beautifully broken

portia moore

if i break – book 3

Beautifully Broken

Copyright © 2015 Porsche Moore. All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

beautifully broken

Contents

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Author’s Note

prologue

Dexter

I’M GOING TO TELL you a story. A story about a boy who was born to be a fuck up. If you haven’t picked up on this yet, this isn’t going to be one for children. The boy's biological parents were both dregs of society. His mother was a sixteen year old drop out who had him by a man whose screw-ups were only outnumbered by his kids. The boy was one of six and was supposed to be next in line for the less than desirable family throne. His slot in life was already determined. He should have been following in good ol’ dad’s footsteps.

At five years old, life was already pitted against him. Born to two asinine parents in an environment filled with fools, there wouldn’t have been anything else for him to be—but life intervened. It had a different plan for him…

Madison, Michigan is where he eventually grew up. A typically insignificant town, home to less than a thousand people. The downtown area had a pathetic excuse of a movie theater, library and a city hall. That’s where he grew up. He was lucky to end up there, some would think. He had been born into an even worse situation; now he had it made. With a real mom and dad and even a dog for a spell.

His new parents, ridiculously in love, volunteered for every charitable effort that took place in the town, even though they barely made ends meet themselves.

The do-gooders of Shelton County.

Their son, the boy, became a straight-A student, member of every little league team you could think of, captain of the junior varsity football team. The kind of boy you’d want your daughter to date. Popular, but nice to the misfits and you didn’t have to worry about him tainting your daughter’s innocence because he was such a gentleman. Almost a character out of a 1950’s TV show. They were the perfect family. What else could their son be other than perfect? He owed them perfection; they saved him from the wreck that could have been his life. He gave himself up for it, he, assimilated until everything came crashing down, the, picture perfect family turned out to be just as warped as everyone else, worse. It jarred him—shocked him, even—as he discovered secret on top of secret, the type of thing that breaks most people. It broke him. I’d say it saved him, brought him back to life. He was free.

He was able to escape. And after that he was never going to look back.

Until her.

She changed everything.

chapter 1

Cal

FEBRUARY 28, 2008

FREEDOM.

Most people think that they’re free, but they aren’t. They’re slaves—to their jobs, to suffocating families, to misplaced priorities, drowning under the weight of what should be life. I see them. I’ve lived with them. The pathetic thing is that at one point I wanted to be just like them. Well, a part of me at least. Then things changed. I was lost and now I’m found. Many people would wonder how a 23 year old with no formal education, no background in business, and with a pretty shitty attitude—I admit it— ended up with a job making six figures plus to entertain ass-kissers, all done with trust funds from Mommy and Daddy to convince me of why our company should consider saving theirs. My job is atypical but then again I’m not the typical guy.

There is far more to me than meets the eye. It’s my secret weapon, my gift, and my curse. But every curse can be used to your advantage if you can wield it just right.

I had a lot against me when I was born. The cards weren’t stacked in my favor but if my parents never gave me anything else, they passed along a good combination of their genes, which has given me a little bit of an edge up in the world. Regardless of your personality or your IQ, the right looks will get you everywhere—but, without the right mentality, you can only go so far. Lucky for me, a combination of looks and IQ have taken me from under-paid farm hand in a town most people never heard of to one of the greatest cities in the world, with the best food, the most interesting locations, and—my favorite part—the most beautiful women you have ever seen.

I wouldn’t trade my life for the world. Besides, I’ve already done it once.

I didn’t always used to be like this. I used to be like everyone else, suffocating in a shell of a man. A yes-man, until he broke in two. He couldn’t handle the pressure of life—the real side of it, not the sanitized made-for-TV version of life that was created for him. He couldn’t handle that reality is ugly. This worked great because I handle that part just fine. But the beautiful part of life, I’m telling you, is what I love. The life some people never experience. My favorite part of this job is being among the most beautiful women Chicago has to offer. Like an ice-cream shop, it has any flavor you could think of and I’ve tasted so many I should be embarrassed. Distractions that make me put up with the irritating part of my job.

My prospect tonight is already pissing me off, most of them do. Fucking babies. All used to having their asses kissed. I’m like a breath of fresh air for them, I guess. Somehow not giving a fuck works. And Dex pays me a whole lot to not give a fuck. The first time that I went out with him to a business venture boring dinner, the client was a dick. I hadn’t been hired yet and the guy who had my job was just about ready to get on his knees and suck it. I told the client to go fuck himself and that’s how I got my first job. Not your typical interview, is it? But Dexter Crestfield isn’t your typical boss and his training isn’t your run-of-the-mill HR BS.

“… a deal with Crestfield even possible, Cal?” This guy’s voice irritates the hell out of me. It’s like a cross between a pissed-off teacher and a fast-food worker. The look on his face is like he hasn’t taken a shit in about four days. He looks irritated and now I’m irritated. Why the hell would I waste my time if a deal wasn’t possible?

“Another drink, gentleman?” One of the bottle girls interrupts us but what a welcome interruption she is. Did I say how much I love Chicago?

I forgot her name, I’ve seen her here a few times before. Michelle, Mallory, something or the other. My two clients eye her tits.

“Not right now, hon. Make sure you come back in couple of minutes,” he says with a sly grin. Mr. Constipated, his counterpart, gives her the eye and I try to contain my laughter. I must admit whoever does the hiring needs a raise—a big one.

“And you, sir?” her voice drops an octave as she flashes her bright green eyes at me. I have a thing for women with beautiful eyes but I can tell she’s a pro as she leans into me, slightly licking her lips, a bold red, the same color as her hair.

“That’ll be it,” I whisper in her ear, sliding a bill in her hand. She smiles appreciatively and stuffs the fifty into the valley between her tits before sauntering away.

“What? Do I need a pair of Double-D breasts to get his attention?” Mr. Constipated says. If he wasn’t so fucking cheap, he’d be the one she’d be pressed up against tonight.

“The terms of the agreement you’re offering … I don’t think it’s worth the risk,” I state confidently.

“Well, to be frank, we’d rather discuss this with Mr. Crestfield. And in a proper place of business, not this swamp of Jersey Shore elite,” Mr. Constipated says tightly. I grin and signal another bottle girl back to the table.

“Can you pour Mr. Freeman here a drink? Because I think he needs to cool the fuck off.”

“Look, Cal, we don’t mean any disrespect, we’re really anxious to make this deal happen,” the less annoying one says. I hate guys like Mr. Constipated, men with degrees that cost more than people’s mortgages. They know I’m not one of them, they can tell—sense it, blue blood—bull crap. Good thing is, I don’t give a shit. So I smile, the same smile I could flash his wife and have her on her knees in ten minutes and play it cool. After all, it must suck being him.

“I’ve taken time out of my schedule on my day off to hear a proposal, a legitimate offer to take back to Dexter and you bring me this shit of a deal? Bottom line is, we have better options to review,” I say before standing up.

“Wait. Wait, everyone. Calm down. Tensions are high. Cal, we really appreciate the fact that you’ve come out to hear our proposals. This is actually one of our properties. Cegan, how about we go see if the property holders are in, and how things are going?”

This is how it usually works. They’re caught off guard. They think the deal's off the table and now their heads are spinning. I pull out my phone as I make my way from the table. I shoot Dex a text saying he has them exactly where he wants them.

I make my way from the VIP area down to the main area of the club. VIP is exclusive and all of that shit but the main floor is where the fun is and, once work is done, it’s time to play and there are so many toys out tonight. I feel a hand slip around my stomach and turn to see the sexy red head from earlier.

“Are you looking for Tori?” she says leaning into me.

Tori’s a bottle girl who works here. She’s supermodel-hot, fun, easy, gives me space but answers when I call. She’s one of my regulars and when I’m in the mood for something different than her for the night, she doesn’t cause a scene or throw a fit. Hell, sometimes she’ll come with me and my flavor of the night. Bad thing about her, she likes to drink on the job, if it wasn’t for me sliding her manager a couple of hundreds to look the other way, she’d have been out on her ass.

“Maybe,” I tell her as I watch her hand slide down my arm and land on my Cartier watch, her finger lingering over it and I immediately know this girl is looking for a cash out, not fun, and I don’t play with her type.

“She got canned today. She spilled two thousand dollars’ worth of champagne,” she says with a gleeful smile on her face.

What the hell, Tori?

I liked that she walked on the wild side of life but there’s nothing sexy about getting wasted. It takes you off your game, makes you a different person and I have enough quirks in that area. Needless to say, it was irritating that she always wanted to get shit faced. Tipsy girls are cute. Drunk off your ass is fucking disgusting. There’s nothing attractive about it.

I’m not the type to hold a girl's hair up while she pukes.

“Don’t look so sad. I can keep you company tonight,” she purrs in my ear. Not interested. I forgot this girl’s name but I’m pretty sure she was Tori’s friend and nothing's more of a turn off than disloyalty.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” I say, pushing her hand out of my way and heading to the bar. There are too many other prospects in here. If I want to take someone home tonight, it wouldn’t be a money-hungry backstabber. The bar on the main floor is livelier than in VIP. I push my way through the crowd, a few women catching my eye. I don’t want a drink but the bar is the place to be so that’s where I am. Tori’s friend squeezes beside me. She shoots me a flirtatious grin. She either didn’t take the hint or is desperate.

“How fucking long does it take to get a shot?” an already drunk guy next to me shouts loud enough to be heard over the music. There’s other grumblings from people around me. It looks like they’re backed up.

“Steven’s out sick,” the girl whose name I forgot says, leaning into me before her hand roams up my thigh. If she keeps it up I might just let her give me a blow job before sending her on her way.

“The owner has waitresses covering,” she adds. I shrug and turn my body away from her. She’s starting to annoy the fuck out of me besides the fact that she’s blocking other girls from being all over me. I need to find someone to make her get lost quick. I start to head from the bar but, as I do, the girl behind the bar catches my eye. She more than catches it because I have to double-back to reclaim the space I just lost at the bar.

Who the hell is she?

“I’m so sorry for the wait, everyone. Please be patient with us.” Her voice is light and airy and her smile makes my heart skip a beat. She is sexy as hell. Creamy white skin, long dark wavy hair, and she has a cute tight little body. She’s short too and I always had a thing for short girls. ‘Fun sized.’ Not only is she sexy, she’s fucking gorgeous. Most girls are either one or the other but she’s both. With mesmerizing brown eyes, big and bright ones that make her look innocent. She’s only in front of me a few seconds, apologizing to everyone again before she goes to the other end of the bar and does the same. My eyes follow her. Her face is clean. She’s not wearing pounds of make up like most of the other girls in the club. She has perfectly plump lips and on her feet, my favorite shoes on a woman, ‘come fuck me pumps.’

“She’s taken,” Whatshername says in my ear. Too bad. There’s too many single chicks in the world to bark up that tree, but I decide to play around, just to make Whatserface jealous. Since she won’t leave me alone, I might as well have a little fun.

“That’s not really a problem,” I taunt her and her face frowns up.

“She’s not like that,” she says defensively.

“Really?” I say unfazed.

“No really. She’s not, she’s all into the other bartender that works here. She doesn’t talk to any other guys, not even to flirt for tips,” she counters with a satisfied grin on her face. Beautiful and loyal…hmmm.

It’s been a while since a girl seemed unattainable and that piques my curiosity. It doesn’t take more than a smile, a little attention and a few shots and Whatsername has given me all the details I want.

Lauren, I like that name, is dating a dude named Michael. I had seen him before at the club. Typical pretty-boy douchebag. The frat boy type, screwing anything that walks. I don’t know this girl but seeing any beautiful loyal woman attached to some ass wipe that does any chick he could think of ticked me off. This time, it irks me more than it should.

My first impression is right. He’s a creep if I ever saw one. The type of dude that makes a girl fall for him, traps her in a dead end crappy one-sided relationship, screwing anything that moves, but telling his girlfriend he loves her every chance he gets.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fucking Prince Charming but I never lead girls on. Never make promises I won’t keep. I don’t lie. Each one knows to expect nothing from me but a good time. There’s no need to play with a girl’s emotions. No need to tell them you love them when you don’t mean it, and if you are fucking someone else, you definitely don’t mean it. You can’t love someone else and screw around just because they make your dick hard. I’ve seen enough girls get screwed over by pricks in disguise and, unluckily for Michael, I was going to have a little fun.

I have to admit, dude had balls. I watched him for three nights and each night he’d pull some girl drunk off her ass into the storage room and come out like he just won a prize. Cheating is routine for most dudes, but doing it in the place your girlfriend works, takes a lot of fucking nerve.

Night four, I decided it was time to watch the show. It only cost me fifty bucks to get one of the waitresses at the club to point her in the right direction of the storage room. A cute little Asian chick was his meal of choice for the night. I have to hand it to him. He has good taste. Every girl I’ve seen him with was a fucking ten.

I signal the waitress I paid earlier and see her go over to see Lauren. I’m not sure what she said but it makes Lauren smile and I feel my palms start to sweat. Not a reaction I expected.

I’m nervous…and I don’t get nervous.

Screw it.

I’m ready to see the fireworks. I can’t wait until she catches this jerk-off. I glance at my watch. It can’t take more than five minutes until she finds them.

I’m wrong.

It only takes two.

A few minutes later, Lauren is flying out of the storage room, tears streaming down her face. I expected profanity, yelling, maybe a cat fight but none of that happens. I thought she’d just be pissed off instead of…this. I thought the aftermath would be funny, entertaining, that the joke would be on this Michael dude but this girl looks devastated. A few other waitresses chase after her, seeing how upset she is. The other girl in the storage room runs out adjusting her dress and disappears into the crowd. Michael looks confused as hell and frantic.

“Lauren!” he shouts, looking around for her. He goes in the other direction.

This is what I wanted.

Entertainment. But this doesn’t feel right.

I feel like a bigger asshole than her boyfriend. I think…I feel bad. It’s a foreign-ass feeling and I want to make up for it. This girl has no clue who I am or what I’ve done but, shit, I feel fucked up over it. This is the first time I’ve cared how someone feels when it doesn’t affect me. I want to make it up to her. I want to make her feel better. The only problem is, I don’t make things up to people. I sure as hell don’t make situations better. I fuck shit up and I have no fucking clue how to not do that.

chapter 2

Lauren

I CAN’T BREATHE. HOW do you stop your heart from beating a thousand miles a minute? How do you crawl out of feelings that are wrapped around you like a noose, feelings that have swallowed you up whole? One sentence was all it took for me to know it was him. My gift and my curse, my ending, my beginning, my best dream and my worst nightmare all wrapped in one. Cal Scott, in all of his glory. I knew it. From the moment I heard his voice on the phone, anxiety crawled up my spine. As I made my way up each floor level, I knew it was him. I imagined this moment so many times. I dreamed about it, prepared for it to happen but never ever expected for it to happen like this. Which is fitting since I never know what to expect from him.

He’s watching me, his eyes narrowed on mine, his gaze locked there. It’s like time has stopped, the atmosphere changed. It’s quiet, so quiet, just like the moment before thunder cracks from the sky and all hell breaks loose.

I’ve seen him almost every day for the past two months but not like this, not the intensity of his gaze, the overwhelmingness of his presence, causing fear, excitement and anxiety to course through me. The icy glare on his face sends chills down to my very core. I’m frozen in place as I look at him.

What the hell happened? All of this time Chris is here and then, just like that, he’s gone and this happens, right after I slept with him.

I’m confused, I’m nervous and, with the way Cal’s looking at me, a little scared, scared of what’s to come, of what’s about to be the backlash. Because the energy exuding from Cal lets me know it’s about to be bad.

Cal.

He’s the one I married. The one I’m in love with, the man who I spent years of my life with. But I’m trembling because my body can barely contain the emotions crashing against one another inside of me. The man I loved and loathed. There’s so much I want to say to him but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I don’t know what to do and oh my God, what happened to Chris?

Last night we made love—well, Chris and I made love—and I told Chris he was the one I wanted. Cal knows what happened.

Shit, shit, shit!

Why the hell do I feel guilty? They’re both the same fucking person but, the way he’s looking at me, with disdain, anger and almost disgust makes me feel like the lowest creature on the planet. He unfolds his arms and saunters towards me, each step making my heart stampede out of my chest. I expect him to touch me as he gets closer but he steps aside me and closes the door that I left open.

“What happened?” I ask, my voice barely over a whisper. His hand firmly grips my wrist and he turns me around toward him.

“You tell me." His voice is low and stings me but I try not to show it.

“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling my hands quivering in his grasp. I know Cal would never hurt me but he’s so angry.

“I love you Chris. You’re the one I want, Chris,” he says, mimicking my voice.

“Are you kidding?” I let out a nervous chuckle. He can’t be serious; but I know he is.

“You think I’m fucking kidding?” he asks tightly as he quickly relinquishes his hold and shoves me away, causing me to stumble. He storms across the room with his hands on his head but, in a split-second, he whips back around.

“How could you do that to me?!” he shouts and I have to fight to breathe. His voice is deep and strong like it always is, but from the look in his eyes, vulnerability seeps from him. His anguish is hitting me like a truck. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s hurt and I don’t understand. That’s a lie because I get it. I don’t fully understand it, but I do get it. It’s the only thing shutting me up right now.” I try to think of something to say as tears well in my eyes.

“You don’t get to cry, Lauren!” he says angrily.

“Cal. I—I...”

“What? What do you have to say? Tell me!” he demands, walking closer towards me but, before I can even answer, he starts again.

“I loved you for years and all it took was for him to smile your way a couple of times, tell you how much I love you, and your legs fly the fuck open for him?!” he asks. “You tell him you love him. That he’s who you want!”

I try to command the tears coming into my eyes to stop. “You don’t understand,” I squeak out.

“You don’t understand!” He gestures his finger towards me. “I—I can’t even look at you right now,” he growls before grabbing a pair a keys off the table.

“Where are you going?!”

“You can’t just leave!” I shout, grabbing his arm.

“Don’t touch me,” he snarls snatching away from me.

“So you hate me now? Is that it? You hate me?” I’m full-on crying now.

“I wish I could hate you,” he says bitterly but this time he heads into the bedroom instead of out of the door. Before he crosses the threshold he turns to face me. “You were supposed to be different,” he says, shaking his head. “But you’re like everybody else,” he adds quietly and the look in his eyes causes my breath to hitch.

He looks broken and I think I broke him. I broke Cal and I broke Chris. His dad’s right. I’m not good for either of them. I try to stop the wail coming from my mouth, my emotions trying to escape from my body. There’s too much energy I’m trying to keep pent up but I can’t let it out. I slowly sink down to the floor.

How did things get like this? How did I end up here?

When did I become the villain?

He’s looking at me with bitterness, disgust, and what’s bordering on hatred. He’s never looked at me like that before. How can he be so angry at me, like I was with another person? I love him so much. I’ve loved him every day—every part of him. The good and the bad. I hate myself for crying, that I’m sitting here like a sad little girl. How did things get like this? Today everything was supposed to be better. After being with Chris, things were supposed to be good and I have a feeling they’re about to get worse.

I don’t know what to do. Do I call the Scotts? Do I call Dexter? Did sleeping with me cause Chris to run away and hide? A part of me is glad that Cal’s here but how can I not feel terrible knowing that Chris is gone and Cal is in a rage? I don’t know what he’s going to do. I think back to my conversation with his dad. What he said would happen if Cal came back. Oh God, I can’t believe I’m even considering what his dad said. I have never seen Cal as mad as he is now. The only thing worse than his anger is his disappointment. But why is he so angry? Because I slept with him? After two years of being alone I slept with him and he’s upset with me like I betrayed him?

My phone rings, breaking me away from my thoughts. I pull my phone out and see that it’s Mrs. Scott. How the hell am I supposed to explain this to the Scotts? It’s going to be my fault of course. Maybe it is my fault. Not only do I have to tell them that Chris is now Cal again, but I also have to tell them that he’s mad at the world and I have no idea what he’s going to do. I guess I never did, but now it’s like he’s on a hinge that’s barely hanging on and I can’t deal with it right now. The hollowness in my chest turns into a burning sensation as tears sting my eyes. I want to scream.

This is almost like déjà vu. Being left on the floor crying, desperate, broken because of this man and he’s done it again. I crawl off the floor and climb onto the large sofa, curl up into myself, and close my eyes. I’m emotionally drained and mentally and physically exhausted like I’ve been on a 5k run.

Chris wanted me to love him. Cal apparently doesn’t want me to love Chris. It’s all too much to think about—how I ended up in a tug of war with one man. The man who is my daughter’s father, who has a shitload of emotional baggage. The depths of which I don’t think I ever fully understood until now. They’re the same person but neither of them see the other as who they are. Cal really looked at me as if I cheated on him.

How can he not understand it’s him I love—whoever he decides to call himself? I hate feeling like this and really I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t just lie here and cry. That’s not the type of woman I want Caylen to be. I may have hurt him, but it wasn’t intentional and what he’s done to me is much worse. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t even be in this situation.

If anyone should be hurt it should be me. How can he have the audacity to say those things to me? Like I didn’t wait for him for two years. Like he didn’t leave me alone to raise a child. I basically forgave him for having a freakin’ fiancée and that he lied to me about his condition. I sit up and clutch my chest, the hollowness there quickly incinerating as my anger washes over me and through me. Why should I lie here and cry and worry? I’ve forgiven him a thousand times over. He can forgive me once, even though I’m not even sure that I need to be forgiven.

He may be furious with me but he still loves me. I head up the stairs, anger my new source of energy. I swing the door open. It’s completely dark aside from a small sliver of light peeking into the room from the window but I can see that he’s lying on the bed with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The sight of him makes me pause, my once seething anger disappearing in seconds. This man. This man could easily be the death of me.

“You’re still here?” he says. His tone suggests it’s a joke and my dissipating anger starts to grow again. “I thought you’d have ran off and tattled to Chris’s mommy and daddy.”

“You have a lot of nerve,” I say as I plant my feet on the floor.

He glances over at me. “Oh. That’s a nice welcome. You fuck Chris and want to argue with me?” He laughs bitterly. He’s switched, the emotion pouring off him earlier has been replaced with this indifferent, arrogant sarcasm. That will make this a whole lot easier.

I walk over to him and stare him directly in the eye. “This isn’t about Chris. This is about you,” I say venomously.

“It wasn’t yesterday,” he says sarcastically as if this is a big joke.

“You’re still the same selfish jerk you always were,” I say and he begins to laugh. “You think this is funny?!” I yell at him and push his chest. He sits there, firmly planted as if it my hits have absolutely no effect on him, and I completely lose it. “How dare you!” I yell at him, pulling at him with all my might, swinging my arms as hard as I can, trying to make him feel a fraction of my pain. “How could you do that to me?” I shout at him as we begin to tussle.

“Calm the fuck down!” he says, trying to contain me. I’ve gone from helpless fool to crazy woman in the span of ten seconds.

“What’s wrong with you?!” he says, covering up a laugh that makes me even more furious.

“You’re what’s wrong with me” I say, throwing fist after fist at him.

“Lauren, stop!” he says, finally grabbing me and throwing me on the bed. A second later he’s on top of me, pinning me down. I hate that he’s stronger than me, that he can contain me.

“I hate you!” I say, catching my breath, tears filling my eyes again. This man drives me insane, pulls my spirit out from the inside. For him to doubt that for a second hurts, especially when he pretends to not give a flying fuck.

“You left me, Cal. You. You lied to me. I waited for you for almost two years. I had Caylen alone. You abandoned me without any inkling of what was going on with you and still I never gave up on us. EVER!” I shout at him and I can see his hardened expression soften a little but I don’t care. I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the feelings that shoot through my body at his glance. My anger’s turned into an overwhelming sadness. I close my, eyes remembering how it felt to lose it.

“You almost broke me,” I mutter, not trying to hide my emotions. I’m tired of hiding them. I hid them from everyone else, even Chris. Cal, he’s the one who needs to see them.

He lowers his gaze to mine, like he’s thinking, absorbing my words. He leans down closer to my face and my entire body is on edge. His lips near mine. It’s been so long. So long since we were like this in this position. But it hurts. His eyes look into mine, almost like Chris did a few hours ago. His hands loosen their grip. Finally he sits up, freeing me from the confinement his body created as he pinned me down. I scold the part of me that wants to be in the position we were just in. The tension is the only thing in the room thicker than the silence.

“When I left you, I thought I was doing the right thing,” he says, his eyes finding mine. They’re no longer the light green I’ve grown accustomed to over the past few weeks, but deep, dark, and menacing, like the sky before a storm.

“I left you because I knew I’d fucked up. I’d waited too long to tell you the truth and then I found out the medication I thought would fix me could actually kill me,” he says, his eyes leaving mine and finding the floor.

“What medicine?” I ask and he looks up at me.

“It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work,” he says, his voice quiet but stern. I think about what he means by the medication not working.

“You were trying to get rid of Chris?” I ask hesitantly.

“Trust me, he’d do the same thing in a second if he had the chance,” he says. A statement I know for a fact is true, which makes this situation even more messed up.

“The day I left you…” Cal pauses as if trying to gather his thoughts. “It was the first unselfish thing I’d ever done. I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t know you were pregnant. I never would have left if I knew that.”

I look into the eyes I fell in love with a thousand times over and, as mad as I am, those same feelings are all still there. I sit up and move closer to him on the bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? How could you not trust me?” Out of everything that happened that’s what hurts the most. He didn’t trust me to love him, to not give up on him, on us.

“Because I was trying to let you go,” he says, bluntly, his voice stern and unwavering. He lifts his head, his eyes leave mine and sweep over me, drinking me up as if he’s been dying of thirst.

“You deserved better than this,” he says, letting out a long sigh.

“Do you think I would have left you if you told me?” His eyes cast downward.

“You should have given me a choice!”

“There wasn’t a choice.”

“You’re right! I loved you. There wouldn’t have been a choice other than being with you!”

“Tell me this is what you wanted. A dude so fucked up he can’t even be the same person? That’s what you dreamed of for your husband?” He chuckles bitterly.

“It doesn’t matter. I love you. There isn’t a choice for me,” I say, standing and meeting him where he is.

“There’s a choice now,” he says, closing the space between us.

“What’s the choice?”

“Me or Chris?” he says and the words cause every nerve in my body to wake. My mouth immediately becomes dry and I can’t speak. That isn’t a choice. There is no choice.

“I can’t do that.”

“You can’t?!” He looks up briefly before his eyes narrow in on mine. “You chose him yesterday,” he says, dangerously quiet.

“That was different. He needed to hear that,” I say, feeling tears in my eyes.

“I don’t give a shit what he needed to hear. You fell in love with me. Caylen is my daughter. This shouldn’t be a hard decision!” He’s yelling now.

“You’re the same person, Cal,” I say, grabbing his hand, pleading with him. He steps away from me and snatches his hand away.

“If anyone knows that isn’t true, it should be you,” he says quietly and my eyes leave his. He is the same man. Making some arbitrary choice won’t even matter, it would just hurt…one of them…both of them. Oh my God, this is insane!

“Don’t choose then. I’ll choose for you,” he says, simply nodding his head, an amused grin spreading across his face, one that scares me more than his yelling. He steps away from me, shoots across the room, and grabs a black jacket and keys.

“What does that even mean? Where are you going?” I say, starting to follow him.

“Ask Chris, whenever he gets back,” he says sarcastically, leaving the room.

“No!” I follow behind him, grabbing his arm.

“This. This is what is still wrong with us after everything. You running away, keeping me in the dark not telling me how you feel!” I yell as he continues walking towards the door as if my words and my tears don’t faze him at all.

“I choose Chris!” I yell at him, and those words stop him in his tracks. He turns around and faces me with the same amused grin instead of the angry, pissed-off scowl I was expecting.

“You choose Chris?” he says, stalking towards me. I stand my ground and lift my head to meet him.

“You don’t tell me how you feel, you’re mean, you’re self-centered, arrogant and an asshole. I choose Chris,” I say, commanding my voice to steady, putting on my best poker face. Does he know I’m bluffing? That it’s a ploy? He eyes me for a moment and I think he does, because his grin spreads into a full-fledged smile and it makes me nervous. I knew what I said would stop him from leaving but I didn’t expect him to look happy about it. For a moment I wonder if he’s gone and Chris is back in front of me, but that thought leaves as soon as he grabs me by the waist and lifts me up so we’re face to face.

“You’d be bored with Chris in six months,” he says, his lips inches away from mine, the huskiness in his voice reminding me how much I used to crave this man. And there it is, the one thing that Cal wins at, the electricity between us—an overload of energy in the air. The broken man I walked in on is gone and the man that knows me, loves me, drove me to crazy and back is here right in front of me, daring me to not want him. He leans in, his lips touching mine but they don’t pull me into his. Just a touch and my body is going crazy. I’m about to lose it but he drops me back on floor. I land on my feet but stumble because I’m shook, startled, and in a haze.

That’s it?

The haze doesn’t last long. In a moment, he snatches me forward and I clash against his chest. It’s like an explosion; his hands are everywhere, his lips all over me. My clothes, his clothes, both flying. His kisses are rough but passionate. It’s almost too intense. It’s been so long since I felt him like this. It’s so much, almost too much. My body’s on fire, my skin tingles all over, my stomach is doing flips. I try to catch my breath but he doesn’t give me long before I’m against the wall and he’s inside of me. Why is his touch electric? Why is it so easy for his kiss to cause me to melt?

“Cal,” I can’t help but moan out as he thrusts inside of me. He was just there—well, Chris was just there—but it was so…different. Yesterday was gentle and sweet. This—it’s like I’m being stretched, reminded that I haven’t been touched by him in two years and it hurts but, God, it’s the best-feeling pain I’ve ever felt.

“You belong to me. Just me,” he says in my ear as he continues. It’s fast and rough and I can’t keep quiet. I’m so loud. God, I’m afraid everyone on the floor is going to hear me. I try to get my hands from out of his grip but he doesn’t let me. He’s moving faster and faster, too fast. I can barely breath, I can’t get enough air but my body can’t get enough of him. I feel it coming on faster and faster. I look up at him helplessly, a smug grin on his face.

“Chris could never do this to you,” he moans in my ear. I close my eyes and bite my lip but it doesn’t help.

“Let’s be honest… There isn’t a choice….You don’t get to choose. I’m the only option,” he taunts me, pushing deeper into me

“Oh my God,” I shriek out as my legs start to shake. It’s happening faster than it’s ever happened before. My hands are finally free and I wrap them around his neck as if I’m holding on for dear life. I bury my head in his shoulder but he grabs my hair and pulls my head back so that I’m forced to look at him.

“I make you feel like this. No one else,” he says as I come apart around him. I can’t even respond. I breathe in as much air as I can, waiting for my body to return to its normal state but, before it does, he’s flipped me around with my stomach against the wall and he’s back inside of me again.

“Cal, wait. Wait,” I pant out but he doesn’t. His hand slips between my thighs and he’s in me again.

“We’re not finished yet,” he says his into my ear as he starts again and, thank God, he’s holding me up because I’m exhausted. It hasn’t been long but I feel exhausted. Yet my body still manages to come alive, waking up for him all over again. His mouth is on my neck sucking hard, so hard I know it’s going to leave marks and his fingers trace their favorite spot as he pushes into me. His fingers cause the most perfect pleasure I have felt in such a long time.

“Tell me to stop,” he says. One of his hands squeezes my thigh as he goes faster and faster. I can’t even speak, just an indistinguishable moan. I want him to stop but never stop, pleasure and pain crashing against one another inside of me.

“I dare you,” he taunts me. Everything is spinning around me. I’m on a rollercoaster right at the edge of the highest peak

“You and I are much more alike than you think,” he says. He’s so deep but each thrust feels deeper than the last one. “You’re like Chris on your weakest day, me on your best.” He’s rubbing me faster and faster and I feel it coming again, tears coming just as I’m about to.

“Where’s your fire, Lauren?” he says as I throw my head back and I come down in waves.

“He put it out. Don’t worry, I’ll start it again.” I hear him but his words seem far away. I’m far away, like I’m floating. I just want to sleep but I still feel him. I feel helpless, high. As he finishes, his arms wrap around me pulling me back as close to him as possible. I feel like I’ve been both punished and rewarded. I glance back at him, my eyes barely able to stay open. His expression tells me that it was both. I can’t even speak. All I want now is just sleep.

chapter 3

Lauren

UNRAVELING. IF I HAD to describe a state that I’m in that would be it. I’m coming apart. He made me come apart again and again until I fell into pieces. Pieces he broke me into and threw into the deep-end of what’s now my life, and I’m drowning.

How did I get here? How did I end up in the most complicated relationship I could have ever imagined in my life? Thinking back to all of those days when I wondered where he was, who he was with, if he was cheating. Was he was involved in some type of organized crime? I even entertained the idea that maybe he was doing covert missions for the CIA. I was so far off but, as crazy as all those explanations were, any of those things would have been easier to handle.

Now he’s right here next to me and it gives me comfort but it also makes my heart skip a beat. This should be a turning point, but in what direction? I don’t know. Where is Chris? I don’t even know if Cal is the one next to me at this point. The last time him and I had sex, he switched just like that. My life is as easy to flip as a light switch.

When I first saw Cal, I couldn’t help but wonder if Chris really was who I slept with or if it was some strange mind game Cal was playing. Would Chris sleep with me? If he’s still with Jenna, I can’t see him doing that. I don’t think that’s who he is. But who is Cal? Who is Chris? They’re one in the same but so different. Chris is lost but I don’t think that Cal is. Of the two, he knows exactly what’s going on. He always has and it’s time for answers. If he thought that little display yesterday would shut me up, he has another thing coming. He’s been gone for two years. I felt his loss each day that he was gone and I need answers, not just for me but for Caylen and for his family.

Last night, it was like he was making up for lost time—two years of lost time, of us not being together, him not having my body—and yesterday, it felt like he claimed me. He owned me. He had to prove that I was his, to prove that he knew me better and in ways that Chris doesn’t. The thing is, after all the time I’ve known him and the little time I’ve known Chris, I know more about Chris than Cal, and that knowledge alone makes me want to throw up. I’m still hurt that he didn’t tell me the truth and disgusted we’ve fallen right back into our routine—the temporary fix of sex—and I can’t let this happen again. He said I lost my fire with Chris, the spark in me gone. Well if he means me being a screaming lunatic, no I wasn’t that way with Chris. It was nice, even if it made me feel as if I were walking on egg shells most of the time. I felt like I had to be careful with Chris. He was vulnerable, almost breakable, but what would happen once Chris is broken? Would a broken Chris be Cal? Did I break Chris?

“You have an hour to get dressed or I’m leaving you,” he says, his voice and tone distinctive and very different from the voice I’ve been hearing for the past few weeks. One that was almost forgotten but is etching itself in my memory again, vibrating through me.

I try to think of how the old Lauren would respond and compare it to the Lauren I’ve been the past few weeks. I can't help wondering…who am I now? The Lauren of yesterday is gone, obliterated. He fucked the complete life out of her. I try to find the words of who I should be, but I’m at a complete loss. Nothing I can think of seems adequate so I stay perfectly still and quiet. That’s not something I’ve ever done before. I turn to see him disappear into the bathroom, bare as an egg, body of a god, and with the attitude of a spoiled six year old.

He’s still upset. But from what I’ve learned about Chris in the weeks I’ve been getting to know him is that Chris forgives easily and I know from past experiences that Cal holds grudges like a hoarder. I get up from the bed and try to think. What we did last night wasn’t making love. It was the opposite and I don’t know how to feel about that.

I don’t know what to do but I have to tell his parents. I can’t avoid them because they have Caylen and I can’t tell Cal. I’ve never been so confused in my life. My eyes make a sweep of the room in a frantic search for my clothes. Of course my clothes aren’t in here. They’re somewhere on the first floor of the suite. I grab the sheet, wrap it around myself, and head downstairs. My clothes are strewn all across the room. I grab each piece of clothing from where it lay scattered all over the place and put them on. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot my phone, the alert light blinking, beckoning me. I’m afraid to see how many messages are on it. I take a deep breath and see that I have 18 missed calls and 12 voice messages. I scroll through and see the numbers from Gwen, Lisa, and Helen.

Shit.

I don’t know what to tell these people. I don’t expect Cal to tell them anything. I scroll through the numbers and dial Helen’s. It goes to voice mail. I call Lisa’s. I can’t call Mrs. Scott. I can’t tell her any of this over the phone. I glance back towards the room.

I don’t know why I feel like I have to sneak and do this. Should I do this? Ugh! I’m not going to drive myself crazy about this. It’s time to cut the bullshit. I head back up stairs and into the bedroom. I hear the shower running.

“I’ve been thinking about whether I should call your parents or not,” I say loud enough for him to hear me over the water. He doesn’t say anything.

“They have Caylen. I’m going to have to tell them something. I was going to call and tell them I’m trying to start something new. I want nothing but open and honest communication between us. So can you let me know your thoughts on that?” I say in almost one breath. He steps out the shower and I force my eyes to stay on his face and go nowhere else, but the wall between us is back up again. His eyes are on me and I can’t read him. His stare is blank but he steps towards me, completely naked with a sly smirk stretched across his face. My breath hitches as he reaches across me to grab a towel and wipe his face before wrapping it around his waist.

“Are you not going to say anything?” I ask him, feeling my stoic façade begin to crumble beneath me. He bites his lips trying to suppress the smile I see peeking through. He likes me upset. How could I forget?

