Lauren

Is this our world now? Are fights, angriness, bitterness and hatred the only things to look forward to? The anger and devastation between Chris and Mr. Scott felt tangible, suffocating us all. I am not a big fan of Mr. Scott. I detest what he did, how he treated me, and he deserves to feel contrite for his act—but seeing how broken he was after Chris verbally eviscerated him—I can’t help but feel sorry for him, and more so than that, I’m afraid.

I’m terrified because Chris has never been so hard and cold before.

Chris is supposed to be the reasonable one, the one who forgives. He’s the one whose heart isn’t hardened, whose spirit isn’t broken. This isn’t who he is. But who is Chris now with everything out in the open? I don’t know who he or Cal is anymore. Has the dynamics changed? Are the men I know still in there? It seems like everything I know has switched. When Cal was here, he was disoriented, broken, and unwillingly vulnerable. Chris is… I don’t even know how to describe him now, but he is not the man I met just a few months ago. Not the man that I just saw. I don’t know who that person was, and watching him act like that was painful. I can’t imagine the pain he’s in, or how bad he’s hurting. I’ve realized that for Chris this is still as fresh as the day he found out. He hasn’t had time to process any of this because right after he found out Collin took over, and then Cal, and now he’s back in the same space that caused him to leave.

My head hurts. It’s pounding so hard because I don’t know what to do, or how to fix this. Before I thought that if they integrated everything would be fine. I thought if we found out the truth things would be better but, the truth hasn’t fixed anything and if anything has made it worse. I’m dealing with a fractured man, all the pieces broken and I’m not sure how to put the pieces back together. I have no clue what to do.

How do I bring Caylen into this? Even with his state of mind now I know he’d never hurt her but is this even healthy for a child? What if we can’t recover from this?

“I’m going to head out.” I look up and see Mr. Scott, looking almost as broken as his son. I forgot that he was still here. It’s been an hour and a half since Chris confronted him, and to be honest, a part of me is sad that he’s leaving because I’m afraid that I can’t handle this alone. I nod at him, his blue eyes are dull and heavy, and he looks as defeated as I feel.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asks quietly, shifting the bag on his shoulder. I let out a sigh and plaster on a smile.

“I always am,” I tell him in the most upbeat tone I can and wrap my arms around my legs. He looks toward the stairs as if making sure Chris isn’t going to pounce and attack.

He sits next to me and lets out his own deep sigh.

“I really screwed things up.” He covers his face with his hands. I don’t say anything because he knows how bad this is.

“I know that I said I was sorry for how I treated you before but─”

“I know.” I can imagine how sorry he is for everything, but the words won’t make things any better at this point.

“We have so much more to focus on now. We have to look forward, it makes no sense to keep looking back on the past,” I tell him quietly. I see him nod out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m going to stay at a hotel a few blocks from here if you need me. I’ll text you once I check in to let you know where I am,” he says as he stands.

“Thank you.” My voice sounds tired and weak, but I hope he knows how grateful I am for him being nearby. I walk him to the door, and we stand awkwardly for a moment. We aren’t close enough to hug, and it would feel awkward and weird if we forced it. If Chris came out and saw us hug—with him being so angry—it wouldn’t be a good situation for either of us, though we both could use a good hug right about now. So instead I pat him on the shoulder, and he nods. He opens the door, and I watch him waiting for the elevator before shutting the door when he’s finally on his way down.

“You look like you were sad to see him go?” I turn and see Chris sitting at the bottom of the staircase. His expression is somewhere between crossed and bemused.

“You’re not?” I ask him keeping my voice steady and even.

He rolls his eyes. “I thought I made that pretty clear to you both earlier.”

I stare at him trying to read him, thinking of where we are in this moment. How hard I wished, hoped and prayed for him to be back here with me. How many nights I imagined us being here, and we’re here, just not exactly how I pictured it. I have to remind myself that us being here together is what’s important. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it. He could be God knows where but he’s here with me right now, and it’s what I remind myself of before answering him.

“I wish it was under different circumstances,” I tell him truthfully as I walk over to him.

