Sarah’s sadness was evident, but Kate left, desperate to make it home before her husband returned from a business dinner. When she walked past his study, she discovered her husband home early and more furiously drunk than she had ever seen. The moment she crossed the threshold, the abuse began. Between each hateful word, his fist connected with her body, saliva flying from his mouth. By the time it was over, she lay curled on the floor, bruised and sobbing, tears soaking the carpet. The scene made Caitlin feel nauseous.
Years earlier, a friend had knocked on Caitlin’s door, failing to hide bruises of her own. Caitlin had done what she could, giving her friend a safe place to stay and holding her hand throughout the hours of police reports.
Her friend hadn’t deserved it—no one ever did, and no one ever would. Caitlin felt like the world still wasn’t speaking loudly enough about the violence that hides behind closed doors.
Caitlin wanted to portray Kate’s strength, even as she crumpled beneath her husband’s rage. She didn’t want Kate to look fragile. Caitlin wanted survivors across the world to watch a woman reclaim her power.
A knock at her door snapped Caitlin back into her hotel suite.
The clock on the nightstand read almost midnight. Startled, she crept to the peephole. Her heart leapt as she fumbled to unlock the deadbolt and chain.
“Gemma. What are you doing here?” Caitlin stood half behind the door, suddenly aware she wore only an oversized top over Skims boxers.
“Sorry, I know it’s late. I was reading the lineup for tomorrow and saw Kate’s scene. It’s pretty rough. I guess I just wanted to come see how you were feeling about it.”
Caitlin paused. “Do you want to come in?”
Gemma smiled hesitantly, and Cailtin opened the door further.
“I was wondering where that had disappeared to,” Gemma said, nodding at Caitlin’s sweatshirt.
Caitlin flushed pink. She had forgotten she was wearing Gemma’s faded mint green UPenn crewneck. She crossed to the couch to steady herself.
“You kept that all these years?” Gemma asked, perched on the far end of the sofa.
“Of course.” Caitlin could feel her face getting hotter. She could only assume her cheeks matched her hair by now. “It’s my favorite sweatshirt.”
“I felt like I had stepped back through time when you opened the door.”
“It’s my go-to for a little extra comfort. Wearing it felt like… like your arms were wrapped around me. Like you were holding me. I know that probably sounds pathetic.” Caitlin lifted her legs and squeezed her knees to her chest. “I guess it still makes me feel safe.”
“It’s not pathetic...” Gemma wavered, seeming to debate her next words. “I actually wore your old cheerleading T-shirt the other day.”
They sat in silence for a moment, absorbing the implication.
“Can I be honest?” Gemma asked.
“Always.”
“I didn’t come here because of the scene. I saw you onWatch What Happens Live. Did you mean what you said?”
Caitlin was surprised by the question, but she answered without hesitation. “I did. There’s never been anyone but you, Gemma.”
Caitlin couldn’t read Gemma’s expression.
“I don’t really know why I’m here,” Gemma admitted, eyes down. “I heard you on the show, and the next thing I knew, I was in a taxi. I’m sorry for showing up like this.”
“Gemma, you never have to apologize for your presence. You’ll always be welcome here.”
Gemma finally met Caitlin’s eyes. “You said my sweatshirt makes you feel safe. Are you okay?”
Caitlin recognized Gemma’s familiar sidestep when she wanted a change in topic. She wished she could hear everything that Gemma was thinking, but she didn’t want to press too hard.
“I’m struggling a little, to be honest.” Caitlin sighed. “Tomorrow’s scene actually is kind of personal to me. A friend of mine went through this with her husband. It was absolute hell for her and her kids.”
Gemma moved closer and tucked her legs up onto the couch, ready to listen.
“When she first came to me, I was furious. I wanted to fight for her, but I had to let her choose her moment. The second shecalled and asked for my help to leave, I sent my security team to get her and the kids out and into my house until the divorce was finalized. Since then, I’ve been working with an organization that gives other domestic violence survivors a safe place to get help.”
