The Complete If I Break Series

by Portia Moore

  “This is so good. Your food could be the answer to world peace,” I joke destroying the last of my asparagus. I don’t even like asparagus, but the moment I put it in my mouth, I fell in love.

  “You’re too kind,” she says bashfully.

  “It really is spectacular. Have you ever thought about writing a cookbook,” Collin asks, and she smiles brightly.

  “Thank you, no I haven’t. I have recipes here and there,” she says a little taken aback.

  “That would be an awesome idea actually,” I say encouraging her and she fans her hand.

  “I’m serious. It’s the digital age, and it’s much easier to market and create a platform,” he continues. He starts to go into the analytics of e-commerce and the ideal conditions for content to go viral, and we both look on a bit stunned.

  “That is something to think about. At the very least it’d give me something to do, and I’d always wanted to pass along my recipes.”

  “I could help you with whatever you need,” he adds, then turns his attention towards me.

  “And an art gallery in the area we’re in, you have the perfect demographics.” Collin finishes a glass of wine and it’s my turn to be stunned. My thoughts drift back to the night when Cal suggested it, but we are interrupted by knocks at the door.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” Collin asks and I can see her eyes widen.

  “No,” she says quietly. Collin stands and goes to open the door.

  “I knew she was here!” I can’t help but crack a wide smile hearing that voice.

  “Hillary!” I say excitedly getting up from my seat.

  “Nice hair cut, Cal.” She jokes referring to his hair being styled so neatly. She maneuvers past him, and he steps back gesturing for her to go.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask surprised as she tackles me into a hug.

  “Aidan,” she giggles in my ear, and my mouth drops in shock.

  “What?!” I scream and Collin clears his throat.

  “Since when did you become such a prude, Cal,” she laughs rolling her eyes.

  “Actually I’m not Cal, and Gwen is sitting right here,” he says slightly annoyed.

  “No, it’s okay, Collin.” Mrs. Scott turns red with embarrassment.

  “Who the hell is Collin?” Hillary asks, confusion evident all over her face as she shoots me a glance.

  “I’m Collin!” he says with a sigh.

  “Not another one,” Aidan is in the kitchen now looking exasperated.

  “Aidan…” Collin gives him a half-hearted greeting.

  Aidan begins to laugh. “What are you auditioning for the cover of Ralph Lauren?” Hillary joins in laughing with him while giving Caylen a quick kiss on the cheek. Both Mrs. Scott and I turn red.

  “Aidan!” Mrs. Scott says in a warning tone. He throws his hands up in defense, his laughter only subsiding a small amount.

  “It’s okay, Gwen. Kids will be kids,” Collin says returning to his seat.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Red. It’s just…” he looks at Collin with confusion all over his face.

  “Don’t look at me,” Hillary squeals. I can see she’s trying her hardest not to laugh.

  “It’s just so weird,” he looks at Collin as if he’s trying to examine him. I have to give it to Collin. He only looks mildly perturbed. Cal would have punched Aidan in the face by now.

  “Chris, come out!!!” Aidan says loud and exaggerated in Collin’s face, and at that point I realize they both smell like Tequila. They’re drunk! I see Collin stand, and I immediately rush over between them.

  “What, are you upset prep school?” Aidan asks.

  “Collin, please.” I beg him, but I only see his fist clench. “Please not while Caylen is here.” I beg and he allows me to guide him to the other side of the room.

  “Aidan, you’ve got to go right now,” Mrs. Scott leads him toward the door with Hillary in tow.

  “I’m going to call you, hun!!!” Hillary sings to me.

  The Scotts kitchen is seriously jinxed.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” I say breathlessly once we make it upstairs to Chris’s room. Collin lets out a held in breath and rubs the back of his neck. His skin is tinted red, and it’s the only tell that he’s flustered. Though I admit, it’s nice to see that he can be affected, that he’s human.

  “It’s not your fault that Chris’s friends are idiots,” he sits on his bed.

  “Well, one of those idiots is my friend.”

  “They were just drunk,” he says calmly. I chuckle watching him remembering my thought from earlier.

  “What?” he asks curiously.

  I shrug. “Earlier I just had this thought that you were Cal playing me,” I admit.

  He grins. “Yes, Calvin has a hard time walking away.”

  “Yeah, that he does,” I say, and my thoughts can’t help but drift to when he walked away from me.

  “He loves you.”

  My eyes widen. “Are you a mind reader?” I joke to lighten the mood.

  “You don’t have to be psychic to tell what those you’re closest too are thinking,” he says, and I wrap my arms around myself. It’s so odd for him to look at me as if he knows all of my secrets. I think of his words from earlier, saying that we want the same thing, that he wants them to be one. Chris nor Cal has ever said that to me.

  “When you said earlier that you want what I want, about you all being one, you really feel that way?” I cautiously sit near him on the bed.

  “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  “How do we do that?” I am almost afraid to hear the answer.

  “Is that really what you want?” he asks me, and his look is serious.