“You’re right. I wish my dad hadn’t fucked up my life,” he chuckles, running his hand through is hair. It’s longer and thicker than I’ve seen it—in need of a trim—but still beautifully wild. I want to rest my head on his shoulder. I want him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything is going to be okay, but the state that he’s in I know he can’t do that for me right now. Unfortunately we can’t sit still and be stagnant because we have a daughter and we have to fix this, or at least start somewhere.

“I’ll never forgive him,” he says bitterly wringing his hands together.

I sit beside him on the stairs. “I know you’re angry, and I cannot imagine what you’re feeling right now, but I have to know where we go from here?” My voice is shaking and reveals every nerve in it. He lifts his head, and I make my eyes meet his. At first, I expect his eyes to be hard and angry, but they’re not. They’re the same soft green I used to see, and the tightness in my chest goes away briefly.

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head and puts his head between his legs. I put my arm around his back and lean my head on his. Our fingers intertwine, and he grips mine back.

“You have every right to be angry, but you can’t let this anger and hate consume you. Don’t let it change you, please,” I tell him quietly. His previous limp body stiffens, and his hand releases mine. He stands abruptly and when he turns around the tightness in my chest is back. The soft green eyes that were just there are still the same in color, but his stare is hard and his faced locked into a scowl.

“So it’s okay for Cal to be pissed off and hate the world but it’s not okay for me to be upset?” he asks, defensiveness radiating off of him. My mouth drops open, and I’m so surprised I don’t know what to say.

“T-that’s not what I meant?”

“That is what you meant. It’s okay for him to fly off the handle, to even try to kill someone—but me—I get angry with my asshole father who screwed my best friend and lied about it for years, and it’s a problem!” He’s yelling and his face is red. I press my lips together to try to keep from saying the wrong thing. Chris has never talked to me like this.

“I-I didn’t say that! That’s not what I mean I just…” I stand and touch his chest and he backs away from me as if I have the plague.

“Then tell me. What did you mean?” He shouts, and I can feel my hands trembling.

“I only meant that…” I’m at a loss of what to say. The glare he’s giving me makes me think whatever I say won’t be the right thing.

“My dad is a cheating selfish asshole, but he was right. I’ll always be the consolation prize. I’ll never be good enough for you!” I feel tears in my eyes, sadness battling against anger because of his icy tone. My emotions battle against my better judgment and I want to lash out at him, to yell at him for questioning my love.

“You want to fight right now?” I ask him angrily, feeling a tear slide down my cheek. He scoffs at me. I storm into the guest bathroom and pull out the handheld mirror I keep there and stomp over to him and put it in his face. “That’s who you are fighting with!

“I am not going to do this with you. I am not going to be your verbal punching bag. I can’t, no. I won’t do it! I love you. I love every single part of you. So yes, I love Cal. I even love Collin. I’m sorry if that upsets you, if you’re going to punish me for that, if you’re going to hate me for it, but I don’t know what else to tell you. This is not a contest! I want you—the whole man—for our marriage, for our daughter. I don’t want one of you over the other, so let’s just get that out of the way right now!”

His scowl is still there, my heart is beating fast, but it feels like a piano just got off my chest. The truth is out, and I hope he gets it. I hope that he doesn’t take it the wrong way, but I cannot keep doing this with him. I cover my face with my hands. I want him to say something but the silence in the room is heavy, and his footsteps that follow it are almost devastating as I hear them quiet in the distance. He’s walking away from me, without a word, without a hint of what his response is. My head is hurting so badly to think about the pain that this is causing both of us. I’m going to bed, and will try to get some sleep and hope that my husband is still here when I wake up.

* * *

When I open my eyes, I see that it’s dark out. My eyes glide to the alarm clock on my dresser and see that it’s 7:20 pm and I’ve slept almost the whole day away. It makes sense since I’ve gotten almost no sleep over the past few days. I climb out of bed and rub my hands down my face. I went to bed frustrated and angry after the blowup with Chris, and in that moment I didn’t care where he went and if he’d be here when I woke up. Now dread wrapped around worry has crept in and I realize there’s a possibility that he may not be here. It subsides when I hear the shower running in the bathroom. I walk into the bathroom and brush my teeth glancing back at the steamed glass clouding my vision of him. I grab my phone off the sink that I don’t remember leaving in here, and dial Mrs. Scott’s number. I’m a little relieved when it goes to voicemail because I don’t know what to say to her, but I’m also disappointed because I don’t get to talk to Caylen. It’s been two days since she’s heard my voice or her father’s, and I miss her terribly.