“Fine,” I say, pulling out my phone. “I’ll give them a call.” Before I can even get my thumb to touch a button, he’s snatches the phone from my hand. I expect him leave the room or to even flush it down the toilet but he doesn’t. He hits a few keys and the phone starts to ring on speaker.

“Lauren, where the hell are you and why haven’t you been answering our calls?”

It’s Mr. Scott, and my eyes widen.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Cal’s voice sends a chill through my spine. There’s a stunned silence on the other end. Mr. Scott obviously at a loss for words.

“If you ever speak to my wife like that again, I’m going to break your fucking legs,” he says, his grip tightening on the phone.

“We’ll be there to get our daughter tonight. I’ll call you when we’re a few minutes away. Have her dressed and ready to leave.” He hangs up and tosses the phone to me before stepping closer, his arm wrapping around my back, pulling me towards him and leaning down to my ear.

“I’m not a little boy. I thought I reminded you of that last night,” he says huskily in my ear, his grip tightening on my waist.

“Chris’s parents don’t scare me. Dexter has no authority over me. I can give a shit what anyone else thinks about me being back. You can call and alert the newspaper if you feel the need to. You’re either in this with me or you’re not. Chris won’t be back anytime soon,” he says, letting me go and leaving the bathroom. My phone begins to ring again. I’m guessing it’s probably a not-so-stunned Mr. Scott calling back in a fury but, when I glance down, I see that it’s Lisa. She’s called me at least four times. I shake my head and pick up.

“Hey, Lisa,” I say, trying my best to mask the utter terror pumping through my veins.

“Lauren, have you talked to Chris? I’ve been trying to call him and…” Before she can finish, Cal’s back in front of me and snatches the phone from my hand.

“Don’t ever call me or Lauren again. I’m not kidding! If you do, I will ruin you. Stay the fuck away!”

I stand in front of him in complete shock. “Do you even know who that was?”

“Don’t fucking answer for her,” he says bitterly, taking my phone from my hand and leaving the room. I follow.

“What’s your problem with Lisa!?” I ask, exasperated.

“I mean it,” he says pointedly.

“Is this about her not wanting to sleep with you?” I told Lisa I wouldn’t tell Chris but this is Cal. A condescending laugh escapes him.

“Is that what that lying little cunt told you?” he says, throwing on his clothes.

“How about you tell me?"

"How about you tell me about everything,” I say, grabbing his wrist. “About why you hate your parents…”

“I don’t hate my parents,” he says abruptly.

“Your dad,” I reiterate. “What happened to make you like this?”

“Like what? Like me? What screwed me up so bad to make me come about? Is that what you’re asking me?!”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say quietly.

“No, that’s exactly what you meant,” he spits back.

“Don’t turn this around on me. This is bigger than you and me now. We have a daughter, Cal,” I say pleadingly.

“You’re not my fucking shrink, Lauren. You’re my wife. The woman I asked to marry me. You know everything now so let’s get past this. I’m ready to get back to normal. No more of this bullshit.”

“Normal? What we had is not normal. Just be honest with me. Please. Don’t I deserve that at least?”

“Why do you think I know everything?” he asks quietly.

I hesitate. He should know everything, right? He has to; he’s the alter. But how do I say that without it being an insult? Looking at him, I can’t say it. I still don’t want to admit it. I am mad at him. I still don’t want to hurt him—I never wanted to hurt Cal—and if I say it out loud right in front of him, I know it would hurt him. Or maybe I’m just afraid that saying it, of saying those actual words.

“You can say it, Lauren. I won’t melt. I’m not a mythical creature,” he says with an amused grin.

“I can only go off what I know and you haven’t told me anything.”

“I don’t know who your loyalty lies with. So I’ll pass for now,” he says wryly.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I mean. We can save a lot of time if you stop playing stupid. Remember that I know you like the back of my hand.”

He has a lot fucking nerve. Of course, he does. It is Cal after all? He doesn’t know who my loyalty lies with? I waited for him for two years after he walked out on me. Yet, he questions my loyalty? I don’t understand what else I need to do to prove my loyalty to him. Why am I paying for a mistake I wasn’t aware I’d made? I’m trying. I really am trying so hard to keep my emotions in check, especially my anger and my frustration. It’s taking nearly all of my willpower to remain calm and not fly off the handle again.

But, like always, Cal has a way of pushing my buttons. He can’t think I’m going to go along with this—all his secrets, living a lie, pretending to be happy about the very thing that unraveled our marriage. He steps toward me, closing the distance between us. His gray eyes cling to mine, as if he’s reading my mind.

“Don’t worry, gorgeous. You’ll know everything soon. Just make sure you’re ready for it.” At that, he leaves me standing where I am with more questions than answers. Cal has always had a knack for leaving me stupefied. His statement isn’t a simple declaration; it’s more like a threat. But he doesn’t get to do this to me anymore. I could easily retaliate with the threat of leaving. But I can’t bring myself to do it. I have a daughter to think about. And then there’s Chris. I feel a world of responsibility on my shoulders and I don’t know how long I can hold it all up.

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he says, heading out the door.

How do I do this? I can’t walk out on him. He’s mentally unstable but I can’t go through a life of secrets anymore! It’s Cal but he’s different, a little colder, a little rawer, uncensored and unpredictable, and there’s no way I can let him out of my sight.

*

I TRY TO GATHER my thoughts as I make my way downstairs. They’re everywhere, on everything. I feel powerless, more than I ever have before. I walk out of the hotel and see him sitting in the Audi. I take a deep breath before getting in. I feel like I’m slipping back into my old life. He's still angry but he’s still here with me and that means all hope isn’t completely lost. I’m not as powerless as I thought. We’re both at odds, but we still love each other. I used to think of it is as only my weakness but now I know it’s his weakness too and I fully intend to use it to try to fix this mess—if we can be fixed.

“So what’s the plan?” I try to keep bitter sarcasm out my voice but I’m sure it’s not working. “We just go back to being how we were before? Let’s remember, things weren’t exactly peachy.”

He doesn’t even glance my way.

“And I’m supposed to pretend that the past two years haven’t happened? That I don’t know the truth?”

“Can you just enjoy the fucking ride?” he says as if he is annoyed with me. I exhale and take a breath. I don’t know how many breaths I can take to keep from exploding on his nonchalant, arrogant ass. Thank God I have been able to practice exercising my patience with Chris these past few weeks. Talking to him is useless at this point so I won’t say anything to him until I have the right words to say. I turn my attention towards the window, looking out over the city that I drove into with a completely different man. My thoughts are broken when I hear him chuckle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him that with an amused grin on his face.

“What happened to you?” he asks, amused.

“I grew up. You should try it sometime.”

He grins. “I think there is more to it than that.”

“Don’t play psychiatrist with me if you don’t want me to play it with you.”

He laughs at that, but he doesn’t retort. That is a first. His silence is unexpected and a little unnerving.

“Did you miss me?”

His words are unexpected and he sounds sincere. My eyes trail over to him and for a moment I want to call a truce but we both have our walls up for our own reasons. “Of course I did.”

“Did you miss me when you were with him?”

I wonder if it’s always going to be like this—a contest between the two of them. I want to comment on it but I decide against it and I tell him the truth. “Especially when I was with him.”

He looks over at me, a hint of disbelief lingering on his expression. Did my sleeping with Chris cause him to think that we have nothing, that my feelings for him are gone? There are so many questions I want to ask him but I know he won’t answer most of them, so I ask him the simplest of them while I’m in a talking mood.

“Did you miss me?”

There’s a long silence and, right when I think he’s not going to answer, he says, “Every day.” His tone is quiet and makes me smile but a sense of sadness washes over me. If he’s here, where is Chris now?

“It used to be us before anything. Now it seems like that’s changed,” he says solemnly.

“We have a daughter now. It can’t be like that anymore. Secrets almost destroyed us, Cal. We almost lost each other, and I did lose you. I don’t want that to happen again.”

I wish this conversation wasn’t happening while driving. Are my words affecting him? Or are they going in one ear and out the other? He puts up a huge wall up around him, one that I could never get behind. Has he changed, is this the same man that left me on the floor in tears and alone all those years ago? He’s quiet, which means he’s probably thinking. This is good. So I decide to push it a little more.

“I want you to get better because I love you and for our daughter.” I see his jaw flinch, and I know I took it too far too fast.

“Better, meaning Chris?” he asks through clenched teeth.

“Better, meaning all of you,” I say defensively.

“Why didn’t you have this conversation with him?”

“I was going to but he’s not here now. You are. But why does it even matter? This shouldn’t be you versus him. We’re in this together.”

“We are? Well, since we’re all in this together, tell me, why did he leave?” he spits out.

“You tell me! Better yet, tell me how does this all work? Does he decide? Do you decide? Is there a fucking schedule that I can get a copy of? Because this is insane. I thought when you came back, I would have answers. That the big puzzle of my life would be solved, but of course, it’s not. That would be easy and, with you, nothing is ever easy.”

“There she is.”

“Who?”

“The real you,” he answers smugly. He’s such a smart ass. Great, he wants me to be a screaming lunatic and Chris wants me to be a nun.

Fan-freakin-tastic.

chapter 4

WE SURVIVE THE RIDE without killing each other and, eventually, I fall asleep. How do you fall asleep in the midst of a storm surrounded by a torrent of unanswered questions? I don’t know, but eventually your mind and body shut down and give you peace for a moment, and I dream. I dream about my world, about how it was, about Chris coming into it, how he changed things and then Cal comes back, flipping things on their head. When I wake, I think about where my world is going. How do I parent in the midst of dysfunction? How do I avoid being pulled back to the place I used to be? I feel like I’m fighting a war, weaponless and against an opponent that knows my very weakness is him. I open my eyes to see it’s dark out. The car has stopped and my door is open. I look up to see him leaning over me, his hands resting on the roof of the car. I sit up and look around.

“Where are we?” I ask, a yawn escaping my mouth. It doesn’t look like we’re in a part of Michigan or Chicago.

“Is that something you really need to know?” he quips. He’s such a smart ass.

“Yes I need to know where we are in relation to our daughter. You know, the one we were supposed to pick up from your parents.”

“Gwen knows we’re picking her up tomorrow,” he replies simply.

“You talked to your mom?” I ask, surprised.

“Gwen is one of the few people who doesn’t think I’m the anti-Christ,” he says sarcastically.

“And we’re in Venitan, a shitty little suburb in Michigan” he says dryly.

“What are we doing?”

“You say you want to know the whole story…all my secrets. Well, this is where it starts,” he says, reaching his hand out to me. I look up at him skeptically.

“Is this a game or something?”

“Games are for kids. Welcome to our new fucked-up reality,” he says.

Riddles and games, all freakin’ puzzle pieces. It’d be too easy to get straight answers. I let out a deep breath and watch him walk into the house.

I look around. It’s late evening and the street is quiet. It looks like a lower, lower middle-class neighborhood. I reluctantly follow behind him. I stop half way and wonder if I should just take off in the car and speed off to the Scotts’. That would be the logical thing to do, but then again, logic and I don’t work—we’re a toxic combination. If this is a game, though, there will be a winner and a loser. I don’t plan on losing.

I stop at the little mailbox in front of the house and look in it. I pull out three letters that all say Cal Scott on them. What the hell? He actually had this place—owns it, maybe? But, for how long and why?

“What? Are you Nancy Drew, now?” he chuckles before disappearing into the house. I begrudgingly make my way up the stairs and follow him into the little two-level home. By the time I’m in, he’s flicked on the lights and I’m actually shocked. The outside of the house looks old and more than a little worn but inside, it’s completely different. It’s decorated in cool grays and shades of blue. It’s impressive, looking like a professionally decorated space. On one end of the living room is a pale gray sofa with dark-blue pillows. A glass, asymmetrically-shaped coffee table with metal legs fills the space between the sofa and two printed, similarly colored, armless chairs. It looks expensive, like our home, which would mean the furnishings in this house are probably worth more than the actual house! In the left corner of the room is a fireplace surrounded by black stone. The kitchen is modern, complete with stainless steel appliances and is painted in the same grays and blues as the living area with just a touch of lime green in the backsplash mosaic and in the hand towels.

“So when did you get this? Why do you even have this?” I ask, confused.

“It was before us and the area interests me,” he says simply, taking off his coat and putting it away in a closet. His phone vibrates on the counter top. He glances at it and a wide smile spreads across his face.

“It’s Jenna,” he says, looking over at me. “You want to get it? What do you think Chris would say to her? Since he’s your new soulmate and all,” he says sarcastically. I can’t believe he’s really jealous. When I make no move to answer the phone, he swipes it from the counter and answers with a curt, “What’s up, Jenna?”

“No, it’s not Chris. It’s Cal. I was going to be calling you soon anyway. Just thought you should know Chris fucked Lauren last night,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Really, Cal?!” I shout at him. I can’t believe he just said that. Well, actually, I can believe it but oh my God!

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. The pussy grew a dick—a scientific anomaly.” He winks at me.

“Hang up the phone,” I say tightly, walking over to him. He backs away from me.

“I didn’t have anything to do with it. It was all him, trust me,” he continues, dodging my attempt to snatch the phone away from him. “If it makes you feel any better. I plan on fucking him right out of her memory,” he says with a wink.

“You are such an asshole!” I shout at him. Jenna’s not one of my favorite people. She’s actually my least favorite person but she deserves to hear about Chris's absence a helluva lot better than that.

“I’m the asshole? I’m not the one who screwed her fiancé,” he chuckles.

“Do you hear yourself?” I say angrily. “You’re mad at me because I slept with you? I let you touch me, your hands, your lips. You don’t trust me because of that?” I laugh hysterically and his face hardens.

“I don’t trust you because you turned on me!”

“Turned on you?” I ask in disbelief.

“You weren’t supposed to give up on us, remember?” he says bitterly.

“You told me you’d never look at me like I was the villain,” he continues, walking towards me.

“I’ve never looked at you like that!”

“How do you think you’re looking at me right now?” The quietness is eerie. For a second, I see vulnerability in his eyes. This man hides behind his arrogance, his cockiness, the hard façade. I have to remind myself this unbreakable man I’ve come to think of as Cal, isn’t right. He has a mental illness. He is broken, more broken than I’ve ever been and it’s entirely possible that he, in fact, sees what I did as a legitimate act of betrayal. I let out a sigh and lean on counter nearby.

“Are we going to be able to get past this? Are you going to hate me forever and never trust me again? Is this it for us?” I ask him sincerely.

He looks away from me. “I’m going to go get some groceries. Maybe you can make use of some of those cooking lessons you’ve been taking,” he says before leaving out the door. How much does he remember? Is it everything? How does he know all and Chris knows nothing except what Cal wants him to?

chapter 5

APRIL 30, 2008

I DON’T GO ON dates.

I haven’t had to since I’ve been here. I like to have fun. I like things to be easy and I usually like my girls like that. Uncomplicated. Girls I can see through. This girl’s different. I’m not sure if I like it or not but I guess I do because I’m here with her. It’s the first time I’ve been around a girl that doesn’t look like she dressed up for me—that she tried at least. She’s still gorgeous; I don’t think she couldn’t be if she tried. I haven’t been around a girl in a long time who didn’t have on a skirt that barely covered her ass, with tits on high alert. Even dressed how she is, she’s one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. In the club, she looked different. There, she was playing dress up. This, I think, is the girl behind the mask. Or maybe I’m wrong. I’m pretty good at reading people but I read her wrong when I first saw her.

Something about her scares me. She seems innocent, breakable, and that terrifies the fuck out of me. I’m used to dealing with girls that have already been fucked up so it’s not on me. I hope I’m not screwing myself in this. I’m just going to make up for throwing her into the disaster I put her smack in the middle of. That’s it. She’ll feel better, I’ll feel better, and we can both move on. If only she didn’t look at me with those wide hazel eyes and that innocent smile. Fuck, I hope she’s not a virgin. Nah, she can’t be. I couldn’t see that douchebag she was with dealing with waiting on a virgin.

“Uhm, where are we going, Cal,” she asks nervously as we make our way to the bridge. I try to cover the wide smile growing on my face. Getting her on the back of my bike was difficult. When I tell her what we’re doing here, she might freak the hell out. I stop and turn to face her and take her hands. Her eyes widen and I ignore how my heart speeds up. She lets out a little sigh. I force my eyes away from her lips.

They’re perfect and begging me to kiss them. “How open-minded are you?” I ask her, closing the distance between us.

She looks at me skeptically. “You’re not taking me to a giant wilderness orgy are you?” she jokes. Huh, she’s funny.

“The next best thing,” I say with a laugh and she bites her thumb. I hope she stops doing stuff like that. It’s so damn sexy and I’m not going to sleep with her. Fuck, I am going to sleep with her.

“We’re going bungee-jumping,” I tell her reluctantly and her eyes widen.

“What?!” she says, taking her hands from mine. “No. No, I can’t.” She shakes her head, stepping away from me.

“Yes, you can,” I say, taking her hand again.

“Are you, like, one of those people—uhm, what do you call them?—adrenaline junkies?” She starts to laugh, holding her head in her hand.

“Something like that but it’s not that bad. After you do it, you’ll feel like a different person,” I promise her.

She looks at me skeptically then past me. “This, this doesn’t look like an authorized site. Are we supposed to be doing this here?” she says nervously. Shit.

“Okay, so it’s not exactly authorized but Jake, here, is the man. I’ve jumped with him a dozen times. You won’t die. I promise you,” I say, trying to contain my laugh at the horrified look on her face. She lets out a deep sigh, and turns away from me.

She’ not going to do it. Maybe bungee-jumping was a little too much but dinner and a movie? That’s boring as hell.

I walk closer to her and I hear her breath hitch. It’s a turn on like nothing else. “Afraid of trying something new?” I ask her as her eyes find mine and she looks into them like she’s trying to see what’s behind them. It’s unnerving but a thrilling rush all at once.

“Okay, let’s do it,” she says, walking past me towards Jake.

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

“I didn’t ride an hour on the back of that death machine to sit and watch you have all the fun,” she says, nudging me. There’s more to this girl than I thought.

“Only thing is, I get to go first,” she says nervously.

“You’re kind of a boss aren’t you, Lauren?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “I better survive,” she mutters.

“You’re in good hands,” Jake says as we approach him. He turns to me. “C. Scott, and who is this cute little thing?”

“This cute little thing’s name is Lauren,” she answers before I can. I smirk at Jake who throws his hands up.

“Feisty?” he quips.

“So you know what you’re doing right?” she asks as he picks up the restraint.

“I haven’t killed this dude yet,” he answers.

“Who’s going first?” he asks and as Lauren steps closer to the edge of the bridge, her eyes widen.

“She is,” I pipe in and Jake gives me a knowing smile.

“I am,” she says quietly, shooting me a nervous glance.

It only takes Jake a few minutes to suit her up. “You’re awfully quiet, feisty,” he says.

“I’m praying,” she says with a light chuckle.

“It’s funny how religious people get before doing this,” he jokes.

“How many times have you done this?” she asks, after turning to face me.

“Twelve,” I answer and her eyes bug out of her head. “It’s not as fun as skydiving,” I tell her and she looks at me in disbelief.

“The first of the month, he’s usually out here,” Jake chimes in.

“Do you try to scare all your dates half to death?”

“You’re the first, feisty,” Jake says, giving her a pat on the back. I shoot him a warning glare.

“So I’m the lucky one, huh?” she asks, nodding her head and I give her a wink.

“Are you ready?” Jake asks and I watch as the color literally drains from her face.

“No. But let’s do this,” she says as confidently as she can.

“You’ve got this,” I tell her as she walks to her jumping point.

Jake stands behind her. “Hold out your arms and take a deep breath.”

I can feel my heart pounding, remembering my first jump. After that, I felt like I was better than him. That I could do anything. She does as he says, and I can hear how much air she’s sucking in.

“I’m going to count to five and then you’re going to jump okay,” Jake tells her and I can see she’s shaking.

“Kiss for good luck?” I ask her to ease the tension.

“I’m not so sure what type of luck you are for me yet,” she says nervously.

“One two, three, four…any last words?” Jake asks.

“If this goes wrong and I die. I’m haunting both of you,” and with that, she sucks in one last breath, rolls her eyes shut, and jumps.

“I thought she’d be a staller,” Jake says as we watch her soar through the air, her screams echoing.

My phone rings. It’s Dexter. You’d think with someone as much money as he has would find more to do than call me all the damn time.

“What’s up Dexter?”

“Gwen has called me about a thousand and one times this week”

“That’s nothing new.”

“I’m unsure as to why you won’t speak with her from what you’ve disclosed to me I see no r—”

“I’ll talk to her when I have something to say to her. Right now there’s nothing,” I say plainly, waiting to hear his disapproving huff.

“Helen will be back in town this week. Will you be able to see her?” he asks and I roll my eyes.

“I have the meeting with the Luxe brothers,”

“Well, this is even more important wouldn’t you say?”

“Sure, whatever. I’ll give you a call back. I’m on date right now, I think it’s rude to stay on the phone during it.”

“You’re on a date?” he asks skeptically. “Since when do you date?”

I laugh. “Since I felt like it.”

“Since when do you feel like it?” he asks wryly.

“Funny. I’ll talk to you later Dexter. Always a pleasure,” I say, hanging up just as Lauren has been pulled up.

“You survived, feisty. I’m a little sad you won’t be haunting me tonight,” Jake flirts.

“Hey watch it,” I say, warning him. He throws his hands up in mock surrender.

“Oh, my God! That was insane!” she says excitedly as Jake starts to help her remove her safety gear.

“I’ve got it,” I tell him. He frowns but wisely backs off.

“Good insane or…?” I ask her hesitantly but, from the excitement in her face, I already know the answer.

“Amazingly insane. I can’t believe I did that! I’ve never done anything like that before. I just jumped off a bridge and survived!”

“And you jumped without stalling. Not a lot of people do that,” I admit as I free her from her harness.

“Did you stall? Your first time, that is?”

“What do you think?” I ask her curiously and she takes a moment as if she’s really thinking. “No. You seem to do things without thinking first,” she says and I chuckle.

“Is that a good or bad thing?” I ask skeptically, and for the first time since she’s jumped, she looks away shyly before meeting my eyes.

“It can be both,” she says quietly.

I want to kiss her. Right here right now. Usually, I would but I’m the one stalling now. Which is strange because I’m not a staller. I don’t think; I just do. But something about her makes me stop and think and I’m not sure what to do with her. I’m not used to being in this territory. The reason why I’m even here is foreign to me. I don’t do this. I don’t rescue girls from assholes. I am the asshole—well, not as big as some of them are. I don’t think back on the damage I’ve done. I definitely don’t think about fixing it. I don’t even date; yet, here I am. Smack dab in the middle of a date with a girl who is too beautiful to not want to sleep with, with eyes that make you not want to look away but dare you to stare, gives you a conscience—one I’m not used to having, one that I prefer to block out. A bridge I don’t want to cross. She’s more than tempting, she’s dangerous.

And fuck if danger isn’t my thing.

Lauren

WHEN CAL FINALLY DECIDES to waltz back in, it’s with a bag of groceries. He glances over at me sitting on the couch, the TV on only as a distraction. I want to bombard him with questions as soon as he walks through the door but of course that would be the dumbest thing to do and the very thing that will get me no answers. He brought me here for a reason. I know he loves me; he has to. I have to give him time, but how much time?

“Are you going to put some of those cooking skills to use?” he asks, setting the bag on the table before disappearing into the bedroom. How much does Cal know, what does he see? Does he know everything that happens with Chris? I head to the counter and see that there is a carton of apple juice, eggs, bacon, two steaks, three potatoes and a bag of spinach. If he was Chris, this definitely wouldn’t be enough food.

I start to wonder how long we’re going to be here. For a day? Several? I trust that Caylen is fine with the Scotts but she should be with us…shouldn’t she? When she is with us, how does this work? Is he going to tell her he’s Cal and what will happen if Chris comes back? What happens as she gets older? Does she live with two dads? Do I become the woman with two husbands?

“You’re thinking too much,” his voice interrupts me from my trance. I try to read him. What’s his mood?

He’s a blank canvas.

“I try to keep my thoughts to myself these days. It seems to work out better for everyone,” I say quietly as I move past him to the sink to wash my hands. He leans back so that he can look at my face. His stare sends chills down my spine. He still has the ability to look at me and unnerve my thoughts, to unhinge my anger.

“I’ve been told that can cause serious problems,” he says and I try to stop myself from laughing. I feel him behind me, his chest pressing against my back. I close my eyes and think about how we were before, before all of this. When we were just us. He presses closer against me as his hands move on both sides of me and he washes his hands.

I’ve made up my mind. I won’t give him my body if he won’t give me the truth. He has my heart but I can at least deny him my physical self, no matter how difficult it is.

I move from in front of him and search through the drawers for the utensils we need. Without missing a beat, he’s pulls out a skillet and bowl. It’s quiet, eerily quiet, despite unspoken words blaring between us. I don’t think he and I have ever gone without talking this long, unless one of us was pissed off. I don’t think he is. I, however, am pissed but, more than anything, I’m hurt and still off-balance from everything that’s happened. Questions upon questions, unsolved mysteries, disconnected theories that want to burst out of me. I don’t voice them, though. I keep them confined in the pit of my stomach but they swirl around as dinner starts.

He does the hard part of the cooking. He makes the steak and the potatoes. I watch as he goes about doing what I now know he learned from Mrs. Scott. One thing that isn’t so much of a secret or a mystery like how it was before. I’ve tended to the spinach, which was easy.

“There’re plates in the cabinet over the sink. You want to put them on the table? I’m almost done. Your spinach is about to overcook, though.”

Shit.

I turn off the stove and, sure enough, there are dishes in the cabinets over me. I grab two of each and lay the dishes out on the table. A few moments later, he brings the food. For some reason, he seems more domesticated than he ever was years ago. After he puts the food out and I’ve made my plate, I quickly say a prayer. A habit I’ve picked up since eating dinner with the Scotts. When I open my eyes, I catch him observing me as if he’s absorbing my every move. I expect him to say something but he doesn’t. I look at his plate, which is the half the size of Chris’s, and can’t help but giggle. He eyes me suspiciously.

“What?” he asks, irritated. I shake my head and giggle again.

“What, Lauren?” he demands.

“You and Chris…eat so…differently,” I say, quickly stuffing my mouth with a spoonful of potatoes. It feels different saying his name to Cal. It doesn’t feel like a sore subject but I glance at him to see if I’m wrong. Instead of seeing him frown, a smug grin spreads across his face.

“He ate like a pig because he wasn’t getting any,” he says and I try to hide my shock. He’s watching me, waiting on my reaction. I’m trying to not give him one but what is he talking about? I want to play coy but screw that.

“What do you mean?” He can’t be referring to what I think he’s referring to. That’s not possible, is it?

“He and Jenna never…” I trail off.

“Nope,” he says, his eyes directly on mine, unearthing feelings within me that only he can evoke with just with his stare. I don’t know how to feel. Happy? I’m ecstatic, actually. All this time, I tried to never think about him and Jenna. It hurt too much. It made me sick. But, to know that he never…that means Cal never…and what I did with Chris, he sees as…God this sucks.

“Did that have anything to do with you?” I say quietly.

“What do you think?” he says stoically and I get up from the table. Cal could always be a jerk when he wanted but now he’s like a jerk with PMS. I head to the bedroom and slam the door. Was it a stupid question? How the hell do I know what’s stupid or off-limits since he’s shut himself off from me? The walls are up again and I feel at a loss because I have no idea what to do about it.

I feel the bed shift as he sits down on it. There’s silence, so much so that it fills the room. A moment later, his hand touches my back, causing a warm sensation to run through me but I shift away from it. That’s how it will start and that will not start tonight. There are so many other important things that need to be brought to the table and distracting me with his form of physical comfort won’t work.

No more distractions.

“I want to talk,” I say, rolling over to face him, his eyes find mine and I expect a look of scorn or disdain but I don’t find that at all. He looks away from me briefly and I slowly glide my hand across the bed and touch his. “Please,” I say, as sincerely as I can.

“I don’t remember a lot of my childhood. I know I had brothers and sisters. Or I remember playing with a lot of other kids, at least,” he continues. He doesn’t look at me but ahead of him. I wanted to talk but I definitely didn't expect this answer.

“There were always a lot of people in the house. A lot of kids, at least. The house was on this same block. I’ve been trying to find Clay since before I met you. My mom’s name was Isabella. My…biological dad’s name is Clay. She died when I was five.”

I sit up in bed and move near him. He turns to look at me and his expression is almost stoic. Then his eyes find mine.

“When I ask you how much do you want to know? Are you really ready to know? People think they want to know things but it can be ugly. It can change things.”

“There’s nothing that can change the way I feel about you,” I promise him.

“I know that you want things to be normal for Caylen. I don’t want her to be screwed up by me. I know why things have to be different now,” he says, looking me in the eyes.

“They have to,” I admit.

“What do you want to know?” he says casually, his posture adjusting to his casual tone as if he’s just said the easiest thing in the world.

“Are you really going to tell me?” I ask him, almost in disbelief.

“I’ll tell you whatever I can,” he says, his eyes on mine. I sit up, taken off guard by his openness.

“If you want to?” I ask, still cautious of the turn this has taken.

“If I think it pertains to you,” he says simply. There’s always a catch. I let out a deep breath.

“Why do you hate your dad?”

“William?” he scoffs.

I nod.

“Because he’s an asshole,” he answers simply.

I can’t exactly argue with that. “But there has to be more to it than that.”

“Next question,” he says gruffly.

Instead of arguing I go on to the next question “When Chris comes out, what happens to you?”

His eyebrow raises and he looks in front of him, his hardened expression softens. “I’m still there. I’m always there, it’s just…sometimes I can choose not to be,” he says quietly.

“So you don’t go in this dark prison or something,” I ask, the question sounding silly and immature but it’s honest.

A small smirk spreads across his face. “It’s not really like that. It’s more like a dream. Sometimes I choose to sleep instead, if that makes sense. When he met Jenna, I was asleep if that’s what you want to call it. I didn’t want to be around. I’d just left you. Gwen was dying. It was his turn to deal with the shitty side of life,” he says quietly.

“So you can choose whenever you come back?” I ask him with bated breath. My stomach coils. If he says he can, I don’t know if I can handle that information because knowing that he could have come back at any time and didn’t, will hurt more than anything he’s said to me.

“No. If it worked liked that, Chris would have been gone. Like I said, it’s like dreaming almost. Sometimes you can control what happens and other times you’re just stuck watching. It used to be easier to keep him from taking control. Now it’s harder to keep it,” he says as he stands up and walks across the room.

“Where is he now? Why does he not remember things but you do?” I ask him.

“Can that be enough for now? Just for tonight?” he asks me, looking into my eyes and I nod. I don’t know exactly why we’re here, or the fact that a simple piece of information pacifies me but I feel like what he’s just told me isn’t so simple. The reason why we’re here isn’t just a coincidence.

“One more question?” I ask him and he lets out an exasperated huff but nods. “Do you really not trust me anymore?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer but it’s something that I need to hear. Is loving the other side of him disloyal? I always wanted him to be able to count on me, to let me in, to be there for him. If he doesn’t trust me, if what happened between Chris and me makes that impossible, how could we ever move on from that?

“I trust you more than I trust myself,” he says before lying down next to me. The space between us feels foreign. I don’t cross it but slowly he does, pulling me closer to him, skin to skin. His touches start slow and my body melts, tension everywhere disappears as his caresses become firmer, deeper.

His hands move everywhere and find places that haven’t been touched like this in so long. It’s so different from last night when I could feel his passion, anger and frustration course through me. This time he doesn’t claim me but shows me in every way that I’m his. That he knows my body like no one else. I want to give in and break my rule, I’m so close to it…

“I’m so sorry babe. I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was right,” He whispers in my ear and he holds me close and long, I breathe him in and imprint his touch on my memory. I close my eyes, sleep catching up with me.

“I’ll never hurt you again. Even if I have to give you up.”

chapter 6

APRIL 31, 2008

IT WAS CLOSE, TOO close. I tried so fucking hard to not want her. I almost had her, right there, devoured her. She wouldn’t have even known what was coming. I can’t get her lips out of my mind, how she moaned in my ear, how everywhere I touched her caused her to react, I can’t imagine what she’d be like to fu…

No I can’t. She’s not the type that would get over it. I can’t see her moving forward with no strings attached.

Sex just won’t be sex.

When I saw that prick’s name on her cellphone, I wanted to go break his fucking neck. Me, jealous? One date and I’m jealous? No, jealous isn’t the word. The dude isn’t even competition. I feel possessive. I don’t want him anywhere near her.

He hurt her but what the hell am I going to do? Why couldn’t she be easy like the rest? But if she was, I wouldn’t be interested in her. She’s different and that’s why I like her, why I want her. I haven’t liked a girl in a long time. I’ve tolerated them, been comfortable around them, but I like this girl. The way she smiles, the way she talks, and how she listens. The way she looks at me, though, like she sees something that I don’t see, that’s what bugs me. She sees something that isn’t real, that will never be, that’s not who I am.

I should quit while I’m ahead. She’s one of the good ones. She’ll make someone a good wife one day. Maybe one day she’ll meet a normal guy with normal expectations, who’s not fucked-up. She’s the type that wants that life so why waste time? If only she just wanted fun. I could give her fun. I could give her amazing. I could make her forget about anyone that she thought made her feel anything. I’d do things to her…that I’m never going to do because it’ll make things worse!

She puts on a tough act, and she’s feisty, but I can see beyond it. She hasn’t been broken yet and I don’t want to be the one to do it.

“Never on time, are we?”

It’s Helen.

I thought I’d beat her here. I’m never on time anyway.

“I’d hate to surprise you,” I say with a wink before flopping on the leather couch on her office. She rolls her eyes. She’d better not be in a pissed off mood today.

Helen Lyce-Crestfield.

Smart, beautiful, and manipulative. The woman who was able to land one of the richest men in the country. I guess it makes perfect sense that she’d be my doctor. Her looks held my attention but her intellect caught me off guard. She liked to manipulate and I liked to play. We were a patient-doctor match made in heaven. Somewhere along the way she became one of the few people I don’t just tolerate but can stand to be around.

“So anything you want to talk about? Problems with the medication? Anything new I should be informed off?” she asks off handily.

“Nope same-o, same-o,” I say with a shrug.

“Then that’ll make this easy,” she says, finally sitting behind her desk. “Did you fill out the med card I gave you?”

“Do I ever?” I ask, playing with the stress ball I picked up from her desk.

“Of course,” she says, irritated.

“If I start having hallucinations, vomiting or some shit, I will be sure to call you right then and there,” I tell her sarcastically.

“So. How was your date?”

I sigh. Dexter and his big fucking mouth. “It wasn’t exactly like a date,” I tell her dryly.

“Then what was it like?” I swear she and Dex are a match made in heaven.

“I met a girl. She’s hot. We went bungee-jumping, had something to eat, and that was that,” I say, bored. “Can we cut this a little short today? I have something to do,” I say, standing.

“Cal, let’s not do this. You need me to sign off for the okay to meet with the Luxe brothers. There can be a lot of money in a deal like that for you,” I sigh and fall back onto the sofa.

“Come on, Helen. It’s nothing,” I tell her but I can already see those wheels spinning in her head.

“You have never been shy about sharing your liaisons with women before, which makes this all the more interesting,” she says.

I roll my eyes. When I first met Helen I wasn’t sure what to think of her so I did to her what I did to most beautiful woman. I tried to seduce her. In one of my ploys, I gave her every detail of my nights with whomever I took home. When that didn’t work, I thought it’d scared her off. In my defense, that was before I decided I liked Helen. She’s one of the only women I haven’t been able to screw.

“I haven’t done that in a long time,” I say, laughing, remembering how young and dumb I was.

“You made me sit through that for hours at a time. Not that Dexter didn’t thank you for it,” she teases and I make a vomiting expression. Now I can’t see Helen as anything but a sister and thinking of her and Dex having sex is disgusting, especially if I had any part in helping them get going.

“All jokes aside, Cal, a new person entering your life is significant and can impact things. Let’s chat.”

I stare at her blankly and look at my watch. We can do this for the next thirty minutes.

“Okay. I’ll start,” she says cheerfully and pulls out a file from her desk.

“Lauren Brooks, age 21, an English major at Chicago University, works as a waitress at The Vault,” she rattles off and I can’t help but laugh.

“Dex had her checked out?” I scoff.

“This surprises you?” she asks sarcastically.

“Well then, you guys know she’s harmless,” I say, getting up to leave.

“I think you like her from the way you’re avoiding speaking about her. If you do like her, I bet you’re trying to think of another date and if you are, I’d say an art student would love to attend the AIC opening Saturday.”

That could a better date than bungee-jumping. But I don’t even know if I should go on another date or call or her again. It’d be doing her more of a favor not to. Ugh. I glance back at Helen who gestures to the chair across from her.

Helen’s a woman and she’s my doctor. I guess I might well make use of what have been useless sessions so far. “Make yourself comfortable,” she says excitedly.

I take a seat and plop my feet on her desk which erases the smug grin off her face.

“You said make yourself comfortable,” I retort as she pushes my feet off her desk.

“So tell me about her,” she says.

“I think you know all there is to know,” I say sarcastically.

