Collin

I should have counted on this to happen. He’s impulsive, selfish, and completely unreasonable. It’s not a surprise that he’s gone quiet but that he’s been so successful at doing it, that does surprise me. I knew there would be a risk in being with Lauren, but Cal has to know that without me being his ally, he’s more impotent than Chris is. I’m the reason why he knows when Chris will take over, why he knows as much as he does. For him to shut me out, to not talk to me is laughable. He is childish, temperamental, and rash and this is the reason he can’t be the boss he so badly craves to be.

“Nothing yet?” Helen’s voice echoes in my ear.

I shift in my seat and try to concentrate more, but there’s nothing. I haven’t heard from him since that night when Lauren chose me.

“I know you’re there, Cal. I know you’re upset, so stop behaving like a child and talk to me.” I mentally shout at him in my head.

“I just need more time,” I tell Helen when I tune back in with her in our session. Her face is blank only wearing her usual neutral smile, but I can tell that she’s curious as to why this is taking so long. I’m sure the wheels are turning in her head coming up with a theory for it all before she’s even spoken to me.

“Okay.”

I’ve been tuning in trying to reach him, but I’ve had no success. I thought he’d at least try in our sessions to cooperate remembering that we’re on the same team, but again I’ve given him too much credit.

“Calvin, I understand you’re upset, but I told you when this happened with Chris that it was inevitable. Lauren is lonely and she loves us. I know you’re not happy about us making love…”

“Making love?” his voice cracks through my skull.

Finally, he’s talking, that’s the first step but from his tone, I can tell this conversation isn’t going to be civil.

“You’re such a fucking pussy.”

“She loves us… You’re delusional. Lauren doesn’t love you or Chris. Though he’s further up the totem pole than you are.” He laughs condescendingly.

“Right. She loves you, Cal, just you,” I reply unable to contain my sarcasm.

“You’re supposed to be the ‘logical one’, but now since you’re in the driver seat you aren’t thinking straight. You know it’s me she loves, who she wants, who she’d choose.”

I let out a deep breath. “It isn’t about choosing, Cal and you know that. How many times do I have to explain this to you? We are inevitably going to be one, not three, one… she loves us not just you.”

“You think because you read my daughter Harry Potter and got Lauren a place for her gallery—that was my idea in the first place—that she’s falling for you? You’re a pathetic shitty fill-in for me. Everything you know about her is because of me. You’re worse than Chris— you’re a parasite.” I hear bitter laughter in my ear. “No, you’re a fucking psychopath. You mimic emotion because you don’t feel it. You don’t even have your own personality. You’re a knockoff of Dexter!”

I swallow hard, knowing that this is what Cal does. He gets underneath people’s skin by insulting them, taking away their power by causing them to react emotionally. I’m just not used to him directing his insults at me.

“You have every right to your opinion Cal, but you forget that we’re on the same team… and I’m the coach, you’re just a player…” I probably shouldn’t have added the last part, but he’s so snide sometimes that I just want to retaliate back.

“What are they saying,” Helen asks, and I wonder if I’m not doing a good job as I thought being unreadable.

“Listen, you arrogant little fucker. I never thought you’d cross me. That was my bad, my screw up…” He laughs. “But you know better than to screw my wife. I thought we were a team. Do you think I’m going to let that slide?”

“Collin?” Helen asks urgently.

“You’re supposed to be neutral—you don’t do what we do! Aren’t you better, supposedly superior? You’re a piece of shit, that’s what you are… I’m warning you, touch her again, it's war.”

I laugh at him. “Well, in that case, you won’t know what you can’t see. You’re on time-out.”

“What the fuck does that mean, if you…!”

I open my eyes. “I’m shut out,” I tell Helen. She’s sitting in front of me with a strained look on her face. She’s good at hiding her feelings under veiled expressions, but I know she’s annoyed. “That’s never happened before,” she says quietly.

I stand from my seat and walk to the window and pretend to be distracted with the people below us, but instead, Calvin’s words echo through my mind. Not just the insults, but also the insinuation behind them. He’s upset and reckless, and I’ll have to keep him at bay, which means letting Chris out in order to contain him.

“I know. They’re just being stubborn,” I tell her returning to my seat.

“Has something changed?”

I don’t lie to Helen. It’s never been in my interest to but she’s not going to like what I have to tell her and it’s always in my best interest to tell Helen things that she likes to hear. Seeing as she’s the one person that can eventually fix us, it’s hard to not be less than transparent with her than I’d like.