“Hey, Mrs. Scott, just calling to check in and talk to Caylen….” I sigh not knowing what else to say. When am I going to tell her? Should Caylen be here while—whatever this can be labeled as—is happening?

“Tell Caylen that I love her, and I’ll see her soon. Just dealing with… Actually just call me when you get this message. Thank you so much again.” Mrs. Scott has been a godsend, even in the midst of all the chaos that’s in her own life; she has been so supportive of us. She said that Caylen has been a welcome distraction.

I lean back on the counter and realize it’s been so long since I’ve shared a bathroom with my husband. The last time he was here he used the guest room. My heart skips a beat because Chris has never used this shower. I inch closer to the shower and let out a small breath as I open the door, and the steam spills out. He doesn’t turn around, but I admire him from behind. His body is still perfect, created with the greatest skill to be the desire of any woman that lays eyes on it.

“Are you coming in?” His voice almost stills my heart because now I can’t tell them apart. Is it Chris or Cal? I won't lie and say in this second that I care. I strip out of my clothes and stand outside a few seconds before heading in. I close the door and step to the other side of the shower. The heat warms me, the humidity is almost like a drug. In here it’s like the outside world doesn’t exist, and for a moment it’s just him and me. In this space our problems are absent. I watch as soap and bubbles pour down his body, and I take in a breath sitting down on the bench in our shower letting the water wash over me. The sound of the water hitting the tile is hypnotic and I close my eyes and rest my head on the wall. I have the urge to say something, but I don’t want to say anything, I don’t want to ruin this moment, where I can pretend that things are okay and normal and I’m just in the shower with my husband. I want my husband to speak to me, to touch me and it seems so stupid in the midst of what’s going on but I’m relapsing, wanting to go back to when Cal could make everything better with his touch, make me forget with just his kiss. Whoever this is, is ignoring me completely.

“I think we should go back to Madison and be with your mom,” I blurt out quickly, and without much thought, but he doesn’t flinch. I hoped his response would clue me in to his mood.

“I miss Caylen.” My voice breaks, and tears begin to materialize.

“I miss her too.”

“I miss you too.” My first confession has opened a door of unspoken truths that I didn’t realize I would say until this moment. He turns around his hair sticking to his face, and his body a perfect vision with no soap hiding any of its glory. He looks at me with intense eyes, but I can’t read them. When he steps closer to me I get butterflies I’ve never felt before, and nervousness shoot through me. A grin spreads across his face.

“You miss me?” He smiles slyly his tone quizzical, but doesn’t hold the cockiness that Cal exudes. I swallow hard.

“Of course I do.” I can hear the hesitation in my voice. He steps closer to me, and I feel my back press harder against the wall behind me. I’m nervous, and he can tell as he laughs deep and low standing in front of me. He takes my hand and makes me stand up, pressing his body against mine, but something is off.

“Chris or Cal?” he asks, and there’s a glint in his eye that’s familiar but foreign.

“Collin?” I ask, slightly out of breath and his smirk stretches. I pull away from him almost sliding to the other side of the shower and slipping in the process. He grabs my elbow and steadies me laughing. I pull away from him and instinctively cover my body.

“I thought from that little speech out there, that it didn’t matter who I was. We’re all the same man that you love, right?” he asks haughtily. Leaning against the shower wall, my cheeks are on fire.

“Was that you out there?” I ask angrily.

“No technically Chris was ‘there’ if you want to call it that. Chris is all over the place right now, and your beloved Cal, well you saw the mess he was earlier. Those too can barely tie their own shoelaces right now.” His amused eyes sweep over my body, and I hug myself tighter.

“So what you said out there wasn’t true. There is a difference between us?” he asks with a knowing grin on his face.

“You know what I meant!” I tell him sternly, and I remember what he did to me the last time when he confronted Dexter without warning and unleashed Cal. “This is your fault!” I yell at him. He laughs at me dismissively.

“My fault? No, I’m not the one who tried to kill a man, or take a bottle full of pills to kill the rest of us,” he says stretching his arms over his head. I look away; staring at him suddenly feels wrong.