“I mean, what makes her different than the others? I recall you telling me”—she shuffles through her notebook—“The only thing that interests you in a woman is her bra size and how good she is with her mouth,” she says, her expression completely serious. I think I did say something like that. Who knew she really was taking notes.

“That was only partly true,” I say in my defense.

“So what makes Lauren different?”

“I don’t know if she’s different.”

“Well there is something about her that is causing you to respond to her differently than you have others.”

“I was just trying to make something right that I messed up for her,” I say honestly. She looks at me quizzically. I sit up and explain how everything happened the night I first saw Lauren and how I basically blew up her life as she knew it and only wanted to attempt to make up for it. After I’m done, she folds her hands on her desk.

“Maybe she reminds you of another part of yourself.”

I roll my eyes. “Trust me it’s not that.”

“Well, let me ask you something, Cal. I’m assuming you want to see her again or you wouldn’t have cared about me offering you the AIC tickets. What happens next?”

That’s the million-dollar question. I know what I want to happen next, what usually already happens. I smile at her suggestively.

“So what’s the problem? You have no problems with your sexual prowess so to speak. Or has the medication been affecting you that way?”

“No! No problems there, trust me.”

“Well then, what is the issue?” she asks.

“I don’t think it’ll end there with her. I don’t think that’s all it could be. If that makes sense,” I say, my eyes landing on my lap.

“My, Cal Scott. Have you grown a conscience?” she asks whimsically.

I don’t say anything because I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

“Has Lauren expressed to you wanting something more than something casual?”

“No, but I can tell she’s not the casual type.”

“You’re inferring, and I’ve learned that when people infer it could be a reflection of something within themselves that they’re projecting onto their situation.”

“Are you saying I want her to want something more than casual because that’s what I want?” I laugh.

“Is that so ridiculous? You’re an adult now. You’re not the 19 year old I met so long ago,” she says and I roll my eyes.

“It’s okay for you to desire a higher form of intimacy than just sex. It’s not something that you have to rule out because you associate it with what Chris would possibly want.”

“This isn’t about him!” I say, feeling my jaw flex.

“Speaking of Chris—”

“You brought him up,” I remind her.

“Have you felt any episodes arising?”

“If I had, I’d tell you,” I mumble. I’m getting frustrated with this conversation.

“If you complete my cards, I wouldn’t have to ask you these things,” she says in a singsong voice that annoys me.

“Can I just get the tickets?” I ask tightly. She smiles and her hand disappears into her drawer and she pulls them out, handing them to me.

“Also, you pulled up a ton of information on Lauren. What about Clay?” I ask and she sighs.

“Not any more than last time. It’s a little different to find someone who doesn’t want to be on the radar,” she explains.

“My patience is running out, Helen,” I warn her, walking towards the door.

“You wouldn’t be yourself if it wasn’t, Cal,” she calls back before I leave.

It always feels like a ton of bricks have been lifted off me when I leave Helen. I joke around with her but there’s more to her than meets the eye. This was just a stop-in with her but usually she’s a griller.

My phone rings and it’s the person I’ve been waiting on. “Tell me you got something good,” I say, trying to cover my annoyance. I’ve been paying this investigator big bucks and, so far, the trail has been a bunch of dead ends. I know Helen and Dexter have been giving me the run around on Clay but there’s more than one way to skin a cat.

“We think we’ve spotted him in Venitan.”

“Venitan?” I say aloud, to make sure I heard what he said right. Of all the places I’ve tracked this guy, he ends up right back in the town he ran from? “Do you have someone tailing him?”

“Of course. That’s extra, considering what happened last time.”

“You guys got it wrong the other time. I hope you don’t disappoint me on this one. It won’t be good.”

I walk to my car thinking of the man who brought me into the world, probably off a beer in the back seat of some shitty car. Why does he get to walk around after everything he did, how is it that not one person has made him pay? I wonder if he thinks about the kids he left behind, if he’s destroyed anymore lives, if he knows that one of them is searching for him, that his time is running out and that the one he left behind will be the one to make him pay.

Lauren

IT’S MORNING AND I’M in bed alone, no longer wrapped in the warmth of Cal’s arms. I make my way out of bed and prepare myself for another day. What type of day this will be, I can only guess. Today we have to go and get Caylen. Cal will face off with the Scotts and what happens then or after that, I don’t know.

I look at the clock on the dresser near us and see it’s not even seven a.m. yet. I take a deep breath and head into the living room of the small apartment we’ve nested in for the past day or so. It’s cool and foreign, different from our house in Chicago and the Scotts’. It took a while to get used to the Scotts’ place but it eventually became warm and personable and, as much as I hated being alone in Chicago, it was mine and was once my and Cal’s home. Here, it feels off, like we don’t belong here. Neither of us.

When I reach the living room, I don’t see anyone. I look to the bathroom and see that it’s empty as well. Then I notice the front door is cracked open. I head back into the bedroom and put on warm clothes. Once I make it outside, I see Cal standing in front of the house, his hands clasped on his head.

“Cal, what’s wrong?” I ask him as I approach. When he turns around, his expression is broken, unshed tears glimmer, frustration and confusion evident on his face.

“Oh no,” I can’t help but squeak out.

“What happened? Where are we?” he asks painfully. My stomach drops and I feel my throat tighten. I try to think of what to say to him, how to answer his questions, how to assure him that everything is okay. I need to be strong but I feel weak. I’m confused myself and overwhelmed. I try to say something but as soon as my mouth opens, I feel as if I’m going to vomit.

“Are you okay?” he says, concern replacing his puzzled expression.

“I—I don’t know.” I chuckle and begin to laugh as tears start to fall from my eyes.

*

HE DOESN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING.

Nothing important at least.

The last thing he remembers is being at the hotel room back in Detroit and talking to me through the bathroom door. He doesn’t remember us making love or telling me that he loves me, which makes this entire situation that much more complicated. He’s trying to comfort me but he’s shaken himself and he should be. He’s lost and sullen, just like I am that I have to explain to him what happened. I don’t even know now if it was even him that said those things or whether it was Cal all along. That thought alone makes my blood boil. If it was Cal then that means that moment between Chris and me hadn’t actually been a moment between Chris and me after all and it was nothing more than a trick, a test, a sick, twisted game…

“I’m so tired of this!” he says grimly. Frustration is radiating from him. I want to comfort him, to tell him everything is going to be okay, but I don’t know if anything is okay. Cal was just here last night in this house and now Chris stands before me with not a clue about what’s happened. I don’t know what to think or how I should feel. I’m at a loss. I feel more lost than before I knew about Cal’s…or Chris’s condition.

“Going back and forth. Why does he do this? Why am I doing this?” he says, his voice rising slightly in panic. “How do we do this if he can come and go whenever he feels like it?”

“I—I thought that this would be okay. That everything would be fine, Chris, but I can’t even tell you how I feel right now. I don’t know how to feel. This is so…” My voice breaks. I stand up and try to make my way to the bathroom when Chris stops me, gently touching both my shoulders. My eyes meet his warm, greenish-grey ones and it makes me feel sick that the man looking at me doesn’t remember what he said to me, how he touched me.

“Lauren, what’s wrong? I know I missed something. Tell me what,” he asks looking me in the eyes.

“It’s not important,” I say, trying to plaster the fake smile I’d perfected in the weeks prior but am having a hard time even mustering right now.

“No, it has to be.”

I shake my head, denying it. “You should probably call your mom,” I say, quickly trying to hold my emotions together as best I can before they pour out of me. Crying in the bathroom has become such a pathetic routine but routines are comforting and safe.

Once I reach my safe haven I try to catch the breath that keeps trying to escape me. I’m shaking. I have to make myself calm down. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s just split my world in two, that’s all. I have to get it together.

I can’t be weak. I don’t even have the luxury to choose to be weak. One of us has to be the strong one and I can’t depend on that being Chris or Cal, or anyone besides myself. Everyone can’t be a basket case. Someone has to hold it together for Caylen. The thought of her makes anxiety course through my veins. The good thing is this doesn’t affect her yet. She’s only one but what happens when she isn’t? How is she supposed to understand? Understand that daddy isn’t exactly the same daddy every day. How do I get a child to comprehend and understand when I, as an adult, can’t even understand?

That’s what my aunt Raven meant about protecting her from all this. But how do you protect her from a man that helped created her, that loves her? I know for a fact both Cal and Chris do. It’s one thing they have in common. Cal came back and broke through whatever haze he was in to be there on her birthday. Chris has fallen in love with her but how do I not worry? Am I doing the right thing for her? Are they doing the right thing for her? It’s like they’re both in a war, locked in a battle against one another and it’s not helping anyone but themselves. It’s destroying everyone around them. I can’t believe Cal. I wonder if he knew that when he woke up, Chris would be back. I think back to his words. Describing his absences as dreams. It makes me so mad. He gets to go away and dream while leaving me in this nightmare. He’s a selfish asshole and a smart one. He had to have known that this was going to happen. That’s why he fed me that bullshit last night, barely telling me anything, asking if it could be enough. I should have said ‘Fuck no! I need to know everything!’ but, of course, Cal plays me like a violin. No, not a violin. I won’t even compare this disaster to a classical instrument. He plays me like a three year old plays with a toy, without thought or compassion, and I’m the toy without a brain.

chapter 7

MAY 10, 2008

A BUST. A FUCKING bust! Why does everyone I hire have to be such a fucking idiot? It’s better to do things yourself than to depend on anyone else. The dunce detectives I hired lost him. How the hell do you lose a 50 year old alcoholic with a limp? Fucking dummies. I should have gone as soon as they told me they found him. I should have hopped on the jet and went straight there.

“We’ll be landing in five minutes Mr. Scott,” the attendant on the jet tells me, looking at the glass on the floor from one of the bottles I threw across the room.

“I will be back in to clean that up for you,” she says. I wave her off.

“I’ll do it, don’t worry about it,” I say, frustrated.

“Fuck!” I say aloud. I almost had him. Right in my grasp. I was going to be able to break his fucking neck, and they lose him. I lean back into whatever foreign material seats Dexter probably paid a million fucking dollars for. Thinking of him makes me pissed off even more. He thinks he’s so slick, saying he can’t find Clay, to give him time while he sits back twiddling his damn thumbs. It’s fine though. Maybe it’s time to twiddle my own thumbs for a while. He thinks he's the only one that can play that game? Fuck Dexter Crestfield, I’ve been too nice, too calm, too relaxed. I’ve learned that doesn’t get you anywhere. My phone vibrates and I see it’s a text message from my driver Byron, letting me know they’ve arrived at the landing site. It surprises me that I feel my anger and frustration dissipating, thinking of the package he’s bringing me.

Lauren Brooks, hopefully wrapped in a nice tight little bow for me. This definitely isn’t a good night for me to see her. I’m frustrated and need a release. I haven’t had sex in almost three weeks which is a record, for me at least, and after this shit today I need a girl I can have climbing walls tonight. I try to push aside the image of how she’d look as I make her come.

I’ve never tried this hard to convince myself to not have sex with a girl before. She’s beautiful, hot as hell, but she’s funny, and sweet, and smart and she likes me and that’s the problem. Most girls don’t like me, they like how I look, the cars, the money, the places I take them.

Which is cool since I usually just like the way they look, smell and feel under or on top of me, but she’s different. She’s dangerous for me. She doesn’t even know it, I can’t let her know it. I need to get a fucking grip. I’m pulling out the Aston tonight. One of Dex’s many toys, I don’t even know why, we could have just taken the limo like I planned but I want her to see it. It worries me that I want to impress her. I usually don’t give a shit and it isn’t even hard to impress girls. The universe didn’t give me much but it gave me looks that make girls wet and usually the more of a dick you are the more girls like you. Since I’ve been told I’m naturally a dick, it works out for me, but around her I don’t want to be an ass. I call her and she’s excited, her voice is high but sometimes in the conversation it’ll drop an octave, becoming low and seductive, and I wonder if she knows what it does to me. She seems innocent, which makes me think of how fun it would be to corrupt her, even though I like her just the way she is.

It’s a catch 22.

I make my way out of the plane and when I see her it’s the first time in my life I want to freeze the moment. She’s waiting for me outside the limo, and her beauty smacks me in the face. The dress she’s wearing reminds me how sexy she is, it isn’t tight but short, revealing just enough to make me want to know what’s under it. And it’s thin enough I can rip it off in seconds. The closer I get to her the more adrenaline I feel, my blood already pulsing through my entire body. She smiles at me as I get closer to her, a smile I could see every day. One that reminds you of your childhood, fresh baked cookies right out the oven, and as my eyes make my way down her body I feel hungry for anything but food.

“You look,” I have to stop myself from saying something that will scare her off. I don’t usually censor myself so who knows what the hell will come flying out of my mouth. I want to stop looking at her but I can’t and I have to see the full view.

“You’ve got to do a spin for me.” I take every inch of her in. She starts to blush, looking away from me bashfully, and I’m even more turned on.

“Hold that thought,” she doesn’t have to move an inch. I walk behind her to get a better view. She’s a ten from front to back. I have to touch her, but once I do I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. Still I can’t help myself. I won’t touch her where I want, that’s a lie. I want to touch her everywhere and not stop but I control myself. I’ll just touch her waist, her stomach, those are safe zones. My hands slide across the thin material and I feel her relax as my hand slides across her stomach as I pull her toward me. She feels so good, she smells good, I’ve got to stop or we won’t even make it to this opening.

You need to give her an out.

I can’t. Not now, it’s too late.

I want her.

For how long?

Long enough.

“I’m glad you could make it,” I whisper in her ear, ignoring the voice in my head.

Note to self: Have Helen up my meds.

Chris

SOMETHING HAPPENED. I KEEP trying to think while Lauren has locked herself in the bathroom. Everything has gone so wrong, it’s usually what happens after he comes out. He ruins everything. This is the worst I’ve felt in a long time. Not knowing what the hell is going on, what he did. Why Lauren looked at me with a hint of resentment in her eye, that’s when she did look at me. It’s like she can’t even look at me at all, and how can I expect her to? What the hell did he do? Why am I in Venitan? I want to know everything but I know this isn’t the time to bombard her with questions, she seems about a second away from having a nervous breakdown. I try to pull myself together. I have to fix this. Whatever happened, whatever he did to screw things up I have to fix. I always fix them, this shouldn’t be any different. I hear my phone ring and go to pick it up. It’s my mom.

“Hi,” she says hesitantly.

“Mom,” I say relieved. No matter how bad things get her voice always gives me hope that they can get better.

“Chris! It’s you honey. Thank God. Are you okay is Lauren okay? William, it’s Chris!” she says, going a hundred miles an hour.

“How’s Caylen?”

“She’s fine Christopher but where are you? What happened?” It’s my dad's voice on the phone.

“I’m in this place called Venitan. I-I don’t know how I got here. Or why I’m here,” I say, trying to sound as calm as I can.

“It doesn’t matter son. You just need to come home. Now. The safest place to be is with us,” my dad says.

“Is Lauren with you honey?” my mom asks.

“Yeah, she’s in the bathroom. She’s pretty overwhelmed with all of this. She didn’t expect to see me this morning. I’m guessing Cal came back,” I admit, feeling my stomach sink. “When she saw me, she seemed confused and upset but the worst part of all this is that I think she was disappointed that I was here and Cal was gone, but I mean what did I expect?”

“Oh honey. Please don’t think that,” my mom interrupts me.

“Well, son, that is the problem with you being with Lauren. She’s not rooting for you. It’s always going to be for Cal,” my dad interjects.

“William, you don’t know that,” my mom says defensively.

“I do know it. We all do. That’s why it’s best for her to leave once she gets Caylen,”

“What!” my mom snaps.

“Look what’s happened. He goes away with her alone for a few hours and Cal takes over. I told you she was the trigger.”

“We don’t need to talk about this over the phone,” my mom says.

“Mom’s right. I’ll see you guys soon, okay,” I say, hanging up.

I take a deep breath and see that I have several missed calls and voice mails. Aidan’s called me almost more times than my mom. That’s really not like him. I dial his number and after a couple of rings he picks up.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks angrily.

“Look. I have a lot going on right now so if this isn’t important,” I cut him off.

“No it’s real important man,” he says, his voice not giving away a hint of amusement which is unlike him and I feel my heart start to beat. What else can go wrong?

“What is it?” I ask reluctantly.

“It’s not something I think we should talk about over the phone dude,” he says, his voice hushed.

“Just tell me Aidan, I have enough crap on my mind than to wonder what’s next,” I tell him frantically. There’s a long pause which seems like a thousand years.

“Just say it!”

“Look man, Lisa came over here yesterday crying and a fucking mess.”

“What are you doing?! What the hell are you doing Aidan?!” I hear yelling in the background. It’s Lisa. The phone becomes muffled.

“Hey! Hey guys what the hell is going on?” I scream loud enough I hope that they can hear me. After a few seconds I hang up the phone in frustration. I hear footsteps and see Lauren enter the room.

“Is everything okay?” she asks looking like the time in the bathroom did her well. Maybe I need to spend a few minutes in there.

“Lisa and Aidan are idiots that are trying to drive me crazy,” I say, trying to laugh off how worried I am. The expression on Lauren's face doesn’t make me feel less worried.

“Oh Chris,” she lets out a deep sigh that worries me even more.

“Lisa called you while…while Cal was here and he blew up on her,” she says carefully.

“Oh no,” I say aloud.

“Why the hell was he a jerk to Lisa? What did she ever do to him?” I ask angrily and my phone rings. It’s Aidan again.

“Hey Chris.” It’s Lisa’s voice.

“Lisa. I’m so sorry. That w-wasn’t me. Whatever he said to you, ignore it...”

“Chris. It’s okay. I know,” she says, reassuring me.

“It’s not okay and I’m sorry,” I apologize again.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine, are you okay? Why were you and Aidan fighting?”

“You know me and Aidan. We’re always fighting,” she laughs, but it’s dry and seems forced.

“What’s wrong Lisa? Is this about what Cal said to you?” I glance over at Lauren who looks down uncomfortably. It must have been pretty bad to upset Lisa.

“He didn’t upset me Chris. I’ve been called worse. It’s a little strange when it sounds as if it’s coming from you, but it was nothing,” she says dryly.

“So everything is okay?” I ask unsurely.

“Yeah. Aidan just saw how upset I was and wanted us to talk about it,” she says, sounding nervous.

“If you weren’t upset over what Cal said to you, what was it?” I ask, sitting down on the couch and preparing for the worst because the way things are going now it has to be bad.

“It can wait. It’s not a huge deal with all you have going on right now. Just when you get back, let me know so we can talk, that’s all.” Her voice is calming, it's how she talks to the kids she works with but it’s setting off all kind of alarms.

“Are you sure?” I ask her again.

“Positive. It’s nothing that can’t wait,” she says. I let out a deep sigh and glance over at Lauren who’s sitting quietly, listening in. If it can wait, I’ll let it wait. I have enough on my plate anyway.

“Okay. We’re heading back now I think. I’ll come over tomorrow morning if that’s cool,” I say with a shrug.

“Awesome,” she says quietly.

“Cool. Does Aidan need to say something to me?”

“No Aidan’s cool. Right Aidan?” she says tightly.

“Yup. I’m all good,” he responds dryly.

Whatever.

“Okay. Later then,” I say before hanging up the phone.

“Is everything okay?” Lauren says quietly and I run my hands over my face.

“They say it is, so if they say it’s okay, I’m going to let things be okay,” I say exasperated. She nods slowly, and looks down at her lap.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” I ask her. She looks up at me and lets out a breath.

“Lisa knew about Cal when you guys were younger,” she says in one breath. I feel my eyebrow shoot up. I definitely didn’t expect her to say anything about that. I was thinking more along the lines of what happened with Lauren and Cal.

“No. Lisa would have said something,” I tell her and she starts to squeeze her wrist.

“Did Cal tell you that?”

“No. Lisa did,” she says quietly.

“When was this?” I ask, trying to keep any annoyance out of my tone but I’m not being that successful.

“It was about two weeks ago. She asked me to not say anything. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal until Cal blew up on her.” I shake my head.

“Did she say anything else?” I ask, nervousness in the pit of my stomach.

“No, but she asked me not to tell you for some reason. I didn’t want to break her trust but with everything that’s happened I just don’t want to keep secrets anymore, no matter how small,” she says, her big hazel eyes, usually so bright, only sparkle now due to the tears in them.

“I don’t want there to be any secrets between us either,” I tell her and a half smile spreads across her face and she takes a deep breath, sitting all the way up and facing me.

“Well, in that case, I think you should know that we slept together. Both you and I and me and Cal.”

*

HER STATEMENT IS LIKE a knockout punch. Her eyes stay on mine and don’t drift away. Lauren and I slept together? Then she slept with Cal? So many emotions are hitting me at once I don’t know what to respond to first. She’s looking at me for a response and I know there shouldn’t be any secrets between us but I really wish she could have waited before sharing these pieces of information with me. I open my mouth to say something but no words come out.

I slept with her? I’m angry because first, if we did have sex, it’s beyond cruel that I can’t even remember. Then, if we did, how could she turn around and sleep with Cal. I’ve only been out of it for two days.

“Please say something,” her voice is light, vulnerable and soothing and I don’t want to be soothed by her after hearing what she just said. I try to think of what to say to not screw this up and to make the gap that’s formed between us any wider but nothing is coming to me.

“I-I don’t know what to say Lauren…,”

“Whatever you want to say. Just let it be honest please,” she says, her tone pleading. I feel anger starting to course through me. Bitterness creeping up and jealousy I never felt before. If I don’t say something now I’m afraid of what is about to happen. I can’t say what I want to say, what I want to say will her hurt her. But how could she sleep with him? After everything, how he lied to her, how he left her and Caylen, after I wasn’t even gone a day, maybe, she sleeps with him?

“I don’t remember, maybe Cal tricked you,” I say standing up from the sofa, trying my best not to be bitter.

“Well, the first time at least,” I say with a shrug. Her cheeks flush bright red and she looks away from me. I’ve embarrassed her. I’m embarrassed for the both of us. I can’t believe what I just said to her, I can’t believe this has even happened, that I have to say anything and…worst of all, how bad it hurts hearing what she just said.

“I’m going to get some air. I think we need to be leaving to get back to Caylen,” I say, heading out the door.

chapter 8

Lauren

HONESTY SHOULD BE WHAT works. Not more secrets or lies. I thought that it would be better to just say it. To get the truth out in the open before another second passed. I didn’t know how he’d take it. Whatever he’d say or do, I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as facing off with Cal. That’s what I thought. Turns out, this was worse. So much worse. For a brief moment, I thought things would be okay between Chris and me. That he’d tell me everything was going to be okay and we’d move past it. That he’d say it wasn’t my fault and that he was sorry all of this was happening. That he’d maybe tell me how his biggest regret was not remembering. Instead, as soon as the words slipped out, a shell came over him. I saw it as it happened. He hardened toward me, a glint in his eye that for once wasn’t indifferent or confused.

He was angry, he was bitter and for that moment he couldn’t hide it. He tried to hide it which makes all of it worse but it was too much for him to even do it, and what he said to me made me feel worse than when Cal screamed at me when he found out I slept with Chris. Well, at this point who knows if I slept with Chris, since he doesn’t even remember.

It’s entirely possible Cal tricked me, slipped in and went for the easy lay. Where he didn’t have to answer any questions or put up a fight. We’ve been driving for an hour and the tension in the car is suffocating, and unable to be ignored. I want to say something but no words come, I don’t know what to say. How do I combat what he said? This one man, these two men that I love more than any other person besides my daughter. Both cut me deeper than anyone else has ever been able to, they just use two different knives.

I feel exhausted, my body is rested and energetic but my mind feels like it’s going to either shut down or overload. Chris hasn’t said one thing to me since I’ve gotten in the car. The hardened shell is still there and his warm green eyes stare straight ahead as we slip out of the little town that Cal dropped me into. I wonder what he’s thinking, if he hates me. It’s hard to think of Chris hating anyone but the way he’s acting I know he doesn’t like me right about now. The only thing that gives me some form of solace is that if he didn’t care about me he wouldn’t be this upset. But what good does that do now? My phone rings and I pull it out of my bag.

“Oh no,” I say aloud.

“What’s wrong?” his tone is dryer than a dessert and his eyes don’t even glance at me.

“It’s Helen. I completely forgot about our meeting,” I sigh.

“If there’s a good time to talk to her this would probably be as good a time as any,” he mutters.

“Helen. Hi I’m so sorry. There is just so much that has happened over the past two days,” I say, trying to stress my sincerity.

“I figured that. Cal called Dexter yesterday,” she reveals.

“He did?” I say, trying to not sound completely surprised.

“From the way you’re speaking I take it that Cal is now Chris,” she infers.

“We really would love to see you. I-I would. I really could use your help in all of this,” I say quietly, wishing I had more privacy than a few inches. It’s funny how in just a few days I went from despising Helen and wanting to kick her ass to wanting to talk to her more than anyone. She’s the one person who could help me through this. Because this is not anywhere as easy as I thought it would be.

“Okay. How about I meet you in Michigan tomorrow evening,” she asks and I let out a sigh of relief.

“That would be so amazing.”

“Great. I will call you tomorrow to let you know what time I’ll be arriving.”

“Sounds good. Thank you. Thank you so much Helen,” I tell her before hanging up the phone.

“Do you think we can trust her now?” I look over at him as he briefly glances at me.

“I-I just need someone to talk to. Who understands, who can help me understand,” I tell him honestly, fiddling with the phone in my lap.

“I thought that you had a handle on all of this. That you understood,” he says quietly and I can’t help but let out a dry chuckle.

“I thought I did, Chris. Even after finding out about you and Cal not being here and trying to accept that was doable. But this, it’s a completely different thing. You don’t understand what it’s like for you to be here one day and then he’s here the next. In theory I always knew it could happen, but I never really prepared myself for it.”

“You hoped for it though. Right?” he asks, with not even a hint of sarcasm in his tone. I take a deep breath and try to think of what to say that won’t hurt him, that won’t make things worse. But I only have the truth and I can only be as delicate about it as I can.

“I’m still in love with Cal, Chris. I can’t lie to you about that,” I say quickly and his expression doesn’t break except for a small twitch in his jaw.

“But, I love you too, I’ve fallen for you and it’s hard for me to understand why it seems like loving both of you who, I know as the same man, seems such a betrayal,” I say.

“I never said that I felt betrayed, Lauren. We’ve been friends, I’ve started to care about you a lot but I always knew,” he trails off and the silence is deafening

“You always knew what?”

“If it came down to it. Who you’d choose,” he says quietly. I feel a burning sensation in my throat.

“You know you both hate each other. You have a lot in common. This choice you both bring up. As if it hinges on me…It doesn’t you know? It doesn’t matter if I picked one of you, what would stop the other from popping up whenever you felt like it?” I say, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I don’t have a choice in this. Why don’t you both get that? I love you. That’s it, so I’m stuck in this for the long haul, whoever chooses to show up whichever day,” I say angrily. I’m so tired of this. I feel like a fucking volley ball being bounced across a net. I look over at Chris, seething in his quietness. I’m tired of feeling sad and guilty and confused. Maybe I should just stay angry. Angry is better than feeling lost, depressed, and hopeless.

“Would you like to know what Cal told me? Like why were in that house, in that town?” I ask him and he shakes his head.

Really? I’d think he’d want to know that it would be important but I guess not. But what the hell do I know? I don’t even know who the hell I’ve been sleeping with.

Chris

OF COURSE SHE’S STILL in love with him. I knew she still loved him, it’s not like I thought otherwise, but to hear her say it. Even after telling me she slept with him, to hear that she loves him. That hurt, more than I expected it to. But, she did say that she loved me.

She’s not afraid to say it, or beat around the bush about it…but how can she love him and love me? We’re so different, and he’s an asshole. I can’t believe I don’t remember what happened between us. I said that I think Cal tricked her, pretended to be me but I was being the asshole then. It doesn’t seem like his style, and when I was at the hotel with her it was getting harder and harder to be around her and not tell her the truth about how I felt. To not want to touch her and have her in my arms. It’s hard now, even with all that’s going on. When she’s mad her skin flushes, her eyes gaze in on me, her voice deepens and, to be completely honest, it’s absolutely sexy.

How can I not remember anything about being with her? It could have been him but I want it to have been me, not him. Either way, he still had her after me, right after me apparently. I feel like an idiot but I can’t help but wonder if she liked being with him more than me. He’s been with her more and longer and he has more experience. This is stupid! I shouldn’t be thinking about any of this but I can’t stop, but I have to.

There are too many other things for me to be worried about than who she liked having sex with more. She’d probably slap me if I asked her. Then the thing she said about us both wanting her to choose. I’m sure he does, he’s probably sure she’d choose him if it came down to it, but she’s right. It doesn’t matter what she wants, if she did choose me he just wouldn’t decide to go away and never return. If she chose him…well I wouldn’t even know how to. She’s fallen asleep on the last leg of the ride. To be honest I’m glad, it’s hard to pretend to be mad at her, because it’s all pretend. How can I be mad at a woman who has decided to put up with someone like me, who when she looks at me, lets me know I’ve never known true love before?

I pull up in front of the house. I don’t want to disturb her. It seems like she hasn’t gotten a lot of sleep in all of this, how could she? She starts to stir and I watch her wake. She glances out the window and sees that we’re back at my parents’ house.

“Great!” she mutters.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your fiancée is over there,” she says, gesturing towards the house. My heart immediately starts to beat out of my chest when I see Jenna sitting on my porch.

“I know you didn’t want to talk about what happened when Cal came back but it might help you to know that Cal told her that we slept together,” she says quietly. Before I can respond, Jenna’s come down from the porch and is in front of the steps of the house. Normally dressed so well, she has on jeans and an uncharacteristic oversized hoodie, her hair pulled back.

“Just stay in here while I talk to her,” I tell Lauren who sighs and rolls her eyes but complies.

“Jenna, what are you doing here?” I ask, but before I’m even near her the smell of alcohol nearly knocks me out.

“Really, Chris? It’s funny how within just a couple of days, the question of my presence is a necessary one,” she says with tears in her eyes and I feel a sting of guilt.

“I’m sorry Jenna.”

“No! No more apologies or your weak excuses. I am done with you, Christopher Scott,” she says, nudging me in my chest. “Do you understand what it’s been like for me since she arrived,” she yells, pointing at Lauren in the truck. “She ruined everything! This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were getting married. You loved me!”

“I still love you, Jenna. It’s just I can’t hold on to you while I figure things out with me. You deserve better than that,” I try to explain.

“I’m done talking to you. I didn’t come here to talk to you. I want to talk to her. She deserves to face me!” she says as she shifts her weight between her feet. Oh no.

“Jenna. I’m taking you home,” I say, grabbing her arm as she tries to pull away from me.

“No! This is between me and her,” she says, snatching her arm away and heading towards the car where she proceeds to beat on the window, causing the alarm to go off.

“Get out and defend yourself you stupid whore,” Jenna says as I pull her over to her car.

“What is going on?” My dad comes out of the house, looking confused.

“Jenna’s drunk. I’ve got to get her home,” I tell him, even as she continues to tussle in my arms.

“She ruined everything!” Jenna screams. “She doesn’t get to just get away with it,” she continues yelling.

“Jenna calm down. Stop this—you’re better than this!” I tell her firmly.

“Apparently that’s not true because I’m still not good enough for you!” she says, pushing me. My dad has made it down the stairs and over to us. Lauren has gotten out of the car at this point and is headed inside the house, which sends Jenna into a frenzy.

“You trapped him with your kid. That’s the only reason he chose you. Slut!” Jenna screams. Lauren stops in her tracks and scowls at her.

“Lauren, don’t. She’s drunk. Please just go in the house!” I yell over at her.

“Oh please don’t, bitch! I’m right here,” Jenna continues to taunt her as me and my dad attempt to get her in the car. Lauren stops in her tracks. Thankfully my mom appears in the doorway and says something I can’t hear and Lauren goes in the house.

“One big happy fucking family huh, Chris?!”

“Jenna. Where are you keys?” my dad asks her firmly and she slams her hands against the hood of her car.

“Jenna, stop it!” I yell at her. I have never seen her like this before.

“Don’t talk to me, Chris. Let your dad take me home. I never want to see you again. Never!” she screams at me before stumbling into the passenger side of her car.

“I’ll drive with her. Follow me over,” he says before getting into the driving seat of her car. I make my way over to Lauren’s car and when I look back at Jenna gives me the middle finger. One I have to admit I deserve. Once I’m in the car I let out a deep breath before resting my head on the steering wheel. Everything Jenna said, I deserved to hear. I should have told her as soon as Lauren got here that we should take a break. I just hoped, I thought that things would end differently, that somehow everything would work out in the end, that no one would get hurt and that there would be a happy ending in this for everyone involved. After everything I thought that we could all get our happy ending, but the longer this goes on the more it looks like no one’s going to get it.

*

IT ONLY TOOK MY dad a few minutes to get Jenna in the house. It seemed like the ride over calmed her down or the alcohol made her sleepy. I can’t believe I’m the one who drove Jenna, a self-respecting, intelligent, beautiful strong woman to get beyond wasted and turn into a person I’ve never seen before. Is this what I do to people? Break them down, destroy their happiness? Is this what my life has come to? My dad looks relieved once he’s out of the house. I see him pause and shake his head before making his way over to the car and getting in. Once he does he lets out a deep breath.

“How is she?” I ask, too embarrassed to look at him.

“Jenna will be fine. She’s strong…she just…sometimes you need that moment to crack,” he says quietly.

“I know she’ll bounce back, I just hate that I’m the one who caused the pain she is in. That I lost a friend.”

“Let’s get going, son,” he says and I start the car and drive home. I’m surprised that he’s quiet and hasn’t mentioned anything about what’s happened. I knew I’d get an earful about how he was right, and Lauren being around is a bad idea, and that what I did to Jenna was wrong. I’m sure she told him everything that happened while he was in there. Maybe he’s just giving me a break for tonight, one that I’m grateful for. The only thing I want to do right now is sleep.

I turn off the car and start to get out.

“Chris,” he says before we’re both out of the car. I let out a deep breath. I knew it was coming.

“I was really glad to hear your voice today,” he says, patting me on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry about everything today, there’s always tomorrow for that” he says, getting out of the car. I start to follow him and my vision gets blurry.

I’m no longer walking down the lot to my house but down a street, one that looks familiar, the houses look run down, the grass is over grown and most of them look abandoned. A couple of cars pass by. I make my way up the stairs of one of them. Chipped green paint covers the outside of it. The railing on the stairs is crooked. It’s dark out but the light on the porch flickers as if it is being powered by the least bit of energy. I knock on the door three times. The reflection on the dirty plastic portion of it reveals me with a baseball cap on my head and a worn jacket. A deep voice on the other side asks "Who is it?"

“It’s me,” he replies.

Cal.

A second later the door cracks before opening. It’s a man, a big man, at least 6’3" and about 260 pounds. He lets me in and I close the door behind me.

“He’s downstairs,” he tells me.

“Good,” I reply as I follow. The house is pretty empty. There’s an old dirty couch in the living room only accompanied by a tiny old TV, card table and a mini fridge. I follow the man to a door revealing a basement. I follow him down, the air immediately becoming cooler and stale. When we arrive at the bottom there’s another man, this one skinny in a big painter's suit and a cap on his head. Then I see him. A man tied up in chair with a black cloth over his head.

“We didn’t touch him. He’s perfectly intact just like you wanted,” the big dude says.

“What’s the blood on his knee from?” he asks wryly.

“Moving damage,” the little guy chuckles. He stops laughing at the look Cal shoots him. He grabs one of the folding chairs, putting it directly in front of the restrained man. Cal removes the black hood from the man’s face, revealing a terrified man with tape over his mouth. He steps back, arms folded across his chest. He kneels down so he’s at eye level with the man. The man has hooded dark brown eyes and thick bushy eyebrows with olive skin, and a small scar on his left cheek.

“So, this is the guy?” he asks dryly.

“That’s him,” the skinny one says.

“Clay Rice,” the big one chimes in.

“Now, I’m going to take this off. If you scream we’re going to have a problem. So you’re not going to scream. Right??” Cal says tightly. The man nods frantically.

Cal snatches the tape off the man’s face. And he lets out a small yelp.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“C-Clayton Reece,” he stutters, not looking at anyone in the room.

“How old are you, Clayton?”

“Thirty. Th-thirty nine, sir,” he says as tears pour out of his eyes.

“Do you have any kids, Clay?”

“Yes sir. A seven year old girl. She’s my world, sir.”

“Have you ever been to jail, Clay?”

“Yes sir. For a few car robberies when I was younger. Nothing since. I’m straight sir. I-I don’t know what I’m doing here,” he starts to say in a panic.

“Calm down, Clay. If you start rambling, that’s just going to irritate me and I’m already pretty irritated. Do you have a tattoo on you back?”

“Yes sir,”

“Of what?”

“Of an e-eagle, sir,” he says, starting to cry. Cal lets out a deep sigh.

“Do you have his wallet?” Cal asks. The smaller guy tosses it to him.

“Okay, Clay. I’m going to put this tape back on your mouth and this hood back on your head, but don’t worry. These geniuses are going to take you back home and you’re going to forget this ever happened, okay. I’m going to take this just in case,” he says, showing the man his ID.

“Wait, what?” the big dude exclaims.

