Lauren

“Mommy sand!!” Caylen squeals as the white sand pours through her fingers.

“That is a beautiful sand castle sweetheart,” I tell her before stealing a kiss on her cheek.

“Look at mine, Lauren!” Willa giggles.

“Beautiful!” I exclaim, and she twirls around in her pink princess swimsuit.

“I’m so glad to get away from all of the madness. This is close to heaven,” Mrs. Scott says, a wide smile on her face.

“Girls, why don’t you go bury Papa!” Mrs. Scott suggests pointing the girls in her husband's direction who’s about fifteen feet away from us reading his newspaper on the Ipad we gave him for his birthday.

“Daddy, can we bury you again?” Willa asks Mr. Scott who feigns a groan but agrees.

“Come on, Caylen,” Willa says as they make their way over to him.

The past four months have been like a whirlwind. Hillary was right. The night that turned my world around seemed to be one of the best social media kickoffs our gallery could have had. I have a wait list for artists work to be featured, we’ve been featured on several celebrities’ social media accounts, and I’ve even listed some of my own work. Nothing as personal as I had the last time but it feels good to run a successful business and still be an artist. With Dexter Crestfield Sr. beginning his trial soon, we thought it was as good a time as any to get away from the madness that’s likely to ensue. The sun is hot and there is a cool breeze off the water. The sky is clear and I can’t help but drift back to my wedding day on that beach in Rio. I blink the thought away, the joy of the memory tied around sadness. I’ve been trying my hardest to not be sad, to not think about him. It’s been four months since he left me at the gallery, when he told me he had to get better. The days after that nearly suffocated me, but Caylen pulled me out of that depression—the thought of her losing both her parents in mere days was more than the overwhelming need to pine, cry, and linger in the depth of my pain. I wish I could hear his voice, that I could just touch him. At least this time I know where he is. Elm Memorial, according to Dexter, is the crème de la crème of psychiatric hospitals. I looked at the website—no stark white paint, no bars on the doors, no creepy workers in matching outfits that sneer at you and stuff pills down your throat to keep you crazy. I guess those images came from a collage of movies I’ve seen over the years. Instead, it looks like a day spa, boasting days of individual therapy, group musical therapy, group therapy and family therapy.

Except his family therapy doesn’t include me. His new doctor there stressed that in order for him to heal fully that I couldn’t be a part of the equation. She put it more politely than that, but it still felt like a sledgehammer to my heart. I couldn’t believe the jealousy I felt when the Scotts would come and pick up Caylen to go see him. Aidan has been around a lot getting their car restoration business set up. He says he’s doing good, but I don’t get any more details than that. Raven could even see him if she chose to, but me, I’m not allowed. I’ve fantasized about driving up there and running past the guards and throwing myself into his arms but his mental health comes before my loneliness, my ache for him. Everyone’s picked up on my loneliness because they don’t mention their visits and barely say his name anymore. I pull out my journal and I start my letter to him. These are letters I don’t plan on sending because communication is a no-no between us, but I’d go crazy if I couldn’t get everything out. If it weren’t for Caylen, I would have checked myself in there just to be near him. Insane right?

“Hey sweetie,” Mrs. Scott calls out to me, with a warm smile. Whether she says it or not she sees what is hidden behind my mask.

“Hey.” I reach out for her hand to squeeze it. “I think I’m going to grab a cocktail. You want anything?”

“Just a lemonade please.” Her phone vibrates, and she looks down at it and sighs.

“Lauren, can you run back to my room. I left the little thingy there that charges my phone,” she asks.

“Of course,” I tell her. She hands me her room key and I trek my way back through the villa to our rooms. This was my first splurge in such a long time. The three bedroom, four bathroom villa overlooks a private beach. I swipe the key and walk in and spot the portable charger on the coffee table and grab it, ready to fill up on a Long Island Ice Tea.

“Hey babe,” his voice steals my breath. I’m afraid to turn around, afraid it’s a dream because if it is, I will melt right into the floor in my own puddle of tears when I wake. I turn around and when my eyes land on him, my face breaks out into a smile, and one spreads across his face to match. It’s beautiful and brilliant, and I missed it so much. My first instinct is to run over to him and jump in his arms and breathe in his scent. I want to study his face, every perfect inch of it and run my hands through his hair which is perfectly messy, similar to how it was when we first met, but my feet are frozen.

“Are you okay? You didn’t escape did you?” My voice is only above a whisper and his eyes crinkle at the ends, and he lets out a deep glorious laugh. His dimples are deep and they wink at me.

“I signed myself in, gorgeous. No escape plan needed.” His eyes take me in like I’m his most favorite gift, and I start to tremble when he begins to approach me. I’m afraid to move. The sun is hitting him, making him look ethereal. His eyes are grey with a green back drop.