“No, but you went to Mr. Crestfield and if you hadn’t done that none of this would have happened. You could have given me some type of warning!”

“What’s happened wouldn’t have?” he asks amusedly.

I scowl at him. “Whatever this is.”

“You mean the psychotic break that ‘Chris’ had.” He uses air quotes and I grab the bottle of shampoo near me and throw it at him. He blocks it and only laughs at me.

“You could have told me what you knew.” I growl at him.

“You’re asking from me what neither Cal nor Chris has ever given to you. Why are so many special requirements asked of me?” He grins, but I refuse to back away from him this time. Even though I’ve only known this part of him briefly, he seems to be the most reasonable.

“I hoped that you and I could have a more transparent relationship,” I say looking him in the eye. His eyes remind me more of Cal’s than Chris, and without clothes on he’s much more familiar than when I saw him with a suit on and noticed how truly different he was.

“Tell me, what type of relationship do you want with me…” His voice is low and almost seductive. He lightly touches my chin lifting it so that I’m looking directly at him. He leans lower, so our lips are only inches apart.

I pull back from him in shock. Is he serious right now? Is this a test? I am so confused by how I am feeling. My body recognizes this man—it wants him—but after everything I said earlier, this doesn’t feel right. Well, he feels right up against me, but this wouldn’t be right. I can’t sleep with Collin. I don’t even know him, and his actions are confusing me. He drops my chin and takes a step back from me

“That’s always going to be the problem,” he tells me opening the door allowing the cold air to rush in. He steps out, and I’m left even more confused than before I walked in this shower. If Collin is here maybe he’s the one who will be able to finally give me some answers. I turn the water off and grab a towel to wrap around myself. I follow him and see him standing in front of our closet, the towel neatly folded on the bed instead of around him. I command my eyes to dart away. I sit on the bed making sure my own towel is still tight around my body even though he’s seen me completely naked. I think of how the last time he said he’s always there which means… I can’t think of what that means but my cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“You said earlier, that you missed Caylen. Was that true?” I ask curiously. This version of him seems so much more calculating. Collin reminds me more of Dexter than anyone which means he can be manipulative too.

“Of course it was.” He pulls out a pair of Cal’s slacks and a dark blue dress shirt. “She’s my daughter too,” he answers simply, and it sounds so odd that I have to laugh. I rest my head in my hands and ponder that notion.

“I may not be who you want here, ideally. However, I am the most stable now, and stability is what I assume that you’d want for Caylen?” I glance at him briefly and see he’s halfway dressed now.

“Yes,” I tell him honestly. Then I realize he’s not putting on pajamas or everyday clothing but a full on suit.

“Where are you going?” I ask him not hiding the worry in my voice. The last time he went out on his own disaster followed.

“We’re having dinner with Dexter and Helen.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “What? When did you set all of this up?”

“You’ve been asleep for most of the day. I thought we should probably get life moving along. I know you process things internally, but I prefer action through movement and accomplishments,” he jokes but his tone borders on condescending.

“What does that mean?”

“See this. The talking, the analyzing instead of actions.” He puts on his tie.

“I’m not going,” I tell him stubbornly. He stops and looks over at me, his stare so pointed that I look away from him.

“So if I didn’t invite you, you’d swear that there was a conspiracy going on to keep you in the dark.”

“I don’t trust them, and I’m not sure if I trust you. All of you have lied and kept things from me, and I feel like a pawn in a stupid chess game!” I screech, but he doesn’t flinch, he just shakes his head.

“You can choose to stay or go. Either way, I will be leaving in the next hour.” He walks to the door but stops before leaving out of it. “However, if I were you I’d like to be a part of the dinner with my husband’s newfound brother and psychiatrist,” he smiles and adds a wink for good measure, but it’s nothing like Cal’s.

* * *

I don’t know how he did it, but somehow it seems that we now have a white Bentley. Not a Mercedes, or a BMW, or even a freaking Ashton Martin. A Bentley. I did my best to hide my surprise when the driver brought it around, but it was extremely hard to do and even harder not to ask how he got it. I’m learning that Collin is extremely resourceful. The car fits him though, classic and arrogant. He doesn’t even listen to music but news radio, which is annoying but I really don’t want to talk to him. His hair makes him look like a modern James Bond, and I wonder if he was created based off Chris loving those movies. He’s clean and well-kept, everything is in place, and I grin to myself and decide to have some fun.

