The Complete If I Break Series

by Portia Moore

  “Uhm, yeah,” I tell him trying to keep my emotions in check. He grins and slides a folder over to me. I open it and pull out the pieces of paper. My eyes scan what looks like screen shots of bank statements and financial portfolios. When my eyes land on the total net worth, I almost choke on my own spit.

  “I’m worth seven million dollars?!” I am stunned in disbelief. I’ve never seen so much money staring back at me in my life. Before today, I had five thousand dollars in my savings and four hundred in my checking account.

  “And Collin has been steadily increasing that. He has a spectacular eye for the market,” Dexter says.

  “I can’t believe this.” I stare at the paper in front of me. Granted a lot of the money is tied up in stocks and my 401k, but sitting in just one of my personal checking accounts is five hundred thousand dollars.

  “You’re a lot easier to please than your counterpart,” Dexter chuckles, and my eyes bug out.

  “You mean this isn’t enough for him?” I ask in disbelief.

  “Nowhere near it. He just negotiated an increase in your salary…”

  “Which would mean?”

  “Your salary is 1.4 million annually,” he says and my mouth drops open. I let out a long whistle, completely baffled.

  “What is it that I do here exactly?” I swallow the huge lump in my throat. A grin spreads across his face.

  “Well, it depends on who’s in the driver’s seat,” he sits a drink down in front of me and I wave him off.

  “This isn’t my life. This can’t be my life. I’m not rich, I’m not a business shark…” I stand from my chair and begin to pace the office.

  “Do I pay taxes on this?”

  “Yes all of that is taken care of.” He watches me with amusement. I’ve got to pull myself together.

  I’m rich.

  “I-I don’t know what to say.” I am completely baffled.

  “You seem surprised.”

  “Well, yeah…” I feel like the reason should be completely obvious to him.

  “You’ve been to your house. Have you seen his cars, the clothes he wears… did you think all of those things were on loan?” He chuckles.

  “No, I mean I knew they were expensive but… it’s a lot different when you see the numbers…”

  “I’m sending you a secure email with all of your usernames and passwords,” he tells me, and I gulp.

  “What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Well, I would suggest that you allow us to continue to manage your portfolio, and as far as what’s in your checking account, that’s entirely at your discretion.”

  “I’m sure Lauren can go over the expenses that you incur each month but your mortgage is paid off, and all of your cars are owned or on company lease.”

  I try to focus on breathing. “I don’t understand how or why do I have all of this?” I ask confused. His smile turns into a small grin.

  “Well, after everything came out, it only makes sense. You’re a Crestfield.” It does make sense. Dexter Sr. didn’t help me as a favor to my dad—he helped me because I’m his blood, his secret son.

  “Okay, so what do you want me to do? I don’t want any part of what ‘they’ve been doing,” I tell him nervously.

  “I think we have a place that would be a great fit for you,” he says with a grin.

  “Lauren,” I open my eyes and see Chris standing in front of me. His face is lit up—his smile so bright—he’s almost beaming. He looks like he did right after I first met him, that simple time when he didn’t let the heaviness of our situation weigh him down. I sit up in bed and try to wipe the sleep from my eyes. He called me and said it would be awhile before he made it home, but I didn’t think he meant this long. I glance at the clock on our dresser; it’s 11:30 at night.

  “Hey…” My voice trails off when I notice all the bags crowded around our bed. There are at least fifteen of them.

  “Wow.” I laugh. I know I had mentioned that he needed some new clothes earlier, but I didn’t really take Chris as a ‘shopper.’ I thought he’d grab a few shirts and jeans.

  “This isn’t for me. I bought Caylen some toys, and the saleswoman picked out some stuff for you and my mom too,” he says enthusiastically. He hands me a bag that distinctly says Neiman Marcus, and I am surprised. I didn’t take Chris for a Neiman’s guy, more like an Old Navy guy.

  “I asked my assistant where I should go shopping since I’m not from here and she took a half day off and went with me to this place called the Magnificent Mile,” he says enthusiastically, like a kid in a candy store. I try to hide my annoyance at the fact that he went shopping with his assistant instead of calling me, but he’s so cute in his excitement.

  “I take it your meeting with Dexter went well?” I open one of the bags he hands me and see a cute little purple and white jumpsuit for Caylen.

  “Yeah. Did you know I had that much money?” he asks matter-of-factly.

  “I had an inkling,” I say with a giggle.

  We go through several bags of stuff for me and Caylen. I try to get a picture of his assistant in my head. She has amazing taste, and there isn’t one item I picked up that I didn’t like, but it’s all expensive. After marrying Cal, it put me into a whole other ladder financially, but I still consider myself frugal. That’s not to say that I don’t have several expensive handbags and pairs of shoes, but I still scoff at the prices of designer clothing, and looking at the tags of this stuff makes me cringe. I could have gotten similar items for Caylen from Target or H&M, but I don’t have the heart to tell him.

  “Do you like it,” he asks me like a wide-eyed teenager, and I nod.

  “Yes, it’s all really nice,” I tell him. “But where is your stuff?”