“Are you better?” I ask him my voice breaking as I look up at him. I close my eyes and pray that it’s yes. I couldn’t bear it if he says this is just a visit, that he has to go back. He lifts me up by the waist, so we’re eye to eye. His presence envelops me, causing electricity to shoot through me but peace, too, wraps it’s way around my skin.

His eyes narrow in on mine and the mischievousness in him causes me to bite my lower lip.

“Better than ever.” My lips gravitate to his, and they enrapture mine. I feel the tenderness of Chris’s soft kisses, the expertise of Collin’s tongue, and the domination of Cal’s grip on my waist holding me against his hard chest. I wrap my arms around his neck as one of his hands moves widely through my hair and the other holds me up. When I break away I’m breathless, light-headed, and I feel high like I’m dreaming but if I wake up I’ll scream. I lean my head against his, and I want to ask so many questions. But the moment I feel the signature trace of his name on my back, and his lips on my neck, and he sings a part of my favorite song— tears of joy fall from my eyes. He sets me down, and goes in his back pocket to pull out a ring. My hands cover my mouth as he gets down on one knee.

“I was supposed to wait, but I want another run at this. A fresh start where you have the man you should have had from the beginning.”

I shake my head. “No,” I tell him, and he frowns but he’s wearing an amused grin. “You’ve always been perfect.”

…Almost 2 years Later

“Oh my gosh, I think they’re having a soccer match in there.” I rub my stomach to try to calm the twins down. My standard position has been sitting with a pillow behind my back since it feels like a watermelon is tied to my stomach.

“Mommy, can I kiss the babies,” Caylen asks sweetly before puckering her lips and kissing my stomach before I can even answer.

“She’s so cute…” Lisa says watching Caylen and Willa run around the gallery, playing some new version of cops and robbers I’m guessing. We closed an hour ago, and the gallery has become a second home for me since I spend so much time here. We have been so busy that we expanded to the lot next door.

“So you’re sure that all that you’ve told me, you want to share with the world? And you want me to be the person to write it?”

“You’re the perfect person, Lisa. You actually can convey who he is so people will understand.”

“You might as well since you made my family’s story a best seller,” his voice is sarcastic, but that’s a step-up from how upset he was when Lisa’s story hit the best sellers list. Names were changed to protect the innocent and the guilty but feelings were hurt, and memories that were buried that we had learned to mourn in silence, were brought back from the dead.

“You’re an amazing writer, babe. Who better to tell the story than someone who was smack dab in the middle of it.” Aidan flops down next to us on the sofa and lays his head on Lisa’s lap.

“I wasn’t in all of it, Aidan. I got left out of the last chapter,” she teases him, with an elbow to the chest and he gives her a quick kiss on the lips. I smile at them, glad that they found happiness with each other. I can’t say that I saw that coming but once she moved in with Aidan and I saw him starting to look like a sad puppy whenever her name was mentioned, I knew where it was going.

“You have love, romance, family drama, and a little bit of suspense after Dexter Sr. went to jail,” Aidan adds.

“If you call that soft, cushy federal prison punishment,” Cal grumbles, and I pull him by the neck to me to kiss him. There’s a knock on the door.

“We’re closed,” Cal yells out as if they can hear him. “Go get the door, Aidan. If I see you swap spit with Lisa again, I’m going to throw up.” He says inhaling a bag full of Skittles, and then picks up the Harry Potter book he had read to the girls earlier.

“Chris, old buddy you’re closest to the door.” Aidan teases him.

“Babe, can you go see?” I pout to him. He throws his head back and grumbles before getting up. Lisa grabs her phone and hits record.

“I’ll get it, so we don’t have to hear him bitch about it all night,” Aidan teases him, and I don’t warn him in time before Cal stretches his leg out to trip him. He catches his fall and snatches Cal’s bag of Skittles. Lisa and I trade amused glances at how childish they are.

“I think the best place to start… is… after Cal pulled a gun on his step-dad,” she says casually.

“Well… after Cal came home, he was distraught. I’d never seen him like that. I couldn’t sleep, my heart felt like it was in my throat the entire night…” He rubs my stomach spelling out his full name.

“How can we help you?” I hear Aidan ask.

“I-I’m looking for Calvin Scott.” All of our attention turns to the door. A beautiful girl is standing there, long dark hair, tall, and striking. I swallow the lump in my throat as my eyes dart to Cal who gives me a questioning look because he doesn’t know who she is. He better not. I push myself off the sofa and stand.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” I ask as politely as I can, trying to keep the worry and jealousy out of my voice.

“I know this might be… it might seem strange but…. I’m pretty sure I’m his sister.”