She likes that about him. I sort of envy that. Envy that she likes that about him and that I’ve never been able to feel that way. I do care what people think, especially the people I love and care about, sometimes to a fault.
“The thing is I still don’t know if what I saw was real or a dream,” I say, reminding myself of why I even brought this up to her in the first place.
“Of course, I mean, how could you?” she says, matter-of-factly.
“There argument was at some type of event. I remember seeing a banner in the background. It said “Crestfield Cares.” There were grey and black balloons,” I say hesitantly.
She sits up and starts to think and shakes her head. “I don’t know, it could’ve been. We went to so many events for their company. Some I didn’t even go to,” she says apologetically. I guess I’m going to have to be more specific. I let out a sigh.
“You were there,” I admit, and she perks up a bit.
“The rest of everything was kind of hazy.” I smudge the truth. “But I remember you had on a grey dress, and he drove you somewhere near water after the party.” After a few seconds her eyes light up in recognition, and she grins. I can tell she’s fighting a wide smile.
“Yeah. I remember that night,” she says with a smirk. “It was a company party he took me to a couple of weeks before he proposed.” Her smirk turns into a full-on smile then she starts to blush.
Yup, she remembers that night.
“You don’t remember anything else?” she asks, looking at me, her expression a cross between suspicion and glee.
“It was all pretty hazy,” I say with a shrug. I get up from the table to check on the burgers. I open the oven and lean down so the heat can reach my face, an excuse for my own face changing color. The burgers and bacon are almost done. I motion her over to come look. She stands beside me, an accomplished smile on her face.
“It smells really good,” she says cheerfully. “High five,” she says lifting her hand, and I chuckle and slap hands with her.
Lauren and I are friends. There’s nothing friendlier than a high five.
Even after knowing that, I’m starting to remember, and I’m sure she has a suspicion that I remember more than I’m telling. She’s okay. She still knows our line. She doesn’t look at me longingly like she wishes I’d tell her I love her, or I want to be with her.
I was wrong.
She doesn’t want to hear that from me at all.
I’m happy.
I should be happy.
I tell myself I’m happy.
It doesn’t bother me at all that maybe she’s starting to distinguish that Cal and I are different. It’s what I wanted after all.
It’s a good thing.
That’s what I tell myself.
Even though I feel like crap.
HHH
I don’t know why I’m at Jenna’s house. It seemed like a good idea at the time. After cooking with Lauren, I felt like I needed to see her. I knew it was late, and she has to drive back to school in the morning. I need something to remind me why I shouldn’t be feeling how I am now. Why I feel off-balance, empty, and confused. Jenna is the woman I’ve known for the past two years, who’s been there for me through some of the toughest time in my life, the woman who I want to marry. Since all this happened, all we’ve done is argue or her toss ultimatums at me. I need to feel what I know we have. To remember because so many thoughts are being pushed in my head, it’s like our memories are being pushed behind everything else. I need them to come back to the forefront.
“I can go if you want me to. I know you have a lot to do tomorrow.” I’m sitting on the white and brown leather sofa in her living room. Jenna’s house was decorated right out of a home magazine, literally. The walls are beige with brown leather furniture. It’s modern/chic. That’s what Jenna tells me. It’s clean, just her books, notebooks, and laptops on the coffee table.
“No, I’m glad you’re here.” She covers the yawn trying to escape her mouth.
“You’re tired, it’s almost 11:00 I can come back” I tell her, getting off the couch and kissing her on the fore head.
She frowns. “No, it’s fine,” she says, pulling me back down on the couch. “What’s wrong?” She adjusts her sitting position so that she can look directly at me.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just miss you,” I say, pulling her on my lap. She smells good like she always does. Her hair’s down, but not perfectly straight and in place how it usually is.
I like it like this.
I run my hand through her hair, and she lets out a soft murmur.
“That feels good,” she says as my fingers drag down her back.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” she purrs before shifting her position. She has on a light blue robe she starts to take off revealing an oversized school t-shirt and boy shorts underneath.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something,” she says, her lips kissing my neck.