“Calvin is upset because Lauren and I had sex.” I notice her eyes widen just the tiniest bit. She nods as if taking in what I just said and crosses her legs shifting in her seat. She knows Calvin and sometimes I get an inkling that she likes him the most of all of us. She never got a chance to know Chris as he finds her repugnant, and I know I am the most forthcoming with her—the most useful when it comes to providing her solutions and information—but she knew Calvin first. Sometimes people, even those who understand emotions better than most, are swayed by that as if the first is better.

“Now things are becoming clearer,” she says simply with a half-smile. “I can imagine how that’s going over with Cal.”

“Exactly as you’d think.”

“So, he’s refusing to talk or is it that he’s talking too much?”

“He’s not saying anything of use, and I don’t think he’ll be cooperating in our sessions, so I’m shutting him out for now.”

“And you think that would be the most appropriate thing at this point, Collin?” She narrows her eyes at me.

“I believe it is. He’ll calm down eventually.”

She lets out a deep sigh. “Cal needs treatment, Collin. He has to be able to cope with the memories that’s resurfaced.”

I look at her blankly. She acts as if I’m a new guest to this party.

“He keeps having dreams of that night…. he says that with each dream there is something different each time. Sometimes the room is different, the color of his mother’s hair, her dress…” Helen says and I’m bored.

“It’s because he’s having trouble coming to the conclusion that what happened really did happen, Helen.” I am irritated and it’s creeping out in my tone.

“Well, him being able to cope with the series of events is essential for all of you. If he doesn’t work this out…”

“He won’t resurface if I don’t let him.”

The corner of her eyes crinkle. “You don’t know what problems that could create, Collin. It seems as if you’re acting more out of emotion.”

“I’m acting out of what’s best for us. I always do.” I remind her.

“Well, Cal shutting you and me out isn’t what’s best for anyone. I need to continue to speak with him, Collin. He has to process these emotions, memories, and he has to heal,” she urges, and I try to keep the last thread of my patience.

“Helen, he’s a grown man, he’s not a six-year-old boy.”

“And that’s exactly who I want him to remain, Collin. You guys can barely get along with each other, and the last thing I would want is for any of you to have to nurture a six-year-old,” she says pointedly.

“Look, the last thing on Calvin’s mind at the moment is healing. He’s angry with me, and that makes him reckless, so this is for the best. Besides, he knows that without me he’s as powerless as Chris.”

“And you without him?” She counters, and her smile is on the edge of sly and suppressed.

I smile widely at her. “You know, I think out of all of us we have the clearest understanding wouldn’t you say?”

She tilts her head as if examining me as a new personality altogether. “My understanding is that I’m a neutral party in this, Collin. I am an ally of each of you and my purpose is to have all of you live the best life available to you.” Her answer is smooth but practiced and mechanical and I’m insulted that she thinks that her reply is something that would work with me.

I lean forward a bit in my chair “I think I’ve been a great help to you,” I stand and fold my arms.

“You’ve been very proactive with your treatment, I’d never deny that.”

I chuckle. “What is it like being married to Dexter?” I ask, and her eyes perk up, obviously thrown off by my question.

“I’m sorry?” She covers her confusion well.

“To be someone who had so much potential? At the top of your class, a brilliant mind in your field and the day you married him, all of your accomplishments suddenly overshadowed by a family name that you couldn’t hope to climb from underneath,” I say quietly, and her smile fades a bit.

“Well, it seemed nearly impossible until Dexter Jr. let you in on our little secret…”

Her eyes narrow in on mine. “Are you implying that I have some sort of vested interest in your case?”

“No I’m not saying that at all,” I tell her as our eyes meet. I walk to the window feeling her eyes on me. “The opportunity to legitimize a disorder that so many scoff at. Or to create a new treatment entirely, maybe even something that would replace integration…now that…that could be something.”

“So I ask you again. I have been very beneficial to you, wouldn’t you say that?” I ask her and she nods, but the tension in the room has changed, and the curtain has gone up from her little production.

“I am the glue, the coach of the team, the conductor behind the orchestra, so let’s say you were looking to gain recognition or acclaim off our little problem, make the best out of our unfortunate circumstance that your brilliant mind helped fix. You’d need me… hypothetically.” I give her a charming grin.