“And for your trouble,” Cal says, pulling out a stack of hundred dollar bills and stuffing it in the man’s shirt, then he puts the tape back on the man’s mouth.

“What are you doing? That’s our money” the skinny guy says.

“This isn’t him,” Cal says calmly.

“What do you mean this isn’t the guy? He fits the description."

“This isn’t the fucking guy!” Cal yells.

“I told you his name was Clay RICE. I told you he has a tattoo of a motorcycle on his back. I told you that he’s about 6’4" and this guy can’t be over 5’11" you fucking idiots!” Cal roars and they both look confused and quiet.

“We thought he was lying or changed his name,” the big guy says defensively.

“No fucking excuses! Drop this guy back off tonight in his neighborhood, with the money. Then how about you find the right Clay?!” he roars, heading up the stairs of the basement.

“Alive!” he adds, before leaving and slamming the door...

“Chris!” It’s my mom. Holy shit! What was that?

She runs down the porch stairs and hugs me like I’m five years old again.

“It’s okay mom,” I assure her as she dotes on me like a toddler.

“I was so worried about you. I didn’t know when I’d see you again,” she says with tears in her eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere mom,” I tell her with as much confidence as I can, but to be honest I don’t know when it’ll happen and I’m starting to see things maybe I don’t want to know about.

“Are you okay honey?” she says gripping my face and looking into my eyes.

“Yeah. Just. All of this, you know,” I say as calmly as I can. She nods.

“I-I’m sorry about how things have gone with Jenna,” she says, and I give her a weak smile.

“Me too,” I say as I take her hand and we walk into the house.

“Are you hungry? I haven’t cooked anything since you left,” she chuckles.

“I’m sure dad was thrilled about that,” I joke, trying to lighten the tension.

“Honey, your dad couldn’t eat a bite either. We were so worried after that phone call with Cal,” she sighs.

“What phone call?”

“Oh. I thought Lauren might have told you,” she says looking away nervously.

“Ugh. I didn’t. I kind of asked her to not talk to me about what happened when he was here,” I admit, feeling like an idiot now. She looks at me sympathetically.

“It wasn’t a big deal. Just. Well Cal being Cal,” my mom sighs with a shrug.

“I’m actually going to skip dinner mom. I just need to get some sleep,” I say, kissing her on the forehead.

“Honey, things are all going to work out just fine. I know it,” she says before I leave the kitchen. I give her as much of a smile as I can muster. If only I could believe that, but now not only do I have to worry about what happens when Cal comes but what the hell he’s done when I wasn’t here.

chapter 9

Lauren

IT’S GOING TO BE a new wonderful fantastic day. Well, even if it’s not, it can’t get any worse than yesterday. The sky would literally have to fall to beat that disaster. I think back to last year, when it was just me and Caylen, how simple things were then. Except I was lonely, frustrated and I had a broken heart. The sad thing is not much has changed. Well, now I’m beyond frustrated, confused, and I’m afraid to break someone’s heart. I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for one of them, that I’m not strong enough for the other, yet I can’t let either of them go. Great, right? At least I got to see Caylen. Hold her in my arms and her little smile makes all of this seem worth it. Even being called a slut who used my own child to keep a man who is about to have me on the brink of a psychotic break down is worth her smile.

It took everything in me to not go after Jenna yesterday but I knew she was drunk, and deep down I can’t blame her for being angry. I try to remind myself that my life wasn’t the only one disrupted, hers was too. It’s just hard to feel sorry for someone who is such a bitch, and how could she call me a whore when I’m the one married to…well, them I guess.

I’m married to them.

It’s like the title of a Jerry Springer episode.

I’m so hungry, but I’ve been avoiding the kitchen like the plague. I just can’t see the Scotts right now. I can’t help but feel it’s my fault for Cal coming back, which to them is like spreading the plague. Then, being in the middle of Cal’s epic tantrum. I know Mr. Scott blames me. Mrs. Scott was so sweet and comforting, yesterday. I know she’s going through so much on her own. Not knowing who your son is going to be when he shows up, has to be as bad as not knowing who your husband is going to be. The good thing in all of this is Helen comes today, and I am hoping talking to her will help me to sort this out, to be able to talk honestly without worrying if I’m hurting someone. To tell someone how much I’m hurting. My phone starts to vibrate and I see it’s Lisa. I instantly feel guilty about telling Chris what she told me. I at least should be the one to tell her before he does. I’m not sure if Chris will, but just in case.

“Hey,” she says, not sounding like her usually chipper self.

“Hey Lisa. How are you?” I say, trying to muster up my own chipper tone.

“Okay, I guess. I was hoping you could meet me, so we can talk,” she says, her voice almost monotone. Maybe Chris called her or went over there last night and she’s pissed.

“Uhm. Did you talk to Chris?”

“Not today. I wanted to talk to you first,” she replies.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

“Okay is relative isn’t it?” she kids, sounding for a moment like the Lisa I’ve come to know.

“I have to meet with a friend later on today…”

“Can we meet now?” she interrupts. I look at the clock, it’s not even 7:30 am.

“We can get breakfast. There’s a diner named Goldman’s about five minutes away from you. It’s on me.”

“Uh. Okay. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Great. I’ll text you the exact address.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Lauren, can you not mention to Chris that you’re meeting me?” she adds and the twinge of guilt I felt earlier turns into a complete stab.

“Please,” she says after my long pause.

“Not a problem,” I say hesitantly.

“See you soon.”

*

WHEN I WALK INTO Goldman’s, it’s relatively empty. I guess for a Tuesday morning it’s expected. I easily spot her in the booth stirring her iced water with a straw. I walk over to the booth and slide in.

“Thanks for coming,” she says with a small grin. Her hair is pulled back into a short pony tail. She doesn’t have her usual make up on. Any actually. Her blue eyes dart between me and her water.

“You didn’t bring Caylen.”

“No, Mrs. Scott is going to keep an eye on her until I get back.”

“Chris didn’t work today?”

“I’m not sure. I’m actually sort of avoiding him,” I say with a sigh. Her eyebrow raises.

“You know the whole Cal coming back thing has kind of thrown things off track,” I joke and I notice her smile tighten.

“About Cal. I’m so sorry that he spoke to you that way,” I say apologetically.

“Did he say anything about me?” she says abruptly. Other than calling her a lying little cunt…

“Not much,” I lie. She eyes me searching my expression as if she’s looking for another answer. Or to see if I’m lying.

“I-I have to tell you something,” I say hesitantly. Her eyes narrow in on me.

“I told Chris that you knew about Cal from when you were younger,” I rattle off quickly. I expect her to become angry, to start screaming at me about how I betrayed her trust, but she doesn’t. She laughs and lets out a relieved sigh.

“Oh that’s it? It doesn’t matter really, not now anyway I guess,” she smiles, her blue eyes lighting back up.

“But other than spewing obscenities about me?” she asks with a dry chuckle.

“No, nothing other than that,” I say, feeling a little more than uncomfortable.

“Why doesn’t Cal like you?” I ask her bluntly and she seems a bit taken aback. “It’s just. It seems like there’s more to it than you spurning him in high school,” I admit.

She looks away from me her attention going back to the lone lemon in her water glass.

“There are things that Cal knows about me that. That Chris doesn’t,” she says hesitantly.

“What kind of things?” I ask her and a sad smile spreads across her face.

“… Things that I regret doing,” she pauses and I see tears well in her eyes.

“Things that could hurt a lot of people. Including Chris,” she chokes out.

“Cal…he knows these things?” I ask her hesitantly. She nods. More secrets.

“Here you go hon. Are you ready to order?” a waitress asks, interrupting the most awkward conversation ever.

“Whatever she’s having. Thank you,” I say and the waitress nods before scurrying away.

“I hope you like egg white omelet,” she jokes, while my heart is beating like a madwoman.

“If Cal knows whatever these things are, Chris can find out at any time Lisa. He’s starting to remember things and not only that right now there’s no way of knowing when Cal will come back. What type of things does he know?” I ask her urgently. "If Cal has something on Chris that can hurt him or put him in danger…”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It won’t put him in any danger or hurt him… physically,” she says, vehemently shaking her head.

“Lisa, you can tell me,” I say pleadingly.

“It’s better that I don’t tell you Lauren. Trust me. I told Aidan and he wishes he didn’t know,” she says, a smile on her face but a tear falling from her eye that she quickly wipes away.

“I asked you here because I’m going to tell Chris. I was going to tell him before all of this happened and I chickened out after talking to Cal and Aidan flipping out like he did... Now circumstances have changed where I don’t really have a choice. I just have to get my courage back up. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I was stupid…so stupid,” she says, tears flooding her face.

“Lisa it can’t be that bad. Whatever it is,” I say sitting next to her in the booth and pulling her into a hug.

“We all make mistakes. We all do things that I’m sure we wish we could take back,” I say, rubbing her back.

“I didn’t ask you here to feel sorry for me,” she chokes out. She pulls away from me and takes a deep breath.

“When I tell him Chris is going to need you Lauren. Like he never has before. Promise me you’ll be there for him. That you won’t let Cal destroy him.”

*

MY HEAD’S POUNDING. LISA wouldn’t budge with any specific information. She’s going out of town for the next week to clear her head and when she comes back she’s going to tell Chris and I can’t help but feel like a huge anvil is going to drop. I don’t know how to prepare for it. To prepare Chris for it. We have so much to deal with already I almost wish that whatever the hell Lisa has to get off her chest she just swallows it until things return to normal, but I can’t ask her to do that. I can’t imagine holding something in like she is. Which is why I’m outside of Aidan’s door hoping he’s home. He hasn’t answered my first few knocks, so now I’ve proceeded to bang on the door.

“I’m coming. Shit!” I hear him yell. A few seconds later his door swings open and I feel my eyes widen.

“What the hell?!” he growls. What the hell are the right words! He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs revealing his five star sculpted military body. He has two black tattoos wrapping around his large biceps and I have to rip my eyes up from his hard chest heaving up and down.

“Oh, Lauren. Is everything okay?” he says, his tone going from an angry growl to concerned. I nod, trying to member why I’m even here as his baby blue eyes stare into mine. God, Aidan is hot!

I can’t believe it’s the first time I noticed how good he looks.

“Can I come in?” I ask, coming back down to reality.

“Yeah sure,” he says opening the door for me to come in. I walk past him into his house. It’s a lot smaller than the Scotts' and has an old fashioned feel to it with floral patterned sofas and a similar type wall paper. The one thing standing out is a brand new extremely big television. Then I remember that this is Aidan’s grandmother’s house. I’d bet the TV is his.

“Feel free to sit anywhere,” he says, folding his arms across his chest.

“Sorry about earlier. It’s just really fucking early,” he says with a yawn. Whichever way he moves causes his muscles to flex.

“I’m not really in a hurry, if you want to go back and change,” I suggest, gluing my eyes to the floor. I hear a dry chuckle escape his mouth.

“Uh. Sure. Give me a sec. I should probably brush my teeth too if you’re not in a big hurry so you don’t pass out from my morning breath,” he laughs and I chuckle, watching him head to what I assume is his room.

A few minutes later he re-appears, this time in a pair of loose fitting pajamas and a wife beater. Much better.

“So what’s up? Everything’s okay…?" he asks hesitantly, sitting on the sofa across from me.

“I don’t know. You tell me. I just came from breakfast with Lisa,” I inform him and his expression sets into a frown. He lets out a deep sigh and claps his hands together in front of him.

“What did she tell you?” he asks, his voice unwavering.

“Basically that she’s holding on to a bomb that she’s going to drop that’s going to affect my husband pretty badly, but not giving me any clue what it is. Which is going to drive me pretty crazy.” Aidan lets out a low groan deep from his belly and runs his hand over his blonde hair that’s grown quite a bit since I first met him.

“I can’t tell you Lauren. It’s not for me to share. I shouldn’t even be involved,” he says defensively.

“Please. You have to. I’m already a wreck and this has made things worse,” I plead.

“If you know, it’s going to make things a hell of a lot worse for you than you not knowing. Trust me, I really wish I didn’t know,” he says, standing up from his sofa and pacing the room.

“Nothing is worse than the unknown.”

“No there are A LOT of things worse than the unknown and this is one of them,” he says back sternly.

“What can I do? Is there anything I can do to help with the fallout of this?” I ask and when his expression breaks and he shakes his head my stomach feels as if it’s dropped several floors.

“I’m not sure but I think that what happened is what made him need Cal.”

chapter 10

SEPTEMBER 26, 2008

FATE HAS TO BE a prankster. I know this because someone up there has to be laughing his ass off at me. I never thought it’d happen to me, but it has. I’ve fallen for a girl. A girl I was only supposed to pay back for intervening in her life and fucking it up completely. Now I can’t see her not being in mine. I knew once I slept with her things would change, I thought she’d get clingy and want to be around me all the time and not want to share me with other women. Turns out since I met her I can’t even think about screwing around with someone else. Not the way she makes me feel. Her smile makes me feel like everything I thought I had was worthless. I hate it but can’t let it go at the same time.

Nothing will make me let it go.

“So you’re sure you’re ready to up the dosage on this?” Helen asks me for the third time.

“No, I’m not sure. I’m just wasting both of our time because I have nothing better do.”

“You said it’s safe, right?” I say, irritated with her hesitancy all of a sudden.

“We’re still running clinical trials in Russia, and they are a lot more l…”

“Save me the FDA disclaimer Helen. I want to do this.”

“Okay. Okay. Don’t let me stop you,” she says defensively.

“Not like I would,” I give her a wink to let her know I’m an asshole only in fun. She rolls her eyes at me and sighs.

“Remember, the slightest thing happens out of the ordinary, you let me know,” she says, giving me a worrying grin. Like a mom would her son and I push that thought to the back of my brain where the garbage goes.

“So if I may ask,” she starts.

“And you’re going to ask anyway…”

“Why are you doing this Cal?”

“Seriously?” I ask her in disbelief.

“I think it’s for the girl,” she says knowingly.

“The girl's name is Lauren,” I correct her.

“I think it’s time that we meet Lauren,” she says with a wide smile.

“Okay,” I say simply grabbing my jacket preparing for the jacked up Chicago weather that’s going to greet me downstairs. Her eyebrows raise.

“That’s it. It’s that simple?” she asks surprised.

“She’s been asking questions about meeting my family and, well, you know that wouldn’t exactly work out,” I say sarcastically.

“I’m shocked. You really care about her?” she says, way too excited. She even comes from behind her big intimidating desk and swats me on the chest. I shrug her off but I can’t help but smile. It feels good for it to be out there. That it’s been said.

“Have you told her about…”

“No and I expect it not to come up in conversation,” I warn her.

“Of course. I would never—I have an oath that I’m bound by,” she says gesturing to her wall of a thousand degrees.

“I will be Dexter’s beautiful brilliant wife, and your friend only,” she says happily.

“And make sure Dex doesn’t make any snide comments, I’d hate to kick his ass in his own house.”

“I will handle Dexter. I will have Luc come and make a fantastic dinner; we will tell her how great you are.”

“Well, I’ll see you. Email me the details,” I say heading out the door.

“Cal,” she calls. I knew that was too easy.

“If you really care about her. You should tell her or at least start to prepare her. It’s not fair for her to not know,” she says solemnly. I pull out the little bottle of pills she gave me earlier.

“If you’re as good as you say you are. Soon there won’t be anything for her to know.”

*

I WANT TO GET HELEN’S words out of my head. I’m not afraid of much, but the thought of Lauren finding out about me, of her looking at me differently scares the shit out of me. I can hear music playing before I open the door.

She stayed.

I’ve been trying to get her to stay at my house when I go on trips for the past few months but she always puts up a fight, she’s stubborn as hell. I didn’t take her for that when I first met her. The only time she really gives in is when I’m inside her, and I can’t complain about that.

“You’re home early,” she squeals from over the railing upstairs. Her smile is always contagious. She bounces down the stairs, wearing a tight t-shirt squeezing her apple sized breasts and tiny shorts that she won’t have on much longer. She jumps in my arms.

“Ugh, you're cold!” she laughs trying to get away but I hold her close to me.

“I’m about to warm you up,” I tell her, my hand slipping underneath her shirt.

“Your hands aren’t,” she purrs, kissing me lightly. Just a taste, a tease, she’s about to give way more than that.

“You’re just in time to watch The Notebook,” she says excitedly attempting to get out of my grasp.

“The Notebook…” I groan.

Hell no.

“And there’s popcorn,” she giggles, gesturing to it.

Ugh. I want to say no then she gives me her sexy ass little pout face. I roll my eyes.

“Okay,” I give in.

“Yay!” she claps her hands and then helps me take off my coat and puts it in the closet. I flop on my couch and a second later she scooches in front of me.

"You used my shampoo."

“You know, I like smelling like you,” she admits with a chuckle.

“Was it terrible being here?”

“Absolutely, it’s too big, too luxurious and is not up to my standards at all,” she says sarcastically.

“My friend Dex. The one I told you about. Him and Helen invited us to dinner,” I say casually.

“You want me to?” she asks, her tone almost surprised.

“Only if you want to go.”

“I do,” she says quickly.

“Good.” A few minutes pass as I try to think of the most discreet way to get her out of these shorts. If her butt didn’t look so good in them, I’d beg her to only wear skirts and dresses.

“I was starting to think you were ashamed of me or something,” she says playfully, but there’s a hint of truth behind her voice. I turn her towards me.

“I’d have to be a fucking lunatic to be ashamed of you,” I tell her and she smiles, the same smile that got me here instead of watching the game, watching The Notebook. She kisses me, it’s innocent, but enough of an opening for me to pull her lips into mine, her mouth opens partially and I coax out her tongue and squeeze her ass. It drives her crazy and the little sounds she makes trying to hide the fact make me insane.

“Nooo,” she moans into my mouth and breaks away.

“Not until the movie's over,” she giggles, quickly turning away from me but she’s close enough I can change her mind. I slip my hands underneath her t-shirt and drag my fingers across her stomach. She takes my hand in hers, stopping my path. I grunt.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” she giggles and I stop and look at her and think about this moment. I could be like this with her…forever. Except forever isn’t really an option with me, unless this medicine works that Helen’s team has been working on. Since I’m volunteering to be the first guinea pig it’s all a toss-up, but when I look at her…the risk is worth the reward.

You should just tell her.

Helen’s voice echoes in my head. I can’t just tell her—for one, she probably wouldn’t believe me, and if she did, it would change everything.

She’s mine, the one good thing in my life and I’m not going to share her. Everything comes easy for him, life just hands itself over to him and when it doesn’t, he gives up and leaves me to deal with the hard part. I have to fight for what I get, nothing comes easy.

Finding Clay with as much money as I’ve spent should be easy but it’s been a nightmare, him slipping out of my grasp as soon as I have him. He’s the last thing I need to put to bed. After he’s done, maybe, just maybe, things will be easy and I can have a chance at something with Lauren. Before her I never wanted a permanent fixture in my life, now I need it more than anything.

I won’t let it go.

Lauren

I FEEL LIKE A clock is running, each second that passes causes a crack to appear in an already fragile glass that’s barely holding itself together. I hoped coming back to Madison would provide some time of normalcy, some form of comfort, but right now it feels constricting, like I’m trapped, unable to escape and everything is closing in. My visit with Aidan didn’t yield any information and just made me feel as if I’m strapped next to a bomb that’s going to blow, but I can’t leave because the man I love is strapped in a chair next to it…

I hate all of this, secrets and lies. I thought I was moving past that but I was wrong. I was wrong about Cal opening up to me. I was wrong about thinking Chris would be more understanding of this situation with Cal and I was wrong to think that I could handle this on my own, that I could make this work. Right now it seems like nothing is okay.

Everything is on the brink of chaos. My head won’t stop pounding, anxiety has planted itself in my chest and I feel like I’m constantly in a marathon, but I can’t appear that way. I have to appear strong, I have to appear hopeful, that I haven’t given up, that things are looking up from here, but in reality I’m barely holding on. So many conflicting emotions coursing through me, battling with each other until I’m exhausted, tired and starting to feel numb.

I try to pull some version of myself together as I sit outside the Crestfield mansion. It’s an extremely large estate, enough to have about eight regular sized homes on it. Helen’s in there, waiting on me. I was excited about seeing her, someone who could possibly help me to understand the reality of this, but now I feel like I’m going to see a doctor who holds my life in her hands. When I arrive at the door I’m greeted by one of the housekeepers. She leads me to the second floor, sun seeping through the house, extravagant paintings on the wall. The décor doesn’t seem to fit Helen or Dexter at all. It feels as if we’ve been walking forever through the house, well mansion, this is a mansion.

When we reach our destination the housekeeper knocks on the door and introduces me. It’s all so formal and a bit intimidating. Helen calls for us to come in. The room is large and, of course, all white and neutral colors. Helen is sitting behind a white desk that stretches out across one corner of the room. There are two big beige arm chairs in front of the desk and a fire place adjacent. The other side of the room seems more for pleasure with a large television mounted on the wall and a matching white sofa sprawled out in front of it. The carpet is white with not one blemish on it. It’s modern and completely different from the rest of the house.

“Lauren,” she greets me. Her tone is warm and welcoming. She looks different with her hair half up and the rest down. She’s wearing a large button up that falls over her statuesque frame and black tights underneath.

“Could you bring up a pitcher of lemon water, Grace?” Helen asks, coming from behind her desk.

“Of course Mrs. Crestfield,” the housekeeper says before leaving the room.

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” she asks cautiously, and I can feel my cheeks heat up, embarrassed about what happened the last time I saw her. I nod, meeting her half way. Her embrace isn’t awkward or stiff, which is how I expected it to be, but warm and comforting. I wonder if the Helen I knew, is the real Helen. Cool, calm, collected and sharp. Was that the role she had to play to observe me, to make sure I was a good fit for him? Or is she playing the role now as a nice kind ear just ready to listen and filled wisdom and knowledge. The thought makes me stiffen up. She pulls back from me, her expression sad and full of sincerity.

“I just want to say how sorry I am Lauren,” she says with my hands in hers, “and if someone did to me what I did to you I would have reacted just as you did.”

“I know why you did what you did. I don’t think it was right, and I really wish that you didn’t, but that’s in the past. I really need your help in understanding what our future is going to be like,” I tell her.

“Right,” she nods in understanding and gestures to one of the big white chairs in front of her desk. I take a seat in what feels like a piece of heaven and hope I don’t drift off right there.

Grace reappears with a pitcher of lemon iced water and two glasses which she pours for both of us.

“Thank you Grace, that will be all, and can you please make sure I have no interruptions?" Grace nods in response before closing the door behind her as she leaves.

“How are you?” she asks and I start to answer, attempting to tell her that I’m fine and just ready to work on making things right, but the moment my mouth opens my lip starts to quiver and I unleash everything that has been pent up. I cry for what Cal and I had, I cry for not knowing the truth for so long. I cry for the dreams I had for him and I that will never happen, for what Chris and I had seeming so far away, for everything that I have no control over, for the things that I can never fix, what I don’t even know needs to be fixed. I cry in her arms for I don’t even know how long until I can’t cry anymore. When I’m done she hands me the glass of water, after I use the Kleenex on her desk to clean my face.

“How do you feel now?” she asks, going back around her desk and sitting down. I manage a smirk.

“I feel numb now, which is better than how I felt before I got here,” I admit.

“How are things with the Scotts?” she asks, her tone empathetic.

“Mr. Scott hates me,” I chuckle.

“He hates you?”

“Yes. He hates me. He hates Cal and he thinks I trigger Cal so he in turn hates me.”

“He has never been fond of Cal but to reflect his hate on you…”

“Is he right? Do I bring Cal out?” I ask her.

“It’s not a bad thing Lauren.” I look at her in disbelief.

“Have you grown to resent him, Lauren?” she asks and my mouth falls agape.

“Of course not,” I say, feeling my defenses rise.

“I don’t mean to insult you and I could see it being a perfectly normal reaction after everything.”

“I don’t resent Cal. I resent some of the things that he does and how he goes about things but I could never resent him. I love him.”

“Good,” Helen says with a warm smile.

“You’re the only person that seems to think so,” I say, resting my head in my hands.

“Do you feel guilty for loving Cal since you’ve met Chris?” I look up at her and my eyes glide to the wall full of certificates and degrees and it hits me that Helen is the real deal. I never knew her this way. I knew she was smart and she used to be a doctor, though I never really thought to ask her what kind, I just had her pegged as this beautiful, trophy wife.

“I do.” I admit, and it feels good to be able to say it out loud.

“Since I’ve met him and his parents and knowing all they’ve been through, I feel guilty for wanting Cal back. Especially knowing that when he’s back they lose their son.” She nods as if she understands and leans forward on her desk.

“The hardest thing about treating patients with DID, Dissociative Identity Disorder, is getting them to understand that each and every alter is a side of them. To not look at them differently or as an appendage they want severed.”

“I-I still feel really new to this.” I let out a deep sigh. “This is just from what I was able to pull off google, but integration is the final goal?”

“Yes. But it has to be their goal. As long as they still fight one another and can’t come to common ground, integration isn’t a possibility,” she explains sullenly. I run my hands across my face.

“Getting those two to agree to integrate,” I chuckle dryly. “It’s not going to happen,” I say, letting out a deep sigh.

“I will say Lauren, it’s a lot more likely since you’ve come into their life.” I shake my head.

“Neither of them is all that thrilled with me at the moment,” I sigh. She looks at me questioningly. “It’s really complicated,” I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“Complicated is my specialty,” she says with a reassuring smile.

I explain to her all that’s happened between Chris and I and how Cal reappeared and was so angry and how Chris says he doesn’t remember us sleeping together. It feels so good getting it off my chest, I end up telling her about the conversation between Lisa and me and how I don’t know what to do to fix things when I’m not sure what needs to be fixed.

“Well that is a bit complicated,” she sighs. “First. There is nothing to feel guilty about. You are his wife. We must remember that Cal and Chris are the same man.

However, you must understand that they each think of themselves as separate entities so they are not going to be understanding of the fact. It’s completely normal for them to see being with the other as an act of infidelity.”

“Infidelity. I’ve never cheated on Cal a day in my life. I was never unfaithful,” I say defensively.

“I know that Lauren, but Cal won’t see it that way. In fact you being with Chris may be worse for him than if you were with another man.”

My mouth drops open. She can’t be serious.

“Bear with me please,” she says, being able to tell she’s losing me.

“You have to understand that as far as Cal is concerned you’re his wife, and in addition to that, he feels as if you belong to him. You are the one thing in his life that didn’t belong to Chris. It’s one of the many reasons that he never wanted Chris to know about the condition. Why he never told you the truth,” she explains and I feel my stomach twist into knots.

“Is this something that you’re inferring or that he told you?” I ask.

“Patient privilege,” she says with a weak smile and I let out a sigh.

“So what I am supposed to do? I don’t want to hurt either of them. I don’t want me to be the reason they hate each other more than they already do.”

“Then don’t be that reason. Be the reason they come together.”

“I don’t understand,” I ask, confused.

“My advice to you is to not be romantically involved with either until they start the process of integration.”

“Yeah, well, that will be easy when Cal isn’t here,” I mumble.

“When he is Lauren. You can’t sleep with him,” she says, looking me directly in the eye. I push my hand through my hair.

“That’s a lot easier said than done,” I admit. I’ve never had a good track record of turning him down.

“Well you can sleep with both of them but it will only create division amongst them and result in neither of them being willing to release control to the other, so if you’re fine with living like that…”

“I get it,” I sigh.

“Now this isn’t going to be something that Cal will particularly like.”

“You think?” He’s going to go bat shit.

“But you have to stand your ground. Cal is stubborn and manipulative but he loves you. That’s your biggest weapon.”

I nod.

“And as far as whatever Lisa has to tell him. We will deal with the aftermath of that once it happens,” she says sullenly.

“Chris's friend Aidan said that what she has to tell him could have been what caused Cal to exist.”

I see her eyebrow raise.

“I’m sure whatever she has to tell him isn’t the original triggering event,” she says skeptically.

“It is possible it is though, right?” I ask her, and for the first time her eyes glance away from me.

“Of course, anything is possible.” And it hits me.

“Do you know what is? What caused this to happen?”

“I can’t discuss that with you Lauren,” she says quietly.

“Are you kidding?”

“These things have to be handled delicately.”

“Then what did you call me for? If you’re not going to help us?”

“I am going to help you, there are just so many things involved with this.”

“And why didn’t you tell Chris when I had Caylen?” I ask, my anger starting to rush to the surface.

“Can you at least tell me that?” I say sternly. She folds her hands together and looks at them before meeting my gaze.

“Because if we told Chris there was a very strong possibility that Cal would resurface and at that point it wasn’t best for anyone.”

“What are you talking about? It wouldn’t have been best for me to have the father of my child with me during my pregnancy?”

“There are things you don’t understand. You don’t know all the factors involved in our decision. Please just trust me.”

“Trust you?” I ask indignantly. Everyone wants me to trust them while they know everything and I know nothing.

“Everyone wants me to trust them, but no one wants to trust me,” I say, leaving the office. I’m proud of myself that I don’t slam the door. I round the corner and swiftly head towards the stairs when I bump into someone else rounding the corner.

“I’m sorry,” I say as the hand grips my arm. I look up and see an older man in maybe his early fifties with dark chestnut brown hair and one silver streak through it. He’s tall and his presence is almost intimidating though he hasn’t said a word.

“It is always my pleasure to bump into a beautiful woman,” he says, his voice smooth, I imagine like an expensive cognac, the kind of man that seems like he could buy your life in a second without thinking twice. He lets go of my arm, a knowing smile spreading across his face and a cold chill makes its way down my back.

“I was just leaving,” I tell him as I try to make my way past him.

“Lauren Brooks…or Scott now isn’t it?” I turn back around and see him standing, or positioned is the better word, his hands crossing each other in front of him.

“Have we met before?” I ask. I see Helen appear, walking towards us swiftly, a nervous smile on her face.

“Mr. Crestfield, I didn’t know that you’d be in town. Dexter didn’t mention anything. Lauren was just leaving.”

“Dexter Crestfield, Sr.,” he says, extending his hand out to me without giving Helen a glance. I glance back at Helen whose eyes are avoiding mine. I cautiously extend my hand to him.

“Would you mind if we have a little chat?”

“Lauren has somewhere to be, Mr. Crestfield,” Helen interrupts.

“I’d only need a few minutes of your time. I think it’s about time I meet the granddaughter I’ve heard so much about,” he says coolly.

Dexter Crestfield Sr., who I remember is my in-law.

*

DEXTER’S OFFICE IS TWICE the size of the one Helen was in. All dark colors and paneling, not much natural light coming in. It feels like the rest of the house, stoic and ridiculously expensive. One thing that seems out of character is that his desk is filled with pictures, some looking like they date back to the early 1900’s. Several are of Dexter Jr. and I notice one that looks like a young version of Mr. Scott and him…and Chris.

“I apologize that it’s taken us so long to meet. I have been out of town on business,” he says as he settles into his desk. He must have been out of town a lot, seeing as I never met him the entire time Cal and I were together. I also don’t know why he’d feel the need to meet me.

“I can understand why Cal took such an interest in you,” he says, his eyes giving me a once over and I feel more uncomfortable than I already am.

“Christopher is my favorite of the two, I must admit. You always know what you’re going to get,” he says bluntly.

“Tell me. What is it like to love someone who are two separate entities?” he asks and I wonder why I am even sitting here with this man.

“I’m sorry Mr. Crestfield but I’d like to know why you asked me here. I know that you are a man whose time is important and I’m sure I’m not here just for you to catch up,” I say, shifting in my seat. He smiles at me and rests his elbows on the desk.

“Christopher is like William. He’s honest, a man that plays by the rules and who has values. Plagued by his conscience,” he chuckles.

“He’s not fond of me. That’s something he gets from his father as well,” he continues, as if I didn’t just say anything to him.

“Cal on the other hand. He’s unpredictable, stubborn, and calculating. As if he was born from my own genes. He fit right in,” he says, picking up a picture of Dexter and surveying it.

“Family is so important. There is absolutely nothing I wouldn’t do to protect my family and the ones I love. Even if it is from themselves.” The Crestfields are like no other people I have met. You never know what to think of them. You can hate and detest them but they have an air that demands respect.

“I wanted to speak with you personally. Since we’ve never had a proper introduction,” he says, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands over one another.

“Thank you, but this really wasn’t necessary,” I say, sweeping a stray hair from my face.

“No, it actually is very necessary. Now that you are aware of our little situation,” he says, letting out a light breath. What situation’s he talking about. Me knowing about Cal’s disorder?

“I think it is important that you understand the resources that you have available to you should you need them.”

“Resources?”

“Your husband. Cal held a very important position with my company and aside from that he is my family and I like to keep things internal, so to speak.” I feel my eyebrows raise. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Dr. Clemons,” he says simply and then it resonates—that was the woman that Christopher saw for treatment.

“She won’t be seeing Christopher as a patient anymore. He’s only to see Helen.”

“Excuse me?”

“It is in the best interest of the family which you are now a part of. I trust you understand the sensitivity of information that not everyone can know.”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t be serious? Chris can see whatever doctor he chooses to. This isn’t a matter of your company, this is his life,” I say, completely taken aback at the audacity of the man in front of me.

“Helen is the best in her field and has the best team. He would be in no better hands,” he says simply.

“You can speak to Christopher yourself but I believe that his choice was made for the very reason you want him to see Helen.” He sighs and stands from his desk.

“I apologize, I don’t think you understand. Let me clarify things a little further. Your penthouse on Michigan, is in one of my buildings. The Scott’s farm and house is on my property. The land your Aunt Raven owns could easily be purchased. Your friend Hillary works at a company that is a subsidiary of…well I’m sure you can infer. Just so that you know. My best interest is in your best interest.”

I feel my throat starting to constrict. A chill crawls down my spine. What the hell did Cal do for this man, why would he be blackmailing me?

“I think we have an understanding?” he reiterates.

“Can I go now?”

“You don’t need my permission,” he laughs condescendingly. I stand up and get to the door as fast as possible.

“Oh, and Lauren.” I stop in my tracks but don’t bother to turn around.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.”

chapter 11

Chris

I’VE NEVER BEEN THE type to play games. I never had the time to. When Cal started to take over I didn’t really have a choice in enjoying life. I didn’t date, I was too busy being in sessions and trying medications. Everything was put on the back burner: going to college, my music, my dreams. The only thing I wanted was to just be normal, to stop losing time. Then, I didn’t know about Cal, that he was living life for me, doing God knows what. When I found out about Cal and met Lauren it was hard knowing that all of these things were happening to me, but it seemed important to know. I was afraid of knowing but each moment that came back to me I felt a little more connected, I understood him a little more, and I hate it, but what I saw last night didn’t make me feel connected or understand him, I feel disgusted.

He had a man kidnapped. I don’t know what the hell he’s been doing or why. Why was he looking for this Clay guy? Did he find him, and what happened if he did? I feel like I have a lot more to be worried about now than how many women he screwed. What exactly was he involved in?

That’s what drove me here, back to Chicago, waiting for Dex to come out of his building. I had to wait two hours but I soon see him emerge in one of his thousand dollar suits, his phone in his hand.

“Dex!” I call out as I jog to catch up with him. He glances back at me, he looks bored, like seeing me isn’t a surprise.

“What brings you to Chicago?”

“We need to talk,” I say adamantly.

“I have a lot to do today Chris. I don’t have time for the soap opera that is the Scotts' lives,” he chuckles but when I grab him by the arm, this time he does look caught off guard.

“Who is Clay Rice?”

His eyes narrow in on me before he tries to snatch his arm away but I don’t let it go. He needs to see that I’m serious, that this isn’t one of those times for going on and on with his metaphorical diatribes.

“This is a Brioni,” he says condescendingly before pulling away from me and rubbing out the print I left on his suit.

“Is there a problem Mr. Crestfield?” Two big men have appeared behind me. Dexter sighs.

“No problem gentleman. Christopher I have some time to kill before my next meeting if you’d like,” he says, gesturing towards the car he gets into. I get in behind him and once the door is shut he immediately grabs a bottle of scotch and begins to pour himself some.

“How do you know about Mr. Rice,” he says, swishing the liquid in his glass.

“I remembered Dex. And I want to know what the hell did you have me doing for you? Did you have me as some type of henchman?”

“Lower your voice,” he says.

“Tell me!” I shout.

“I had nothing to do with you and Clay Rice. That was all you, my friend,” he says.

“Did he…did I hurt someone? Is that what you meant that day you came to my house?” I ask cautiously. Dexter takes a deep breath.

“Don’t let your conscience eat you up yet. You have nothing to be guilty over as of now,” he says, staring at the glass in his hand.

“What do you mean ‘now’? Who was that guy?” He pauses a moment before taking a deep breath.

“Clay Rice was the man that was with your mother when she was killed.” The word sounds foreign to me. My mother, the mother I think of is Gwen Scott with long red hair and a smile that makes your problems go away.

The woman who took care of me for as long as I can remember, who's back home in Madison with my daughter. But after a moment the thought creeps in, one that never creeps in much with me. That though Gwen’s my mother, she’s not my biological parent, and the fact that my name wasn’t always Scott. It was Rice, a fact that should stick with me, but never has. I remember the day when I was ten years old that my parents sat down with me and showed me my birth certificate and asked if I had any questions, if I wanted to talk about my feelings.

I didn’t.