“What,” I ask while my hands creep under her shirt to take of her bra.
“I think you should move in here,” she whispers, and I go stiff. She leans back to see my face.
“I thought we’d agreed on waiting until after we were married and find a house,” I remind her.
“I know, but after everything that’s happened, it seems a little silly. I thought you coming over here showed you agreed with me about all of this waiting,” she says defensively.
“I don’t think this is the right time,” I say, and she slides off my lap.
“Why are we still waiting now, Chris?” she asks me, angrily tying up her robe.
“Because that’s what we agreed to do.”
“Before all of this came out, that’s what we agreed to do. It makes no sense now!” she says sharply. I should have known this was going to come up.
“What Cal and Lauren did has nothing to do with me.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Jenna shoots daggers at me with her eyes.
“I can’t believe you just said that,” she says in a low growl.
“We can’t even get married until you get divorced!” She starts to full-on shout. “We’ve been waiting for everything. Waiting to move in together, waiting to have sex, waiting, waiting and waiting! And now you’re waiting to ask your wife for a fucking divorce.”
I get up off the couch and start to head to the door. “I want us to do things the right way, Jenna. We’ve waited this long. Waiting until we’re official is important to me. That’s how my parents did it. That’s how I want to do it,” I tell her sternly.
“You know when we first talked about it, I thought it was cute. I thought it made sense that it would be special, us doing everything the traditional way even if it was a little old school, but now it’s just stupid. You’ve been married already, you have a baby! This waiting is bull shit!” she roars.
“No one waits to have sex and move in together anymore,” she continues.
“You’re right, they don’t. And most people don’t even make it three years before they’re divorced,” I fire back at her. Her eyes narrow in on mine. I feel my head starting to hurt. I start to rub my temples.
“I’m not taking no for an answer. Either you move in here by the end of the week or we’re done!”
“Then we’re done,” I say simply.
Jenna’s eyes widen and her mouth falls agape. “What?” she asks surprised.
“I said I’m not moving in with you. I’m not fucking you, and we’re going to do what we agreed on or… we’re done.” My voice is a low and stern. I don’t recognize it, but the words are exactly what I wanted to say, but they were NOT supposed to come out. Jenna’s face is red and she looks speechless. Since I’ve known her, she’s never been speechless. I walk over put my finger on her chin, and lift it up so she can look directly at me.
“The rules are about to change,’ I say and he looks confused her mouth parted open. I bring her mouth to mine kissing her roughly on the lips. I think she’s going to snatch away but she
doesn’t.
“Sweet dreams, Jenna,” I say as I turn and walk out the door.
When I’m in my truck, it finally hits me what just happened. I expect Jenna to run out on the porch screaming or blowing up my phone with obscenities, but nothing. I can’t believe that just happened, that I just said those things to Jenna and she didn’t say anything.
I’m embarrassed.
I should feel embarrassed.
It was terrifying but exhilarating.
The worst part is...
It felt good.
Chapter 8
Lauren
I want to be happy.
That’s all I’ve ever really wanted. I think that’s really all anyone ever wants out of life is to be happy. What makes us happy? Well, that’s different for everyone. For some of us it’s money, others it’s fame, some need a child, while others find satisfaction in their careers. In the end, we’re all searching for what will make us sleep well at night, give us peace even when everything isn’t perfect. When I was younger, I dreamed about some of those things. Who doesn’t want to be rich or famous until you realize all the problems that come with it?
I never realized the problems that would come with Cal. Now when I look at Chris, I wonder if he’s happy. I can’t tell. The more I get to know Chris, the harder he is to read. At first, I thought he was an open book, but that makes no sense at all. He’s far more complicated than he appears. His turmoil and frustration has a name, and a life of its own.