“Are you gay?” I see that he briefly glances at me and I spot the hint of a smirk.

“I ask because I was reading that sometimes an alter can have different sexual orientations.” I shift my body to look at him waiting for a response. “You are aren’t you?!” I say excitedly when he doesn’t respond. It would certainly make things easier.

“If I were you I wouldn’t be so excited because that would make things a whole world more complicated for you,” he answers smugly, and my triumphant smile immediately falls. Shit, I didn’t think of that.

“Don’t panic. I’m not gay.”

I let out a quiet sigh of relief and hope that he doesn’t notice. I also pull up the low-cut top on my dress a bit more.

“You look beautiful… by the way,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Thank you.” A few minutes pass, and I feel nervous, jittery, and completely vulnerable, as if I’m a child sitting at the adult table.

“By the way, they know that we’re joining them. I remember what a surprise it was the last time you were my companion of the night. As long as you promise to keep those passionate outbursts in check tonight, we should be ok.” He counters, and I realize he’s referring to the time I slapped Helen. I hate that he knows so much.

“No promises.” We pull up in front of the restaurant, behind cars as grand as the one we’re in. He gets out of the car, and I’m surprised when he opens the door for me and stretches out his hand. I look at him suspiciously.

“I know that you aren’t used to being around a gentleman, but this is the part where you take my arm.” I scowl at him but grip his hand tightly and get out of the car. He takes my arm and in the same second tosses the keys to the valet person.

“Just so you know both Cal and Chris are gentleman in their own ways,” I tell him tightly as we reach the door to the restaurant, which he makes sure to open for me. The hostess, a beautiful girl who can’t be more than twenty, smiles brightly up at him. Regardless of who he thinks himself to be, he’s still irritatingly handsome, and I must admit that there is something charming about Collin. He tells her our name, and she tells us to follow her upstairs to the center of the restaurant. Near the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake is our table, and there awaits Dexter and Helen. My stomach drops at the sight of them. Dexter stands as we approach, and Helen looks over at us with a cautious smile. I can’t even manage to muster a fake one.

“Lauren, Collin.” Hearing Dexter say his name makes my jaw tighten. “You look beautiful,” he adds attempting to kiss my cheek. A kiss I avoid quickly.

“She’s not in the greatest mood,” Collin answers for me with that smug grin of his. Helen stands and allows Collin to kiss her on the cheek and glances at me quickly, as if she’s expecting me to pounce. It’s taking everything in me not to, but I take a deep breath and try to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe just maybe they didn’t know about Collin, maybe he just called them up and introduced himself today. Collin pulls my chair out before sitting down himself.

“We’ve taken the liberty of ordering wine already,” Dexter tells us. I quickly grab the bottle and pour. I turn to Collin.

“So do you drink?” I ask snidely. I’m angry, angrier than I was earlier, angry that I have to sit here with these people who are looking at me as if I’m a case study. Hell, I am a walking and breathing one. How many men does it take to break Lauren Scott?

“Not excessively,” he replies evenly. I roll my eyes at that comment before taking a sip that turns into a large gulp and then the entire glass.

“Well, I plan on drinking enough for both of us,” I answer after I finish. He only chuckles shortly. I turn my attention to Helen and Dexter.

“So, you’re all familiar with each other it seems. When did this happen?” I ask sarcastically. Helen clears her throat.

“Collin and I met some time ago,” she says steadily.

“Of course you did!” I laugh angrily.

“I can understand you being upset,” Helen says having the audacity to sound empathetic.

“Upset,” I cackle. “Oh, why would I be upset? It’s not as if you all haven’t lied and kept secrets about my husband since I’ve met you. Why would this be any different?”

Before they can respond, a waiter has arrived. He reads off the specials, and what he suggests. Helen and Dexter order something that sounds exotic, expensive, and something I wouldn’t eat in a million years. Collin orders lobster, which is not surprising. I tell the waiter I won’t be dining tonight, even though I’m hungry. I refuse to eat with my enemies.

“She’ll have the filet mignon medium well with sautéed spinach and the twice baked potato,” Collin tells the waiter.