  “Well, the stuff she showed me for men didn’t really fit me, but she did take me to get fitted for some suits. I guess when I start working there I can’t exactly walk around in jeans and T-shirts."

  “Working there?” I ask surprised. I never in a million years thought that Chris would consider working at Crestfield Corp. I still thought he’d be on the fence about living in Chicago.

  “Yeah, but not doing what Collin and Cal did. I don’t even really know what they did, but Dexter’s set me up with a position in their public relations division. They choose the charities the company donates to, the programs they sponsor, and coordinate events for fundraisers and things like that. I could really make a difference there.”

  He looks so happy, it’s contagious. I’m so shocked that he went in reluctantly and came out almost enthusiastic about whatever they showed him.

  “I did get one thing for myself today, though,” he tells me excitedly. He disappears out of the room in a flash, and when he returns he’s holding a guitar.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s beautiful.” The guitar practically gleams—it’s white with gold trim, and looks as if it has always belonged to him. When he puts the strap on his shoulder, he looks like an ethereal rock star, especially with his new haircut. He strikes a few chords and I pull my knees to my chest and wait for him to begin playing. He smiles at me bashfully.

  “Any requests?” He has a playful glint in his eye that I’ve missed, and I feel myself blush.

  “Anything you play, I’ll love,” I tell him, and he grins and begins to play the most beautiful chords. They are slow and melodic, and I want to close my eyes and let the music wrap around me, but I don’t want to take my eyes off of him. He looks happy—not just happy but peaceful—and I haven’t seen him at peace in so long. When he begins to sing, the little goose bumps that have been absent the past few days wake up and walk across my body. His eyes lock on mine, and he begins to sing Justin Nozuka’s After Tonight. I was obsessed with this song the year I started dating Cal. Is it a coincidence or does he remember? He sings and my heart slows and my skin warms. I bite my lip and squeeze my knees together trying to downplay how wonderful he looks, how sexy this moment is, then he takes the guitar off and places it up against the wall.

 
“Please don’t stop…” I ask him quietly and his eyes smile at me.

  “I mean the singing,” I tell him bashfully. He gives me a lopsided grin and continues to sing. He walks toward me and stops when he reaches the bed. I crane my neck to look at him. He leans down so we’re at eye level and continues to sing to me. My heartbeat has gone from slow to erratic. Chris never looks more confident or seems as sure of himself than when he sings. I smile at him and sway from side to side as he continues, and when his hands touch my waist, he pulls me up so we’re standing chest to chest. I can’t help but let out a breath to keep from floating away. We begin to dance. His hands slowly make their way across my back and I wrap my arms around his neck. His voice grows quieter until it’s just pretty whispers near my ear, but we continue to sway. I look up at him, his eyes are locked on mine and I can’t look away. His eyes glide down to my lips, and I can’t help but moisten them. Little by little we’re no longer swaying but taking little steps back toward the bed until I bump against it. I place my hands on his chest, and his hands slip between the material of my shorts and skin and linger there. Our lips hover near each other’s, the energy has changed from exciting and playful to hesitant lust. But why are we hesitant… because of earlier today? But that hesitancy doesn’t stop his lips from reaching mine, and they’re soft and our kiss is tentative. When I’m on the bed with him on top of me, his hands begin to explore my body and piece by piece our clothes come off and he’s inside of me. And all of our problems from earlier disappear.

  When I wake up, the room is clean of all the bags and boxes from earlier.

  “I made you breakfast,” I look over and see Chris sitting with a tray of what looks like pancakes, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. I sit up in shock. He’s completely dressed, wearing one of the few T-shirts and jeans he brought with him when we came back to Chicago. It looks like his hair has already started to grow back—the prickles of hair seem to be peeking out more than they were the day before.

  “Thank you,” I pull the sheet over my naked body and he sits the tray on my lap.

  “Where’s your mom and Caylen?” I ask taking a sip of orange juice to clear away my morning breath.

  “At the park and then they’re going to the library. My session is in about an hour and I’ll be heading out.” He steals a piece of my bacon, and I giggle taking a bite of it. My eyes sweep over him, and he seems as if a burden has been lifted off him. Last night, he made love to me and it was sweet and fun. He was so playful during it that I felt like I was in high school all over again. The times Chris and I have slept together it was always intense and slow, but this time it was different.

  “You seem different today,” I glance at him unable to contain my own grin. He smiles at me.

  “Well, it’s still me,” he teases and I’m so surprised at how light and casual he is about it. He turns his body fully toward me and rubs the back of his neck.

  “I think I’ve been looking at this through the wrong lens.” He shakes his head as if he’s figured out a problem he’s been working years to solve. I look at him curiously. “With what we have—the resources, the money, the influence that Crestfield Corp has—we could do great things,” he says excitedly.

  “My mom and I have worked at that Kreuk place for years. Scraping barely enough together to implement programs for people who otherwise wouldn’t have access to what most people take for granted. It helped, and it felt good, but we weren’t able to do as much as we wanted.” His smile softens.

