moving all of her furniture from New York. Castle had offered to hire someone but she'd refused, insisted that this was good enough for now, until they got married and decided on permanent living arrangements.

In this moment, she wishes she had let him rent a truck and tote all of her stuff across three states. She wants her things. Her bed and her couch and her dresser. She wants the familiarity because the one thing, the one part of her life, her home, that has brought her comfort over the past six months no longer does.

Spine straight, she folds her hands in her lap, thumb and index finger of her right hand gripping her ring, twisting it around and around, the band pinching her skin.

"Tell me what happened."

Castle closes his eyes, hands tightening around the edge of the mattress until his knuckles turn white. "Kate, I don't think -"

"I don't really care what you think right now," she bites out, acid burning away the tip of her tongue. "You obviously came here to unburden yourself. What happened?"

She wishes the anger felt better. Wishes it could tear off even a thin layer the of anguish smothering her heart, let her breathe. Castle looks up at her again and she tries not to be affected by the redness rimming his eyes or the forlorn droop of his mouth. The urge to comfort him, to pull him into her arms and run her fingers through his hair, hits her hard. She chokes on it, the wet knot of love and sympathy lodged at the base of her throat.

No.

He does not get to make her feel like that right now. Like the only thing that matters is making things better for him because the thought of him hurting rips her apart.

"Can I -" he says, waving a hand at the foot of the bed.

Kate hesitates. This could be - This could be the last time they share a bed and she's not sure she wants this to be her memory of them. She wants to be able to think about the last time, the real last time. When he held her, his body a wall of heat against her naked back, as they whispered to each other in the dark, hands tangled together between her breasts. She doesn't want to taint that. Not with this.

But then he shifts his feet and winces and she remembers. His knee. The knee he injured showing off for her on their first real vacation together. The knee that prompted her to put on the show of a lifetime just to make him smile, make him happy. Because she loves him.

She nods.

Castle sits, the bare mattress scraping softly against his jeans. He angles his body toward her, bent right leg pulled up on the bed, left knee hooked over his ankle. His hands flutter in his lap, nails picking at the seams on his pants. She wants to reach out and calm him but she doesn't. Won't.

Instead she asks the question again.

"What happened?"

With a shaky sigh, eyes averted from hers, he starts.

"I didn't sleep after we got off the phone that night. I was so angry. Angry with you, with myself, at the situation. I wanted to call you back and try to talk through it again. Hell," he lets out a mirthless chuckle, "I wanted to get on a plane and come here." He looks at her, hands going still in his lap. "I wish I had done that."

Kate doesn't respond.

"I didn't call, though. Or come. Because I was angry and hurt and I knew it'd just lead to more fighting. And I'm so tired of the fighting, Kate."

The band around her heart clicks a notch tighter. They've fought so much over the past four months. So many whispered arguments or all out shouting matches. Every time hurt just a little more. Made her worry about them, about their foundation. She can see them now. The cracks. The long, thin crevices where the doubt trickled in.

"Me too," she whispers. The words come without her permission and she regrets them immediately. Pushing harder against the headboard, she lets the sharp bite of pain pull her back to the present. This is his confession, not hers.

"I tried to write," Castle says after a long pause. "I tried to get it out but the more I typed the more frustrated I got. So after a while, I gave up and started drinking instead." He meets her eye for the first time. "Not a healthy coping mechanism, I know."

Kate tightens her fingers around the ring, the sharp edges of the setting digging into the pad of her thumb. He knows how she feels about alcohol as a crutch. They talked about it at length one night, her head resting on his chest and his fingers combing slowly through her hair as she told him what it had been like during those years with her dad. How she'd become the parent, had to take on the weight of his grief in addition to her own. What it had felt like to watch her father choose the bottle over her again and again. The way it broke her heart to walk away from him in order to save herself.

"I drank until the sun came up. Until I was numb enough to shut off my brain and sleep. I woke up in the afternoon sometime. I wanted to call you. I knew I needed to but - I didn't know what to say. Nothing had changed in the twelve hours since we'd last spoken. So -"

"You started drinking again."

He shakes his head. "No, I sat in front of my computer and stared at blank page. I tried to write you a letter. I wanted to get it out, try to make sense of it. I wanted to apologize for being an asshole and explain why I was upset. I wanted to make it right. But the words just wouldn't come."

Castle takes a deep breath and she follows suit, forces her lungs to expand until they push painfully against her ribs.

This is it.