It’s exactly what I would have ordered if I were going to actually order. I should find it endearing, but instead, I’m annoyed by it. It’s just another reminder of how much these people know about me and how little I know about them. I listen to them make small polite talk, and it turns my stomach. I’m on my third glass of wine when Collin leans down near my ear; I hate my heart for speeding up.

“I think you should slow down a bit sweetheart.”

I turn to him with a sweet smile. “I’m not your sweetheart,” I say acidly. He takes in a sharp breath. For the first time this evening, he seems affected, and I smile to myself in satisfaction. For a while, I thought he was unrattable? Is unrattable a word? I giggle to myself.

“Collin, how about we go to the bar for a quick drink,” Dexter suggests, and Collin looks a bit relieved. The tension at the table was unbearable before my second glass and is only a tad less now that I’m on my third glass.

“I’d be happy to join you.” Collin stands adjusting his suit jacket. I roll my eyes. However I’m surprised when he leans down and his cheek touches mine. I scold myself for thinking how good he smells.

“Don’t sit here stewing and getting drunk. If you want answers, ask the questions. These passive-aggressive tantrums you throw are never effective,” he whispers to me.

My mouth falls open but before I can respond, he’s gone from the table. I narrow my eyes on him and Dexter as they leave. If I could, I’d burn a hole in his jacket because he doesn’t look back at me once.

“Would it be presumptuous of me to ask how you’re doing?” I look over at Helen forgetting that she was here for a moment. My first thought is to grab my glass and pour another glass of wine and ignore her, but Collin’s words echo in my head.

He’s right, I hate to admit it but he is, so instead, I grab the glass I haven’t touched all night and take a sip of water and look at Helen. She’s perfectly made up tonight, beautiful and sophisticated with the right hint of empathy and concern matching her perfectly manicured hands and upswept hair. At first look, she’s just a beautiful kept woman, but I’ve learned Helen is so much more than that. Cal was always right about her. It makes sense that she’s a doctor. She’s obviously a master manipulator, deceptively agenda-less, but I’m learning all the Crestfields have an agenda. Hell Scotts, Crestfields, and I’ve married into both.

“I know that I haven’t been forthcoming with you.”

I fold my arms across my chest.

“You know Helen, I think my problem is that I’ve thought of you as a friend. If I take that title out of the equation, I can stop feeling betrayed and manipulated.”

She nods, thankfully agreeing that she isn’t my friend and it stings a tiny bit but I appreciate her not patronizing me.

“I think that would be best during his treatment.”

“So has Collin updated you on all that’s happened,” I ask trying to keep my tone even. She nods.

“He wants to start working with Crestfield Corporation,” Helen reveals, though it’s not much of a reveal because it doesn’t surprise me. I definitely couldn’t see Collin being a farmhand or high school teacher.

“And exactly how would they all work that out?” I ask trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. I shake my head and lean forward feeling my throat tighten.

“Things are not good. Cal is…. he’s not okay, and Chris was… not exactly himself, and Collin has popped up again. Things are not okay. What am I supposed to do, just smile and play pretend wife to Collin?” I ask hearing the desperation creep into my voice. I’m mad at Helen. I don’t trust her, but right now it’s as if she’s the only one that could offer any enlightenment into how this works.

“I have a daughter that I have to get back to, and I really don’t want her involved in this… I don’t know what to call it. Less than three days ago my husband tried to kill a man, a day ago he exploded on his dad and threw him out. Not that he didn’t deserve it, but I am at a complete loss of what I should be doing!” My voice is panicked, and I’ve revealed more of what’s inside of me than I originally intended, but Helen looks on calm and collected, not the least bit surprised or rattled by the things I’ve told her. It actually feels good to say out loud what I’ve been holding in.

“And this switching or, I’m sorry, transitioning that’s happening, it’s so taxing to say the least. Now there’s another person that I have to deal with, who is so different from Cal and Chris, and he’s so smug and self-satisfying which wouldn’t bother me so much if I didn’t feel so clueless,” I admit.

“Out of the alters, Collin is probably the one who you can learn the most from, Lauren.”

I glare at her. “I thought after everything that’s happened, with all the secrets being out, us knowing the reasons for what happened that…” I chuckle at my foolishness. “I just thought it would fix everything and it hasn’t, and now it makes me wonder if there will ever be a ‘fix.’” I admit.

