Alan calls Celia to talk about what a bloody mess it all is, and as Celia half-listens, she’s also on her laptop, arranging a viewing of a bungalow she dreams of for her and Alan. After a while, she says, “I’m missing you,” and he says he’s missing her too, and there’s something about this that hits harder than just saying, “I miss you,” as if it’s not just a fact but an active process, a current, ongoing action of love.
Caroline finally arrives home after watching a production of King Lear at her school. She walks in and sees Kate, passed out on her loveseat, and while Caroline has been doing some questionable things with Kate’s heart recently, the look on her face at this moment is tender and undeniable and killing me. If the look weren’t enough, she then kneels down in front of Kate to touch the side of her face. Caroline asks if she’s been crying. She has.
As if everything about this scene isn’t already squeezing our hearts enough, Caroline then leans over and kisses her, in a way that seems more true than we’ve ever seen Caroline kiss before. She asks Kate if she’d like to talk it out in bed. YES, PLEASE.
But before this can happen, Kate’s mouth starts quivering, not in a crying way this time, but a I-can’t-breathe kind of way. She asks if Caroline’s eaten peanuts. She had some at intermission of the play, but has had wine since then and thought that would have rinsed it out. “Not necessarily,” Kate wheezes. But Caroline is on it, cool and collected, whipping out the epipen and stabbing Kate’s leg as Kate lays on the ground, and mere seconds later phoning for an ambulance, all while holding Kate’s hand.
Lawrence walks by as Caroline is aggressively massaging Kate’s leg, in what appears to be a somewhat unfortunate position. Lawrence just raises his eyebrows and leaves the room as Caroline stutters to try to explain.