  “Of course that’s what I want. Why wouldn’t I?” I ask offended.

  “The man who comes out on the other side may not be the one you fell in love with,” he says, and I swallow hard.

  “Please don’t tell me that you’re going to ask me who I love the most,” I laugh nervously.

  “No, there isn’t a competition. If we all don’t cross the finish line then none of us will, but if they don’t believe that, none of us have hope,” he says quietly.

  “The barn’s been cleared.” We turn to see Mrs. Scott in the doorway with Caylen on her hip. “I could put her to bed if you like.” she says a little awkwardly.

  “No, I can do it,” I quickly stand.

  “Are you sure,” she asks again. I look back over at Collin.

  “No it’s fine, I’m sure she’s missed that,” he answers back.

  “Okay.” I go over to Mrs. Scott.

  The weight of his words are heavy in the air. Does he realize what he’s just told me, how important that is to me?

  “Collin, do you mind if we talk for a little while?” Mrs. Scott asks as I take Caylen from her arms. I wonder if she heard what he said, I wonder if she believes him.

  “I’ll be downstairs,” I tell her before leaving the room.

  Most men think women are difficult to understand.

  Too complicated to figure out, their motives foreign. I’ve found the opposite to be true. It doesn’t take someone to be a genius to understand them—even though with my IQ it wouldn’t be misleading to call me that. It just takes attention, the majority of them are easy to read. Understand what motivates them as an individual, not as an entire sex. It’s all different—love, control, consistency, wealth, assurance, and fear. The same things that motivate men—because when it comes down to it, we all want the same things—we’re just guided by different principals.

  Once motivation is found, determine if they’re seeking acceptance. Are they operating out of guilt? Who is on offense, who is on defense? The person that knows their place holds the power. Most people don’t know what to do with that power when they get it, and if they don’t know that, they won’t keep it.

  It’s all very simple. Give a person what they’re lacking, make sure you know that you have something that they want or think that they need, and if t
hey don’t need it, you make them believe that they do. It is what both Cal and Chris didn’t understand.

  Cal believes that he has more to offer than he does and Chris believes he doesn’t have enough. Chris gives too much of himself to people but Cal doesn’t give enough. There is a balance to everything and neither one can master it without the other and definitely not without me.

  It is for that reason why I’m the constant.

  Why I am here when they leave. When they think the hurt is too sharp, when the anger is too much, when the fear is so deep they feel as if they’re drowning. That makes them the lifeless body and me the life jacket. I’m the one who keeps Calvin from putting us in jail and prevents Chris from putting us in the insane asylum.

  It was a bad volleyball game once upon a time. Bouncing from one extreme to another. Cal wanting to live life indulging in whatever pleasured him at the time, regardless of the consequences, and Chris only doing what he thought would be acceptable, pleasing to the people most important to him, completely unaware of the dirty little secrets that were being kept hidden from him by the people he loved most. It seemed purposeless at first, the balancing act that is. Swinging from one extreme to the other, no common ground. Part of me believing he knows it all while the other part walking around completely clueless. Cal more than happy to keep Chris in the dark, in his eyes, it was fun playing the choirboy. No commonality except for the women that they love.

  One being poor Gwen. I am exhausted just thinking of what Chris’s hero, his moral anchor did to her. It was almost sickening to watch her with him; oblivious to his deceit, unaware of his deception, truly believing that the man she loved for so long was incapable of something so vile. Watching Lisa parade around as if the secret she held never existed, both of them so wrapped up in their own glory of getting away with the ultimate mistake. William was so self-righteous toward Lauren, and deathly afraid of Calvin. He displaced his own guilt with anger toward the people that could pull the curtain up on his little show. I have to give him credit. He held up pretty well for a man walking around land mines not knowing that at any minute everything could explode. I’m disappointed in him though. I thought between him and Lisa that he would be the one to finally expose everything, but fear motivated him more than his love did, and for that, I feel truly sorry for Gwen.

  “I thought that we should talk,” she smiles away her pain. I respect her for that, something both her and Lauren have in common.

  I stand and allow her to sit on the bed. She looks around the room letting out a cleansing breath.

  “I wanted to thank you for being… kind.” She says as if she’s searching for the right words.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I always wanted a relationship with Cal, he just… I guess he hated us.”

  “He doesn’t hate you,” I tell her and she gives me a lopsided smile.

  “Lauren told me about everything that’s happened. I wish that I had known, that there was something that I could have done.” Her sorrow sweeps over her instantly.

  I take her hand and I can tell she’s surprised. “You did the best thing you could for us. You were a great mother, you are a great mother, and we’re going to be okay,” I reassure her. Her eyes raise to mine and she smiles. I see hope in them; hope that things are going to be okay. I know that she wants to believe me, that if she looks hard enough she’ll see the little boy who was easy, who wanted to please her, who she could solve all of his problems with a glass of milk and a chocolate chip cookie.

  “A-are there any more of you?” she asks hesitantly. I squeeze her hand and I hope it melts her heart.