  “But with the money that Crestfield pays me and having access to the resources they have, I could really do some good.” His eyes light up with excitement. He is genuinely happy, and it makes me happy for him. To know that he cares about people outside of himself, it warms my heart and I set aside the tray and crawl over to him and sit on his lap. He looks surprised but amused.

  “You’re amazing, Chris.” I kiss him softly on the lips.

  “You’re amazing, Lauren. I jumped to conclusions about you. Though you are rich, you’re so down to earth. I guess I don’t have a good history with rich people, and you never seemed like one,” he chuckles.

  “I’m rich?” I ask in amused disbelief.

  “You have ten times more money than anyone I know. Well, aside from the Crestfields,” he says.

  “Well, you sort of are a Crestfield now,” I tease him back regretting the words as soon as I say them. His eyes crinkle a bit, and he lets out a small breath.

  “I am and I plan on exploiting that name as much as I can to do as much good that can be done,” he tells me confidently. I kiss him again just for being Chris. I think I’ve fallen in love with this man all over again in the span of a day.

  “I wanted to ask you something.” I smile at him bashfully. “About the song you played last night…” He looks at me and I see his cheek turn a bright shade of red.

  “Did you like it?” He grips my waist tighter, and I bite my lip as I feel him come alive under me.

  “Yes,” I tell him flirtatiously. “But what made you pick that song?” I ask him, as I feel the sheet being pulled down from my body. My breathing picks up.

  “What do you mean?” His eyes glide over me, and I fight myself to not cover my body and allow him to see me, to let him know that I know I’m his.

  “It’s one of my favorite songs. I played it all the time right before we got married,” I am proud of myself that I used the word we and not Cal. He flinches though, and the playful, lustful gaze he had is lost and has now turned serious.

  “I know,” his face scrunches up as if he’s in deep thought.

  “You know?”

  “I remember,” he tells me quietly and my heart stumbles over itself.

  “You remember?”

  “It’s strange because I didn’t have a memory or a flashback. I just sort of knew,” he explains, seemingly confused himself. He scratches his head and I sit back on the bed.

  “That’s great,” I tell him happily. For him to remember that—it’s small but it’s something—and for him to remember without actually trying is huge to me.

  “Yeah,” he agrees but he doesn’t look too excited. His brow is furrowed and he seems like he’s in deep thought. I take his hand.

  “It’s a good thing, Chris,” I take his face in my hands, and he smiles softly at me.

  “Yeah,” he says before kissing me, but the energy that was just here before, how easy it was, is now different. If Chris was removing bricks off of his chest, I just set one back on it.

  Chapter 28

  Chris

  “Solo today?” Helen says as she walks into the office. Lauren has agreed to come to some sessions with me, and we agreed that some sessions I’ll come alone. Helen seems to be in a good mood today. I wish I was in a better mood today. Yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had in a long time. Finding out that I have the means and the resources to do something good and being able to buy Lauren and Caylen things without worrying about the price are some of the best feelings ever.

  I never experienced that before. I would have never considered myself poor growing up— my parents have had the farm since before I was born, and we always had two cars and a nice home—but my parents raised me to be responsible with money because after the necessities there wasn’t a lot to splurge on, and even less left to really make a difference in the world with. But now that seems possible. With this money, I can now breathe and not think about how bad things have been, or about the things I haven’t had a chance to do because now I have a chance to do more than I ever imagined. Lauren looked so beautiful when I woke her up last night. I fought with myself whether to let her sleep or not, but I wanted to share how I was feeling with her, to show her that I’m not the sad mopey one all the time. Seeing the way she looked at me, not them but me, how she moaned my name and lay in my arms—I wanted to just enjoy the time with my wife. And even this morning, watching her sleep and talking to her about what the future could hold felt great, but then she brought up that so
ng.

  “You seem to be in deep thought—how about you share?” She grins at me like a concerned old friend and I let out a deep frustrated breath. It’s our fourth session together and I feel more comfortable with her, but sometimes it feels like pulling teeth to open up to her. Opening up means getting answers and I need those, especially with the opportunity I have to really make things right. With all of the time that’s been taken away from me, it would all be worth it if I’m able to really do something good. It would make up for never being able to get my teaching license, never traveling, or following through on a decision I made.

  “I remembered something,” I tell her and she sits straighter in her chair.

  “It was a song that Lauren says is one of her favorites,” I explain. She picks up her pen and writes something on her notepad.

  “I played it last night for her, and this morning she said that it was her favorite song. She used to play it all the time before she married Cal,” I tell her. She arches an eyebrow at me.

  “You mean before she married you,” she corrects me, and I shrug.

  “You’ve had memories before.”

  “Yeah but they used to be like flashbacks, and this wasn’t like that. I just sort of knew… I guess.” She nods and writes something on her Ipad.

  “Is that a good thing?” I ask her, and she looks up at me with a soft smile.

  “Yes, any memory that comes to you is a good thing, that it didn’t come as what you would call a flashback isn’t anything to be concerned about. If anything I would say that it shows that it was shared.” She says jovially and I look at her confused.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It means that sometimes you can snatch memories and other times they are given to you by another side of yourself,” she explains.

  “You mean Cal or Collin?”