“You can’t depend on Cal, his own wife can’t do that. Chris, well, we all know he’s about as clueless as a toddler. I would just think if I were a brilliant woman such as yourself, I’d place my bets with someone who thinks more logically than the others.”

“I think our session is up. Would you like me to extend it?” she asks tightly as I refuse.

“No, I think we’ve covered enough for today.” We walk to the door, and she opens it for me.

“I could have gotten that,” I smile at her and she smiles back her own just as charming.

“Next week then?”

“Next week,” I kiss her cheek and she squeezes my arm.

We have an understanding.

We better.

* * *

Lauren

“Oh my gosh this is freakin’ unbelievable,” Angela squeals as we finish our tour of the gallery. For the past three weeks I’ve spent my days here, meeting with designers, trying to locate artists, all the fun stuff to get the gallery opened. Collin took care of the boring parts as far as paperwork, taxes, etc. It feels so good to be back working, having something that’s just mine.

“I’m still sort of in awe of it all,” I admit.

Angie is beaming and takes my hand. “You worked for this. After everything that’s been going on, you deserve it.”

It’s been three weeks since Collin brought me here, and back then it was already in move-in ready condition. Now my furniture has arrived and I have a large, sleek, white desk in my office. The actual gallery where we’ll showcase the work is sparse but the lighting is phenomenal. It should be because it cost more than anything else I’ve spent money on. Next month I’ll be opening the gallery and featuring two artists I worked with in school.

“It’s just surreal that it’s all happening and so fast.” I still feel like I’m in a dream. After not working other than freelance editing here and there since college, to be doing something I only dreamed about just a few years ago is surreal.

“But it should have happened a long time ago.” She loops arms with me as we sit on the new couch I just ordered. I smile and rest my head on her shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I missed you so much.” I squeeze her arm. I haven’t seen Angela in months, with her being knee-deep in finishing her master’s program and all of the crap that fell out of the sky on me.

“I know! You wouldn’t believe the amount of paper work I have to do for each client and with my graduate assistantship, and classes—things are insane!” She whines, but her eyes are bright and she looks so happy.

“I’m so proud of you. You’re a real therapist!”

She sighs throwing her head back into the couch. “I think I’m going to get my doctorate.” She grins at me and I laugh.

“Really Ang?”

“I don’t know. I mean I can practice as a therapist now, but my parents are hinting that they’d be thrilled if I became a psychologist and it’s their money paying for school,” she sighs.

“If you decide to, will I have to call you Dr. Angela,” I tease her.

“Of course not, honey. Dr. Fabulous would be just fine,” she says dramatically, and we both laugh and take in the moment.

“You know… that means if you ever want to talk to me about anything, I can listen and give unbiased advice. It’s sort of a requirement now.”

“You’ve heard enough from me for an entire decade I’m sure.”

“Seriously Lauren. I can’t imagine you holding everything that you’re dealing with inside. Not knowing who to tell what to. I’ve always listened as a friend, but now things are different.”

I lean back on the couch and rub my hands against my thighs. “I’m happy,” I tell her quietly.

“That’s great…” She trails off waiting for me to expand.

“I just feel so bad about it.”

“You feel guilty? Because it’s with Collin,” she guesses.

I have to give Angie credit at how casual she took me telling her about Collin, but she is a licensed professional counselor now, it could just go with the territory.

“I’m worried about Chris and Cal…. things have just been so easy since Collin has been here. He’s wonderful, but I know it’s not real. I know that the clock is ticking until a disaster happens, until…” I pause to collect my thoughts. “On the surface things are great… but beneath, I know they’re not, and it’s like, how dare I just pretend that everything is ok? I feel like I should be doing something to help them fix things,” I feel a tear fall from my eye.

“Do you think that they’d want you to be unhappy?” Angela asks and I laugh.

“You know Cal. Do you think he’d be fine with me playing happily ever after with Collin?” I chuckle bitterly.

“Lauren, you have to stop thinking of them as individuals. That’s what’s making this so hard for you,” she squeezes my hand. I stand up and walk to the other side of the room.

“But Angie you don’t understand. I know they’re one person. I get it, but when you have these personalities that look at you in different ways, who speak differently, who make you feel things the others don’t, it’s hard to feel like that. I feel like I’ve abandoned Cal and Chris.”

“Lauren, they are not all different men. They are one. They are all different facets of your husband. You are not cheating on Cal or Chris.”

“They’re not integrated yet though and until they are….” I cover my face in my hands. “His doctor said I shouldn’t have slept with them, and I’ve slept with all three of them,” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat up.