“If there wasn’t a solution, would you walk away?” Her eyes narrow on mine.

Walk away, as if it’s that easy. I guess for some women it would be. I try to picture my life married to another man, a normal man. I don’t even know how I would function with someone normal, and even if I did choose to walk away, it’s not as if I could just walk away from this and never look back. He’s my daughter’s father. And aside from that, I love him—in the midst of the craziness, heartache, and pain—I love him with everything in me. Walking away is laughable and not an option.

“No,” I answer her simply.

“I think it’s important that you talk to someone.” Helen takes a sip of her water while I mentally run through the people closest to me in my life. Not one of them would understand. Not Raven, Angela, and especially not Hillary.

“I mean a therapist,” she says reading my mind.

“It doesn’t have to be me of course,” she adds quickly. I rub my temple, my brain hurts thinking about explaining all of this to someone else. I glance at her.

“Would it be a conflict of interest if I did choose to see you… just to talk. I know you couldn’t tell me what happens with his sessions.”

“No, and technically I’m not Chris’ doctor only Cal and Collin will talk to me.”

“I’m really worried about them… him,” I shake my head. “I’d never seen Cal the way he was before Chris came out, and then Collin took over,” I sort of ramble. I drink more water trying to rinse the alcohol out of my system. I feel my thoughts becoming heavy and I need a clear head to discuss this with Helen.

“And I don’t really know Collin, he’s a new person to get to know, and it’s weird being around him. Which I guess weirdness is obviously my new normal.”

“Of the three, Collin seems to be the most reasonable. He acts less out of impulse and emotion. He’s the thinker. Again, this is my perception of him, since we have not spoken in a therapy session.”

“He is the most calculating,” I retort, my eyes drawn to him at the bar where I see several women glancing his way.

“More Crestfield,” she says, and our eyes meet in some sort of unspoken understanding. “They all seem to have different motivations. What will move one may not move the other. They all respond differently. Have you ever taken a psychology class?”

“Yes, one in high school and college.”

“So in the most basic class you learn about psychic apparatus, Freud’s theory of an individual’s mental construct or psyche. Do you remember what id is?” She looks at me questioningly.

“Vaguely.”

“Okay. Id is impulsive, uncoordinated instinctual behaviors, which would be…” she trails off waiting for me to answer.

“Cal,” I guess quietly, and she nods.

“Then we have the super-ego which is our morals, our values…” she explains.

“Chris,” I answer, and she nods excitedly.

“Then we have ego, which is the organized, realistic part of us that is the go-between of the desires of the id and the super-ego. Which would be…”

“Collin,” I say, the realization dawning on me.

“You can’t have one aspect of the personality without the others. Together they create balance. I will say if there is a hope for integration to be possible, Collin would be the key to that.”

That statement alone causes my stomach and my head to drop.

“Lauren,” her voice is authoritative and makes me look directly into her warm eyes.

“I know that you love Cal. I know that you’ve grown to love Chris. I know that you don’t know Collin and he is very different from them, but he is every bit as much as your husband as Cal and Chris are. He is not an outsider or a guest star in your life, he’s a main player. To underestimate his significance or to attempt to alienate him would not be the smartest thing to do.”

I think back to earlier in the shower when I told him I missed Caylen and he said that he did too. Then, I thought he just said it to make me believe he was Chris or Cal, for it to be a gotcha moment when I realized that he wasn’t them. Now I think he may have meant it, and if he loves Caylen, that makes this a lot easier. Our waiter arrives and starts laying out the food for us. Helen and I break our gaze, and instantly she’s back to being the beautiful Crestfield woman who is just out for a lovely dinner. My eyes watch Dexter and Collin as they head back toward the table. Two Crestfield men. I briefly look at Helen and realize if I’m going to stay in this game, I’ll have to upgrade from checkers to chess.

It makes me nervous just thinking about it.