The more time I spend with Chris, the more I genuinely start to like him and not just because he looks like Cal and sounds like him, which is what I thought it was originally. I actually like the person he is, the one I’m getting to know. When I was with Cal I always saw something kind and warm in him—when he’d let me in, that is. I’m starting to think that was Chris. I want to let my guard down with him, I really do, but I’m afraid. It sounds silly and childish, but being in love with Cal seems so much different than letting myself have feelings for Chris. As wild and unpredictable as Cal was, I knew Cal. At least I thought I did. I was comfortable in the whirlwind that was our life together. Chris is a totally different story. Falling for him is dangerous, and pursuing him comes with a whole lot of risk. Rejection from him is more than that because if he can’t love me or want to there’s no hope for Cal and I, they’re one in the same.
Sometimes I’ll catch him looking at me in a way that makes me think he could feel something for me, but I think he doesn’t want to. He wants to be my friend, and the thought makes me cringe. I can’t ever really be his friend. How can you be friends with someone you want to love you? How do you pretend your feelings don’t exist or matter? I’m not that strong. If it turns out that Cal never comes back and he’s floating in some type of mental prison…How can Chris let me in if he shuts Cal out? If he can’t ever let me in, I will be cordial, I will be friendly, I will be the best co-parent I can, but I cannot be his friend, at least not now.
By the time I leave, I’ll know if Chris will let me in. That’s our timetable. I’m going to do my best to keep my armor on and my guard up while trying to get as close as I can. It’s scary, terrifying really, but it’s a risk I have to take. That’s what I keep telling myself. That’s what my heart is telling me, at least. My mind is telling me to move the fuck on and fast. My heart and mind have never agreed on anything, but it seem like what used to be frequent bickering has become a full on battle since my arrival here.
I look over at the clock. It’s 5:30am, but in Chicago it’d be 6:30 am. I already smell the breakfast Mrs. Scott is cooking up. Caylen’s still sleeping and will be for at least another hour. It usually gives me enough time to eat breakfast and shower. I slip on my robe and grab my toothbrush to freshen up. Mrs. Scott told me I can leave one in the extra holder space, but I don’t feel comfortable doing that so I go back and forth with it.
I open my door and head towards the bathroom but stop when I hear hushed whispering. I peep in the living room and see Jenna and Mr. Scott talking. I start to turn around and go back to my room but something tells me to stay right where I am.
“He said that to you last night?” Mr. Scott asks, his tone quiet and concerned.
“Chris has never talked to me that way,” Jenna says her tone louder than Mr. Scott’s. “I was worried this would happen with Lauren staying here,” he says bitterly, and I feel my heart speed up. What happened?
“I can’t say for sure that he’s Cal because I’ve never encountered him, but from the way you described him…Chris isn’t like who he was yesterday,” she says, and my heart is now beating a thousand miles a minute.
“If Cal is back the one good thing is that Lauren is here,” he says timidly. “He won’t leave with her here. I’ll have to talk to her,” he continues, and I tiptoe back to my room and close the door. My thoughts are all over the place. Cal can’t be back. He wouldn’t be back and not come to me. What the hell is going on, and what would Mr. Scott have to say to me if he is? I’m not going to talk to him, and if Cal is back why the hell would he go to Jenna’s house?
I feel so many different emotions right now, anxious, overwhelmed angry and… well no, no I won’t let myself be excited. I’m not able to think long before there’s a knock at the door. I try to fix my demeanor and calm my racing heart down. They don’t even know if Cal is here. He knocks again. I know it’s Mr. Scott. I crack the door so that he can barely see in.
“Good morning,” I say faking a yawn.
He nods, a grimace still on his face. “Good morning,” he replies, and there’s an awkward pause.
“Is everything okay?” I ask him quickly.
“I was hoping I could speak with you,” he says, trying to change his tone from disdainful to pleasant.
His attempt is lousy.
“Now?”
“If that’s not a problem,” he says, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.
“Well, Caylen’s asleep now,” I reply.
“Gwen has started breakfast. She ran upstairs for a bit. Can we talk when she’s back down?” he asks, and I let out a little sigh.