“How do you feel about the doctor?”

I swallow hard and my cheeks heat up even more. “It’s Helen,” I squeak out, and her eyes squint at me.

“Dexter’s wife? You’re still seeing her, getting advice from her after everything that’s happened?” Angela gawks at me.

“It just seems easier to talk to her since she won’t think I’m crazy and because she knows the history.”

“I understand that you feel like you’re alone in dealing with this. I can’t imagine what it is like to be so close to someone with Cal’s condition, but when you talk to a mental health professional, you don’t have to worry about anyone thinking that you’re crazy. We’re here to be your partner.” She says convincingly.

“Be honest though, if you didn’t know me and I came to see you, you’d think I was insane or an idiot to believe this?”

She frowns. “No, maybe years ago but after everything I’ve learned, the human mind is a miraculous thing, Lauren. When you grasp the things that it’s capable of, not much would surprise me now. What I will say though, I don’t think you should be seeing Helen, not primarily at least. It’s such a conflict of interest,” she frowns. I rub the back of my neck, the hairs sticking up on it.

“When we last talked you were vehemently opposed to it, even Chris didn’t want to see her. What changed?” she asked sincerely.

“Everything happened so fast, problem after problem…” I tell her even though I leave out Mr. Crestfield’s threat. “And… I just wanted to talk to someone who understands, and even though Helen has kept so much from me, I know at least that she gets it,” I say honestly.

“Have you thought about attending a support group?”

I push my hands through my hair, my stomach tilting at the mention of it. It’s not as if I haven’t thought about it. It’s just in some part of my mind when I cross into that world, it seems like there will be no going back. What if I hear things I’m not prepared for, and to be honest I’m terrified of hearing from other people. What if this never ends?

“I’m scared,” I feel my lip quiver. She looks at me, empathy radiating off of her. “I peeked in on a message board once…” I take a deep breath. “It wasn’t exactly a hopeful forum.” I tell her the few stories I skimmed through, traces of familiar things in my life and what’s even scarier, the unfamiliar that could eventually be the inevitable.

“It’s for support, not for you to compare. Everyone deals with things differently, but don’t you think having someone to talk to who has a similar circumstance would help you?”

I try to imagine it, talking to another woman who doesn’t only understand but who knows what it’s like.

“I really hope you consider seeing someone else. What about the doctor Chris was going to originally see?” I think back to Dr. Clemons, and how when Chris called to see her she was magically booked.

“Chris did say that he felt comfortable with her, well the one time he did see her.” I don’t tell her about Mr. Crestfield’s threat. With so much that’s happened, it was one of the last things I’ve had a chance to think about.

“I’m always here to listen, but if she has expertise in that field, I think that she’d be more helpful than I would. You have to have your own understanding of what’s going on,” she stresses. I promise her that I will give Dr. Clemons a call, and quickly change the subject. Angie being intuitive as she is doesn’t push me anymore. We talk about Caylen, her parents, and patient sessions. She doesn’t give me any juicy details of course, but explains how nervous and excited she is. We go to lunch and even stop by her favorite boutique, and I relish the time, time where I get to feel normal, where I’m just a woman who’s out with her friend trying to find a cute blouse and jeans and I hug her for that.

* * *

“Red and blue,” I tell Caylen as she squishes her hands in the paint. She giggles after she mixes the colors together. “Already a little artist,” I kiss her on the cheek.

“Mama,” she squeals hitting the paper before swirling her fingers around in it. I let her busy herself with her own artistic masterpiece and put more paint on my fingers and spread them across the large board. She douses her hand in orange paint now and makes little dots then pushes away the little bowl and pours out all the blue onto the board.

“Beautiful! You really like blue, huh?” I laugh as she smiles and it’s the best feeling in the world. Her grey eyes lighting up look just like her father’s, and a slither of sadness goes through me because I think of Cal. I think of all the time he’s missed out on with her, but I tell myself that they’re all the same, he is still with her as Collin, but I can’t shake the feeling.

“Boo,” Caylen says in between giggles and I smile widely at her.

“Blue. Good job sweetie.” I hear the door open and see Collin, his eyes lighting up the moment he lays eyes on her.

“Look at my little Picasso,” he says excitedly. Caylen pushes herself up and hobbles over to him.

“No you’re going to get paint all over daddy, Cay,” I tell her but he picks her up and kisses her cheek as if he’s not wearing a thousand dollar suit.

