Lauren

I sit in front of the large canvas in front of me and stare at it. I keep it here in my office of the gallery, hidden away.

It’s him.

Or them. Three faces of the man I love.

Well, in the middle there’s a large blank space. I don’t know who he’ll end up being tomorrow. Now the picture is a little outdated since Chris shaved off most of his hair this morning. Not that I can say that I blame him. When Collin started growing it out, I knew it was something that both Chris and Cal would hate. I just didn’t think he’d cut it all the way off the second he came back. From what I think I understand is that Chris doesn’t remember anything while he’s away. Only getting glimpses of what happens randomly.

I can’t imagine what that must be like. To share a body, a mind with other people and be the last to know everything and the first to deal with the results of their actions. He probably feels so powerless in it all—it’s the reason I couldn’t lie to him. Not after everything that’s happened— all the lies told to me, the truths people thought I should be shielded from. Collin asked me to trust him, to believe that he has their best interest at heart, and I do believe that he has their best interest at heart. I think. I hope anyway. It’s what he says and he’s never lied to me—not that I know of.

Yesterday when Collin told me that Chris was coming back, it was such a surreal moment. How could he know that? How can he be so aware? Is it normal for one of them to know things like that, and why does Cal and Collin know but not Chris? It doesn’t seem fair— though what’s fair in their case? Collin didn’t have to tell me that Chris was coming back, but he did and I appreciate that. It was terrifying as well because it was so normal and casual of him. Collin doesn’t seem to process emotions how most people do, and it’s refreshing but scary at the same time. Truthfully it has only caused me to have more questions. Then it becomes do I want to know all the answers if he had them to give? Who do I want them from? I take a sip of water and pick up my pencil and perfect the dimple in Chris’s cheek. I darken the color in Cal’s eyes, and create the arched brow that Collin typically has. I stare again at the space in the middle. Who would that man be? What would be lost in this process? Will there be one standing or segments of the three? My phone rings and I see that it’s him.

Chris.

“Hey,” he says and I can’t help but smile at the voice I haven’t heard in so long. Chris's voice is distinctive, even when he’s annoyed or frustrated it still holds a warmness, a youthfulness that is different from Cal and Collin’s.

“I’m outside of your gallery.” I push myself off the floor and head to the window and see him standing there.

“I’ll be right down to let you in.” I grab the cover and toss it over the canvas, and head downstairs and let him in. When I open the door, he’s standing there with an easy smile, and his bright green eyes make me do the same. I stand aside for him to come in. When I lock the door, I can see him taking everything in.

“Wow.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I say quietly as I stand beside him.

“He picked this out?”

“Yeah,” I say sounding awkward to myself. I hate this part. I hate that we’re back to square one it seems, a tension between us that we fought so hard to get past. I missed Chris, and it’s so crazy how I didn’t even know Collin but his presence being gone has been felt. I even miss Cal while Chris is standing here, I can’t help but think of Collin the man who made my dream come to fruition and it’s the hardest thing to explain.

“So, is Chicago where you plan on staying?” He turns to me and my heart clenches.

“Well… I just… I thought you’d be happy here too,” I am confused. I thought that he’d prefer to be here instead of Michigan after everything that has happened.

“I’m just worried about my mom being there…” he trails off and I nod in understanding.

“Have you talked to her yet?”

I wonder what it was like for Mrs. Scott to be told by Collin that Chris was coming back. Was it as surreal to her as it was to me?

“No, I’ve been with Helen all day.”

I look at him unable to hide the surprise on my face. His appointment with Helen was at one, and it’s a little before eight now. “You want to see upstairs?” I ask him and he smiles, but it’s a ghost of the ones he used to have. I lead him to the back of the gallery and take the stairs to my office.

“Wow, this is really big.” He takes a seat on the dark grey sofa I purchased last week.

“Well, I set it up like this for when I have Caylen here or if I’m working late.” I try to make myself loosen up. I head to the mini fridge and grab a bottle of water. I have everything here I could need. There are two sofas, my desk, computer, television, Caylen’s toys, and my art supplies. His eyes dart around the room before landing on me.

“I can’t believe you did all of this while I was gone.” I look away from him not knowing what to say. How would I feel if I was gone and he moved on in life with someone else… actually that did happen. I push away the thoughts of Jenna.

“I’m glad.”

My eyes widen in surprise. I didn’t expect that response.

“Your life shouldn’t be at a standstill because of… us,” he says the last part begrudgingly.

“I’m tired of losing time like this, two months with you and Caylen and my family just gone…” his beautiful face is full of confusion. I walk toward him and take his hands.

“We’re going to get through this. Everything’s going to work out in the end,” I give him my most convincing smile. He looks at me with a sheepish grin on his face. Now that’s the one I remember, that’s what I miss.

“Helen said that she could help me try to remember—to not have so many lapses,” he says hesitantly. I sit beside him.

“That’d be great, Chris.”

“I just… I hate to put all of my faith in her—in any Crestfield,” he says his face darkening. I nod in complete understanding.

“But after seeing her today, I felt like there was hope. Not hope in there being a magical fix one day, but hope in the present that I can have some sort of control.” He looks me directly in the eyes, a pained expression on his face. I wrap my arm around his and rest my head on his shoulder.

“Will you come with me to my next session?” I sit up and look at him, his eyes warm.

“Of course I would,” I am unable to hide my smile. He smiles so wide I see both his dimples.

“I just know that she can’t hide things from both of us,” he laughs and I smile. Completely flattered that he’d let me in on something so difficult and personal. Collin never invited me to come to his sessions.