  “No, I’m the last of the Mohicans,” I tell her and she lets out a relieved sigh.

  “Not that I wouldn’t love anyone else,” she explains quickly and I nod in understanding. “I also apologize for Aidan earlier, he’s usually much better behaved. Thank you for not escalating things.”

  I grin, because it did take a lot to stop that from happening. Cal tried to use the building anger to slip out through the cracks. He’s on time-out until he learns how to play well with others again. Cal has the emotional stamina of a six year old, and after finally showing him what he arrogantly blocked out, he has no idea how to control his thinking or actions. He’s out of order, until I can get things stable.

  “I told Lauren that there’s no need for an apology.”

  “You’re so different from them,” she says with a perplexed look on her face.

  “I have to be.”

  “When you’re not… when you’re not in control… where are you?” she asks, her tone mixed with curiosity and concern.

  “I am always around. I never go dark like Chris does or like Calvin decides to do most times. I have to always be aware.”

  “Go dark… what does that mean?”

  “Unconscious, a deep sleep,” I tell her simply. Her eyes widen, she seems caught off guard by my forthrightness. It makes sense, in a family that is so used to half-truths and hiding secrets.

  “You’re like the co-pilot,” she deduces and I grin.

  “That would be the perfect analogy,” I tell her and she smiles.

  “Mrs. Scott?” We both turn to see Lauren nervously at the door. “Mr. Scott just got here.”

  I turn to Gwen to see her face has drained of color.

  “Do you want me to ask him to leave?” I keep my voice cool and even because I want her to know that I’ll ask in a way that won’t lead to an altercation or emotional breakdown, like my counterparts would.

  “No, no it’s his home too. We’ll share it until I decide what it is I’m going to do,” she says quietly and stands. She walks past Lauren who is almost frozen in the doorway. She looks over at me, her wide hazel eyes full of confusion—the same eyes that both Cal and Chris fell in love with, eyes that can light up a room, or be clouded with sadness depending on which man chooses what action. I’m grateful for Lauren. She was the connection, the bridge that both needed, someone that they both could love. I was skeptical if Chris would, since she was so different from Jenna. Not that I didn’t like Jenna, but she would’ve never been the one that Cal would sacrifice the life he built for. He detested her, or better yet regretted the chance he gave her to slip in.

  I remember the day Cal had given up, resigned to letting Lauren go, doing the most selfless thing he’d ever done, or so he thought. It’s not unusual that Cal’s actions tend to backfire because he acts in the moment, strictly out of emotion, without envisioning the long-term effects. Passionate to a fault, the same thing Lauren loves about him is the same thing that causes her so much pain.

  “Do you think we should go down there?” She looks to me nervously.

  “No, I think they need to work things out themselves. Whichever way it goes.” Her eyes narrow in on me, full of curiosity, as if she’s still trying to figure me out.

  “Do you think she’ll forgive him?” she asks, and I sit beside her. She rubs her hands across her thighs.

  I make her nervous, and not because she’s scared or uncomfortable, but because she isn’t and she feels like she should be.

  “I think that she will,” I tell her honestly and she raises an eyebrow. “You disagree?”

  “How can she trust him after something like this? I don’t know if she could get past a betrayal like that.” She takes her time with her words, putting herself in Gwen’s situation.

  “I don’t think Gwen is motivated by certainty. Love drives her. If he can convince her that he still loves her, that the family can survive this, she’ll take him back,” I say fairly confident.

  “You sound so sure,” she looks at me perplexed and slightly annoyed.

  “Once you find out what motivates a person, you can usually figure out the outcome of the decisions they make fairly easily. For instance a woman whose driven more by certainty and routine would never be able to take a man back who has broken her trust—it breaks down her core motivation. A woman like that would never be able to have any peace n
ot knowing if he will go with the wind so to speak.”

  She smiles and her eyes narrow in on me, studying me. “How do you know all of this? How did you have the time to become so intuitive?”

  “Not intuitive, observant,” I correct her and she rolls her eyes.

  She shifts her body toward me. “Well, Dr. Scott, no Dr. Crestfield, that would be more appropriate right?” There’s a challenge to her voice but it’s laced with a tad of flirtation, and I’m intrigued. I shift toward her.

  “You and Gwen are one in the same,” I tell her with a smile. She gives me a dismissive grin.

  “Well let me tell you, if you or any of you decided to cheat on me with one of Caylen’s friends when she gets older, I will kill you.” She looks me in the eye and for the first time in so long they are wide and bright and playful. A look she’s never given me, and for a second I forget that she’s their distraction, not mine, and for a moment it’s as if she forgets she’s in love with them and not me. Then she remembers, tearing her eyes away from mine.

  “I’m okay with leaving tomorrow afternoon.” She stands and I do as well. “I think your treatment takes priority over anything else right now.”

  “Goodnight, Collin.” She waves before leaving the room, and I ignore the feeling that I’ve never felt, can’t quite describe, but I am pretty certain is disappointment.

  Chapter 23