* * *

The rest of dinner went by smoothly. I stayed quiet most of the time, and I did manage to clean my entire plate that I planned on not ordering. Collin did grin at that. I watched him closer than I had before. There are differences, aside from him being cleaner cut than Chris, and more manicured than Cal, he is extremely articulate. He’s also attentive. I catch him watching me on more than one occasion, though catch may be the wrong word because it’s not as if he was doing it in secret. I feel like all of his actions are deliberate and not without thought. He is polite and extremely well-mannered. Cal is all confidence and cockiness, he could give a shit about who liked him or not, and that came with a sort of arrogance, but Collin is different. There’s an air to him—the type that comes with people who grew up with money—that realizes the world is watching them. I could lie to say I’m not fascinated by it. How there are resemblances of both Chris and Cal that I caught that those two don’t share.

Our ride back home is quiet, and this time instead of news radio he listens to smooth jazz, which surprises me.

“It helps me think,” he says aloud as if reading my mind, “and I remember that you enjoyed it too.” I glance at him and close my eyes. I remember the last time he was here, he said that he knew a lot. From him ordering for me at dinner, he obviously knows a lot about me, but he knows details, facts, and history. He doesn’t know me… I’m more than just a list of facts. But I know better than to underestimate him, what he knows and doesn’t know. I slip off my heels that seem smaller since the last time that I wore them. I try to remember when that was. It was with Cal when we went to elegant restaurants that used to excite me when we first started dating. The upscale restaurants never stopped, but I valued our alone time more than being out when things started to crumble with his so-called “business trips” as he referred to them back then.

“Can I ask you a question?” my voice is quiet and void of any resentment or sarcasm. I see his eyebrow lift ever so slightly.

“Of course.”

“You said earlier that you missed Caylen. Is that true or…”

“I don’t have a reason to lie to you, remember I don’t have an agenda.”

I frown a bit. “Everyone has an agenda. I’ve learned that the hard way.”

“Well, mine doesn’t need you to be in the dark or require you to believe anything other than the truth.”

I fight the urge to tell him that I don’t believe him, but I realize that isn’t going to get either of us anywhere.

“I want to ask you something, and it might not go along with your “agenda,” but I think it would be good… for all of us.”

I wait for him to give some type of indication, or tell me that he’s ok with my question but he doesn’t.

“And you don’t have to answer yes or no right now, but I hope that you’d consider it.” I tell him reluctantly, and I see a small smile break on his face.

“Okay,” he says.

“I think we should go back and stay in Michigan with Mrs. Scott for a while,” I blurt out quick and look away from him once I say it. I think back to the time before I knew about his condition when I knew something was wrong. I had no clue and had asked him to go back to Raven’s with me. I remember thinking how much was riding on his answer. How much I needed him to say yes to give me faith back then, and how I knew if he said no that we were hopeless. This time it’s different. Now I know the truth. Now things have changed so much, and we’re both different people. This man is new and different, and in a way, I feel at his mercy. I know that Collin is set on taking over the Crestfield name and all that goes with it. I think he mainly wants money, and maybe the prestige. I can see Cal going along with that plan, but Chris definitely wouldn’t want any part of it—well the Chris I knew wouldn’t—but the Chris I saw last wasn’t anything like the Chris I knew.

“I know you’re trying to take over the Crestfield Empire and what not,” I say trying to keep the sarcasm and disdain out of my voice.

“I only want what’s owed to us. I’m securing financial stability not just for us but also for Caylen, and for Caylen's children. After everything, we’re owed that,” he says evenly.

“I understand, but can you do that remotely for a little while?”

“I will let you know.”

The rest of the ride home is quiet and when we arrive Collin gets out and helps me out of the car. Even though I don’t need it, he makes sure to open every door for me. He’s gallant, but distant. I’m tired, and the wine from earlier hasn’t entirely worn off, so I head upstairs and strip out of my clothes and fall across the bed. I think about everything that’s happened over the past few days and exhale. I grab my phone and see that I have a ton of missed calls and texts from everyone including Mrs. Scott, Raven, and Mr. Scott. I decide to write a mass text to all of them letting them know that I’m okay and will call everyone tomorrow. I edit it to add ‘we’re’ okay.

* * *

I wake up to see Collin standing in front of me, fully dressed but this time in a tan sweater over a white-collared shirt and khakis. He looks like a model straight out of Ralph Lauren.

“If we’re going to get to Madison before noon, you should probably start preparing. I’d prefer an early start.”

And just like that, he leaves the room. I rub my eyes and to make sure I’m not dreaming I pinch myself.