I don’t want to talk to Mr. Scott, especially about Cal. I don’t want to talk to him about anything. I don’t even know why he’d want to talk to me. He’s barely said ten words to me since I’ve arrived. I’d feel better if Mrs. Scott was involved, but it would be rude if I say no while I’m a guest in their home.
“Is it important?”
“Yes,” he answers immediately, and I nod.
“Sure,” I say shortly.
“Thank you,” he says, leaving my doorway. I know one thing, Jenna better be gone. They’ve both lost their minds if they think I’m talking to the both of them about Cal. That’d be like jumping in a shark tank with raw fish taped to my back. I wait a second before heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth and throw water on my face. Why does he want to talk to me all of a sudden, why hasn’t he talked to Chris…If he is Cal, I’m sure he doesn’t want—correction, he’s not going to talk to him—but if he was Cal, he wouldn’t hide it. He has absolutely no reason to now. I take a deep breath and head out and see Mrs. Scott coming down the stairs.
“Morning, Lauren,” she says cheerfully. She doesn’t have a care in the world right now. No sign of worry or anxiety on her face, unlike Mr. Scott’s.
“Good Morning,” I reply.
“Is Caylen up yet?” she asks, heading towards the room. She gestures to it before going in, a wide smile on her face. She still looks like a kid on Christmas morning when she talks about Caylen.
“I don’t think so. You can look in on her, though.” As she enters the room, I follow her.
“She’s such a little angel,” she says to me as she looks over her. Her excitement is barely contained. “But don’t worry, I’ll let her sleep,” she finishes. “How you are this morning, want some coffee or tea?” she asks as we leave the room together.
“No I’m fine,” I say, following her. Once we reach the kitchen, Mr. Scott is nowhere in
sight. Judging by her cheerful mood, Mrs. Scott must have no idea what is going on. “They’re having a children’s reading hour down at the library today—Dr. Seuss, fairytales, that sort of thing. Would you mind if I took Caylen?” she asks tentatively. It only takes me a second to think about it. Mrs. Scott absolutely adores Caylen, and I feel pretty safe with leaving the two of them alone together.
“Sure,” I reply with a smile.
“Great! It’ll only be an hour and a half, and we’ll come straight back,” she assures me as she checks on something in the oven. It smells delicious. Mr. Scott comes back in the house through the kitchen entrance and kisses Mrs. Scott on the cheek.
“Honey,” she replies sweetly. He gives her a smile that makes me remember he’s not a mean bastard to everyone, just me…and Cal, apparently.
“Lauren, could you step outside with me for a moment?” he asks. Mrs. Scott looks at him oddly. This is the first time he’s spoken to me directly since I’ve been here.
“Is everything okay, William?” She asks a little suspiciously.
“Everything’s fine. Lauren’s been here a little while, and she and I haven’t really had a chance to get to know one another. I thought I’d show her around the farm,” he reassures his wife. She glances back at me, and I muster up as much of a smile as I can.
“I’ll go get a jacket,” I say, turning to leave the room. I didn’t know he was going to want to talk to me by myself. I assumed he was waiting on Mrs. Scott. I peak over at Caylen, who’s still sleeping and grab my jacket. As I approach the kitchen, I can hear Mrs. Scott saying something to him. I’m not quite sure what. She stops as soon as I approach.
“Shall we, Lauren?” He opens the door for me to step out. I try to act as if I’m not about to walk into the lion’s den. Depending on how this conversation goes this may very well be the last day I stay in this house because if he says anything inappropriate or disrespectful to me, I’m letting him have it. I smile at Mrs. Scott before leaving, and she gives me a nervous smile.
There’s an awkward tension in the air as Mr. Scott walks behind me. Once we’re off the porch I begin to wonder where we’re going. My eyes quickly skim the lot. No extra cars, so that means Jenna is gone. Chris’ car is gone too. If he picked up an early class that would make sense, nothing really out of the ordinary.
Almost Broken: If I Break #2 Page 14