"I don't know how long I sat there but eventually I just needed to get out. My mother was hovering and I couldn't stop thinking and it was all just smothering me. I intended to just take a walk but found myself in some hole in the wall dive bar."

He looks down at his hands and Kate wants to hit him. Wants to jump across the bed and tilt his head up, make him look at her for this. He owes her that much. Owes it to her to look her in the eye when he tells her how exactly he went about throwing away five and half years - the rest of their lives - in this one night.

But she doesn't move. Doesn't speak a word.

"She sat down next to me about halfway through my second drink. We talked and -" He looks up at her, tears shimmering in his eyes. "Kate, I can't do this. I can't sit here -"

"Yes, you can." She clips the words, steel in her voice to hold up the weak walls of her chest. "I need to hear it."

"Why? Why do you want to do this to yourself?"

Because the things she's imaging are killing her. She needs his words to paint this picture, like so many before it, so she can see it in her mind. Can analyze and deconstruct. Try to find the reason, the key that will make sense of it all. As much as the details are going to hurt, the unknown hurts more.

"I just do," she answers.

Castle turns, sliding his leg off the bed and planting both feet on the floor, shoulders slumped and head hanging. When he finally speaks, it's in a voice so quiet that she has to strain to hear him.

"We talked for a couple of hours. About nothing really. She didn't know who I was and I didn't share. I bought her a few drinks and she kept sliding closer. Leaning into me. Eventually, she put her hand on my thigh and kissed my neck, asked me if I wanted to get out of there. I told her no." Kate hears him swallow and closes her eyes, lets the wispy images in her head swirl and solidify as he continues. "She asked me again two drinks later and I -"

"Said yes."

He doesn't look up, just nods, his hands knotted between his spread knees. "I said yes."

"Why?" The crack in her voice shatters the shoddily erected dam and her tears flow again in earnest. "Why did you leave with her?"

"She was - It was easy. Uncomplicated." The word hits her like an arrow, piercing her thin armor and slicing her heart in two. Fun and uncomplicated. "I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Did you -" The words stick to the back of her tongue. She's not sure she really wants the answer but she makes herself ask anyway. "Did you take her to the loft? Did you have sex with her in our bed?"

Castle spins to face her, his eyes wide. He holds his hands out and moves closer but doesn't touch her. Kate can feel the heat radiating off his body and hates herself for the sudden rush of desire that wells in her chest. She wants to take him. Wants to push him down on mattress, use her mouth and her body to remind him what they are to each other.

What they were.

"No, Kate. No." The urgency in his voice makes her stomach roll. "I would never. Never."

The answer doesn't makes her feel better. He says he wasn't thinking clearly but if he had the presence of mind to not bring her to the loft then -

There's one last thing she needs to know.

"What's her name?"

Castle's hands engulf hers, calming her still fidgeting fingers. His thumbs brush over the insides of her wrists and she desperately attempts to control her breathing, to not let the stuttering of her heart be known. "Kate. That's enough."

"Do you even know?" It's malicious and cold and she tells herself a lie about not caring.

"Yes."

"Then tell me. Tell me her name."

"Charlotte," he whispers, his hands clenching hers, holding on as tightly as he can.

Kate closes her eyes, let's her imagination run free. Charlotte. She builds a sketch around the wireframe of the name, adding and removing details until she can see it. Can she her. Medium height and curvy, her breasts the perfect size to fill his large palms, his open mouth. Short but powerful legs that wrapped around his waist, draped over his shoulders; straight blonde hair that brushed his chest and tangled around his fingers. Bright blue eyes and a rosebud mouth that made him fall apart.

He had sex with a woman named Charlotte.

"I need you to go now."

"Kate."

"Please, Rick," she rasps, throat raw and aching from the tears that won't stop. Kate meets his eyes, tugs one of her hands free. Her left hand. She lays it against his cheek, his stubble scraping her palm. "You need to leave. I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much."

Castle leans in, rests his forehead against hers. His breath washes over her lips and oh god she wants to kiss him. Wants to press her lips to his and forget. Forget the fights and the pain and his betrayal. For just a minute, forget it all.

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did."

His lips brush her temple when he pulls away and she leans into it for a moment before letting her hand fall from his cheek. Kate pulls her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms tightly around her shins, rests her cheek on her knees and closes her eyes. She can't watch him go.

"I love you, Kate," he says, voice broken and too close. "Please don't forget that. I love you."

The bed shifts and she listens as he slowly leaves the apartment, his booted feet thumping against the hardwood. Her sobs break free when she hears the quiet snick of the door latch sliding into place.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts and comments are always appreciated.