“That’s the most amazing picture I’ve ever seen!” he says enthusiastically and she grips his face leaving a blue handprint on it and giggles.

“How was your day?” I ask after he puts his briefcase down and sits in the spot Caylen was just in.

“Interesting.” He takes off his suit jacket and folds it even though I’ll have to send it to the cleaners.

“Sparse on details, huh?” I chuckle, and he grins.

“Let’s see what I can come up with,” he says his attention on Caylen. I feel my brow arch. Collin is never short on details; he often gives too much information if anything.

“Did you eat?”

He shakes his head.

“How long have you both been at this?”

“Maybe a half hour. I’m going to give her a bath.” I stand and stretch.

“I have a bag of stir-fry I can whip up if you want to read to her after her bath while I make it,” I say while he hands Caylen to me. His eyes are grey like Cal’s but there are no swirls of green around the iris. They seem dull today, and he yawns. He’s tired, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him tired before. He follows me up the stairs, him heading into our bedroom to shower and me into our guest bath to clean up Caylen. Today’s Thursday which means he’s met with Helen. He never really talks about his sessions with her, only saying that they’re making progress and I never ask about much because I’ve become accustomed to not getting answers or because I’m afraid to hear them. Today I think I’ll put his words to the test. He says we’re on the same side, that he won’t hide anything from me, so I think it’s time I know more of what’s going on whether I like the answer or not. I sing to Caylen while bathing her as she splashes water and bubbles all over me and I think of Chris. When I wrap her in a towel and change her clothing I think of my approach. Collin is so different from Chris and Cal. He appears transparent, but I don’t know if it’s because he knows that’s what I crave or if he is really like that. By the time I’m done bathing her, he’s out of the shower, wearing a pair of white pajamas that look silk with an East Asian design. I swear he has more clothes than me, and he smells delicious and fresh. His hair is pulled into a man bun, and I have to conceal a giggle because it’s so different from anything Cal or Chris would wear, but he looks good. We swap off Caylen and I take a really quick shower, throw my hair in a bun, and whip up the stir-fry I’ve perfected.

“Perfect timing,” I grin as he makes his way into the kitchen. He pulls out a bottle of wine and opens it as I plate the food.

“Wine tonight?” I ask curiously. He doesn’t really drink, he’s only drunk three times around me and it’s always been cognac.

“It’s for you,” he retorts teasingly while pouring me a glass and sitting it next to my plate.

“Are you trying to get lucky?” I tease him playfully.

“We both know I don’t need to give you wine for that,” he says biting his lower lip, and I fight the thought that comes to mind when he says that because tonight I want to talk, and I can’t do that being so easily distracted. With Collin it is so easy to become distracted, he offers a world of answers but there always seems to be a trade-off with him, each piece of information he gives me seems to come with a hidden condition. As time passes the difference between the three of them becomes more apparent. Initially he reminded me of Cal but now even that comparison has narrowed. We both sit down and he turns on some smooth jazz, which has grown on me since he’s started playing it. My eyes take him in, and it doesn’t matter how long I’ve been with this man, I can stare at him forever. I think of how many days I spent alone here before I found out the truth, how much I missed Cal, how I dreamed we’d be whenever he came back, how I still held on to hope despite how things looked, how clueless I was then about what my reality would truly be.

“You’re quiet?” he says, and my eyes lock on his. They’re not dull how they were earlier but now full of the usual contemplativeness. I take a spoonful of the stir-fry, and it could be more seasoned. Chris’s food is so much better than mine.

“I’ve been thinking,” I tell him hesitantly. He swallows a bite of his food, and his head slightly tilts to the side as his eyes gleam at me.

“Always a good sign,” he counters and I fold my hands together.

“What’s going on with your treatment?” I let it out quickly, and I expect him to become defensive, but he doesn’t. He takes a spoonful of his food and drinks a glass of his water before responding, allowing the nervousness in my stomach to double.

“I know your sessions are private but it’s just been on my mind a lot,” I admit.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask. I don’t know why you still think you can’t talk to me because I told you, we can talk about anything,” he replies easily looking me directly in the eye with a warm smile.

I clear my throat and try to calm my nerves. “I know I just…”

“I’m not like them, Lauren. I don’t know how else to show you that so you can trust me. The things I do are in the best interest of all of us, not just me. You can talk to me about anything,” he says directly. I look down guiltily.