I had no feelings about it. They were all I knew, all that I remembered. No one else was important, the past wasn’t important and just like whatever happened before it, I buried deep down in no man's land.

“Killed. She was murdered?” I ask, my voice a ghost of itself. Every emotion in me seems to be on pause. I’d thought that my heart would speed up, that my breath would catch but I feel nothing.

Numb.

“She was shot,” he says simply.

“By Clay Rice,” I infer, putting the pieces together.

“That’s what Cal believes,” he replies.

“Was he ever convicted? Did he go to jail?”

“There wasn’t enough evidence.”

“So what happened to him?”

“After the charges were dropped he disappeared,” he explains and reaches into his brief case and pulls out a flash drive.

“This is all the information that I have about the case, information about both of your parents.” He is holding it out for me to take. My eyes stare at the little black drive that holds a key to my past, to a world I never knew about, or wanted to know for that matter.

“I don’t want it,” I tell him sternly.

“Do you think it’s wise for you not to have it?” he asks smugly.

“Tell me whatever I need to know.” I’m sure nothing is in there that he wouldn’t want me to know anyway. I don’t trust the Crestfields further than I can throw them.

“Well Christopher,” he says, a little annoyed. “You should know that Cal is pretty set on killing Clay Rice, and he’s coming dangerously close to doing it,”

“What?” I ask, not able to hide my anger or surprise.

“I have done my absolute best at trying to prevent that from happening. However, since Cal has not been working for me, I’m unaware who his contacts are and the fact that he told me to go fuck myself during his last excursion, it will be more difficult than it has in the past to keep him from doing so.”

This is a bad dream. This is all a bad dream. He wants to kill someone. He wants to add murderer to the list with asshole and jerk off?

He can’t do this.

“I can’t let this happen. I won’t let this happen…” I let out a long grunt.

“What is wrong with him? Does he not care about going to jail, or ruining his life?” I ask in disbelief.

“He doesn’t think that he’ll get caught of course, Christopher.”

“Right because he doesn’t think. He just acts!”

“Do you not think that someone who has committed murder deserves to face some means of punishment?” he asks quizzically.

“It’s not my job to punish people. He’s not the judge and the jury. He doesn’t even know if this guy killed her.”

“That’s what he remembers, Chris.” I look up at him, confused.

“Remembers. He remembers?” I ask.

“He remembers quite a lot apparently.”

“I have to stop him. He can’t do this,” I say quietly.

“I need your help,” I say, forcing the words up from my throat, it tastes bitter to even say them aloud.

“With my help comes inconvenience, as you may know.”

“I don’t care about the inconvenience. If he does this, I won’t be able to deal with it. If he’s able to make this happen...” I say honestly.

“I can have someone tail you.”

“Follow me?”

“Just in case.”

“He’s resourceful, I think you need to tell Lauren what’s going on.”

With all that has happened, and all she has worried about, I don’t want to put that type of stress on her. Telling her that he…that I’m intent on killing someone—my biological father. That’s not something she needs to know.

“I’d rather this stay between us. She has enough to deal with.”

“Your choice, my friend.”

“My people are very discreet. It will be like they’re not even there.”

“It has to be. I don’t want her to think we’re being followed. I want things to be as normal as possible.”

“Thank you Dexter,” I tell him, before reaching for the door.

“There may be another way, where you don’t have to live like this,” he says casually.

“Like what other type of way?”

“It would come with some risks…”

Cal

APRIL 16, 2011

SAME DREAM, ALMOST EVERY night. One of the only ones I wish I could get away from. I used to wake up in a cold sweat, my heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through me, now I’ve grown immune to it. Or at least that’s what I tried to convince myself. Trying to convince myself that it doesn’t affect me. That it isn’t as terrifying as it used to be. The woman in my head I can’t forget. Her creamy white skin contrasting against the pool of red blood surrounding her, soaking her clothes and mine. The little boy in the dream crying for hours before someone found him. My own cries won’t leave my head while panic tried to suffocate me.

Now it’s different. I look over at the woman next to me that’s made my dream feel worse. Before her I never wanted kids, I never wanted a family, to be so close to someone that their loss could be worse than this dream I have every night. A love interferes with my only cure. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to love anyone but myself. The only feeling I ever wanted was revenge. Revenge and pleasure—nothing more, nothing less, both became one and the same to me. An obsession that became an addiction. But this, her arms wrapped around me, her breath on my skin, it feel almost like peace, and peace and vengeance don’t work well together. Having one sacrifices the other.

She graduates soon. She’ll be done with school, going into another chapter in her life and I feel like the chapter's about to be closed on me. She’s not sure what she wants to do after school, she talks about getting a job. She’s hated every place she’s interviewed for, about to jump into the cycle I loathe. Work for pennies, buy a house you really never liked and grow old and miserable as each year passes. She should travel, see the world and draw it on that sketch pad of hers. I want her to see the places I was able to see once I broke free. Paris, Rome, the Alps. I’ve been around the world and back. She deserves the same, she deserves everything she wants. The problem is she wants me, but she doesn’t really know what having me comes with, and the problem is I want her more than anything. That’s what drove me to the jeweler Dexter uses, what caused me to sell my bike to get her one of the most expensive rings in the store, but what's stopping me at the same time is that I love her, and I know her. I know that she wants marriage, but not the kind that I can give her. She wants children, she wants someone that she can grow old with. A normal guy, and that’s just not me.

Then why do you have the ring?

“Good morning,” she says groggily, running her hand through my hair, her eyes barely open.

“You still have two hours to sleep,” I tell her, glancing at the clock.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, cupping my face.

“Nothing,” I tell her playfully before rolling on top of her. She laughs.

“It looks like your mind is somewhere else,” she says, her face scrunched up looking at me.

“Just thinking about how I want to take you to Europe,” I tell her and she rolls her eyes playfully.

“Yeah right,” she says disbelievingly. Then I tilt my head and look into those hypnotizing eyes and they widen.

“Are you serious?” she asks, her excitement growing by the second.

“Your graduation present,” I tell her and she pushes me off her.

“I-I can’t go to Europe with you,” she says, and I have to hide how much her words sting. They’re stern and like a kick in the nuts. I try to think of something to say to brush it off.

“You’d rather have fun here hanging out at Navy Pier?” I joke, nudging her in the side. She sighs and looks back at me, her eyes big and sad.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is all real,” she says quietly.

“What do you mean?” I ask, getting up and sitting next to her.

“I know I’ve told you this before but, you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.”

“I’m one of a kind,” I wink at her and a small smile spreads across her face.

“You are, and that’s what’s so scary about this. What do I do after you, how do I get over Cal Scott?” she says, looking me right in the eye and a wave of sadness passes through me. Get over me. What is she talking about? Is she breaking up with me? Am I being fucking dumped?

“What are you talking about Lauren?” I feel my voice becoming tense. I feel anger starting to course through every part of my body. She gets out of bed and starts putting on her clothing, which is littered across the floor.

This could be your easy break. If you love her you’d let her go.

“We’re in two different worlds Cal. I live in the real world and you live in the perfect world…for you,” she says looking away from me.

“I feel like my stay’s only temporary. Things are so great and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For when you’ll wake up and realize that you’re suffocated or this isn’t what you want. That I’m not what you want,” she says and I hear her voice choke up. I get off the bed and on my knees and pull her towards me.

“Hey. You’re the greatest thing that has ever happened to me,” I tell her, her eyes still downcast.

“I’m not the prize. You are,” I tell her, cupping her face in my hands. I hate that there’s tears in her eyes. The first time I've ever seen her cry, but I think of all the tears she’ll shed if I don’t let her go.

What am I doing?

“I graduate next week, Cal. I’m going to get a real job and really be an adult. I have to start figuring things out.”

I feel myself getting mad, disappointment taking over and I can’t let it boil over. I stand up and walk to the other side of the room. I can’t let her see it.

This could be for the best. She deserves more than this.

“There are things I want but I don’t know if we both want,” she says sullenly.

This is your chance. If you love her you’ll let her go. Take the ring back to the store and set her free.

“I don’t know if what I want is going to be good enough, or exciting enough for you.”

She wants normal and you sure as hell can’t give her that.

“What do you want Cal?” she asks.

“To be happy,” I say with a chuckle.

“Me too,” she says quietly. She grabs her little overnight bag she brings whenever she comes. I’m tired of her bringing that stupid bag. It reminds me that she’s only here temporarily. She walks past me and heads to the bathroom. I head out of the room and go downstairs. In the kitchen I pull out my pill vial from behind the cups in the cabinet and look at the little blue pills in them. Helen’s voice echoes in my head.

There’s no guarantee that this will work, Cal.

This isn’t even considered trial stage yet.

There are a lot of risks for you to consider.

“Sometimes the reward is worth the risk,” I tell myself before popping my second one for the day in my mouth and washing it down with warm water.

A half hour later she’s down stairs, fully dressed with her bag on her shoulder.

“I’m going to get out of here,” she says, grabbing all her hair and putting it at the top of her head. I get off the couch and walk in front of her. Her eyes avoid mine. I put my hands on her waist and pull her towards me.

“You’re coming to Europe with me,” I tell her simply and she rolls her eyes.

“How many times do we have to talk about you asking and not telling,” she says, a small smirk on her lips. She says she wants me to ask her whenever I do something, but I know she likes it when I tell her what to do.

“This is an exception, you told me no so now I’m telling you that you’re coming with me to Europe, because you work hard and deserve it and I want to have you on every beach I step foot on,” I whisper in her ear. She giggles and then sighs.

“No, no, no no,” she says, stepping away from me.

“You’re not going to convince me like that,” she says playfully.

“Then I’ll convince you another way,” I tell her, picking her up and pulling her on top of my lap on the couch.

“You’re hot,” she says in between pants.

“I’m always in heat,” I tell her with a wink.

“No your skin is really hot,” she says, her voice rising in panic. I put her down and she puts her hand on my head.

“Do you have a thermometer? You feel really warm,” she says worriedly.

“No I’m fine,” I wave her off. I don’t feel hot, but when I put my hand on my head I do feel hot, I think.

“I’m good Lauren, you need to be heading to your class right?” I remind her.

“It can wait. I’ll go the store and get you a thermometer,” she says, simultaneously grabbing a bottle of water out the fridge.

“Don’t do that. I can go, you think about what we were about to negotiate,” I tell her and she frowns, thrusting the water at me.

“If I drink this and promise to go get a thermometer will you go to class?”

“What if something’s wrong and I leave you and you die while I’m in school,” she says dramatically.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” I tell her squeezing her on the butt before pulling her towards the door. She stands there in protest.

“I’m going to go throw on some clothes and I’ll head to the drug store and if I even feel a little bit abnormal, I’ll call you on the way to the ER, okay?” I tell her and she looks a little bit appeased.

“You promise. Because if you don’t I’m headed back here,” she warns me.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” I tell her coaxing a little smile from her.

“Don’t say that,” she pouts and I kiss her, and she pulls away looking at me worriedly.

“If you stay any longer the clothes are coming off, since it’s hot and all,” I tease her reaching for the button on her pants, and she swats me away.

“Okay. Don’t forget,” she says heading out the door.

“See you gorgeous,” I tell her as I watch her walk down the hall to the elevator and don’t close the door until she’s inside. As soon as she is I grab my cellphone off the kitchen counter and dial Helen’s number.

“You didn’t mention one of the side effects being overheating!”

chapter 12

Lauren

IT’S BEEN ALMOST A day since I’ve seen him. Really seen him. Both of us are avoiding one another I think. So much has happened in just the past few days. Things have changed so much. Things were never simple between Chris and me, never really easy either. But now it’s like the tension between us, and the awkwardness, has multiplied. We at least had easy moments, sweet moments and one intense one, which he doesn’t remember and it’s best for me not even to think about. So many things weighing on my mind, it’s been hard to sleep, hard for me to think. This whole thing with Lisa and then Mr. Crestfield threatening or blackmailing me, I’m not sure which, or who can I talk to about it? I can’t talk to anyone about it and the one person I feel like may be able to help me is Cal and, well, there isn’t even a point in thinking what a conundrum that is.

How did things get so messed? Why are things so terrible? Why can’t they just get better for once?

“Hey,” his voice knocks me out of a trance. I’m not even sure if it’s real or imagined until he steps inside my room and shuts the door behind him. The sick part in all of this, despite all the worry, stress and uncertainty he brings the sight of him and the sound of his voice sends shivers down my spine. I feel myself flush, my hormones obviously not getting the memo that there will be no relief in any of those ways. In fact I’ve been forbidden to, like a child.

“Caylen’s sleeping,” I say absentmindedly.

“Yeah, I see her,” he sort of chuckles. Of course he does, he’s not blind.

“I wanted us to talk,” he says, sitting on the far side of the bed. I nod, pushing out the thoughts of the last time we were both on a bed together.

“Things have been weird since Cal came back,” he says apprehensively.

“Yeah they have,” I admit with a chuckle.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” he says quietly.

It seems exactly like that.

“I wouldn’t blame you so much if you have,” I tell him, because in all honesty I’ve been avoiding him too. I’m still trying to wrap my head around all the information I’ve gotten today, creating more questions and hardly any answers.

“I put in for leave at work today.”

I want to tell him he shouldn’t have, that he loves his job and should keep it, but I’m sure with all that has happened he has good reasons.

“I’m sorry. I know you liked your job.”

“They said I can come back whenever I’m ready,” he says, giving me a small smile.

“I’m thinking of trying to get back into my music,” he says and a more genuine one spreads across his face, his eyes practically light up.

“That’s great! You should. You’re really good Chris,” I say, sharing his enthusiasm.

“I’m okay,” he shrugs.

“You’re a little better than okay. You can sing a girl right out of her clothes.” The words come right out of my mouth before I can stop them. I expect awkwardness to float in the air but it doesn’t, he just smiles wider and laughs and I do too.

“Maybe a shirt, not sure about the whole outfit,” he jokes and I’m so thankful. Thankful for at least right now things have gone back to how they were before everything changed. Well, that’s relative since everything is constantly changing with us, a freakin' swinging pendulum.

“I’m sorry about Jenna yesterday,” he blurts out and it’s funny, so much has happened that Jenna’s little outburst is the least of all things that have been on my mind. Then I’m reminded that I’m not sure what their status is. Before everything happened I knew things were rocky and after we slept together I was sure things would be ending but since Chris has no recollection of that happening…my headache is getting worse now.

“Cal was an ass to her. I can’t play naive, her actions weren’t exactly unwarranted,” I say with a shrug and he nods, silence creeps in between us.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember what happened between us,” he says sincerely, his eyes soft and expression apologetic in the way only Chris can be.

“And…I was immature about how I responded to you telling me about you and Cal,” he continues, his eyes on his hands.

“I understand…sort of,” I add with a laugh and he looks up at me with a smile.

“..And when I said or implied that it was probably Cal that pretended to be me to sleep with you…I was full of it,” he says, folding his arms.

“For one I thing I think Cal is too full of himself to even consider pretending to be me,” and I can’t help but laugh.

“And…the way I was feeling before the blackout happened, I’m not entirely surprised that what happened, happened,” he says, letting out a long sigh and with it I can’t help but feel a small smile spread across my face, it takes everything in me to keep it small.

“I want you to know that I ended things with Jenna before we left for Chicago.”

Butterflies are starting to flutter in my stomach.

“It wasn’t fair to be with her and lead her on with the feelings I started to have for you,” he continues and my breathing starts to slow down. He stands, rising from the bed and walks over in front of me.

“I want to remember this,” he says and just like that his lips are on mine. His hands slide across my back and he pulls me into his arms. He’s so warm, his kiss is tender but firm and all the stress and worry that was sitting on my chest has started to melt away. Just being close to him, his body against mine, my lips can’t help but to kiss him back, it’s what they know to do. I feel high, like he’s a forbidden drug, and it feels so good, he feels so good, he smells so good. I stop and wonder if I’m dreaming. I really don’t want to know if I’m dreaming or not because if I am dreaming it means I’m not doing anything wrong. There is no guilt to be associated with this, as his hands slide underneath my shirt, and I have no reason to feel bad as my hands slide underneath his shirt and feel the skin that I want against mine.

I just want a little relief, is that so wrong? Will it be so damaging? Each soft kiss he plants on my neck, makes the past few hours seem so distant and as the shirt I have on goes over my head, the problems we’re facing are being thrown over the bridge, and it feels good.

Really good, but this feels familiar. All too familiar, his lips have trailed down my stomach, and there’s the feeling of being swept away, the rush of everything I’m reminded of, the intensity between us, the things this man can do to my body, how this feeling kept me and Cal tied together when everything was pulling apart. This feeling covered up secrets, and lies…this pattern is starting itself again.

“Chris,” I moan. It shouldn’t be a moan, it should be a stern exclamation.

“This, we shouldn’t,” I say in between pants.

“You’re right. Caylen’s in here,” he says as we both clamor for air. In a few swift moments we’re out the door and he’s pulling me up the stairs. It’s so hectic, I was supposed to be protesting this, stopping what’s about to happen but I haven’t. We make it to his room without bumping into either of the Scotts, but my adrenaline is so high I probably wouldn’t have cared. When the door shuts behind us I’m back to reality, the contrast of this space from the contrast of where Cal and I last made love, the fact that if I sleep with Chris, Cal will be hurt, if I don’t sleep with Chris he’s going be hurt and I lose out either way. Helen’s words echo in my brain about not being the one to divide them instead striving to unite them. How do I do that? I can feel him behind me, his energy so different from Cal's.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. I nod as his hands rest on my waist. I can do this. It’s only once technically, he doesn’t remember and it should be fine.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispers in my ear and I immediately step away from him.

“What did you say?”

“”I asked what you want. Anything and I’ll give it to you,” he says, bringing my hands to his chest.

“I love you. I didn’t know it then but the moment I saw you I loved you and I didn’t know what it was because I’d never felt that way about anyone before and getting to know you I know why he fell in love with you, because I’m in love with you too,” he says and the resistance I planned on applying to his chest to push myself away from him is gone, instead I kiss him with all I have in me.

Chris

IT’S STILL ME.

I'd be lying if I didn't say a small, well a pretty big part, thought that after I slept with Lauren I’d wake up days later, but as I open my eyes and the sun is shining down on us and she’s lying next to me, I feel like the happiest man alive. She’s so beautiful, so amazing. I didn’t expect what happened to happen when I went in her room last night. I intended on telling her what happened earlier that day with Dexter, not all of it but at least some. I didn’t want any more secrets between us, but when I saw her it all changed. With her it’s different, I can’t pretend or hide my feelings, they take over and I’m not so sure it’s a bad thing. Something that feels this good can’t be bad. Last night was greater than I ever imagined it being. She’s perfect, every inch of her. I wouldn’t change one thing about her. Having her next to me, in my arms makes all of this seem not so bad, everything that’s hanging in the air over us not so bad when she’s with me. We can do this. Together.

Do what? Get rid of Cal because she’s definitely not going to help you do that.

She could, it’s not as ridiculous as it sounds. I just have to show her that I’m the better man, it should be obvious. I’d be the better father for Caylen, not him. He’s a future murderer heading for prison. Having him gone is what’s best for everyone. Except she doesn’t know about his plans, or what he’s done. If I can remember what he’s done, but then he is me. I’ve been trying to think of that more and more, trying not to see us as two different people, he’s a side of me. I have to tell her, but what is telling her going to do other than worry her? She has enough to be worried about. Why am I even thinking about this right now?

I’ve got to learn to live in the moment. I have a girl who I’m crazy about lying right next to me, in my arms, she’s beautiful, smart, funny and already my wife. This makes things easier, no more worrying about how to make my family work, it’s all fixed. Things are going to be okay. God this feels good, having her here, right next to me. I kiss the back of her neck and she starts to stir.

“Good morning,” I tell her. She turns to face me and she looks at me as if she’s observing me and touches my face.

“It’s me, Chris,” I say jokingly and for a slight moment I panic, what if she doesn’t want it to be me? What if she’s disappointed?

“Good morning, Chris,” she says a wide smile spreading across her face.

“What time is it?” she asks quietly. I glance at the clock on my desk.

“It’s a little after five,” I tell her.

“Your parents are going to be up soon. I should get back down stairs," she says, sitting up in the bed.

“Stay. Just a little longer,” I say, surprising myself. I know my parents bumping into Lauren coming from my room isn’t the best way to announce we’re together but, right now I don’t care. This, it feels right. She cups my face and leans over and kisses me, it’s light, and soft but intense. I don’t want it to end. I slide my hand across her back and pull her onto me.

“If we do this we’re going to caught,” she laughs as I bury my face in her neck, trailing kisses around her shoulder. She lets out a soft whimper, and I have to have her. I’ve never wanted a woman so bad in my life.

“Just a little while,” I promise her. What have I been missing?

“Just a little while?” she mumbles, our lips pressed against one another.

“Chris I need…” my skin practically jumps out of itself. By the time I turn around the door is closing.

“Oh my God, was that your dad?” Lauren says, covering her face.

“Pretty sure it was,” I groan, getting out of the bed.

“Great,” she says, hiding under the covers.

“This is going to be a great way to start the morning,” she laughs, peeking at me from under the covers, her hazel eyes reflecting in the light. It makes the awkward and uncomfortable conversation I’m about to have with my parents worth it.

“I’ll go down and handle it,” I tell her, searching for my clothes.

“No I can’t let you do that alone,” she protests, getting out of the bed and searching for her things. She’s completely naked and it stops me in my tracks. Last night I didn’t take time to really see her, and it was dark but right here in the morning light she looks amazing. She catches me staring at her and looks at me bashfully.

“We better hurry, I know they’re waiting on us,” she says, pulling her shirt over her head.

“You’re beautiful,” I can’t help but tell her and she laughs.

“Thank you,” she says bashfully.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she says with a wink and heads to the door. Before she opens it I take her hand.

“Are you sure you want to do this with me? I have no idea what might be said down there,” I warn her. She lets out a deep breath.

“We’re in this together,” she says, taking my other hand and I can’t help but kiss her again.

“I mean how bad can it be? We’re adults, we have a child and we’re married. I-it’s going to be fine.”

*

WHEN WE MAKE IT down stairs my mom is at the stove frying sausage and my dad is at the table, his arms folded. They both look up as we enter. My mom with a grin on her face my dad with the biggest scowl I’ve ever seen.

“Good morning you two,” my mom greets us.

“Morning mom,” I say, glancing over at Lauren who's smiling nervously.

“Are you two ready for breakfast?”

“Yes,” Lauren says quickly.

“Come on, you both sit down,” my mom says cheerfully. I wonder if my dad told her. I can’t tell. I know she’s happy for us to be home and everything is relatively normal again but if she knew she definitely wouldn’t take it how my dad is taking it. Like a spoiled kid.

“Is Caylen awake?” Lauren asks before sitting down.

“You’d know that if you were down here with her,” my dad mumbles.

“William,” my mom scolds him.

“Wow,” Lauren sighs in disbelief.

“Well I guess we better just get this out the way. Mom, Lauren and I had sex last night,” I blurt out, almost surprising myself. My mom’s mouth drops open a little. Lauren looks down at her plate but I can see a small smirk on her face.

“I gathered that,” my dad spouts.

“And there should be nothing wrong with it. We have a daughter, we’re together and we’re married,” I continue.

“There isn’t a problem with it at all,” my mom adds quickly.

“Really, Gwen. You don’t see an issue with this?” my dad says sardonically.

“No, I do not William. Have you ended things with Jenna, Chris?” she asks.

“Yes I have mom,” I add quickly.

“Well, what is the problem William?” she asks simply.

“I’ll tell you all what the problem is. The problem is the large elephant in the room,” he says and I let out a deep breath.

“Lauren, would you care to enlighten them on the conversation that we had about the exact problem?”

“Your dad thinks I’m a trigger for Cal,” she says quietly.

“That’s ridiculous,” I say defensively.

“Oh is it son? Because not less than a month since she’s been here all of a sudden he reemerges?” he asks sarcastically.

“You don’t know if that’s true!”

“Well I do know that any relationship that causes that man to come to surface shouldn’t exist, period,” he says stubbornly.

“William, stop it,” my mom says.

“And any person that is okay or even welcomes Cal reemerging whenever he feels like it isn’t welcome in my home,” he says, staring directly at Lauren.

“Are you kidding?” I ask him in disbelief.

“No, he’s not kidding Chris,” Lauren adds, getting up from the table.

“Lauren please. Let's just wait a minute,” my mom interrupts.

“No, Mrs. Scott. It has been blatantly obvious that he hasn’t wanted me here. I appreciate him being so forthcoming this morning.”

“This isn’t just William's house, this is my house too Lauren,” my mom says quickly.

“Why do you hate him so much?” Lauren asks, staring directly at my father.

“We’ve been over this before. The same reasons you should hate him, and just to make it clear, I am not the only person in this room who wishes Cal Scott never existed,” he spits.

“Son, I am just going to say this because I love you. You’re not who she wants you’re the consolation prize, the compromise. You said it yourself that she loves Cal, everyday she’s going to wish you were him!”

It feels like someone has squeezed my insides when those words leave his mouth but before I have a chance to react Lauren has slapped my dad right across the face.

“How dare you! How dare you put your son against…against himself! Chris has a condition, this is a sickness but you’ve brainwashed him into believing that he’s two different people. The belief that Cal isn’t a part of him is doing more damage than anything I ever could,” she says then turns to my mom.

“I love your son. Every part of him. Being with him on a good day, a bad day, when he calls himself whoever is okay with me!”

“I think you understand that,” she says, looking at my mom hopefully, and she returns her a small smile. Then she looks at me.

“I hope that you and Cal can understand that one day,” she says to me with a sigh.

“I think it is time for me to leave,” Lauren says with a forced smile, rising from the table.

“Impulsive, violent, rash. Who does that remind you off?” my dad says smugly.

“You deserved that. How could you speak to your son that way?” my mom scolds him.

“I don’t know what the problem is. But you’re letting this turn you into someone I don’t like very much. Grow up William,” she says before standing from the table and following Lauren. For a moment my dad looks like he’s just realized what a jackass he’s been.

“If she leaves, I’m going with her. Wherever she goes,” I tell him, getting up from the table.

“Chris. I don’t want to hurt you but what I said is the truth. We both know it. You deserve better than that,” he says, genuinely. I walk closer to him and lean down in his face so that he understands that I mean every word that I’m about to say.

“I suggest you get on the good side of my wife and the mother of your grandchild. I’d really like my daughter to know the man I grew up with and loved. Until he comes back, stay away.”

Lauren

“I AM SO SORRY for William’s behavior honey. He’s just afraid,” Mrs. Scott explains, holding Caylen while I frantically gather our things together. Our welcome has officially been worn out. Well, mine at least, I’m pretty sure that Caylen is welcome to stay as long as she likes.

“I’m sorry for that out there. I shouldn’t have hit him,” I say apologetically. Am I sorry for hitting William? No. I am sorry for disrespecting Gwen’s house.

“He deserved it,” she says with a sigh.

“He shouldn’t have said those things to you or Chris,” she says, sitting down on the bed.

“I –I just wish that he didn’t have so much malice in his heart for Cal,” she adds sullenly.

“Me too,” I add, taking a moment from tossing the clothes into my suitcase and sitting beside her.

“Do you hate Cal, Mrs. Scott?” I ask her genuinely. She’s so sweet she could very well hate him and just do a very good job at hiding it.

“Oh honey, no,” she says with a laugh. “To be quite honest with you, I don’t see them as being different at all.”

“I differentiated the two because it was easier for William to see Cal as the ‘bad part’ of Chris. I’ve never seen him that way,” she says, giving me a squeeze on the leg.

“The first time we officially met Cal as an adult, when I saw him, and he spoke to us, I didn’t see him as this other person. I saw my son, whatever he chooses to call himself. As a parent you don’t stop loving your children when they don’t follow the plan you have for them, or go a little off course,” she explains then sighs.

“Well you shouldn’t,” she adds.

“I hope I can be half the mom to Caylen you are to Chris, Mrs. Scott,” I tell her honestly. She pulls me into a hug with Caylen sandwiched between us, so we release quickly, but thinking back to the first day I arrived with Caylen in her kitchen wondering what it would be like to hug her, it’s everything I thought it would be. For a moment it seems like everything is going to be okay.

Like the world isn’t torn in two, like my husband isn’t.

“Everything will be okay sweetie,” she says, squeezing my hand.

“I really wish you’d consider staying,” she says pleadingly.

“I think it’s time,” I say with a tight smile.

“I guess it is,” she says with a sigh.

“It is,” Chris says, standing in the doorway. My heart jumps when I see him.

“I’ll give you guys a minute,” she says, standing with Caylen.

“I’m going to enjoy every second I can with her before you leave,” she says to me as she carries her out.

“I’m going to work on your father Chris. He’s stubborn but he loves you so much.” Chris nods and gives both her and Caylen a kiss before they leave the room and she shuts the door behind her.

“My mom really likes you,” he says before sitting on the bed next to me.

“She’s been nothing but kind to me since I’ve arrived and is the best Grandmother Caylen could ever ask for,” I tell him.

“So did that go as good as you hoped it would?” I ask with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“Much better,” he jokes and we sit quietly, tension starting to swirl around the room.

“About what your dad said,” I start and he takes my hand.

“I get it. I do, and how you feel about Cal. I’m trying to…I can get past that,” he says.

“I know how much you love him and I know it will take more time than it has for you to love me like that, but I’ll wait. As long as it takes,” he says, looking into my eyes and holding my hand. I should be thrilled about his declaration, it’s selfless and so Chris like but that’s not what I want. I need them to see past this as some type of contest or tug of war. They are the same.

“Chris. I already love you like that. This is a disorder, that makes you feel different but you are one and the same. Don’t think of it as me wanting one side of you more than the other. I want all of you,” I tell him and he looks disappointed and lets go of my hand. My stomach drops. Maybe it was too soon, but when is soon going to be soon enough. Especially after everything Helen told me. I did the exact opposite of what I was supposed to do. I’m not going to coddle them anymore, he is one man, one man that I love and they need to understand that not me. When I woke up next to Chris this morning guilt tried to trickle in. It tried to steal the joy of the moment from me, but when I really think about it—why should I not feel good about sleeping with my husband? He’s my husband officially, the Jenna thing is completely done with. There is no way I’m going to alienate him and push him back to her. It felt right…well it did feel a little wrong too…but it mostly felt right. I need him to know that it’s right, whenever we do it.

“I’ve been trying to make an appointment with my doctor,” he says, putting his head in his hands. I feel a sting of guilt lance through me. The conversation with Dexter Sr. comes up in my mind.

“Her secretary called and left me a message saying she’d be out of the office all month. Then when I called back to make an appointment her secretary said she wasn’t out of the office, but when I told her my name she said she didn’t have openings for the next six months,” he says, frustrated. Oh my God, Dexter Sr. has had Chris blacklisted. Isn’t that against some type of medical ethics?

“I really want to try to grasp this. It’s just really hard,” he groans.

“I know,” I say, interlacing my hand with his.

“But I’m here. We’re in this together,” I say, giving him a little smile.

“I’m thinking about just seeing Helen again. When we go back to Chicago.”

When he says it my heart skips a beat.

“You’re coming with me?” I ask him. I mean it makes sense but I don’t know if he’s really ready.

“Why wouldn’t I? We’re in this together right?” he says giving me a smile that makes me hug him. Maybe all of this won’t be so bad. Maybe everything will be okay. After everything that’s happened we deserve a break. Maybe for now we’ll get one.

chapter 13

NOVEMBER 7, 2010

IT CAN’T BE HER. It can’t fucking be her! But as soon as I make it downstairs and turn the corner, there she is standing at the desk. When she sees me her eyes light up, but just for a minute, before worry starts to show across her face.

“I’ll handle it from here, Lamar,” I tell the concierge at the desk. I put my hand around her back and usher her towards the front doors.

“What are you doing here?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“I came to speak to your soon to be wife,” she says simply. As soon as we’re out the door the time for playing nice is over.

“How could you do this, Cal? How could you do something as major as this? Does that poor girl know about your disorder? How could you marry someone and not even tell us?” she says, her voice breaking. For a moment I feel a slight tinge of guilt.

“How dare you come here? The night of my engagement party, and tell her what? The man you’re marrying isn’t fucking real!”

“I was going to tell her the truth.”

“Your version of the truth. It’s always the version that you and William think up isn’t it?” I ask her.

“Cal, you cannot do this. Do you understand what you’re doing?” she says, her tone pleading.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I tell her.

“No you don’t. I don’t know how you’ve pulled this off so far, but what are you going to do when you marry her and she wakes up in bed with Chris?” she exclaims.

“That is never going to happen!”

“You don’t know that. She deserves to know,” she pleads.

“You just don’t want me to be happy.”

“That’s not true,” she shakes her head in denial.

“Of course it’s true. You don’t give a shit about me. All you want is Christopher back.”

“That’s not true, Cal! I love both of you,” she interjects.

“He’s not coming back, Gwen! I’m on medication that will get rid of him completely!”

“W-what are you talking about? You’re taking drugs? What are you taking, Cal? Are they safe?”

“It doesn’t matter, but you and Will can get it through your heads that your mild mannered little farm boy is never coming back.”

“What medication, there isn’t any medication as a cure, Cal. Integration is the only way… are you taking something illegal?” she says, frantically grabbing my arm.

“It’s not your concern,” I tell her, simply snatching away.

“It is my concern. You’re my son and I love you!” she says and for a moment I almost believe her, but she doesn’t care about me, only the person that I keep at bay.

“Cal, please!” she says, grabbing my arm again as I turn away from her.

“How can you love her when you shut love out? How can you know what love is?!” she asks, looking directly in my eyes.

“She’s love! I love her more than anything. If you screw this up for me, I’ll disappear and you’ll never see Chris again,” I say before snatching away from her. I turn around and see Lauren heading my way.

Fuck!

“Leave. Now,” I tell Gwen before heading back to the building. Before I can enter Lauren’s come outside and we meet right at the door. My heart is about to blow the fuck up. She looks down the street right at Gwen, who thankfully is walking in the opposite direction.

“What was that about? Who was she?” she asks, eyeing me suspiciously. I shrug, trying to be as casual as possible. If she only knew how fast my heart was going, my palms are sweaty, I have to calm down.

“Nothing,” I tell her, walking back through the entrance of our building and waiting for her to come in. I hate lying to her, I try to never do it, this isn’t exactly a lie but it makes me feel like shit. She looks back at me and then back in Gwen’s direction and my throat is about to close up. Gwen’s stopped walking.

Shit! What the fuck am I going to do?

I glance at Gwen and her eyes connect with mine. The only thing I can do is shake my head.

Fuck it.

I mouth please to her. I’ve never asked anyone for much. I regret little, but right now I wish I could go back in time and get on my fucking knees and beg Gwen not to say anything. She nods slightly, it’s subtle and even Lauren won’t notice it but it’s enough to make my heart stop slamming into my chest.

“Are you coming?” I ask Lauren impatiently. She looks over at me but she doesn’t move and glances back in Gwen’s direction but she’s gone by that time. Her eyes narrow in on mine. She’s pissed. I can deal with pissed, after what I could be dealing with, pissed is welcome.

“Nothing,” she says bitterly as she walks past me into the lobby.

“I took care of it; she didn’t want anything important,” I say casually, my heart rate returning to normal. I sit down in one of the big chairs in the lobby. I’ve never needed to sit down as much as I have today.

“Well, what happened? What did she want with me?” she asks anxiously.

I’m going to have to tell another fucking lie.

“She really wasn’t making any sense. She seemed hopped up on something. I told her to leave.” I pull out my cellphone so I don’t have to look at her. I can’t look her right in the eye and lie to her.

“Well maybe you should have let me talk to her,” she says, nudging me. She does it again until I look directly at her. Her hazels won’t let go of mine. I don’t want to lie to her again, but I can’t lose her. If I told her now I’d lose her.

“Look. She wasn’t making any sense. She probably pulled your name off an article of some event we’ve been to with Dexter. You have to be careful about just anyone trying to see you. When you’re associated with the Crestfields, people see dollar signs and will sell you any sob story thinking you can write them a check. Most people have some type of agenda and I’m sure she did but she won’t be back. You can’t just trust anybody now, okay?” I feel like shit. A crock of bullshit, but it sounds like it makes sense, but she knows me and she’s not buying it. I grab her hand and she sighs and nods just a little bit. She wants to believe me, but she’s not stupid.

“Okay,” she says simply, but it’s forced and hesitant and she pulls her hand from mine and folds them in her lap. She’s thinking, she knows this doesn’t add up.

“Mr. Scott, your car is here,” one of the car attendants informs us.

“Thanks,” I tell him, standing. I wait for Lauren to do the same, and she doesn’t.

“You’re coming right?” I say jokingly but in all honesty I don’t know if she’s coming. She glares at me and rolls her eyes before following the attendant.

This is going to be a long fucking night.

*

ENGAGEMENT PARTY CHECKLIST:

Ridiculously large banquet hall, check.

Overly expensive food, check.

Hundreds of people you don’t give a shit about telling you congratulations, check.

Pissed off and annoyed fiancé, check and check.

She knows something is up. She wouldn’t talk to me in the car, she keeps moving when I try to touch her and it’s killing me. My gratefulness to Gwen has expired. Why the fuck would she come here? How dare she show up at my house, threatening to tell my future wife about my past? It’s the past, our future doesn’t include them, nothing before her matters.

