by Portia Moore
“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 but she’s bitter and looks like she’s hurts her.
“He had been going through some type of—the only thing I could call it is a mid-life crisis. He hadn’t been himself. Kind of withdrawn, he kept saying he didn’t feel accomplished.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 and 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 for advice about boys,” she shakes her head.
“How stupid have I been? All of that time she was wearing her little shorts and tiny 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 will 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 He’s withdrawn, quiet and moody.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 and we were already stationed so far underground. 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 wouldn’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 lot 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 speak to Aidan either, and he barely speaks to me. The only familiar thing he does is play his guitar. But now he stays on my iPad, which is little strange since he’s never really been into electronics. Every single day he’s on that thing for hours, 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 to Nick Jr. since I left.
“Hey babe,” I say cheerfully. He doesn’t say anything, as 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 much,” she kisses 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 outweighs the patience I’ve been holding on to by a thread since he started 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 and I follow 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 there. 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 tele
vision 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 on the couch my arms folded as I watch him live in a world that no one else is a part of—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-sized 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. I’m not surprised but still makes me want to scream. When I make it down to the lobby café, I see Helen standing there.
“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 hide 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 crumbled. 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.
“Emotions are intertwined, happiness, joy, sadness, anger. Make him feel one, the others will follow 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. “Anywho, yeah I’m in for the weekend. You can bring her whenever you’re ready.”
“Great. I’ll be over in about an hour and a half if that’s okay.”
After I’ve packed up Caylen’s things for the weekend I scoop her up into 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 in 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 working out again. Your stairs almost killed me,” I say, catching my breath.
“Are you ready for fun with Auntie Angie?” she coos, taking off of 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 television 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 for 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 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 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.