“Come here.” His tone is warm but authoritative. I stand up and walk over to him. He takes my hand and pulls me down on his lap, and turns my face toward his so he’s looking me directly in the eye. I stare into them, wondering if I look hard enough will I see all the men behind them, if I can see Collin’s actual motives.

“Helen is trying to reach Cal.” He says this easily but my breath hitches. “She needs him to be stable before we can think about integration.” My heart speeds up at how casually he says this. He grins at me seeing how surprised I am.

“Was that hard?” He slips his hand underneath my T-shirt and rubs the small of my back, but it’s not the signature pattern that Cal used to trace.

“No. How will she make him stable?”

“Therapy, but he has to be open to it. He thinks he knows everything and that he can fix himself.” While he says this, his other hand trails up my thigh. I fight the stinging in my chest, thinking how distraught he last was.

“He’s going to be okay.” Collin promises and cups my chin.

“Can he hear me? Can he see me now?” I am almost afraid to hear the answer, but I want him to know I’m here and that I miss him. Though I am nervous for him to know what’s going on, he has to know if there is any chance for them to become one. I’m starting to get a headache.

“He’s in good hands. Helen’s the best in her field, and if he’s broken that makes me broken. Do I look like something’s wrong?” He has a playful glint in his eye. I stand from his lap and grab the wine bottle and pour myself a glass. I feel antsy and jittery.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not used to you talking so casually about them.” I think back to the night when Cal came back and took me to the Venetian, how he shared bits and pieces of history but it was like pulling teeth. Chris hated to hear Cal’s name, but Collin acts like he’s not bothered at all as if it’s routine. He knows so much more than both of them and it’s intimidating. He has answers, but I wonder why he’s so willing to share with me and not them if integration is really what he wants. I swallow several gulps and let out a deep sigh.

“One glass will be enough,” he says his tone low, and I roll my eyes.

“You’re not my father Collin.” I retort a little annoyed.

“Don’t do that talk to me,” he says his brows furrowed.

“Don’t do what?”

“Start a fight. You say you want the truth, that you want honesty and transparency but I don’t think that’s what you want at all,” he says smugly. I laugh at him. “You’ve gotten used to being kept in the dark.” He continues. And I scoff at him.

“You of all people should know I never chose to be in the dark. I’ve always only wanted the truth. I just want a glass of wine; I don’t want you to tell me what to do. You may be used to all of this, but I’m still adjusting okay!”

“Fine, drink the whole bottle then,” he says sharply standing from his seat, his jaw jutted forward. I’m a little shocked, and surprisingly at a loss for words. This is unlike Collin. He doesn’t really show his emotions so easily, and I can’t believe he’s this annoyed even when I do something I know bothers him. He usually will still appear indifferent, but right now his eyes are wide, his skin tinged red. He was perfectly calm before and though I wouldn’t say he’s full-on angry, his mood has swung from left to right.

“I know you and Cal had this sick pattern of fighting and screwing to avoid problems, but I’m not an angry teenager. When you want to actually talk to me, when you’re ready to be an adult, I’ll be upstairs.” He leaves the room, and my mouth hangs open.

Is that what I do? Am I still a coward after all of this, afraid to hear the truth? I’m afraid to even read too much into a message forum. I sigh and sit down at the table and stare at the glass of wine. I should talk to someone. It only makes sense that I end up screwed up in all of this. I pick up my glass and frown at it then shrug.

There’s no sense in wasting good wine. I pick up the bottle and try to finish it.

* * *

Collin

Something’s not right.

I overreacted.

I don’t overreact.

Of course she’s not used to honesty, she’s never had it. Cal likes his secrets, and Chris is too clueless to tell her anything. She’s so afraid of hearing the truth; she may not even trust what I say as the truth. She’s been in the dark so long; her eyes have to adjust to the light. I should have been calmer, but I wasn’t. I’m off-balanced. It’s more difficult than I thought trying to block him out.

Cal and I always had a deal. I help him, I let him know when Christopher will come out, and I’m on his team. I’m never biased or choose sides, but Chris of course couldn’t handle knowing about us. He can’t handle life when it gets difficult, so Calvin and I worked together. We have never considered each other friends, but amicable. In the past, our agendas have aligned more than Christopher’s and mine.

Now they don’t.

Calvin’s problem is that he never thinks strategically only emotionally. He and Christopher do have that in common, though they handle it in vastly different ways. This is the first time mine and Calvin’s motives aren’t in alignment, and now that they aren’t, he could be a problem.