Fucking Dexter had to have told her I was engaged, and to show up the day of my engagement party? If Gwen had talked to Lauren, everything would be ruined. My life would be ruined. She’s never looked at me how she is now. With…distrust, like she she’s seeing me as another person. I don’t want her to look at me like, like I’m the villain, she’s never done that before.

Since the incident she’s been distant and quiet the entire ride over. The first time I’ve ever had to flat out tell her a lie.

We both plastered smiles on our faces as we greet a bunch of people we don’t even fucking know. This was all Helen and Dexter’s idea. We shouldn’t even be here, but Lauren lit up at the idea of a big engagement party. Dex didn’t spare any expense, taking the title of best man and running with it. I can’t wait until I get to talk to him about his little game. Sending her the day of my engagement party.

“A toast, to an invaluable part of Crestfield Industries, my friend who I consider my family. Cal Scott and his beautiful future wife Lauren.” Everyone raises their glasses and toasts to us. She looks over at me and we kiss, but it’s different. There’s always been something behind it, pushing its way out of both of us, but right now it seems like she’s pulling instead of pushing. The applause roars throughout the room as glasses clink and pictures are taken. I don’t give a shit about any of it if Lauren isn’t feeling this. I lean over and whisper in her ear.

“Love you, babe.” She smiles at me but it’s weak.

“I love you too.” It’s dry and half-hearted.

Before I can call her on it, Lauren’s Aunt Raven and her best friends are near us.

“You look so beautiful, honey,” her aunt says.

“Cal, extremely dashing as always,” her aunt adds, squeezing my shoulder. I wink at her and she blushes. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear this lady had a crush on me.

“How much did they drop on this? I feel like if I drop a plate I’d be out of a car,” Angela teases.

“What’s wrong, L?” Hillary asks, eyeing me suspiciously. Hillary and I didn’t get off on the right foot but I like her now. She really loves Lauren and is protective of her, I can’t fault her for that even if she acts like a whore.

“Nothing, everything’s fine,” she replies meekly. Everything isn’t fine and I know exactly who to blame.

“I’m going to go talk to Dex,” I say, excusing myself and heading over to Dexter and Helen. I didn’t get a chance to really talk to him since Lauren and I arrived almost thirty minutes into the dinner.

“Excuse me,” Dex says to a flock of buzzards who are only here for a stab at his wallet. I throw my arm over his shoulder as a friendly gesture when I want to pull him into a choke hold.

“Talk to Gwen lately?” I ask, once we’re out far enough away from the crowd.

“I did,” he says simply.

“What’d you tell her?” I ask, smiling tightly.

“I may have mentioned that I was attending your engagement dinner today."

“What the fuck is your problem?" I say, crossing my arms to keep from punching him in the face.

“I didn’t know your engagement was confidential,” he retorts smugly.

“She could have told Lauren everything Dex, and she thinks something is up. She’s distant at our fucking engagement party.”

“Well it’s about time,” he adds with a grin. I scowl at him.

“Tell her the truth,” he says, looking me squarely in the eye, “I don’t want this blowing up in our faces later.”

“Nothing’s going to blow up if you let me handle it. Helen and I are handling it, stop running your fucking mouth,” I warn him.

“I think you need to realize who you’re talking to Cal,” he says adjusting his cufflinks.

“The great Dexter Crestfield. I don’t give a shit. You’re supposed to be my friend, you’re not my mentor or my daddy.”

“Then stop acting like a child and I will!” he says, stepping closer to me. I’m a little surprised.

“This can go very badly for all of us. Then you know who is going to get involved? I’m trying to keep him out of it,”

“I’m not afraid of your father,” I laugh.

“Well you should be.”

“Why would he care about who the hell I marry?”

“Because you’re adding another person to the equation who you have to trust.”

“She doesn’t know anything,” I retort.

“Which means that you don’t think that you can trust her. So, if you can’t trust her to even tell her the truth about yourself, can you trust her with anything else?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust her,” I sigh, running my hands over my face.

“I want her to love me for me,” I say quietly. “Not for who I was. Not for who everyone thinks I should be.”

“I don’t want her to look at me like I’m some broken man how everyone else does.”

“If she loves you. Really loves you, she’ll understand,” he tells me squeezing my shoulder.

“If you don’t tell her, this is going to go bad. And I’m not going to fix any of it. You’re on your own.”

“The medicine’s working,” I tell him adamantly.

“So that’s what you’re placing all your cards on. A medicine that’s still under trial, that you’re the test subject for?” he asks.

“You bet on Helen, I’m betting on her too,” I retort. He shakes his head.

“Starting your marriage on secrets and lies doesn’t make for the most stable foundation,” he sighs. And I can’t help but laugh.

“So that’s not what yours and Helen’s marriage is based on?” I laugh and he scoffs almost as if he’s offended.

“Of course not. We have tons and secrets between us but they are not ours, only other peoples,” he says, squeezing my shoulder before walking away from me and back into the crowd.

I let out a deep groan. I don’t drink but I’ve never wanted one more than right now. I glance at my watch, this is fucking boring. My life almost just fell apart and I need something to distract me, I need something to intoxicate me but it won’t be anything in a bottle, but a little slinky grey dress. I work my way through the crowd avoiding meaningless conversations with people I don’t even like. It takes me about twenty minutes before I bump into Angela who's wobbling a bit having had a few too many drinks herself. She grabs my arm and pulls me into a dance.

“You and I need to talk mister,” she says, her words a bit slurred.

“How can I help you?” I joke back. Angela’s one of the few people I like. She’s smart, funny and straight forward and I know she’d go to war for Lauren which makes her okay in my book.

“L really loves you,” she says sternly.

“Well I’d hope she does,” I kid with her.

“No. I’m serious,” she pouts. “She’s never loved a guy how she loves you. You’ve changed her.” She says the last part off handedly.

“What do you mean?” I ask as she pulls my arm for me to spin her around.

“She’s grown up. Not the same naïve girl who got off the bus from Michigan,” she says, stopping her dance and motioning for me to follow her from the dance floor. Once we are we sit down at an empty table.

“You know we didn’t know what to think of you and her at first. I will admit I didn’t think you could give her what she wanted,” she continues and I wonder if this girl is a mind reader.

“I want to give her everything she wants,” I say simply.

“Good. Because she deserves it,” she says, the slur almost gone from her voice.

“A guy like you could break a girl’s heart,” she says, standing from the table. She then pats my chest.

“But you wouldn’t do that, right?” she says in my ear before gliding back on the dance floor.

I wouldn’t do that. I can’t do that.

I maneuver throughout the hall and spot Lauren grabbing a glass of champagne and heading up the stairs to the second level. I quicken my pace to catch up with her but to stay as far as I can behind her. The second floor is virtually empty, everyone being on the main floor so I know she must be as over this as I am. She walks to the end of the hall where it’s dimly lit and sits at a table alone. I take a deep breath and walk toward her.

“Drinking alone isn’t good,” I wink at her.

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here then,” she says sarcastically.

“To you,” she says, lifting her glass briefly downing the champagne. She stands as I near the table and starts to walk past me. I grab her wrist and she lets out a deep sigh.

“Really Lauren? You’re going to act like this at our engagement party?” I ask.

“How should I be acting Cal?” she asks, wryly. I step closer to her and whisper in her ear

“Like the sight of me makes you wet.”

“You are disgusting,” she says but I can hear the slightest amusement in her voice.

“I have to know if I’m right,” I tell her pulling pressing her up against the wall. She stops my hand as it starts to creep under her dress.

“Am I really enough for you Cal? Just me, one woman, for the rest of your life?” she asks me, sincerity pouring from her voice, those eyes revealing everything, and it hits me. She thinks that Gwen could have been another woman. I have to lean down so we’re face to face. She’s in her come fuck me pumps, they’re tall but she still only comes to my chest.

“You’re it for me. Right now, tomorrow, always.” I tell her and her smile is back, the distance is gone and she’s mine again. She kisses me like she missed me. She moans in my ear as I push her underwear to the side and slip my finger inside of her.

“We’re going to get caught,” she pants.

“You want to be more discreet I take it?” I ask her sarcastically and she nods her head while licking her lips. I grab her hand and pull her to the table she was sitting at before and her eyebrow raises.

“Have a seat Mrs. Brooks,” I say, gesturing to the chair she was sitting in. She eyes me suspiciously with a smirk but sits down. I walk behind her and push her chair underneath the table.

“What are you up to?” she laughs. I wink at her and take off my jacket and hand it to her before lifting the thick grey table cloth up and climbing underneath it.

“Uhm, should I climb under there with you?” she giggles.

“Nope, just sit back and relax,” I tell her as I find her legs underneath and part them.

“Cal no!” she says trying to shut them.

“Have a drink Lauren. I’m about to,” I tell her as my tongue slides up her thigh.

“Oh my God,” she says nervously. I see her hands making sure the table cloth covers her lap as I tug her underwear down.

“Cal this is so bad,” she purrs as my tongue finds its way inside her.

“What i-ff someone,” she says tightly as she melts around me. She doesn’t finish her sentence as her hands grip my hair.

“I start to go faster,” and glance at my watch. I can usually get her off in about five minutes tops if I really wanted to, it only takes longer if I want to tease her, but since I know she’s scared as hell of getting caught I won’t do that right now.

“Cal,” she pants out, trying to be quiet. The little whimpering sounds she’s making has me thinking that pulling her under the table might not be such a bad idea.

“Shiit,” she says as her legs start to get tighter around my neck and I know she’s not far from it.

I hear her phone vibrating on the table.

“It’s Helen. They’re probably looking for us,” she cries.

“They’re probably-c-coming,” she says digging into my shoulder, her legs start to shake and her body goes limp. I climb from under the table and take a seat next to her. Her eyes are closed but the smile on her face is priceless.

“I owe you,” she says, leaning her head on my shoulder.

“You’ve got time to pay me back,” I tell her, running my hand through her hair.

“How much time?” she asks with a giggle.

“Forever.”

Chris

I’M GOING TO CHICAGO. When the words came out of my mouth, I heard them, they felt right to say but really what the hell am I thinking? Chicago? Chicago isn’t me. I don’t know anyone there, I don’t have a job there, and Cal has home field advantage. But Helen is there since I have to start seeing her again and Dex can keep an eye on me if Cal comes back. More important than anything, I’ll be with my family. Lauren and Caylen and that’s how it should be, that’s the most important thing right?

A new start.

It could be good. It’s going to be good. It’s all going to be great.

I’m excited, big city, new relationship, sort of. If I can push out of my mind the fact that Cal is potentially a murderer hell bent on killing my biological father, it would be a lot easier, but since I can’t then we’ll just have to deal with it. The fact that Cal remembers things from my childhood and I don’t isn’t comforting either. To know my dad, the person who brought me into this world could be a cold blooded killer and Cal wants us to follow right in his footsteps.

“Hey!” Aidan knocks on the door to my bedroom twice.

“What’s the occasion? Since when do you knock?” I laugh at him. He shrugs.

“What’s all this?” he asks, gesturing to the bags and boxes I have scattered around the room.

“Lauren's going to Chicago and I’m going with her.”

“Dude, you’re taking enough stuff to move,” he chuckles and I grin at him.

“I am moving,” I tell him and his eyes widen in disbelief.

“Wait a minute, get the fuck out,” he laughs. I spend the next fifteen minutes catching him up on everything that’s happened between me and Lauren, Dexter and Jenna and my dad. Afterwards he lets out a deep breath.

“Whoa. I think I need a minute to process all of this,” he laughs.

“I-I don’t know where to even start. Just to make sure I got all of this—you’re moving to Chicago because you ended it with Jenna and you can see your doctor whose husband is having people follow you around because your alter ego wants to kill your real dad because he thinks he killed your mom,” he asks, and I nod.

“Yeah you’ve kind of got it all down I think.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“And your parents are cool with you moving?”

“They’re not thrilled. My mom doesn’t want me to go but she knows we can’t stay here with my dad acting like a jerk,” I say, sitting next to him.

“So as far as your murderous alter ego goes,” he says, covering up a laugh, “Lauren doesn’t know about this, or about you having people follow you?”

“She has enough to deal with,” I say, standing up and starting to pack my things.

“You think it’s better for her not to know?” he asks, frowning. I shrug.

“It’s not that I’m hiding things from her. It’s just…yeah, I think it’s better that she doesn’t know,” I admit.

“If the roles were reversed you wouldn’t want to know?”

“No. Sometimes ignorance is bliss,” I shrug and he begins to laugh.

“What?”

“I’m just surprised, you know, seeing how upset you were about your parents hiding everything from you,” he says sarcastically.

“That was different,” I say defensively.

“How was that different?” he says smugly. I have no defense. He’s right, I should tell her. She has every right to know but it’s all been so much on her. I wish we could get a day, just one day, without a disaster rearing its ugly head. I sit down on my bed and pull a Snickers out my pocket to eat.

“I mean it could even give you an edge up on his thing,” Aidan shrugs.

“What do you mean?”

“I doubt she’d be hoping for Cal to come back if he wants to kill someone,” he laughs.

“I don’t want her to not want him back because of that. I want her to not want him back because she loves me, who I am. I don’t want to win by default.”

“Chris this isn’t a game man,” he lets out a frustrated groan and I’m caught off guard.

“This is your life. You have got to stop looking at this as a competition,” he says, almost in a scolding tone.

“I’m sorry, when did you become my dad?” I ask, trying to hold in a laugh, but the expression on his face is anything but jovial.

“Do you really think Lauren just wants Cal back?”

“I-I don’t know,” I shrug.

“That girl wants all of you. Not just you or him. She wants her daughter to have a father. For her to have a possibility of a normal life. I have to tell you the worst thing in the world is not you having DID. Life comes with a shitload of problems and you really need to get yourself together because whenever something goes bad you guys can’t keep flipping the switch.

“What’s going on?” I ask him suspiciously.

“What do you mean? I’m giving you advice as your friend. As your best friend!” he exclaims. I stand up and look at him.

“What are you not telling me?” I ask him, crossing my arms. He looks caught off guard.

“Nothing. I’m just trying to help you!” he says defensively.

“You’ve never been a good liar, and you rarely take your head out of your butt long enough to care about what’s going on around you. Something’s up, what’s going on?” I demand.

“So that’s what you really think of me? I’m a self-absorbed jerkoff who doesn’t care about the people I love. Real nice Chris,” he says angrily.

“No, don’t flip this. What the hell is going on?” I demand, and he looks down at the floor guiltily.

“When are you leaving for Chicago?” he asks quietly.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I ask him impatiently.

“It’s not for me to tell you man, but there's some things you need to know before you leave,” he says, crossing his arms.

“What things?” I ask and he just looks down dumbly at the floor.

“Oh, so you can bring it up but not say anything?!”

“I didn’t bring it up. You brought it up!”

“Okay, whatever it is just say it,” I urge him.

“I can’t!” he says throwing up his hands.

“You know what’s worse than knowing there’s a monster under your bed?”

“Knowing there’s one under your bed but not knowing what it looks like,” I laugh angrily.

“It doesn’t involve me. I told her to tell you, she needs time.”

“Who? Lauren?”

“No, Lisa,” he says. I remember her calling me and Lauren mentioning it but so much has happened it’s slipped my mind.

“What would something with Lisa have to do with me?” I say, feeling my anger cool some. There isn’t really anything Lisa can tell me that will knock my world off its axis. Now I’m more worried about her than anything. I grab my cellphone and dial her number.

“She hasn’t been answering, she left town…”

“Hello,” Lisa says.

“Hey?” I ask, and see Aidan’s stunned expression.

“Uhm. Is it something you need?” she asks sheepishly and I look at my phone in disbelief.

“What do you mean is it something I need?” I laugh.

“It’s just been a really, I have a lot going on Chris” she stutters and I glance at Aidan whose gaze won’t leave his feet.

“Look, I’m going to Chicago with Lauren and Aidan thinks there's something important you have to tell me and I don’t want anything hanging over my head before I leave. My mom wants to have dinner tonight but since our record with those haven’t been great I'd rather not,” I chuckle. There’s a long pause.

“When are you leaving?” she asks quietly.

“Why does it matter? Are you home?” I ask, feeling my annoyance grow.

“Yeah, but I have…” she stutters.

“Cool, I’ll see you in about an hour,” I say before hanging up the phone.

“Are you coming with me?” I ask him and he only nods.

“You know what, you’re being really weird, maybe you should stay here,” I laugh, leaving him in my bedroom. I head down stairs and my dad is at the end of them.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks and I let out a sigh.

“Did you think about what I said this morning?”

“I did,” he says quietly.

“I want to speak with both you and Lauren.”

chapter 14

Lauren

HE’S COMING WITH ME.

Chris and I are going back to Chicago. This time there isn’t a question of his motive. He’s told me that he loves me, that he wants to be with me and raise Caylen together. I should be ecstatic, everything is coming together—but on what type of foundation? Secrets and lies? This doesn’t feel right. I can’t shake Dexter Crestfield's smarmy smile from my thoughts. I keep trying to get Lisa's looming secret out of my mind. Helen’s instructions, which I basically threw out the window, are making me rethink everything. I keep thinking that going back to Chicago may not be the right move, but whenever I think about Chris’ dad I can’t imagine us staying here another day.

If we left we could avoid the entire Lisa ordeal until…I don’t know, until…If things somehow become perfect then she ruins it with whatever she has to tell Chris. It’s selfish and stupid but I really just wish she wouldn’t. If it’s not life and death and it will hurt him, I wish she’d just keep it to herself, but then again, whatever it is Aidan thinks it could be the cause of Chris creating Cal. What could be so big that it has to do with Lisa, but if she tells him, could that be the key to them integrating? I have to know that Chris is committed to that before doing a re-run of what I did last night with him.

“Hey,” I turn and see him standing there a nervous smile on his face and it instantly makes me feel better.

“How is the packing going?” I ask, letting out a pent up breath.

“It was good until Aidan interrupted me,” he sighs.

“Aidan’s here?”

“He just left,” he says, rubbing the back of his head.

“Did he want anything in particular?”

“Other than to irritate me,” he chuckles and I smile relieved. Aidan didn’t budge on telling me anything about what Lisa told him, but he’s a very straight forward guy and doesn’t seem like the type who’d be able to keep a secret in plain sight.

“We had an argument, sort of, but he’s going to meet me at Lisa’s later,” he shrugs and my heart speeds up.

“Lisa’s,” I can’t help but repeat.

“Yeah. He said she has something important to tell me. I want to get it out the way before we leave,” he says, sitting down on what has been Caylen’s and my bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks concerned. I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Of course, why would you ask that?”

“Well you’ve folded that shirt over almost three times since I’ve been in here,” he chuckles. I toss the stupid shirt on the bed.

“I’ll admit my nerves are a little on edge,” I sigh. He sighs.

“This probably isn’t going to help but my dad wants to talk to us.”

“Really? He hasn’t dished out enough verbal abuse before we leave?” I ask sarcastically, grabbing another shirt of Caylen’s and folding it.

“He says he wants to apologize to you and doesn’t want us to leave on a bad note,” he adds and I can’t help but look at Chris in disbelief.

“I know my dad’s been a real prick lately,” he laughs and I nod. He’s been more than a prick.

“But that’s not the man he usually is. That’s not the dad I know. It’s just I think this Cal thing…”

“If you want us to talk to him Chris, I can do that, but the moment he says anything negative or remotely insulting I’ll be exiting the conversation,” I shrug and he smiles relieved.

“Okay.”

“Are you ready now?” he asks and grunts.

As ready as I’m going to be.

“Yeah, let's get it out the way.”

I follow Chris out the room and into the dining room. Mr. Scott is sitting at the head of the table, his hands folded but his face relatively relaxed and the hardened frown I’ve become accustomed to absent. When he sees us he even smiles and that shocks the hell out of me. Since I’ve met the man he’s never smiled at me once. I don’t know what Chris said to him after our conversation this afternoon but it really must have been something. When we’re seated he takes a deep breath, and he shifts his body weight towards me.

“First I’d like to apologize to you Lauren,” he says without a hint of bitterness or anger hidden beneath his tone. I nearly fall out of my chair.

“I have been extremely unhospitable to you since you’ve arrived,” he continues.

“Just a plain jerk,” he adds with a chuckle.

Yeah you have.

“I blamed you for things that were not your fault. I used you as someone to take my anger out on since they weren’t here for it and I am truly sorry for how I have been towards you.”

Has hell just frozen over? Who is this man sitting in front of me?

“Christopher, what you told me this morning really was a wakeup call for me. You did exactly as you should have and stood up for your wife, for her respect and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he says putting his hand on Chris’. I can’t help but note how pleased Chris looks, how much stress seems to have poured off him just in these few minutes.

“I want you both to know that, if you choose to stay, it will be different around here on my end. I will be here to support whatever decisions that you make, but both Gwen and I would be thrilled if you chose to stay.”

So that’s what this is about. He wants Chris to stay, God forbid he steps out from under Papa’s wing.

“Well Dad that’s…”

“You don’t have to answer me now. I’ll give you both time to talk about it. I just know that one of the main reasons you’re leaving is because of the way I have been acting and I couldn’t sleep tonight if I knew that I was breaking up our family,” he says and I can’t believe my eyes when I see that Mr. Scott is actually tearing up. What in the world has just happened? He turns towards me.

“Lauren do you accept my apology?” he asks and takes my hand in his. I can’t believe this is happening. I glance over at Chris who looks like he’s about to tear up as well.

This man has been nothing but mean, nasty and cruel to me since I’ve known him, but this guy in front of me seems to not even be the same person. If Chris was his biological son right now I’d swear that DID runs in their family.

“I-I,” I stutter, not knowing what to say. I glance back at Chris who has this pleading expression on his face. How can I not give him what he wants? His happy family. If William can stop being a jerk, or at least pretend, then I can move forward, I guess.

“Of course,” I tell him and before I know it he’s stood up and pulled me into a bear hug.

Am I dreaming? After he releases me he does the same to Chris but Chris’ return embrace is genuine.

“Thanks, Dad,” he says almost beaming. Mrs. Scott appears in the doorway and soon everyone is hugging. I don’t know what to say or what to think. They’re happy so I should be happy. This could mean things are going to go really well, we deserve a break after everything. Chris deserves a break. Then my thoughts drift to… what happens after?

FEBRUARY 7, 2011

“I CAN’T SAY I’M not surprised, because nothing about you surprises me. But you successfully married and happy? I didn’t see that in your future. I am very proud of you,” Helen beams at me like a gold digger who’s just spotted a dying single billionaire.

“Why thank you mother. I knew you’d be proud,” I say, just as sarcastically.

“Even remembering your two month anniversary. I am very impressed,” she says, handing me the box with Lauren’s present in it.

“These are the Dorothy Shoes?” I ask, looking at the box. Helen has it wrapped in black paper with a big red bow.

“The correct name is limited edition Loubuitons,” she corrects me.

“The Dorothy shoes that fine ass Jessica Alba had on?” I ask.

“Yes Cal. The ‘Dorothy’ shoes,” she says dryly and takes a seat on my couch.

“Dex only remembered our anniversary because his assistant reminded him,” she chuckled.

“Well, I have to tell you, I know I don’t say it a lot but 'Thank you'. For everything,” I tell her with a shrug.

“You deserve to be happy Cal. I’m glad you’ve finally allowed yourself to be,” she says, patting my shoulder.

“Well I’ll be happy once you get the final okay on the meds,” I tell her, handing her my empty pill bottle. She hasn’t given me a refill, and won’t until she receives some final results.

“I’m headed to the team right after I leave here. Besides I better get going, before I ruin your surprise,” she says, standing from her seat.

“Let me know what Lauren says once she sees the shoes. I had trouble parting with them,” she says before I head out the door.

I look at the clock. Lauren won’t be expecting me for a while. I’ve worked out for two hours. I can’t wait until I get home and get see the look on her face when she sees them. Especially since I’m going to pretend not to remember what today is. Everything has been so fucking good. I’ve never been this happy in my whole life. I never thought I could feel like this about someone. I took all that I wanted out of life. Everything I have I had to take or fight for. With Lauren it’s not like that, for once the universe is cutting me a break. Me, the dark sheep, the prodigal son, happily married to a beautiful, amazing woman who loves me. Not for who she thinks I am or wants me to be, just me. There’s really no better feeling than that. I wouldn’t trade it for the world on a platter.

*

I KNEW SHE’D BE pissed when she thought I forgot our anniversary. She’s so sexy when she’s pissed. It’s cute that she tried to hide that she was upset at first. She was obviously disappointed, but with a little prodding she let it out. I hate when she doesn’t say what she feels or tries to hide her emotions. I don’t want her to hide any part of herself from me. That’s why my favorite look on her face is right when she comes. You can’t hide that at all.

“You’re mad.” I sigh trying to keep from laughing as I put down my suitcase.

“No. Well, yeah, I am. I can give you a pass for forgetting our anniversary, even though it was only two months ago but if you think I’m going to give you a pass for every holiday because you think it’s ‘cliché' or 'arbitrary’...” she trails off as I pull out the shoes Helen had wrapped. I set the box on her lap and laugh at myself for the big cheesy grin that’s on my face.

“You were saying, Mrs. Scott?”

A huge grin spreads across her face and she rolls her eyes at me.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” she jokes, untying the bow on the box.

I sit next to her and kiss her neck. She’s so careful taking it apart.

“Come on babe, tear into it!”

“Okay, okay. It’s just so pretty,” she squeals, removing the paper and when she sees the box she freezes. She looks over at me her eyes wide and bright.

“You didn’t!” she says excitedly. She opens the box to see a pair of Dorothy shoes she talked about for a week straight.

“Oh my gosh! Cal,” she says her eyes tearing up.

“Read the card,” I say pointing to it tucked in between the shoes. She picks it up.

“These shoes look like they’re straight out of 'The Wizard of Oz,' but since sometimes I’m like the tornado that blew you into Oz, I guess you can wear Dorothy’s red slippers. And if I’m gone and seem lost, maybe you can do a little click and I’ll find my way home.”

“It’s corny isn’t it?” I ask, feeling a little embarrassed.

She nods and climbs on my lap.

“As corny as you being my Prince Charming,” she says, kissing me softly. I want more of her. I wrap my arms around her waist and press her down on my lap so she can feel how much I want her. She giggles.

“Are you going to wear them for me?”

“I have the perfect white dress for them,” she says, running her hands through my hair.

“No dress. Just them,” I say, watching her skin turn red.

“Later,” she promises. “I have to run and pick up your gift,” she says hopping off me. She runs to the console table and grabs her purse.

“No, my gift can be you,” I whine. She cannot leave me with a full hard on.

“It will be. Tonight,” she promises, reaching the door. I give her the saddest face I can muster.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She giggles, and I make my way closer to her. “No. Five feet,” she threatens, her hand on the doorknob, laughing.

“I hope you’ve gotten a lot of sleep since I’ve been gone. Because you’re going to be up all night,” she says, giving me a faux-warning and my body perks up at the thought.

“Plenty,” I say with a wink before she slips out the door.

*

MY WORK OUT THIS morning must have really kicked my ass. I usually never take naps. When the phone rings I almost put it back down until I see it’s Dexter and he’s called twice.

“What’s up Dexter?” I ask groggily.

“We have a problem,” he says solemnly. His tone causes me to sit up in the bed.

“What type of problem?” I ask him anxiously.

“Helen’s talked to her team. The medication hasn’t been recommended for further trial…” I heard what he just said, but he can’t have just said what I think he’s just said.

“Can you run that by me again?” I ask, hoping that I heard him wrong, that I’m still asleep and my brain isn’t functioning right.

“I’m sorry Cal,” he says quietly. He’s sorry? No, no fucking way.

“I don’t give a shit what the eggheads are saying. Have Helen bring me the rest of what she has,” I say simply.

“Cal she can’t. The medication has shown dangerous side effects. They are going to do further testing but as of now, it’s all being decimated.”

“You’re kidding me. You’re fucking kidding me!” I yell. Fuck controlling my temper or trying not to be mad. This, this can’t. They can’t just stop it.

“It’s been working Dex. Other than the damn hot flashes, it’s working. You know it is,” I say, feeling myself start to panic.

“Helen can tell you the medical specifics but if you have any more, flush it. You have to stop taking it.”

“Bullshit!” I yell into the phone. I want to throw it into the wall.

“I know you’re mad Cal,”

“Mad? I’m fucking furious! I can’t stop taking it. What the hell am I going to do? You told me you were sure before I did this. This changes everything!”

Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!

“I’m not going to stop!”

“Cal this is Helen. Listen to me, everything is going to be okay. I promise you, we’ll make this work,” she says, trying to calm me down. I’m so mad there are tears in my eyes.

“I-am-not-going-to-stop!”

“If you don’t you’re dead Cal. You understand, this could kill you,” Dexter says as if he’s talking to a fucking kid.

“I might as well be Dex! How the fuck am I supposed to explain this?”

“Lauren loves you. She will understand. We just tell her the truth,” Helen says. The truth. Yeah the truth, after we’re already married. Tell her she’s trapped in a marriage with two different people? I won’t do that to her. I can’t. There has to be another way.

“I won’t. I can’t take her through that shit,”

“Let me see what I can do Cal. Let me figure things out,” Helen interjects.

“Well, figure it out fast,” I say and hang up the phone. My throat is burning, there’s a stinging in my chest. I want the feeling gone now, fast. I throw my phone down and next thing I know I’ve punched through the fucking wall. It hurts but it distracts me from what’s wrong. What is about to go terribly wrong.

Shit, I’m bleeding. I barge through my door and I see her there. Her eyes wide, completely still. I’m going to lose her. This is going to be the end of us.

“Cal, what’s wrong? You look upset,” her voice is wavering and she’s squeezing her wrist. She only does that when something’s wrong

“Um.” What do I tell her? I have to tell her something. I run my hands over my face.

She rushes up the stairs to me and takes my wrist in her hand looking at my swollen knuckles.

“Cal, what did you do?!” she asks frantically, leading me to the guest bathroom and starts running water over it.

“Don’t be mad, but I punched a hole in our wall,” I say trying to downplay that I just busted one of our fucking walls like a psycho.

Her head snaps up towards me.

“Why did you do that?!” she asks, grabbing our first-aid kit and pulling out the antibiotic wipes.

“Dex really pissed me off,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bathtub while she cleans my hand.

She nods as if she understands.

“I kind of heard you talking to him,” she admits looking up at me guiltily. What the hell did she hear? I can’t even say anything.

“Did it have something to do with me?” she asks, sitting on my lap. I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on her shoulder, and she starts to rub my hair. I don’t deserve her. That’s why I’m going to lose her. Fate was drunk off its ass when it let me have her and now it realized it fucked up.

“I’m—I’m going to be gone a little more than I thought I was,” I can’t even look at her as I say it. She lets out a breath she was holding in. She’s relieved. If only she knew. She smiles widely at me and I wish I could feel the relief she’s feeling right now but all I feel is suffocated, like walls are closing in on me.

“That’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay but it's nothing to go punching holes in the wall over,” she teases.

“I’m a big girl,” she adds quietly.

I try to smile but it doesn’t even work.

“I’m not feeling too good, babe. Would it be really fucked up if we didn’t go out tonight?” I try to see how bad this sucks for her but she’s good at hiding it and gives me a pageant girl smile

“No, babe. If you’re not feeling well it’s nothing we can’t do another day.”

“Are you sure? Because we can if you still want to do something, I can just lie down,” I cup her in my hand and look into her eyes. If she’s really disappointed she’s doing a hell of a job at hiding it.

“No, get some rest. It’s your first day back home and you’re probably jet-lagged. It’s fine,” she says, before giving me a soft kiss on the lips.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” I promise her.

“And you don’t have to sit here with me. You should call your girls and go out,” I try to sound excited for her, she should go out. I’ll have to get used to not having her. I walk into the bedroom and lie across the bed.

“I’m not going to spend our anniversary out with them. As long as I’m with you, that’s what’s important,” she says, crawling next to me.

I wrap one of my arms around her and hold her close.

“You know that I love you, right?” I try to sound upbeat but I just can’t muster it.

“Of course I do,” she says, looking back at me curiously.

“No, seriously.” I turn her body around towards me, so she’s facing me completely.

“No matter what. Whatever happens--if anything were to happen--nothing, under any circumstances,” I take her hand and place it on my chest and hold it there, “will ever take you from here. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, always know how much I love you. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and even if I screw it up--”

She cups my face in her hand

“Cal, you’re scaring me. Is everything okay?” she asks, sitting up and staring at me. No it isn’t but I won’t think about that now. She’s here and I have her.

“Yeah, just trying to get laid,” I say, trying to kill the terrible vibe in the room. She continues searching my face.

“You can tell me anything. Nothing would change the way I feel about you. You’ll always be my Cal.” I wish that what she says was true but my situation is the outlier to any situation she can imagine.

“I know. That’s why I love you,” I tell her, pulling her towards me and kissing her long and soft, how she likes it. I don’t do anything else. I don’t deserve anything else. We have a problem, the clock has just started on our happy ending and it’s turning backwards. She’s about to find out I’m not her fucking Prince Charming, not even close.

chapter 15

Chris

THIS MORNING IF YOU’D told me that my dad and Lauren would be able to talk without scowling at each other I wouldn’t have believed you. That Lauren actually agreed to stay until the end of the month in my parents' house, I would have laughed in your face. It’s funny how so much can change in the span of a few hours. I don’t know what prompted my dad's change of heart. I wonder if it was the threat of kicking him out of my life that did it. Who ever said you win more flies with honey never met my dad. I look forward to living in a house that isn’t a warzone. I’m glad to have him back to himself again and not this angry ticked off guy he’s become since Lauren arrived. At first I didn’t think she would accept his apology but she did and I know it was because of me. Because she thinks I needed her to. Maybe I did.

I just can’t help but want some things to be more familiar, like they were before all of this chaos happened. Getting things back on track is a huge step in the right direction. It reminds me that everything that’s gone wrong could possibly be fixed. Nothing is unfixable. That’s what makes me feel better as I walk to Lisa’s door. I don’t know what it is she has to tell me but whatever it is we can fix it. With Lisa you never know what the problem could be. We’ve been friends since elementary school. She’s always been the person I could talk to. She always has a way of making me feel better when some things seemed hopeless. That’s when I was young, now the things that seemed hopeless then would be a cake walk now.

I know she’s going to be happy to hear that Lauren and I are making it official. Well, I guess it doesn’t get any more official than getting married. I ring her doorbell and wait for her to answer. After a few minutes when she doesn’t, I ring it again and knock harder at the door. Her car’s outside so I know she’s home.

“Come on Lisa,” I mutter to myself. Before I start to knock on the door again she’s opened it.

“Hey Chris,” she says, her eyes locked on her feet.

“Hey. What’s going on with you?” I ask, walking past her into her house. I’m surprised it’s clean. Ridiculously clean. Lisa’s never been filthy but she always has stuff everywhere—clothes, old containers of food—but today it looks like my mom has been here and cleaned up for her.

“I’ve just been busy,” she says as she walks past me and sits on her sofa, her hands clasped together in front of her.

“How are you?” she asks dryly. I chuckle.

“I’m good and you ma'am?” I ask sarcastically. That causes her to smile a little.

“What’s up? What’s been going on with you?” I ask, sitting next to her on the couch. She sighs and runs her hands through her hair.

“I-I have a lot on my mind,” she chuckles.

“Did you get fired? Are you going to jail, what’s up?” I joke, nudging her and she stands up and crosses her arms.

“You changed your hair,” I say, surprised. I didn’t notice it until now but the red streak is gone and she’s back to her normal blonde color. Her nose ring is out too.

“Yeah. It’s time for a change,” she says quietly.

“So, you’re going to Chicago?”

“Eventually. Right now we decided to stay,” I tell her happily. Her eyebrows rise and a smile spreads across her own face.

“We?” she giggles. I nod.

“Me and Lauren and Caylen,” I tell her and her eyes widen and the dark cloud that’s been over her head since I walked in has disappeared briefly.

“So you guys are… Did you break things off with Jenna?” she asks excitedly.

“Yeah. We’re going to try to make this thing work,” I tell her and she runs over and gives me a big hug.

“That’s so great Chris. It’s about time you listened to me,” she says, patting me on the back.

“Thank you. For being there, and for listening. For being you, never judging. I don’t tell you enough, but you’re a great friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I expect her to joke and give me one of her sloppy kisses on my forehead when she gets emotional but instead her whole body stiffens. I step back from her and I see tears in her eyes.

“Lisa what’s wrong?” I ask, starting to feel nervous. I’ve only seen Lisa cry once in my whole life and that was when her mother missed her graduation because she was too drunk to remember to show up.

“I’m so glad you’re happy Chris,” she says, her voice wavering as she turns away from me.

“Lisa, what is going on?” I ask, starting to become anxious.

“I don’t want to be the one to ruin it. I didn’t want to do this. I swear to God I never meant to hurt you,” I turn her around and she’s crying so hard her body is shaking. I pull her to me.

“Lisa what is it?”

“Why are you crying Lisa?” a small voice says from behind us. I turn around and see a little girl of maybe seven or eight, with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

“Everything’s fine. Go back in my room okay,” Lisa says trying to pull herself together.

“Who are you?” the little girl asks me.

