Casey & Lili & Alexander
This room feels sterile. Or maybe it’s just him—holding his breath, rage simmering beneath his fragile calm, while across the room, Alexander sits eerily still. Like he’s untouchable.
“Casey, what’s really going on?” His voice is calm, but still cutting as his gaze shifts to Lili. “Your wife’s telling you how she feels. This is where you show up.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Casey mutters, the words pulled tight through his teeth. “Sometimes I don’t think Lili understands how all-consuming my work is.”
“Work’s an easy excuse,” Alexander says, unfazed, already calling bullshit. “But Lili’s not buying it. Neither am I.”
Lili turns, trying to catch Casey’s eye. But he won’t look at her. Or can’t. “I just want to know what’s pulling you away,” she says, her voice low but certain, like she’s asking one last time before giving up completely.
Casey leans forward, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the floor. “I’m under so much pressure. It’s been non-stop since last year. I’m still paying for… my mistake. Still trying to convince everyone, maybe even myself, that I’m not that guy anymore.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re on trial, Casey. I just… I need to trust you again.”
A pause opens between them. Tentative. Breakable.
“And I need you too,” he says, just shy of sincere. “I’m working my ass off—for us, for your brand, for this life we built.”
“Let’s talk about the cancer,” Alexander cuts in. “That kind of battle leaves marks that don’t always heal.”
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Even under normal circumstances, Casey shuts down when this comes up. “It wasn’t great,” he says, flat, already pulling away. “But I’m fine now. That’s all you need to know.”
“Casey,” Lili says, looking at him like the truth’s finally worth the risk. “We’re here to talk about it. For once.”
“He’s scared, Lili. Aren’t you, Casey? And who wouldn’t be? Surviving something like that… it does things. Leaves pieces of you loose. Even when you don’t lose… the obvious.”
For a split second, Casey sees it: his fist. Alexander’s face. The crack of blood and teeth.
He shakes off the fantasy. “I didn’t lose anything.”
“But trauma lingers,” Alexander says with a tilt of his head, almost incredulous. “Identity, masculinity, manhood? It’s not unusual for men to act out afterward. Sometimes in… self-destructive ways.” He leans back, eyes fixed on Casey. “Affairs, for instance.”
Casey sees it again—slamming the bastard hard enough to crack the drywall.
“Lili, would you mind giving us a few minutes?” Alexander asks, smiling just enough to look polite. “Just to touch base.”
“Of course,” she says, pausing just a beat too long before rising. Casey doesn’t look at her. The door closes with a soft click, too soft for the tension it leaves behind.
Casey doesn’t wait. The moment they’re alone, whatever mask he’d been wearing drops.
“What twisted game are you playing?”
“No game. Just gratitude. Those stock tips you gave me were quite lucrative.”
Casey’s jaw tightens. He hadn’t expected Alexander to say it out loud. Not here. Not like this. “I didn’t give you stock tips. Don’t call it that. It was just… casual advice.”
“And I made a casual killing. So let’s not waste your instincts. What other advice do you have for me?”
“You manipulative psycho, you’re playing a sick game—”
“Then why’d you come today?”
“To find out what you’re up to. Because this isn’t about stocks. What do you really want from me and Lili?”
“I’m your wife’s therapist, Casey. And now I’m yours. That means you listen.”
“Fuck you. I’m not your pawn.”
“You could forbid her from seeing me. But you’d have to explain why. Explain what I know. About you and Daphne.”
It would be so easy. One lunge. One swing.
“Now,” Alexander says, as if the outcome is already decided. “What have you got for me?”