He will have to be contained.

She’s in the doorway, her eyes downcast, her arms folded across her chest. “I want to talk to someone,” her voice is quiet and conciliatory.

“Haven’t you been seeing Helen?” I ask her curiously though I already know the answer. I make it a point to make sure to know how often they speak.

“Yes, but I think it’d probably be better for me to talk to someone else, someone not so connected to everything.” She walks toward me and sits on the opposite side of the bed.

“Is everything ok?” I ask her trying to hide my concern. It’s easy for Calvin and Chris to get so wrapped up in their own issues that they don’t realize how much pressure Lauren can be under. She’s only human, and the last thing I need is for her to have a psychotic breakdown. It concerns me that she wants to talk to someone else. I know she had her issues with trusting the Crestfields but I thought we had gotten over that.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Actually no,” she follows up with quickly. I turn towards her.

“I’m sorry about how I acted earlier.” Her hazel eyes are striking as the day I first saw them. When she hones them in on you, when she doesn’t try to hide how she’s feeling, they tell her whole story.

“I’m sorry too,” I tell her, and she smiles softly. “I know I’m not your father.”

“No, you were right. Partially at least,” she adds with a grin. “I’m an adult and can do what I want, but maybe I have developed certain patterns that aren’t entirely healthy. I don’t know how to handle… all of this sometimes. It can be a little overwhelming and I want to talk to someone who isn’t so involved, who doesn’t have a bias,” she says hesitantly.

“Helen, you want to talk to someone who isn’t Helen?” I know I’ve grown on Lauren. I know that she loves me, regardless of what Calvin says. Lauren loves all of us. We’re one but she can’t help being skeptical of me, and I can’t blame her for that.

“If you want to see someone else you should,” I tell her. She looks at me and her eyes light up, but then she rubs the back of her neck. I stretch across the bed and pull her toward me.

“I never told anyone. I never had a chance before everything got so hectic,” she says with a small sigh. I swallow hard and feel my heartbeat becoming erratic. I try to steady it, and take slow deep breaths that won’t alarm her.

“Dexter Sr. threatened me.” She looks me in the eyes, and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears now loud and echoing.

“It wasn’t a threat to kill me or anything but when he found out Chris was trying to see another doctor, he basically said that he’d ruin us financially. Not only us but also Raven… Hillary,” she says quietly and I have to let out a laugh. This isn’t a big deal; Dexter Sr. is full of shit, and a control freak. He is not anyone to be afraid of, and I know more than my fair share of dirt so she doesn’t have to be afraid. I feel prickles of anger rising up and a thirst to lash out is coursing through me and I know it’s Cal.

“You don’t have to be afraid of him,” I turn her face so I can see her. “He’s threatened when he isn’t in control of things. Control is his drug. Don’t worry about any of the Crestfields.”

“Not even you,” she says lightly. There is a twinkle in her eye and it causes me to grin. She really does see me as one of the… “You’re a knock off Dexter.” I swallow hard when Cal’s words echo through my mind.

“I’m only kidding.” She squeezes my hand reassuringly as she must have seen my reaction to Cal’s words.

“You can see whoever you want Lauren. He won’t interfere, and I’ll make sure of that.”

She looks relieved and rests her head on my shoulder. I inhale her scent, and let out a deep breath.

“Christopher is going to come back,” I tell her quickly and her body stiffens. She looks at me her face littered with shock.

“What do you mean?” she asks nervously.

“He’s ready now, and he has to get treatment from Helen.” I try not to reveal a hint of emotion because I shouldn’t feel any. I don’t do emotions, but I can’t say that seeing her eyes light up at his name doesn’t make my stomach turn. It’s a new feeling. Being indifferent is so much easier, but what’s more important is that I have to contain Calvin and it’s easier to do with Christopher being at the forefront. She looks at me as if she’s studying me.

“You… you know when he’s coming out?” she asks, her brows knitting together.

I nod. “I know everything, Lauren.” This is what I love about her. She asks questions but never the right ones. She squints at me, and I can tell she’s having a silent battle with herself, unsure of what to say or how to feel. She lets out a deep breath and presses her hands to her cheek.

“How long is he going to stay?” Her voice is shaky and low.

“As long as it takes,” I tell her. She turns her body fully toward me, her eyes seem sad and I grip her chin.