“I’m Chris, Lisa’s friend,” I tell her, looking back over at Lisa.

“What’s your name?” I ask, kneeling down so we’re at eye level. She gives me a shy smile.

“I’m Willa,” she tells me.

“Please go back in my room sweetie,” Lisa says, ushering her half way. When the little girl leaves I look at Lisa for an explanation.

“Is that one of your students? You didn’t kidnap someone's kid did you?” I say half-jokingly. Lisa has a big heart and I wouldn’t be surprised what she’d do to help a kid even if it wasn’t exactly the legal way. She sighs, it seems like it lasts forever and then wipes her face.

“No. She was staying with my aunt. But now my aunt’s really sick and she can’t take care of her anymore,” she says quietly.

“You’re adopting your niece?” I ask her, sitting back down her couch. I’m not surprised, Lisa loves kids, but to actually take care of one, to be a parent, I don’t know if she’s ready for that yet. She shakes her head.

“She isn’t my niece. She’s my daughter,” she says quickly. So quickly I know I haven’t heard her right.

“Wait. What?” I ask her in disbelief.

“I had her when I was nineteen,” she says, tears coming back in her eyes. I feel like I should say something, but I’m at a loss for words. Lisa has a kid, and she never told me.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” I say, letting out a deep breath.

“Wow, Lisa,” is all I can come up with. We both sit in silence and then my heart starts to beat faster and I remember why I’m here.

Oh no. Oh NO!

“She. She isn’t mine is she Lisa? You and Cal didn’t…” I say, feeling like I’m about to throw up. That son of a bitch. That son of a bitch! She stands from the couch and turns away from me.

“Lisa. Tell me. Say something now,” I say, my voice shaking. She turns back around, her lips quivering and her hands shaking.

“She’s not your daughter. She’s your sister.”

*

WHEN MY MOM TOLD me she had cancer everything changed. Everything seemed sharper, faster, so fast that nothing really mattered. It all blurred together as time sped up. My world shifted off its axis, my life couldn’t be the same.

When Lisa said those words the exact opposite happened. For a moment everything around me froze, time moved in slow motion, at a glacial pace. I can only describe it as when you get really drunk and you move around lazily. Everything’s foggy. Your mind is like a swamp, your thoughts float around, everything is sticky. Muddy, sticky isn’t the word, muddy. When what you hear is so far-fetched, so catastrophically bad that you brain doesn’t compute it. It can’t compute it. It’s so ridiculous your thoughts won’t process it.

Like it glitches.

I don’t know how long Lisa’s been standing in front of me but I know she could not have just said what I think she just said. It’s impossible, I can’t even respond to it, because if I responded I’d be just as ridiculous as her. I don’t even think I’m here right now. I’m in a nightmare, a constructed dream. Cal is fucking with me. This is all an illusion so he can break me down, mentally fuck me so bad that I can’t come back from it, but I know this isn’t real. My best friend isn’t standing in front of me with a kid I just met in the other room telling me she’s my sister.

It’s implausible because in order for that to be true that would mean she would have had to screw my dad. My father, who would never do anything as disgusting as sleep with my best friend.

He wouldn’t betray my mother like that. Because if he slept with my best friend that would make him…a hypocrite, a filthy piece of shit? It would mean that everything he taught me about values and being a good person was bullshit. That everything I believed in was a fucking lie.

“Christopher,” she squeaks out meekly. It snaps me from my trance.

“Say something. Please.” I look up at her standing in front of me, tears streaming down her face and I feel a switch about to go off. Like a bomb about to explode and it’s taking everything in me not to. So much that I’m afraid to move because the slightest thing could set me the fuck off.

“Say that again,” I ask simply, and she shakes her head.

“How is she my sister?” I say, cocking my head trying to understand. Hoping against hope there is some reasonable explanation for this. She looks away from me and I take a deep breath. “Did he rape you?” I ask, cringing at the word. Her eyes look up at me.

“No,” she says quietly.

“So you willingly fucked my dad?” I ask her bluntly. She seems caught off guard, surprised I guess that I’d use that type of language.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” she says, crying again. I want to get up and leave, leave her right here crying but my body won’t move. My mind has too many questions and it won’t let any of my limbs budge until it has the answers.

“Yeah, I don’t think fucking your best friend's dad is ever supposed to happen,” I say quietly.

Nice one, Chris.

“Chris, please,” she begs. Bitch, fucking slut, don’t believe her tears.

“Chris, please, what? What Lisa, would you like me to do or say? You’re telling me that kid in there is my dad's. My fucking dad’s, Lisa. She’s what? Seven or eight, which would mean,” I stand up, my legs finally gaining strength, “you slept with him when we were in high school?” I feel like I’m about to vomit.

“We made a mistake!” she says through tears. So many tears.

“How many times?” I ask, holding my head.

“Please, it doesn’t matter,” she whimpers.

“How many times?” I roar.

“A lot! I loved him. We loved each other,” she says and I’m going to throw up right here.

“You sat in our house. My mother's house,” I say disgusted. She’s a fucking cunt what do you expect?

“Shut up!” I shout. Both to her and to the fucking voice in my head. It’s him and he won’t shut up. He knew.

“Cal knew. He knew didn’t he?!” I ask her, walking closer to her until she backs into a wall.

“He. I. We thought it was you. At first,” she whimpers, looking down guilty.

“He caught us. Or you did, but after that you began to act strange. That was the first time you disappeared for those days. We thought when you came back… We just knew that you were going to tell your mom,” she shakes her head. “But you didn’t. You weren’t even mad, we eventually realized. It was because you didn’t remember. After that you started calling yourself Cal and whenever you did you were so mean and hateful towards us. We didn’t know then,” her voice breaks.

“It was our fault. We made you this way,” she says, breaking down. I shake my head, I feel energy in me coming from everywhere. I walk towards her, looking at the girl I'd trusted, who was my friend and, for a brief time, who I had a crush on. I cover my face and then slam my fists on the wall on both sides of her. She screams before sliding down to the floor. The little girl comes out and runs over to her and hugs her.

“Leave her alone!” she yells and I try to slow down my breathing. This rage is growing within me and I don’t know how to handle it.

“Does he know?” I ask her, trying to calm my tone.

She shakes her head.

“Great. I’ll deliver the happy news,” I say before heading out the door.

MARCH 12, 2011

YOU CAN’T OUTSMART THE universe. It doesn’t make glitches. It catches up with you. Sooner or later if you’re meant to be fucked, you will be. It’s like those plane movies when the kids think they’ve outsmarted death but at the end of the movie they get decapitated or burned alive. The universe remembered that Cal Scott doesn’t get to be happy. That my life was never supposed to be anything other than what it was, pointless, meaningless and insignificant.

“Cal.” Helen’s voice interrupts my pity party. She and Dexter sit across from me at their huge ass conference table. Her voice is sympathetic, Dexter looks like he cares and it makes me want to throw up. I don’t want their sympathy. I don’t want them to give a shit. No one should give a shit.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks me for the third fucking time.

“I don’t have a choice, Helen,” I say, trying to keep my voice dry and even.

“You could tell her the truth. Let her decide. That’s what I’d want,” she says. I look over at Dexter who's holding her hand. They don’t know how lucky they are. To be able to love each other without any interference or handicap. The biggest of their problems is agreeing on where they want to vacation.

“I can’t do that do her. I made a mistake when I married her. She doesn’t deserve the life she’d be stuck in with me.

“Shouldn’t that be her choice?” Dexter asks, drinking his glass of brandy. I'm contemplating asking him for one even though I never drink.

“I have to make the right one for her now. She’ll get over me and meet a nice normal guy,” I say, more to myself than them.

“You’re really going to let her go? Just like that?” Dexter asks suspiciously.

“Trust me it’s not 'just like that',” I say defensively.

“I think you’re making a mistake. I think you should tell her and she will understand. She’ll stand by you,” Helen says pleading.

“I didn’t come here for you guys to convince me out of it. If you don’t have the medicine to fix me, if you don’t have a solution to this problem, I don’t want to hear any alternatives or suggestions!” I tell them.

“Okay,” Dexter says simply, Helen nods. Dexter slides over the folder to me. I review the terms of what we discussed. The financial details at least. I want to make sure Lauren’s taken care of the rest of her life. She shouldn’t have to want for anything. I flip through to the final page in the folder. It’s divorce papers. I look away quickly and grab the pen on the table and sign it. When she’s ready to move on completely I don’t want anything to stop her. I don’t want her to be stuck, even though it feels like a knife cutting through me as I sign my name. Once I’m done I slide the papers across the table to him. He takes the folder and stands up from the table.

“Well I think I’m done here," he says, heading towards the door of their office.

“Dex…” He stops mid step.

“Remember, she’s not to know under any circumstances about Chris. No matter what,” I tell him. He turns back towards me.

“None?” he asks. I can’t think of a reason that would be important for her to ever need to know.

“None. Promise me. On your name,” I tell him. If it’s one thing that’s important to them, it’s their name.

“Done,” he says quietly before leaving the room.

“I’m sorry about Gwen, Cal,” Helen says solemnly.

“I’m sorry about everything,” she says, her voice cracking.

“Come on Helen. You have to keep up the façade that you don’t have a heart,” I wink at her and she smirks.

“Be careful, I’m going to start thinking you have one,” she says and we both stand from the table.

“I have a heart. It’s just not all that big,” I tease her. She walks over and gives me a hug. For the first time ever I really hug her back.

“I know you want her to hate you when you tell her goodbye. Just try to remember, that could be the last time she sees you. Leave her with something to know how much it is that you love her,” she says, looking me in the eye.

“Take care of my girl for me,” I tell her as she walks me to the door.

“Absolutely,” she promises as I enter their private elevator to take me to their exit. She waves and I give her a little salute.

*

WHEN I WALK INTO the house it’s dark except for the light in the hall near our bedroom. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I head up the stairs. This is the first time since I’ve known her that I don’t want to see her. That I wish I didn’t have to because I know what I’m going to tell her is going to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her, now it seems like all I’ve done is hurt her. I think back to that night when I first saw her, how I was trying to save her from that douchebag Michael. I wonder if she would have been better off with him. When I walk in the room she’s sprawled across the bed. Her long dark hair covering the sheets. She’s beautiful, and she seems at peace, all the chaos I’ve brought her, but she still sleeps peacefully.

I want to touch her, to kiss her, but I won’t do that. I don’t deserve that. I deserve to walk out of here and never hear her voice, or feel her touch again. I leave out of the room and walk around the house. The only place I’ve ever felt at home.

She made my house a home, she’s home.

I sit down on the couch and think of all the things I’ve done to her. How good I’ve made her feel, how bad I've made her feel.

After they stopped the medication trial, things just started to crumble. Chris started to come back more frequently. It was starting to be where I didn’t have much time from when we transitioned. I had to be gone more often, I even had to stop working. I couldn’t tell her why. I started to ‘omit’ the truth. What liars tell themselves to feel better, but in reality it’s all a big fabrication. She started to be suspicious but she’s way off base. She thinks I cheat on her. That I have all of these women. I tell her I’d never cheat on her, but she doesn’t believe me because there’s no other plausible explanation. The real explanation is the opposite of plausible. She started to resent me. I saw her change.

She built a persona around herself, one that she puts on to not give a damn, but I see it in her eyes how much it hurts her and I hate myself for it. She thinks I hate her and that makes everything worse. I try to show her I love her the only way I know how without lying. The only time I can see behind her walls she’s built up is when I’m inside her, literally. I’m turning her into someone I never wanted her to be. I liked that she spoke her mind, now she only tells half-truths. She’s angry, and I know it’s because she’s hurting. This is going to hurt her, but she’s strong. She’ll get over me, she’ll move on. She can have the life that she always wanted. Someone she can know, whose family she can meet, where her biggest decision is where to go on vacation. I’ve been down here awhile. I head back upstairs. Before I go into our bedroom for probably the last time I ready myself for this. Ready to take the role of villain, to make her see me as someone I never wanted her to see, the reason I loved her so much because even in all our fights and arguments she never looked at me like that. Today she has to.

“You’re finally up,” I say turning on the light.

“How long have you been here?” she asks, covering a yawn escaping from her mouth.

“About an hour,” I say, sitting in a chair across from the bed so we’re face to face. She glances at me, her eyebrow arched.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” I pull my chair closer towards her and sit back down. She looks at me curiously; I can’t look her in the eye.

“Cal,” she says softly, reminding me of the girl I fell in love with. Not the pissed off angry woman she’s been the past few months.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, almost as if she’s afraid to hear the answer. I wish more than anything I didn’t have to, but I can’t let her know that. Anger is what she’ll want to hold on to it’s what she needs.

“I’ve never lied to you,” I say steadying my voice. “And I’m not going to start now,” I drop my head down, run my hands through my hair. How am I supposed to do this?

My heart rate picks up. “Just say it,” she commands.

I take her hand, I won’t have the strength to do it if I don’t remind myself how much I love her. More than myself.

“I-I have to leave.” The words are bitter as they come up from my throat.

“Her expression hardens, and she pulls her hand away. “You called me back for this?” She’s sighs, obviously frustrated and annoyed and stands up. I take her hand and pull her back down.

“Look, this is different,” I tell her.

“Everything is different with you, Cal. If you weren’t so different, maybe I wouldn’t feel so screwed up right now,” she snaps at me. She’s pissed and I deserve it, and she’s right. If I wasn’t different we wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t have to do this if I wasn’t different. She could be happy. I could make her happy but things aren’t different, they’re the same and I have to let her go.

“I don’t know if I’ll be back.” She looks confused.

“What?”

“Would you mind repeating yourself?” she says sharply.

“I’m going to make sure that you’re taken care of. I put sixty thousand in your personal account…”

“What? You don’t know if you’ll be back?” She’s frantic and I try to stay still. Calm.

“Why does it sound like you’re saying that you’re leaving me?”

“I have to,” I tell her, trying to remain indifferent, cold, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

“Is this about me, how I’ve been acting? Is this some kind of revenge thing?” she asks, her voice starting to waver.

“This has nothing to do with you,” I force the words out.

“Exactly, Cal! Look what you’re saying—I’m your wife. And your decision to leave has nothing to do with me?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“What are you talking about? Cal! Talk to me, please,” she says frantically. “Look at me!” she pleads.

I can’t look at her.

“What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this?” Tears are starting to fill her eyes and I feel like I’m being punched in the chest.

“Tell me what the hell is going on! Tell me what’s going on with you for once!” she begs, and I just want her to stop crying, to stop pleading. I want her to yell at me and hit me and punch me not this.

“I can’t!” I yell at her.

“This isn’t about me,” I say, walking away from her. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

“Then who is it about?”

I can’t answer her.

“You won’t tell me that either, huh?” she says quietly.

“What am I supposed to say, Cal? What?” she yells. “Am I just supposed to accept you leaving? No explanations except ‘you have to.’ Not that I’ve ever gotten one from you. This won’t be any different except who knows when you’ll come back? If you come back.”

“My stock dividends from the company will still be deposited into the account…” I try to focus on what I’m supposed to tell her and nothing else.

“I don’t care about the fucking money! I never cared about any of this—the trips, this house— I never needed this! All I wanted…” she’s screaming now. “All I wanted was you, can’t you see that?” I close my eyes and stop what feels like tears about to start. I can’t cry in front of her.

“Say something,” she whispers.

“Is there someone else?” she asks.

“I told you I’ve never cheated on you,” I say, using anger as my weapon.

“Then why? People just don’t decide to leave out of nowhere. There has to be a reason, tell me you’re in love with someone else; that this isn’t working; that you’re in trouble; just tell me something!”

“There’s nothing I can tell you,” I say quickly.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asks, her voice so light it’s like it’ll break.

“Helen and Dex will take care of anything you need…”

“Helen and Dexter? They know about this? How long have you known that you were leaving me? Have you gotten bored with me, or is this just a spur of the moment thing?”

She can’t think that. She has to know that’s not what this is.

“It’s not like that,” I tell her, walking towards her.

She steps away from me. She won’t let me touch her. “Then what? Tell me what it’s like. Tell me something. Tell me why!” she begs.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!” she screams and I don’t know how much longer I can do this. She walks over to the bed and covers her head with her arms. She’s crying so much that she’s shaking. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She's breaking right in front of me. I’m breaking her down, and it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. I reach out to her and she snatches away from me, but I grab her and pull her close to me.

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?” she whimpers.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, holding back my own tears.

“No, you aren’t,” she cries.

“Yes, I am,” I whisper in her ear.

Then she wraps her arms around me and she looks up at me. “Don’t make me ask you to stay.” She begins to cry harder. I look away from her.

“I wish I could,” I tell her. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m confusing her. I’m confusing myself. I can’t stay. This will hurt her but she’ll come back from this.

“Don’t! Don’t you dare make this seem as if it's out of your control? If you wanted to stay, you would!”

I put my hands on her waist and bring my lips to hers. I don’t kiss her and she doesn’t kiss me back and I can’t blame her. I kiss her cheek and rest my cheek on hers.

“You’ll get through this, you’ll have to.” I tell her, this isn’t how things were supposed to go. I don’t know how they were supposed to go now.

“If you’re leaving, go!” She pushes me.

“Leave.” I hate you! I hate you, you fucking bastard!” She hits me, and pushes me and screams and cries. I stand there and take it, take it all. I deserve it. When she’s done she rests her head briefly on my chest then takes a deep breath.

“Just go,” she whispers and she sits on the floor, tucking her head in between her knees. I want to tell her that I love her, that it’s fucking killing me to leave her, but that would only make things worse. I start to walk towards her but I know me touching her, isn’t what she needs right now. I leave the room and shut the door behind me and let go completely. I hit the wall, I kick it until I can’t anymore.

I hate myself. I sit next to the door and cry. I cry for her. I cry for myself for the first time in my life.

I’m losing the best thing I ever had.

chapter 16

Lauren

“I KNEW I LOVED Gwen the first time she made me smothered pork chops and mashed potatoes,” Mr. Scott laughs, holding Caylen as Mrs. Scott starts sets the table for dinner.

“He fell in love with my cooking, Lauren,” she says happily.

“Her looks had a little something to do with it too,” he chuckles. I laugh, taking a sip of ice tea. Gosh, this guy is so different to how he’s been over the past couple of weeks. He’s actually funny, and dare I say charming, and not a total prick. He’s been telling stories and jokes for the past hour while Mrs. Scott cooked. I actually didn’t notice Chris had been gone as long as he had until I got a text from Lisa saying to call her ASAP.

“Excuse me,” I say getting up from the table but as I do Chris walks into the kitchen.

“Now we can eat!” his dad laughs. Chris smiles widely but it’s tight.

“I made your dad’s favorite. Pork chops and mashed potatoes,” Gwen says happily. All her food is Chris' favorite.

“Great,” he says, kissing her on the forehead and then he heads to the kitchen. I follow behind him.

“Soo, …” I ask, watching him wash his hands.

“What’s up?” he asks shortly.

“How did things go with Lisa?” He glances at me and I notice his eye twitches a bit.

“Did Lisa talk to you about what she needed to tell me?” he asks as he continues to wash his hands.

“Uh, no. I tried to get her to tell me but she wouldn’t,” I tell him, and he only nods.

“What happened?” I ask, noticing he’s still washing his hands.

“Oh, we’ll all talk about it after dinner. I think that’s best,” he says shortly, continuing to scrub his hands.

“I think your hands are clean enough,” I chuckle but he continues washing them, his eyes don’t leave his hands.

“Chris,” I say and notice he’s not even paying attention to me.

“Chris!” I say firmer and nudge him. His head snaps up at me.

“My bad,” he says turning off the water. He turns towards me and kisses me on the lips. It’s soft and sweet at first but then he starts grabbing my ass and backs me against the counter and lifts me on it. I push him away.

“Cal!?” I ask him frantically and he scoffs at me.

“Nope. I just always wanted to make out in the kitchen,” he shrugs.

“Your parents are right in the other room with our daughter,” I laugh and he grins at me, leaving me on the counter top extremely confused. I try to gather my thoughts when Aidan knocks at the kitchen door. I jump off the counter and open it. He’s standing there with his hands on his knees as if he ran all the way here.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, and he nods catching his breath.

“I-is Chris here yet?” he manages to pant out.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” I ask him hesitantly.

“She told him. Has he gone crazy yet?” he asks.

“Uh no. He’s sitting at the table with his parents,” I tell him and Aidan’s eyes widen.

“What happened?” I ask him firmly.

“Aidan sweetie. You’re just in time for dinner. Come join us,” Mrs. Scott says as she gestures toward the dining room.

“Come on before the food gets cold,” she says adamantly. We follow her from the kitchen. I glance back at Aidan for some type of hint about what is happening but he doesn’t give me any. His anxious energy doesn’t make me feel good.

“Aidan, I’m so glad you’re here. I know you wouldn’t want to miss this,” Chris says playfully, but something is off.

Really off.

“Can I talk to you a minute Chris?”

“Sure. After dinner,” he says.

Dinner started off weird but as it goes on everything seems fine, perfect actually. The food is great as always. Chris and his parents tell us stories about them over the years. Except whenever they pull Aidan into a conversation his answers are short and he stays unusually quiet.

“Is everyone done? I’ll gather the plates. Would anyone like some wine?” Mrs. Scott says, standing up from her seat.

“Oh no, mom, sit down for a minute. I’ve got a story everyone is going to love. We’ll see if you all remember it,” Chris says happily. I can’t help but notice Aidan’s put his head down.

“Here we go,” Aidan mutters.

“So this was about...I can’t even say how many years ago. I think about nine or ten actually. God doesn’t time fly?” he starts, and I can’t help but notice how animated he is.

“Well, anyway. You went out of town to visit Aunt Clara,” he says, turning towards his mom, “and I was staying at Shawn Clarkson's house to help him set up for his sister's sweet sixteen. I kind of had a crush on her back then.” He laughs and Gwen does the same but I notice Mr. Scott is sitting perfectly still, the color has almost has drained from his face.

“I had come home because Shawn's stereo went out and I came to get mine and I walked in on Dad fucking Lisa.”

Oh shit!

The room is silent. Dead silent while everyone processes what the hell Chris just said. Is this a joke?

“What?” Gwen says breaking the silence. Chris begins to laugh.

“What did you just say Chris?” she says, grabbing his arm.

“Oh yeah mom. I completely forgot about it. It just so happened around that time is when Cal came about,” he turns his body towards his dad.

“What do you think Dad? You think it’s a correlation between me walking in on you banging my best friend in our house and me dissociating?” he asks sarcastically.

“Chris. I can explain,” Mr. Scott says.

“Yes let’s explain,” he laughs.

“I think this is your answer to why Dad hates Cal so fucking much. Because he held information that could potentially destroy his family,” he says matter-of-factly.

“William, tell me this isn’t true,” Mrs. Scott demands. She’s not crying or upset, she seems in complete shock.

“Lauren and Aidan, could you please excuse us?” Mr. Scott says and Aidan and I practically jump out of our seats.

“NO!” Chris roars.

“No more secrets, no more lies. Let’s put it all out there for everyone to see. I haven’t even got to the best part of the story yet,” he says angrily.

“Explain how fucking selfish you were for delaying or really sabotaging my treatment because you were so fucking scared that if I integrated that I’d remember everything!” Chris says angrily. I look over to Mrs. Scott who now has tears coming out of her eyes.

“William, how could you?” Mrs. Scott whimpers.

“It wasn’t like that Gwen. I swear to you,” Mr. Scott says, standing from the table. He tries to walk towards her but Chris jumps in his path.

“No, don’t go near my mom!” Chris says blocking him.

“Tell her how many times you fucked her. That it wasn’t just a one-time deal, that you screwed her enough to knock her up!”

“Oh my God,” I can’t help but mutter. Everyone one in the room, including Mr. Scott himself looks caught off guard by that.

“What?!” Mr. Scott says confused.

“Yup, I guess you kept on screwing her long after I found out because she had your kid when she was 19. You have a fucking seven year old daughter. Her name's Willa. How sweet is that?” he says viciously. I look over at Mrs. Scott who has gotten up from her seat and ran out of the room. Mr. Scott pushes past Chris and follows her.

“Our dinners are always the best aren’t they?” he laughs. Aidan shakes his head.

“That wasn’t the way to do that man,” Aidan says disdainfully.

“Oh, well, tell me Aidan. How should I have confronted my dad about screwing my best friend?” he asks him angrily.

“Who are you? Because if you are Chris that was a real jack ass thing to do,” Aidan says leaving the room.

“How has this turned into my fault?” he shouts angrily. I pick up Caylen and walk over to him.

“I know you’re hurting right now. I can’t imagine how you must feel. But how you handled this. It doesn’t seem like you,” I tell him and he frowns.

“I’m not hurting, I’m mad. I’m angry, I’m fucking furious! He deserved that!” he says, his expression hard and cold. I nod.

“I’m not saying that he didn’t. But you were so busy trying to stick it to him, you didn’t notice how much your mom was hurting. Each jab you made at him cut through her,” I say, trying to get through to him. He doesn’t look at me.

“When you really need someone to talk about this. I’m here,” I tell him, handing him Caylen. I’m not sure if he’s Cal or Chris but whoever he is he won’t disappear if he has her with him and after that I need to sleep. This was just too much.

*

I WAKE UP AND glance at my phone. It’s 2:30 am. I head upstairs to Chris' room to make sure he’s okay with Caylen. Once I make it upstairs I see Mr. Scott sitting outside of his room door, his head in his hands. I turn back around to head downstairs.

“Lauren,” he calls to me. I stop and walk back towards him. He looks terrible. Dry tear stains down his cheek. His hair’s a mess, I can’t help but a part of me feels sorry for him.

“I know you must think I’m the lowest person on earth. After how I treated you and hearing about all this,” he says. I stand quietly not knowing what to say.

“I am the dumbest man on the planet,” he laughs at himself and starts to cry. I don’t know what to do. I wasn’t expecting to run into him.

“She’s never going to forgive me,” he whimpers. Oh this is so awkward.

“It could be worse. Cal could be back,” I joke, trying to cheer him up. He chuckles.

“That’s the worst part about this. That was Chris in there today. I made Chris like that,” he says shaking his head.

“I destroyed my family, more than Cal ever could,” he continues.

“I blamed him for my own stupidity. For the mistakes I made. I took it out on him. I hated him because he saw what I did and held it over me, and I was too much of a coward to tell my wife the truth,” he continues.

“Can you talk to her?” he says desperately.

“I-I she probably needs time alone,” I tell him.

“No, she shouldn’t be alone. She won’t speak to me. This has to be eating her up!” He stands up and takes my hand.

“Tell her how sorry I am and how much I love her. That Lisa and I was the biggest mistake of my life and I was going through some crazy midlife crisis. I never loved anyone as much as I love Gwen. Please tell her,” he begs me, ushering me to the door.

“But how would I get in?” I ask him frantically.

“It’s not locked. She says she doesn’t want to see me and I’m respecting her wishes. I can hear her crying. She’s not asleep. Please be there for her.” I nod, willing to do anything to get away from him. His despair and desperation is heavy in the air. I reluctantly turn the knob of their bedroom and it opens like he says. I give a weak smile as I go in and close it.

“Mrs. Scott,” I call quietly. I see the light in their master bedroom open. I walk in and see Mrs. Scott sitting on the floor, her back resting up against their tub. She’s not crying, but she looks in a daze.

“I-I hope I’m not bothering you,” I say. She glances up at me and gives me a small smile.

“William asked you to come in here didn’t he?” she asks. Her voice is dry and crackly. She must have been crying for hours.

“Yeah,” I say, not knowing if I should smile or cry with her. I can do either seeing how different she looks. Like she’s aged five years.

“I-I could go out if you want to be alone,” I say quietly and she shakes her head so I sit down on the toilet top. She’s quiet for a long time.

“I spent so much time in this bathroom when I was sick,” she says after a couple of minutes.

“The chemo made me feel so terrible,” she continues.

“I came in here to try to hide how sick it made me. I knew how much it hurt them to see me hurting,” she says, clearing her throat.

“I literally wanted to die. I really did. Every single day, I was so sick of being sick,” she says tightly holding her head.

“But I held on. I fought, and I fought because I knew if I did die they would never be the same, that they couldn’t handle life without me. I didn’t want to leave my family in disarray. I asked God to just make me stronger and better even if it was just long enough to make Chris love his dad again, how he used to,” she says and her voice caves in at the last part.

“I know when the affair started,” she shakes her head.

“William, he was happy. Happier than he had been in such a long time,” she laughs buts it’s bitter and looks like it hurts her.

“He had been going through some type of … only thing I could call it is a mid-life crisis. He hadn’t been himself. Withdrawn, he kept saying he didn’t feel accomplished. He wasn’t happy and I tried everything to get him to be happy but I couldn’t break through the wall he put up. He had been like that for months, and then one day out of the blue the funk was over. He was back to the man I knew and loved,” she sighs and tears fill her eyes again.

“I thought it was because of something I had done. That he had fallen in love with me again but all along he was happy because he was sleeping with someone the same age as our son,” she starts to cry.

“It makes me sick. They did it in our house. Our house, Lauren. How could they do that?” she says, crying harder.

“I let her sleep in my home, I taught her how to cook. Oh God, she asked me advice about boys,” she shakes her head.

“How stupid had I been? All of that time she was wearing her little shorts and midriff tops I thought she was flaunting herself to get Chris’ attention, and she was after my husband. She had an affair with my husband,” she says, hitting her lap. I get up and crouch down and hug her. Tight and long, she hugs me back.

“I couldn’t have children Lauren. I could never give him a child,” she cries into my shoulder.

“They broke my baby, Lauren, and made their own. I can’t forgive them for that. I can’t,” she says, squeezing me harder.

chapter 17

Lauren

WE LEFT THE DAY after the bomb was dropped. Mrs. Scott left before us, headed to her sister’s. She’s not sure what she’s ultimately going to do but she says she can’t stay in that house with Mr. Scott any longer. We offered for her to come to Chicago with us whenever she wants. She says she would take us up on the offer. Well, it wasn’t really us that made the offer to be honest, it was me.

Chris.

I don’t even feel right calling him Chris anymore, because he’s different. That night he found out everything from Lisa he was so angry and acted completely out of character but I’d prefer that to whoever he is now. He’s withdrawn, quiet and moody.

Just a shell of himself.

When I heard Lisa’s secret I knew things were about to get bad, but the moment the words left his mouth, that he has a little sister, there are no words for that. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle when we were already stationed so far underground, but it's how he’s been acting that I didn’t expect. We’ve been in Chicago for three weeks and he hasn’t cried, he doesn’t laugh, he barely speaks. He’s like a droid drained of any personality whatsoever. The only time I see a hint of himself is when he plays with Caylen. I see a flicker of joy, a moment of happiness every now and then, but besides that, nothing. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, not even his mom. She calls every day to check on him and he just sits on the phone giving one or two word answers. Everyone else he’s shut out completely.

It’s expected that he won’t speak to his dad or Lisa. They both call several times a day. Not together, well as far as I know. I told his dad he needs time. Probably a whole of time. Lisa, well I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t think that’s a relationship that’s ever going to be the way it was. He won’t even speak to Aidan either, he barely speaks to me. The only familiar thing he does is play his guitar, and he stays on my iPad, which is little strange since he’s never really been into electronics. Every single day for hours and it’s beyond annoying.

“He’s been like a zombie and I have no idea what to do. I can’t tell him I know how he feels, that everything will be okay. His dad cheated on his mother with his best friend who she has a secret child by. Is that something you can get over? His family is destroyed. Now when I look at him I don’t see Chris or Cal,” I tell Helen. She’s been out of town since I arrived back in Chicago and it feels so good to be able to talk to her now.

“…and this may sound crazy, but whenever I leave the house I get this weird feeling that I’m being followed,” I tell her, laughing at the absurdity of it. “I think I may be starting to lose my mind,” I say, taking a sip of my coffee from the bistro in our building lobby.

“You’re not going crazy, Lauren. You have been under a lot of pressure and I commend you for holding up so well,” she says, squeezing my hand.

“What’s wrong with him? If Cal is his alter and helps him when these things happen, where is he?” I ask frantically.

“I believe that Christopher has shut himself down emotionally. He has dissociated himself from reality entirely. He’s locked Cal out. This is what I say when I mean that Cal and Chris are one. Even when Cal isn’t at the forefront of his conscious state he is always with Chris subconsciously. There cannot be a Chris without Cal, Cal without Chris. They both make up the man that you know and love,” she explains and I let out a deep breath.

“So what do we do? How do we fix them? He can’t be like this forever can he?” I ask anxiously.

“I need to see how far gone he is,” she replies.

“He told me he didn’t want to see or talk to anyone,” I tell her.

“If he’s not exhibiting any emotions then he won't exhibit anger, annoyance or frustration,” Helen retorts.

*

WHEN WE WALK IN, Chris barely glances up us. His eyes remain on the TV that’s been stationed on Nick Jr. since I left.

“Hey babe,” I say cheerfully. He doesn’t say anything, as per usual, only slightly nodding.

“Christopher, it’s so good to see you,” Helen says enthusiastically. When he doesn’t reply she picks up Caylen.

“Hi beautiful. I’ve missed you so,” she squats, kissing Caylen on the cheek.

“She looks so much like you, Christopher,” Helen says standing in front of him. He doesn’t say anything.

“I am sorry about what happened with your parents,” she offers, sitting next to him. He glances over at me before staring back at the television.

“I told you I don’t want to talk to anyone,” he says, his tone the same monotone it’s been since we stepped foot in our house. It hasn’t lowered or risen since.

“Lauren told me that but I knew that you’d make an exception for me,” Helen says playfully.

“What do you want Dr. Lyce,” he asks stoically.

“I came to see how you’re doing. If there was anything I could do to help you.”

“I don’t need any help I’ve never felt better. I’m completely fine,” he says, grabbing the remote beside him and turning the channel. The patience I’ve been holding on to these past two weeks is starting to wear thin.

“You’re not fine Chris!” I interject. Frustration outweighing the patience I’ve been holding on to by a thread since he’s been acting like this. He briefly glances at me but doesn’t say anything. Helen shoots me a warning glare and I let out a sigh as I sit on the couch opposite from them.

“How do you like Chicago?” she asks, changing the subject.

“It’s fine,” he says.

“Is there anything that you miss about being home?”

“This is my home now,” he says without missing a beat.

“Are you happy Chris? Does being with Lauren and Caylen make you happy?” she asks, and this is one question I’d love to hear the answer to.

“I don’t want to talk about them with you,” he says, getting up from the couch and walking to the kitchen. I follow behind him.

“Well, talk to me about it. Are you happy here, with us?” I ask him as he searches through the refrigerator almost like I’m not here. Since that night he treats me like a piece of furniture or something.

“I’m here,” he says casually.

“Are you?” I ask him, looking into his eyes. I wave a hand in front of him and he just steps around me and heads back to his seat in front of the television with his soda in hand. I shake my head and laugh at myself.

“Helen I’m not going to talk to you. You can go ahead and leave whenever you’re ready,” he says in that same indifferent tone that is making me want to scream.

“I’d like for her stay,” I say, annoyed.

“Whatever,” he says and takes a swig of his drink. He then sits next to Caylen on the floor and starts playing with her and her blocks.

“Lauren, I need to be going but I’m going to run and grab something from my car I have for you first,” she says getting up and walking to the door.

“Do you want me to come with you?” I ask her with a sigh.

“No it’ll only take a minute,” she says before leaving. I sit down back on the couch my arms folded as I watch him live in a world that no one else is a part of. That he won’t let me be a part of. At least he interacts with Caylen.

“I wish that you would talk to me,” I say aloud.

“I do talk to you,” he answers promptly. Which he makes sure to do, but he only answers when I ask him something, it’s like trying to bounce a stone off a brick wall.

“You respond to me. You don’t talk.”

“I didn’t know there was a difference,” he says, his attention on the wall he’s building with the little blocks Caylen plays with. He has enough walls up, if she wasn’t over there I’d go and kick it down. I’ve tried being patient, understanding and meek but I am at the end of my freakin’ rope with him. He can’t think that I’m going to live like this, with a robot, that’s what he’s acting like. He gets up he showers, eats, cooks, plays with Caylen, watches TV and plays his guitar, which he won’t even play in front of me. He goes in the guest room and plays and plays. He goes to sleep in the same bed with me but he doesn’t touch me, we’re in a humongous king bed but we might has well have those little twins they show on the old TV shows—that's how far apart we are. I could live with Chris, I could live with Cal but whoever this is, I can’t do this. I thought Helen could help, but how can she help if he refuses to talk to her. A few minutes later my phone vibrates. Helen says to meet her down at the café.

“I’ll be back,” I tell him, grabbing my keys.

“Yup,” is his only response, he doesn’t even look up at me. It’s not unexpected but still makes me want to scream. When I make it down to the lobby café, Helen is standing outside of it.

“You see what I’m talking about?” I say when I reach her.

“I do. It’s not completely unexpected with everything that’s happened. He doesn’t talk to you at all?” she asks.

“About as much as you saw up there. He’s shut me out completely,” I shrug, trying to not show how much it hurts me.

“You have to understand that Chris had a strong moral compass that he anchored based on his family. He and his father had a very close relationship. He was his role model, his values, his beliefs all stemmed from that relationship. The person he built himself to be was on that foundation and now, that structure has broken. Everything he knows or once believed is questionable for him,” she explains.

