The Science of Growing Apart

28- Video Evidence

I woke up sweaty and panting on Saturday morning. I could still feel the grip of Casey's hand around my neck from my dream. I've never been choked during sex before, but Dream Josie has been getting more and more adventurous these days. Especially after he held that strong grip on my wrists on Wednesday. There was really something addictive about feeling Casey take control when he was usually such a quiet, sweet person.

Before I started my day, I took a long shower and pondered every single one of my life choices that put me here. And what on earth Casey meant when he said that he didn't want me to stop.

In the voicemail, I said that I was going to stop loving him because he was engaged and I felt like it was the most obvious conclusion to say that he meant he didn't want me to stop loving him. But why not? Was it just because he liked being adored, or did he actually see something happening between us?

The thought was too much for me to bear, so I tried to push it away. If I ever got it into my head that me and Casey could be more than friends in this reality, this timeline, it would absolutely devastate me if it didn't actually happen. If I was going to let my brain, my heart, ride that train of thought, I needed to know that it was real.

We'd been texting throughout the week and things didn't seem to be too weird, but it was all that I could think about. I asked him how he was feeling and he continued talking about how guilty he felt about not feeling more devastated about the breakup.

We never talked about what he meant when he told me that he didn't want me to stop. I was too afraid to bring it up, especially in his vulnerable state.

His relationship hasn't been over for a week yet, I couldn't bring it up. But still, even through text, that voicemail and the comment he made after felt like an elephant between us.

I was continuing to stew in my thoughts about Casey, including the steamy dream from last night, when I got a call from none other than Dr. Gordon himself around dinner time.

"Hello?" I answered the phone with my fists clenched at my sides, wondering if maybe he was calling me right now to talk about what happened. I wasn't prepared for that conversation and kind of wished I would have thought through answering the phone before I actually did.

"Josie, I need you. It's an emergency," he said on the other end, but his voice was lethargic and slow, not sounding very urgent at all.

"What's going on?" I asked him, feeling more curious than panicked about an emergency.

"I'm drinking alone at a bar on a Saturday night," he informed me, confirming my suspicion that this wasn't really an emergency. "I look like a total loser."

"That does sound like an emergency."

"I'm at Oddfellows. Come rescue me, please?"

I promised Natalie that we would never be alone together, but now that he was broken up with Rebecca, that promise was void... right? "I'll be right there."

Casey was sitting at the bar by himself when I arrived twenty minutes later. His back was facing me, but I could recognize that head of blond curls anywhere.

"Hey, loser," I greeted him as I took the bar stool to his right.

"My hero," he said with a wide smile. I saw him tipsy at dinner last week when he started oversharing about his relationship, but I'd never seen Casey drunk before. His face was flush, he was swaying back and forth, and he had the goofiest grin on his face. "I'm so glad you made it."

"Well, you called," I said dumbly as Casey ordered me a beer from the bartender. "How are you feeling?"

"Better now," he answered me with a burp, holding up his whiskey glass. "Now that I've had a couple of these."