“Don’t you miss him?” My voice is tighter than I imagined it being. Her eyes drop to her chest.

“This is so…” She says throwing her head back. Her neck is long and perfect, and I fight the urge to kiss it, to leave my mark on her.

“I’m sorry. You being honest is exactly what I’ve wanted for so long. It’s just I’m still… I’m trying to get used to it,” she whispers.

“Sometimes what you think you want the most isn’t all you dreamed it would be,” I tell her and our eyes meet. She clears her throat and her gaze lands back on her lap.

“Does Chris know that he’s coming back?”

“No.”

“And he won’t remember anything?”

“No,” I tell her again. She bites her lip and shakes her head.

“So I’ll be left to try to put him back together again.” She laughs mirthlessly.

“He won’t want to see Helen. He was so angry the last time he was here.” I take her hand and pull her toward me and lift her onto my lap. She rests her head on my shoulder.

“And he’s going to be upset about…” She trails off as my fingers run up and down her back.

“Us.” Our eyes lock on each other’s.

“You don’t have to tell him.” She leans back, so we’re eye to eye.

“You mean lie to him?” Her brows furrow together, her eyes like glass, lips stained with the red wine she drank earlier.

“It’s not lying,” I tell her as my lips find her neck.

“Omitting the truth might as well be,” she whimpers opening up her neck more to me.

“Gwen will be here in two days. Helen has an appointment set up every day this week for us. I’ve handled things at work. Christopher will be fine.” I promise her while my hands slip underneath her T-shirt.

“You talked to Gwen?” she asks surprised, and I grin at her.

“She’s my mom, isn’t she?” I tease her and a glimpse of a smile appears on her face.

“So I don’t tell him about you, about how…” She trails off again as my fingers slip inside of her bra.

“Close we are.” I tease her before taking her lips in mine. I taste the wine on her tongue; she whimpers, her body still tense, fighting what she wants so bad to give into.

“It would be better for him if I don’t say anything?” she asks as I lie her on the bed.

“Christopher doesn’t do well under pressure. Telling him what he wants to hear until he’s ready would work out better for everyone.” I wait for her to melt into me as she usually does but she’s stiff and tense. I thought she’d be happy hearing about Christopher. Relieved even. She pulls away from me and gets off the bed.

“Everyone’s lied to him. I don’t want to be added to the list.” Her voice is weak but her face is like stone. Her eyes are filled with confusion, guilt, and a little fear. Her wanting to be loyal to each of us is endearing but impossible.

“You can’t be transparent with me, tell me that I can trust you and keep Chris in the dark,” she says bewildered. This is the choice she’ll have to make, one of the most important. Who she thinks she loves most or whom she wants to be more present with when we integrate isn’t important. She doesn’t have a choice in that, but who she will give her trust to, who she’ll listen to, that is where her power lies. And if she’s smart, she’ll choose me.

“Lauren, whatever I ask of you is only for what’s best for us. If you want things to be easier you’ll listen to me, but you get to make your own decisions. I’ll support you either way,” I tell her, and her face softens. I don’t know how much she’s drank tonight but I can tell it’s affecting her judgment. She’s second-guessing herself, which is fine as long as she doesn’t second-guess me.

“Can you trust me, Lauren?” I ask her and she’s quiet but sits on the bed and rests her head in her hands. Her long dark hair cascades down her back.

“If I’m asking you to, it means I need your help,” I tell her again, my tone softer, and she looks back toward me, searching my face for an answer, or maybe even a lie. She closes her eyes and lets out a deep breath.

“I promised you I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that would hurt us, any of us.” I can tell she’s faltering. I move over to where she is and wrap my arms around her.

“When Calvin first made his presence known, when he took over from Christopher, he was a wreck, entirely reckless, making bad decision after bad decision.”

Whenever I say his name her breath catches, and I wonder if his very name has a grip on her heart. I push that thought out of my head.

“I called Dexter Jr. and I told him that Calvin was headed down a path of destruction and if the Crestfields didn’t help, I’d make things very complicated for them.” She looks back at me shock all over her face.

“You reached out to them?” I nod and move closer to her.

“I look out for the best interests of us all, Lauren. I always have and I always will, but now I need your help.” I lock my eyes on hers and they widen, and the turmoil I saw in them initially has disappeared.

“Please help me.” I wrap my arms around her waist, and hold her close.

“Okay,” she relents.

And I fight the smile that wants to spread across my face.