“So everything he believed about, family, loyalty…love, he doesn’t believe in anymore?” I ask, commanding myself not to cry. Helen gives me a sympathetic smile.

“It’s just all questionable for him right now. However, he is here, with you and Caylen. That says a lot,” she says squeezing my shoulder.

I let out a deep sigh.

“So what do I do?” I ask, in need of some sort of direction because right now I don’t know which way to turn.

“What have you been doing since he’s been like this?”

“I-I haven’t done anything. I’ve been trying to give him time. I thought after a while he’d just snap out of it, but next week will make a month of him being like this. I just didn’t want to make things worse.”

“We need Chris to feel again. For him to let his emotions back in.”

“And how do I do that?”

“You were able to get Chris and Cal to fall in love with you once. It shouldn’t be hard to make them remember why,” she says, giving me a reassuring smile. I chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’m really up for that again,” I tell her honestly.

“Well. Emotions are intertwined, happiness, joy, sadness, anger. Make him feel one, the others can seep through.”

*

WHEN I GET BACK upstairs to our apartment, nothing's changed, of course. Not that I expected something would, but in my life recently things could flip in the blink of an eye. Make him feel something, she says.

Yeah that’s going to be easy.

“I was thinking we could go to dinner tonight. There are so many amazing restaurants here,” I tell him. He glances over at me.

“Whatever you want,” he shrugs. I let out a deep frustrated breath and head into my bedroom. I pick up my phone and call Angela. Last week she finished her thesis and went on vacation to the Bahamas to celebrate.

“Hey hon!” she says enthusiastically.

“Hi. What are you up to?” I ask her innocently.

“Nothing much, I’ve been watching a marathon of Snapped mostly,” she chuckles.

“A whole marathon? Isn’t that kind of depressing?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” she admits.

“Well, I have the perfect way to bring some sunshine into your life,” I laugh.

“And how would you do that?” she says cautiously.

“By getting Caylen for the weekend,” I say optimistically.

“Really? Of course I can. What do you have planned…How are things, is he still acting like he’s from The Walking Dead?”

“Pretty much. I talked to Helen though and she says that I should try to snap him out of it in so many words,”

“And how are you supposed to do that?” she chuckles.

“I have a couple of ideas, but as long as Caylen is here I don’t know how well I can implement them,” I admit.

“Hmmm. You must tell me how this goes,” she chuckles. “Anyhow. Yeah I’m in for the weekend. You can bring her whenever you’re ready.”

“Great. I’ll be over in like an hour and a half if that’s okay.”

*

AFTER I’VE PACKED UP Caylen’s things for the weekend I scoop her in my arms off the living room floor. Chris looks at me curiously as I get her dressed, but doesn’t say anything.

“Are you excited to stay with Aunt Angie this weekend Princess?” I ask Caylen. I glance over at Chris. He rises from his seat and walks toward us. He kisses Caylen on the forehead and heads upstairs. I don’t even have to guess. When I get back he’ll be in the guest room playing his guitar with the door shut. It only takes me about fifteen minutes to make it over to Angela’s. When we arrive she quickly buzzes us and I make the trek up the stairs to her apartment.

“Hi Princess!!” she squeals in excitement, taking Caylen from my arms.

“What’s up Mama?” she says, all of her attention on Caylen.

“I need to start back working out. Your stairs almost killed me,” I say, catching my breath.

“Are you ready for fun with Auntie Angie?” she coos, taking off Caylen’s coat.

“She should be asleep in the next hour or so,” I tell her.

“No worries, if she’s not I have a whole night of fun things planned for us. Now what about you and the hubby?” she asks playfully.

“I am going to try to break him out of this trance that he’s fallen into,” I shrug.

“I really miss him. I miss both of them as crazy as it sounds,” I chuckle.

“They or he? He’s in there, Lauren. If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be sitting at home with you and Caylen,” she says taking a seat on her sofa and patting the cushion next to her. I plop down next to her and watch as she switches the TV from Lifetime to Nick Jr.

“I thought for some reason knowing whatever happened that caused his condition would make things better, instead it made things worse.”

“One of the things that’s interesting about DID is how it’s a mechanism with coping with, tragedy, pain, loss. When you think about it, we all dissociate when we don’t want to feel. We deflect. Now we don’t necessarily do it to the extent of those who have the disorder but when you think about it we’re all searching for a form of it, whether it’s drinking, using drugs or even shopping.”

“I guess you’re right,” I say, mulling over her words.

*

WHEN I MAKE IT HOME, the living room is as empty as I expected it to be. As I head up the stairs, sure enough I can hear the sound of the guitar being played. I stand next to the door and listen for a couple of minutes, trying to figure out my next move.

“Make him feel something,” I say softly, reminding myself of Helen’s words. I have been doing the exact opposite since we arrived. I open the door and he stops playing.

“You don’t have to stop on my account,” I tell him playfully.

“I was finishing up anyway,” he says as he starts to put the guitar away.

“I wish you wouldn’t treat me like this,” I tell him, stepping in front of him.

“How am I treating you?” he asks, closing up his guitar case.

“Like I’m a stranger, or a roommate you tolerate. I know you’re hurting, I just wish you’d let me help you. That you’d let me in,” I tell him, grabbing his hand.

“I’m not hurting. Everything is fi-,”

“Everything is not fine! Stop saying that. You are walking around like a zombie! I don’t even know who you are, anymore” I plead with him.

“Well that makes two of us,” he says, walking past me and heading downstairs.

I follow behind him.

“So that’s it. You’re going to be like this forever? Not talking, keeping everything bottled up, acting like I don’t exist?” I ask him angrily.

“You’re going to let him ruin everything? Stop living your life based on a mistake he made. How can you let anyone have that much power over you?” I shout at him and he stops in his tracks and turns to face me.

She said to make him feel something.

Well here goes.

“Cal would never let him do that. He’d never let anyone else’s actions dictate his life or the decisions that he makes,” I say tightly, meeting his stare, which has gone from indifferent to intense in the span of a sentence. His eyes squint at me.

“You don’t think he would, do you?” he says, a smug grin on his face.

“No.” I tell him adamantly.

He chuckles as if he’s in on a joke I’m not aware of.

“So you laugh now?” I ask him sarcastically.

“As much as he’s done, you still think he’s noble, that he can do no wrong,” he says, shaking his head.

“Don’t you get it? He’s not the hero in this. He doesn’t come out to save us,” he says dismissively.

“Well, right now, you for sure aren’t the hero,” I retort back at him. I see his eye twitch and he turns away from me.

Is it working? I don’t know, but at least that tone and stoic expression that’s been on his face for the past month has changed. He turns back around, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Do you want to know why he was in Venitan?” he asks, stepping closer to me.

“He told me that his biological parents lived in the area,” I say quietly.

“Did he tell you that he was looking for Clayton?” he asks sarcastically.

“If that’s his dad, why wouldn’t he want to find him?” I retort back.

“Did he tell you he wants to kill him?” he says casually, making my heart drop into my stomach.

“W-what?”

“And when I say that, I don’t mean like an arbitrary threat. I mean he’s hired people to track him down. That he’s kidnapped men he thought were him, and he is dead set on finding him and murdering him,” he says tightly.

“So you see when I sit here quietly and appear to be in my thoughts, it’s not just because William had sexual intercourse with my Lisa. It’s not because I want to appear anti-social, it’s because I am trying my absolute hardest, to maintain control in one of the most trying times of my life so your beloved Cal doesn’t come out and kill someone and get me sent prison!”

His words keep echoing in my head, blood is rushing through my ears. Is it true? Is this for real?

“Cal wants to kill someone?” I ask him in disbelief. He scoffs at me. Since when does Chris scoff at me? He laughs dismissively and walks into our bedroom. I try to collect my thoughts. I think back when Cal and I were in bed together and how he talked about his mom and dad but he didn’t say he wanted to kill his dad. I feel like I’m about to throw up. I go into the bathroom, splash water on my face, and take a deep breath. I gather my nerves up and go into our bedroom. He’s sitting there, the television is on the news.

“You’re not Chris are you?” I ask him hesitantly.

He looks towards the ceiling.

“How intuitive of you,” he says dryly. My heart starts to beat faster. The moment he started referring to his dad as William I knew something was off.

Another one? A fucking other one?

I hold my head in my hand and sit on the bed. This is crazy. So crazy. I remember reading that most people who have DID have more than one alter.

“And who are you exactly?” I mumble, rubbing my temples.

“You don’t have to give me a name but if you must, you can refer to me as Collin. I’m not an attention whore like my counterpart Cal is,” he says, his posture changing in the span of his sentence. He’s sitting upright and even has a slightly different accent.

“How long have you been here?” I ask him.

“It depends on what you mean,” he says simply. Then he turns towards me.

“I am always here. I have been transitioning in and out when Chris needed me since he spoke to Lisa. However if you mean when I came to the forefront completely would be just a few minutes ago when you tried to trigger Calvin,” he answers.

“However, in actuality I am always there. We all are.”

“We? Oh Jesus,” I say, covering my face in my hands.

“How many are there of you?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“I won’t worry you with those details,” he says, walking over to our closet. He opens it and sighs.

“Calvin isn’t one of my favorite people, but I must say I prefer his style of dress than Chris’. If you don’t mind, since you’re aware of the situation, can I be free from these off the rack jeans and department store t-shirts?” he asks.

“I don’t care what you put on. Why did you come instead of Cal?” I ask, watching him as he sifts through the boxes of Cal’s clothes packed in the closets.

“Calvin is the most dominant part of us. He can execute more control in most cases. Christopher lets him do so. However, with Christopher having checked out, so to speak, and you goading him as you just did, Cal was very close to gaining control, which at this moment is not in the best interest of any of us,” he says

“We can peacefully co-exist if all of our agendas are aligned,” he says.

“What do you mean, Integration”?

“If that’s what you’d like to call it. Prior to Christopher falling in love their agenda’s clashed. You have made it where they share a commonality. Christopher finding out about William sent him into a bit of a shock, again which would have allowed Calvin to transition as you all like to call it. However, Calvin's urge to kill Clayton will not work for any of us. It would destroy Christopher and none of us are interested in seeing if prison is like what they show on TV.”

I look at him, his mannerism, his expression, everything about him is so different. He seems to be a lot more sophisticated than Chris and Cal. He actually reminds me a little of Dexter.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Lauren?” he asks, with a knowing grin.

“How much do you remember?” I ask him, skeptically.

“I know everything,” he says with a quick smile.

“Everything?” I ask him.

“Everything,” he says with a wide smile.

“Chris doesn’t know everything. Does Cal?”

“Calvin thinks he does, there-in lies the problem,” he says once he’s completely dressed. He’s wearing a suit of Cal’s but it looks so different on him the way he put everything together.

“And are you going to tell me everything?” I ask him hesitantly. He walks towards me and smiles.

“I am going to help you Lauren. However, there are a few things I’ll need you to assist me with, and tonight it will require you in a nice dress and your hair to be a tad more presentable,” he says before heading into our bathroom.

“Oh, and if you can go into the guestroom and get those pills Christopher has in his guitar case and toss them out, that would be fantastic.”

“Pills?” I ask in disbelief.

“Yes some experimental drug that Dexter convinced Christopher would get rid of Calvin. All it does is make us queasy and it's hard to sleep,”

“Dexter gave Chris pills? Why would he do that? I thought…”

“Remember Lauren, everyone has an agenda. No matter how much they pretend not to,” he says before closing the bathroom door.

Is this really happening?

*

WHEN WE PULL UP to a valet with half a million dollar cars in front of us I wonder where exactly Collin has taken me and if maybe I should text someone and let them know what’s going on. I don’t know anything about this side of my husband, a side that grooms his hair perfectly. He seems harmless enough and has been more forthcoming than Cal ever has, but he hasn’t told me where we are or why we’re here. We walk into the beautiful completely filled lounge and the maître de greets us.

“Do you have a reservation?” she asks.

“I am a party of Dexter Crestfield’s,” he says confidently. She takes a moment to look at her screen and in a moment she smiles brightly. She calls to another waitress.

“Can you show them to Mr. Crestfield’s area,” she says. We follow behind the waitress and Collin puts his hand behind my back. Ushering me forward.

“What are we doing here?” I ask him. This place doesn’t look like Dexter and Helen’s style. When we’ve dined with them it’s been at more modern exclusive places. This place, while very upscale, seems a bit mature for them. When we reach the private area my knees almost buckle.

It’s Dexter Crestfield Sr. He looks over at us curiously before a wide smile spreads across his face and he gives a signal for the two very intimidating security guards to let us in. Collin starts to move forward but my legs won’t.

“What’s wrong?” he asks simply.

“I-I don’t like being around this guy. What are we doing here?” I ask tightly.

“If you want me to help you, you help me,” he says, pulling me forward.

“Lauren, how nice to see you again,” he says, standing as the man seated with him at his table does the same.

“Senator Garvin this is my lovely granddaughter,” he says enthusiastically.

“She is quite stunning,” the senator says, looking as if I was brought in on a tray for dessert. His date, who looks young enough to be my little sister, shifts in her seat as she glances over me.

Relax, I am not your competition.

I haven’t been in a dress in a while and I pull down the short white cocktail dress Collin insisted I wear.

“Senator, if it’s not too much of an inconvenience, can you and your guest excuse us? We have an immediate private family matter that we need to discuss,” Collin interjects. Mr. Crestfield's eyebrow raises as he eyes Collin, but without missing a beat he turns to the senator and his companion.

“If you could excuse us for just a few moments?”

“Of course,” the senator says as he and his date leave the table.

“Now, who is it accompanying you tonight?” Mr. Crestfield says, eyeing me.

“Honey, take a seat,” Collin says, pulling out my seat. I take it and Collin does the same.

“We haven’t met before, how would you like me to refer to you. Mr. Crestfield?” Collin says sarcastically.

“Is this a joke?” he says, looking at me. I focus my eyes on the table.

“No, this is farce. My name is Collin and, unlike Christopher and Calvin, I remember everything,” he says smugly. Mr. Crestfield takes a sip of what looks like brandy and sits it down, appearing unfazed even though my stomach is doing flips.

“What is it that you want?” he asks.

“I want what’s owed to us. A third of Crestfield Corporation,” he says, folding his hands calmly.

“What?” I ask him, confused.

“I am sorry and what makes you think that you’re owed anything that I have?” Mr. Crestfield asks, amused.

“Would you really like to get into those details? Because I, for one, prefer not to repeat myself. Maybe we should have a reporter present for the conversation so everything is on record and there are no misunderstandings,” Collin says easily. He and Mr. Crestfield stare each other down for what seems like forever, all while my heart tries to jump out of my chest and make a run for it. I know that something big is being referred to that I have no idea about, and the way Collin just strode in and asked for a third of Crestfield Corporation makes me realize that he knows something he isn’t supposed to. Finally, Mr. Crestfield laughs. I glance over at Collin, whose face is like stone.

“I like you Collin. You remind me of a younger version of myself,” he says, taking another sip of his drink.

“I too took a lot of risks when I was younger, against men that were more powerful, richer and supposedly a lot smarter,” he says.

“Are you sure you want to travel down this rabbit hole with him. Mrs. Scott?” he says, his eyes now on me. No I don’t want to go down any freakin' rabbit hole! Even though it doesn’t matter now since my name might as well be Alice at this point.

“You talk to me. Only me,” Collin interrupts him.

“Okay Collin,” Mr. Crestfield says calmly. He makes a signal and a moment later a woman approaches the table.

“Could you bring me a pen and paper please,” he asks her.

“Right away Mr. Crestfield.” She’s back in an instant, handing Mr. Crestfield the items he requested and disappears right after.

“Would you like a drink darling? You look so nervous,” Mr. Crestfield chuckles.

“She’s fine. You have,” Collin looks at his watch, “about two minutes to give me your answer.”

Mr. Crestfield just smiles, scribbles something on the paper and then holds it out to Collin.

“What is this?” he asks, irritated as he looks at it. I look at it too. It’s an address.

“You may not be very interested in it but Cal is,” he says, smiling so widely you'd think he’d just won the lottery. A look of realization comes over Collin’s face. He stands up abruptly.

“Let’s go, Lauren,” he says, grabbing my arm, almost pulling me out of my chair and dragging me across the floor.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask him, tired of being clueless in all of this.

“It is Clayton’s Rice address,” Mr. Crestfield calls out. I look back at Mr. Crestfield, my eyes widening in horror. The grip Collin had on me has completely loosened. I look at his face, the taut expression that he’d worn before gone, relaxed and a smirk replaces it.

“Hey Gorgeous, you look especially sexy tonight.”

“Cal?” I ask, hesitantly afraid to hear the answer. Out of all the times for me to want him here, now is not one of them. He walks back over to the table where Mr. Crestfield sits, looking especially pleased with himself.

“It’s been a while Cal,” he says, a grin on his face.

“Yes it has. You are a lot easier to do business with than your son,” Cal says, happily snatching up the address on the table. I rush over to Cal and grab his arms.

“You cannot do this,” I tell him tightly. He rolls his eyes and sighs as he continues walking away from me.

“Mellissa, can you make sure that Mr. Scott’s car is brought around ASAP,” I hear Mr. Crestfield say.

“Cal, this will destroy you. You cannot do this. Cal!” I plead with him. He lifts me off my feet and kisses me, and puts me down

“It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry,” he says simply and gives me a wink. I try to keep up with him but it’s hard in these five inch heels. I stop to take them off as we’re near the entrance and as his luck may have it, our car is pulling up. He walks to the driver's side and hops in. When I run to open the door it’s locked. He lets the window down.

“I’ve got to do this babe. It’s all going to work out. I promise,” he says and pulls away. I throw my shoe on the ground and rush back into the restaurant to where Mr. Crestfield is.

“Tell me that was a fake address!” I say desperately.

“I have a dinner to finish, if you don’t mind my dear,” he says dismissively as his companions approach the table.

“You’re welcome to join us. However, I think you have more pressing matters to attend to,” he says condescendingly. How dare he? How the fuck dare he? Every bit of intimidation I felt has gone out the window. I pick up the glass of water in front of me and toss it in his face before quickly heading to the exit.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what the hell to do! I don’t know who to call, who I can trust. Dexter’s father just gave him the exact location of the man he wants to kill. I don’t know who can help me. I settle on calling his mom, who doesn’t pick up. I groan and call Mr. Scott.

“Lauren. I’m so glad you called,” he says hopefully. It’s funny how much he’s changed.

“Mr. Scott. Do you know anything about Cal’s birth parents?” I ask him desperately.

“What. Why are you asking that?” he stutters.

“Collin told me that Cal wants to kill his dad named Clay because he thinks he killed his mother, and we ended up meeting Mr. Crestfield and Collin asked for a third of his company and somehow he knew how to trigger Cal and I think he gave Cal this Clayton guy's address and I’m pretty sure he’s on his way there to kill him.”

“Wait, what? And who is Collin?”

chapter 18

Cal

I’VE BEEN WAITING ON this day for a long time. Dex never came through. I feel stupid that I never went directly to the real source. Dexter Sr.

When Chris pissed all over himself after finding out his daddy was screwing his so called best friend I knew my time was coming to take over, but when she told him she had a kid that was his sister, even I couldn't believe that shit, and good ol’ boy Chris just couldn’t take that blow. Unfortunately other greedy pussies stepped in, trying to keep me from claiming what’s mine.

I thought Collin was smarter than that. Asking for a third of Dexter Crestfield’s company. Fucking greedy dumbass. Chris’ weakness is his feelings, Collin's is he thinks he’s so much smarter than everyone else. My weakness is this mother fucker’s existence sitting tied up in front of me which I’m about to eliminate very soon. I like watching him squirm. I’m enjoying it a whole lot actually.

All of the time I spent looking for him and he was right under my nose. He lived just a few blocks from the house in Venitan. I knew I was close, I just didn’t know how close, and I really want to ring those fucking PI’s necks. I’m waiting for him to wake from the blow to the back of the head I gave him. When I saw him I couldn’t believe it. The man who causes the same fucking nightmare for me again and again. It’s all going to be over soon though. He’ll be dead, the little boy in my dream can have peace and the fucker that shot his mother right in front of him will be wiped off the earth.

Then I can live in peace with Lauren and Caylen and all will be well with the world.

After a long ass hour the bitch finally starts to stir. I pull off the bag on his head and his eyes widen, and the small thread of uncertainty that I grabbed the wrong guy is gone. I’ll never forget his eyes, I see them in my dream every night.

“What’s up, Pops? Remember me?” I laugh at him. I still have the tape on his mouth so he can’t speak but he shakes his head, as if the more he shakes it the better his chances are to make it out of here alive. Too bad for him, I don’t give a shit how he answers my questions—the only way he’s leaving this house is post mortem.

“I know you had a thousand little bastards running around but see me, I’m special. You remember my mother, Isabella?” I ask him sarcastically. The expression on his face now is priceless. He looks at me more closely and I can see the horror on his face as he recognizes he’s met his undertaker.

“Yeah. I think you do,” I nod.

“I bet you never expected to see me again did you?” I ask him.

“Then I was a helpless little boy, left crying in the pool of blood after you shot his fucking mother right in front of his face,” I growl at him. He shakes his head again and I can hear him straining to talk.

“Oh, oh it didn’t happen like that? You’re not the right guy?” I ask laughing and I hit him right on the mouth with the back of my 9 mm.

“Fucking liar. I re-live what happened every night. Every single night. I will never forget your face,” I growl at him, disgusted as I see tears pouring out his eyes. I stick the gun right between them.

“Don’t you fucking let one more tear come out or I will start by blowing off your fucking dick,”

“Cal!” I turn around and look back to see Lauren and fucking William Scott coming down the stairs. Stupid Chris and Dex, I forgot he was having me followed, traitor.

I point the gun at William. Lauren gasps.

“Cal what are you doing?”

“You know as much as I can’t stand Chris. I really do owe the guy. Maybe I should just do him a favor and kill your ass too,” I joke, but neither of them are laughing.

“Cal, put the gun down,” she pleads, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Why the hell are you crying, Lauren? This is going to fix everything!”

“He’s not going to shoot me, Lauren,” William says, way too calmly.

“Oh I won’t?” I laugh, aiming at his knee.

“No!” Lauren screams. Ugh. She’s ruining everything.

“Both of you get the fuck out!”

“You’re not going to shoot me or that guy in the chair because if you do your wife, the woman that you love, will never look at you the same.” Oh cue the violins.

“If anyone knows that it’s me, son. Gwen will never ever look at me the way she did before this happened,” he pleads. I glance over at Lauren who's crying and is looking at me like I’m the worst person in the world. I go over to Clay and smack him with the gun again.

“This is all your fault!”

“Cal! What do you remember from that night?” William yells.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you!” I shout at him.

“Don’t explain it to me. Explain it to Lauren,” he says. “Get her to understand why you have to do this.” I wonder what type of two bit reverse psychology he thinks he’s using. I really should shoot him in the fucking knee.

“Think Cal. What do you really remember?” she asks, sobbing. I let out a groan.

“He shot my mother, Lauren. Right in front of me, he left me there until someone found me,” I tell her.

“Who found you?” she asks. I start to answer her but, I-I can’t. I don’t remember.

“Does it matter who found me?” I ask, frustrated with all of this.

“How clearly do you remember that day Cal? You were five,” she pleads.

“When your mother gets shot in the fucking face in front of you, that’s not something you forget!” I shout back.

“Is that really what happened?” she asks quietly. Her voice has a way of calming my anger down and I hate it.

“I talked to Helen while we were on our way here,” she says, slowly approaching me.

“Lauren, stay over there,” I tell her but she continues approaching me.

“That is not how Chris or any of the other alters remember it,” she says.

“Why don’t you like to drink?” she says.

“What does that have to do with anything?” I tell her.

“You, the one who lives on the edge, and indulges in all of life’s pleasure doesn’t like to drink?” she says, and I feel myself growing impatient.

“Your mother used to drink. A lot,” she continues.

“What are you talking about Lauren?”

I look back at the son of a bitch Clay.

“What the hell is she talking about?” I snatch the tape off of his mouth and he gasps for air.

“Talk and talk fast,” I growl at him, the gun still at his face.

“She didn’t used to drink. Before you were born your mom was a CNA. She got a job through the welfare programs at this big hospital in the city. She was the happiest I had ever seen her. Our family was actually doing okay…”

“You’re on a time clock,” I say impatiently.

“A-after a few months there she started having a lot of extra money. She started having these fancy clothes and jewelry. I’m not the smartest man in the world but I knew that wasn’t coming out of her check. I knew something was going on but I never said anything. She was happy, we were happy. Then she got pregnant. She lost her job but she kept saying everything was going to be okay. That we would be taken care of. After you were born whatever she was waiting on never came through. She got real depressed, started drinking a whole lot, she was only sober half the time,”

“You’re lying,” I growl at him, releasing the safety on the gun

“Listen to him Cal!” Lauren screams at me, and poor Clayton starts to cry.

“Do you want to know how we adopted you?” William shouts.

“We had wanted a baby for so long. Everyone knew it, even my estranged stepfather! Dexter Crestfield Sr. brought you to our door. He told us that you were his illegitimate son whose mother killed herself.”

“You’re lying!” I shout.

“I’m not. Call Gwen. She’ll confirm it,” he says, ushering out his phone. I look over at Lauren.

“That’s why Collin asked for a third of his company. He remembers what you don’t. He knows you’re his son,” Lauren pleads.

No. No, fuck, no!

“Okay let's say you’re right. I’m Dexter Crestfield’s fucking son. This asshole found out and he shot her for it,” I yell at them.

“No. That’s not what happened,” Clayton says crying like a little girl.

“No Cal,” Lauren pleads. Think. Please try to think. I feel dizzy, my thoughts crash together and my vision blurs.

Instantly I’m back at the house, this time she’s alive. She’s drunk. My mom... I’m on the floor watching television. She’s yelling at someone on the phone.

‘You lied to me. You ruined my life. You promised you’d take care of us. I see your little ugly fucking kid whenever they show you on the news. How could you not love ours…you don’t love him, if you did you’d get me out of this hell hole….I don’t give a shit about a trust fund for him, we have to live now I won’t keep living like this!

I rub my temples, I feel my heart pounding.

She’s drinking more and more. She goes into her room. The two other kids and I are in front of the TV. I get up and open the door to her room. She’s sitting on the bed bawling.

I ask her what’s wrong.

“Nothing. I have a toy, you want to play with it?” she asks me. Her voice is so sweet and nice. It hardly ever is. I nod my head and she goes in a drawer and pulls out a gun. She kneels down on the floor in front of me. It’s heavy but she helps me hold it.

“We’re going to play a game. When I count to three, you’re going to pull this, okay,” she says showing me the trigger. She then aims it at her chest.

“One, two…”

I drop the gun out of my hand. “I killed her. I killed my mom,” my chest feels tight. I can’t breathe.

“Babe, it’s okay,” Lauren says, running over to me and hugging me. I’m crying so hard I’m shaking.

“It’s okay, babe. You were only a baby,” Lauren says rocking me like I’m a baby now. I killed my mother. I almost killed an innocent man because I was wrong. I killed her. I’m a murderer.

“I found you, in the bedroom. She called me right before it happened and told me everything. How she had an affair with Dexter Crestfield, that he promised to marry her and take care of her the rest of her life and he didn’t and that you were his son. She said she couldn’t live in squalor anymore. That you and your brothers and sisters were better off with her dead. I tried to get home as fast as I could. When I did it was too late. I figured out what had happened.” Clayton's voice explains but it doesn’t matter.

Everything I believed, that I held on to was a lie…

Except her.

She’s my truth.

Chris

IT SUCKS WHEN YOU have to be filled in on things that happen in your own life. When the transition finished Lauren and Dr. Lyce filled everything in for me. How it turns out I’m actually a Crestfield. It still makes me cringe to think about it.

How my birth mother was so sick she used me to kill her. Clayton, her husband, eventually told them she grew up Catholic and believed if she killed herself she’d go to hell. I wonder how much better off she thought she’d be having her five year old do it for her. Clayton also told us Isabella left a note with Dexter Sr. the day she killed herself. Clay called Dexter Sr. and told him what had happened. Dexter Sr. came and had everything, right down to the last detail, swept under the rug. Clayton says he told him family had always been important to him and he had to know his son was taken care of. Can you believe that? Dexter also gave him a pretty nice chunk of change as an incentive for him to disappear with my half brothers and sisters. Dexter had to keep everything quiet since at the time he was re-married and the pre-nup would be void if infidelity could be proved.

It made perfect sense for him to give me to my parents since my mom couldn’t have children, she couldn't care less what led to the mysterious circumstances of Dexter bringing a child to their door. My dad wanted to make her happy and Dexter purchased the land that they lived on, which they wouldn’t have been able to buy for years.

Collin, the other guy inside my head, it turns out had been popping up on occasions long before he made his presence known to Lauren. He was the one who told the Crestfields about Cal and how he needed their help when Cal surfaced and took over. The Scotts thought all along it was Cal who reached out to the Crestfields but it was actually Collin who was the one who took over after Cal’s break and started talking to Helen in these sessions I’ve had to take over for.

We’ve been in therapy the past few weeks. After everything happened with Cal trying to kill Clayton Rice I guess he needed a break because I woke up and Lauren had to explain everything that had happened. To think how many lies were hidden from both of us, and the fact that I have a whole other alter that not even my parents or Helen knew about. Therapy has been going okay. I still feel numb a lot, like a part of me is missing. Lauren is great, always there, supporting me each step of the way. My mom has been staying with us the past two weeks too. I’ve even talked to my dad one or two times. I’ll have to slowly try to build that relationship back, if it can be rebuilt. Helen’s recommended that I try to avoid anything that brings stress or anxiety to me and to try not to think about it until our sessions. I’ve started to have more memories of Lauren and me when Cal was in control. They’re not as frequent as they were but they’ve been coming back slowly but surely. Lauren comes to these sessions sometimes but Helen asked that today it just be me.

“Okay Christopher, before we begin I want to show you something,” Dr. Lyce says turning on the big television in her office.

“Are we watching another testimonial?” I ask her, trying to sound more interested than I am. At first it was interesting watching videos of other people with DID share what their experience has been like. The hardest part was listening to how their family members cope with it. So much sacrifice everyone has to make, it makes you feel guilty.

“Not today,” she says. And I look up and see myself on the screen.

“So, we on?” The moment I hear the voice I know it’s not me. It’s him. He lets out a deep sigh and sort of leans over his knees.

“It’s me. The guy you think made your life a living hell, right?” he laughs.

“Well if you think that you’re fucking delusional because without me, Caylen or Lauren wouldn’t be in your life. You’d probably be married to that stuck up bitch Jenna.”

“Cal, come on, you said you’d be nice,” I hear Helen’s voice in the background. He rolls his eyes and huffs.

“Okay, let me get straight to the point. I want to do right by Lauren. I-I left her once because I thought I was doing the right thing. I wanted her to have someone better than me,” he says solemnly.

“Well not better, because let’s be honest it doesn’t get any better than this, but more responsible, reliable who didn’t have the shitload of baggage we do,” he shrugs.

“I never wanted for Lauren to know you. It always seemed like everything in life came so easy for you. I thought you’d be easier for her to love than me,” he continues. It’s one thing for you to hear a recording of yourself and not recognize your voice or remember saying the words but to see it, to watch yourself, it hits you that this is real.

“Since I met her. Before I officially met her, I’ve been trying to fix things for her. Make things right, give her everything she deserves,” he sighs.

“She doesn’t deserve us fighting against each other. Telling her to pick and choose all the time. Confusing the hell out of Caylen when she gets older,” he shrugs.

“You are the responsible one. The selfless one. You could be a good dad. But God, sometimes you’re a fucking pussy man,” he says with a groan.

He’s such an asshole.

“I mean you are, and I can’t leave my girls with someone who acts like a pussy.”

“I want to give her something she always wanted. I sure as hell can’t do it by myself. But maybe both of us together, we can give her her Prince Charming,” he says.

“Helen and I have been talking and I’m starting to think maybe this integration thing won’t suck ass completely. So what do you say, Chris? You in, or you going to pussy out?” he asks cockily.

I don’t care what he says. I’m not a pussy.

Lauren

SIX MONTHS LATER…

A NEW START.

That’s what he asked for. I told him no, because I don’t think we need one. Our history wasn’t the best but it’s made us who we are. Each step of the way, though bumpy, has made us who we are today.

When he got on one knee and asked me to marry him again—that I agreed to.

We thought there was no better way to start it than renewing our vows on a beautiful July day on my Aunt Raven’s property. I glance over and smile at Aidan and Hillary who, as it turns out, had been secretly dating since they met at the disaster of a dinner party, at the Scotts. Raven sits proudly next to the man she’s been seeing, who may be walking down this same aisle next. Angela is next to her holding Caylen, whose hand is intertwined with Stephen's. It turns out that I was never his perfect girl but Angela seems to be. I look back at Mr. Scott who did the honor of walking me down the aisle.

It’s funny how time and life changing events can heal wounds. Well, some of them. He and Mrs. Scott are separated, they are working on their friendship even though Gwen plans on proceeding with a divorce. Mr. Scott is hoping she changes her mind. However, I can’t imagine how Gwen can since he’s actively involved in his daughter Willa’s life. I tried to get Lisa to come to the wedding but she respectfully declined. My husband still hasn’t forgiven her so it's probably for the best, even though he has warmed up quite a lot to Willa, who is our flower girl.

“Christopher Calvin Scott do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded bride to have and to hold as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” he says. Holding my hand he gives me a wink that still sends butterflies off in my stomach. He asks me the same thing and I nod enthusiastically with a smile as wide as a Cheshire cat.

“Yes,” I say simply.

*

“LAUREN WILL YOU DO me the honor of having this dance with me?” Dexter asks, extending his hand out to me.

“Of course Mr. Crestfield,” I say with a laugh as Helen laughs at me but urges me forward. The band is playing a slow but up-tempo song as we make our way onto the dance floor between my groom and Raven and Mr. Scott and Helen dancing.

“You know when Cal first told me about you, I was worried about him."

“I was harmless, you should have been worried about me,” I retort playfully.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to him,” he says, sincerely.

“Thank you Dexter. That means a lot coming from you. Thank you for everything as well,” I tell him. Then I notice my hubby has gotten up on stage with the guitar. Everyone around us stops dancing and looks at the stage.

“I’d like to dedicate this song, to my beautiful, amazing, smart and extremely sexy wife. Who, for some reason, agreed to get on this roller coaster with me again. This is for you babe,” he says looking me in the eye and beginning to play the song we first danced to all those nights ago in his apartment. You always hear the phrase fall in love all over again with someone. Before I met him I didn’t think it was possible, but I’ve fallen in love with him three times. Once when he called himself Cal, again when he called himself Chris and right now as he plays his heart out for me in front of everyone, keeping eye contact the entire time. When he’s done everyone applauds and catcalls. I start to make my way to the stage when Hillary grabs me and leans over in my ear.

“I know I’ve asked you this a thousand times but come on, you’ve got to tell me, which one is he? He’s got to be Cal, right? But you said Chris knew how to play the guitar, Cal didn’t?” she asks, and for the thousandth time I roll my eyes at her playfully.

“I told you he’s both,” I wink at her. Once I reach the stage he lifts a hand out for me and pulls me right up.

“I love you Mrs. Scott,” he grins at me.

“I love you more Mr. Scott,” I tell him before he pulls me into his arms. I kiss him with all that’s in me and he does the same. Some days I see more of Chris, others he’s more Cal like. Sometimes I even see bits of Collin strangely. Really I’ve learned they're all just titles to different facets of his personality, categories of his moods.

We dance right there on stage, surrounded by our family and friends. As we sway to the music I feel that familiar trace on my back. I glance up at him and he winks at me and I wink back. I love this man every day, every part of him, and I will for the rest of my life. My beautifully broken Prince Charming and I wouldn’t prefer him any other way.

The end.

Author’s Note

Hey, there! You reading this!

Thank you for sticking with me through the twists and turns, tears and laughs of the Scotts. These characters have been with me for almost ten years in the making. They sat stagnant for almost four years and Lauren haunted me every so often to give her an happy ending after I wrote the first draft of 'if I break' back in 2004. These characters have literally changed my life.

You all have changed my life. To think that I have had my dreams come true of telling stories for a living. I cannot say how grateful I am to you all and thank God each and every day for sending you all my way.

I hope you enjoyed Cal/Chris and Lauren's story. I wanted to end their journey the right way. I hope it met your expectations. Maybe in the future you’ll see them again. I am toying with the idea of writing Lisa’s story. Who knows, what do you think? Regardless, I hope you stick with me for all the other stories that play in my head. I do have one favor for you. If you enjoyed the book please take time to leave a review at whatever site you purchased on and/or Goodreads and don’t forget to tell a friend about the series & that the first book is free. I appreciate anyone who takes the time to do so. If you’d like to reach me I check my Facebook everyday so feel free to connect with me at facebook.com/portiamoorebooks. Or email me at portiacmoore@gmail.com.

Though this is a work of fiction DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder) is a very real disorder that affects thousands of people. If you’d like to learn more about it see my webpage here and scroll to the bottom for more information.

Until the next one.

God bless!

Portia XOXO.

portiamoore.com

Table of Contents

Contents

Copyright

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Author’s Note