“Do you have office supplies up here?” he asks me and I nod pointing to the storage locker at the other side of the office. He stands up and walks quickly to it. He opens it and scans it quickly and begins pulling out items. He carries them over to where I’m sitting and lays them all out in front of me. There’s a calendar, a yellow notepad, pens, and sticky notes. He sits down beside them and looks at me.

“Before I knew about my condition, I used to keep calendars of the days I remember and the days I didn’t.” He flips to the month that we’re in and marks it.

“I need your help,” he says quietly, his voice and expression vulnerable. I swallow hard and, I take the pen and flip three months back from today.

“I think we can start from here,” I tell him with a small smile. We go over the days starting from when we found out about Lisa and his dad. I believe that was the day Collin took over. We walk our way through the calendar to when Cal came back and the day after when he became conscious again. Then we walk through the days until this morning. I promise him that any day he’s not here I’ll journal so he won’t miss a thing when it comes to me or Caylen again. I promise until he’s better I’ll make sure he doesn’t miss anything. As I look at all the days he missed—the things he won’t get to experience—the gravity of the situation—his pain, his plight— hits me like a truck and I bite my lip and demand myself to not let any tears escape.

“If anything happens to me, you promise to never forget me?” His question causes my heart to break. He gives me a playful smile, but his eyes show his fear and uncertainty.

“Why would you say that, Chris?” I gently cup his face in my hands, and I see the love in his eyes for me. He still smiles for me, and it’s playful, but his eyes give him away. “Did Helen say something to you?” I ask him and he leans back on the couch.

“No, she didn’t but… With this Collin guy appearing and him knowing so much… it’s not like I’m in a fair fight. I’m being tag-teamed and my hands are tied behind my back,” he says lightly, but I can feel the weight of his words.

“I could never forget you. I’d never choose to, and that isn’t something for you to worry about.” His eyes smile at me, and I wrap my arm around him and take in his scent, and then I feel his arms wrap around me. I ignore how hard my heart is beating and the stinging sensation in my chest because I really have no clue if there is something to worry about. What I do know is that as far apart as I once thought Cal and Chris were, with Collin added into the mix, it no longer seems as if they’re broken but shattered into pieces. What scares me is if they’ll ever be able to be put together again.

* * *

Chris

“Christopher!” My mom squeals before she’s even fully in the house. She jumps in my arms squeezing me like she did when I was a little boy. I don’t know who’s holding who tighter—me or her.

“I’m so glad to see you, my boy,” she says after I put her down. Just her being here makes me feel better—like things aren’t impossible and that I can get through anything. If she could get through cancer, I can get through this. I remind myself that I have people on my side. Even if Cal and Collin have the memories and if Helen is telling the truth that I can start to be more conscious when they try to take over—if I can stop the times I switch out—maybe I won’t need integration. I don’t believe for a second it’s what either of them wants regardless of how impartial Collin pretends to be.

“I’m so glad to see you, mom.” I’m unable to contain the smile on my face. I shut the door behind her, and she beams at me like I’m her most prized accomplishment. She looks good— her eyes vibrant, and the warmth I’ve always known her to have is still there. I wasn’t sure if what my dad did with Lisa would put the light out.

“Wow, look at his place.”

“Not exactly my style,” I chuckle and she smiles knowingly.

“You cut your hair,” she laughs, and I rub it self-consciously.

“He was wearing a ponytail, Mom,” I mutter, and she takes off her coat.

“I like it, it looks good on you.” She puts her coat on the back of the chair.

“Do you want me to take you to your room?”

“Where is Caylen and Lauren?” she waves off my question.

“Lauren went to pick up Caylen from her friend Angela’s house. She kept her yesterday for us after Collin told Lauren that I was coming.” Her smile flattens when I say his name. “What did he say to you when he called?”

She lets out a small breath. “Collin, he’s very polite I’ll say that. Impeccable manners,” she laughs, and I can’t help but frown. “He asked me to come and assist you after your return, and I’m so glad he did. I’ve missed you so much, Chris.” She takes my hand in hers.

“I guess calling you was the one good thing he did,” I admit. Then I laugh. “Oh wait, he bought Lauren a gallery, he is amazing at his job and no one has anything bad to say about him,” I laugh bitterly. She frowns at me.

“Christopher, I won’t have anything bad to say about anyone who cooperates in keeping your life in order,” she says in a way that makes me feel like I’m five again. “How are you doing? With everything?”

“I’m dealing with it. To find out that I’m really a Crestfield and about my birth parents still doesn’t seem quite real yet,” I tell her and she grips my hand tightly. “But I’m more worried about you,” I tell her honestly. She smiles slightly.

“You cannot worry about me, son. I am a fighter, and I will always be fine you know that,” she reassures me.

I know she’s a fighter. I saw her kick cancer, but I can still see the sadness hiding behind her eyes. She’s my mom, and I want her to be okay.

“It still doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt.” She smiles tightly at me, stands and gently grips both of my shoulders.

“We all will experience hurt in this life, son. The trick is to not let it change who we are—immobilize us. You can’t let the hurt define who you are.” She squeezes my shoulder and then heads to the kitchen, her eyes scanning the contents.

“I can work with this.” She flashes me a wide smile and gathers several items from the fridge.

“So you’re okay?” I ask her feeling as if I’m hovering, but I have to know she’s okay.

“I’m better than I thought I would be,” she tells me as she lines the items out on the counter. Two months is how long I’ve been gone, and I’ve seen that a lot can change in days let alone two months.

“So you and Dad…” I trail off and she glances at me.

“He’s still at the house.” She busies herself with the food items, acquainting herself with the cabinets. I don’t know where anything is to direct her.

“And you’re okay with that?”

“It is your dad’s house.” She gives me a half-smile as she lays out a cutting board and begins to peel a potato.

“Mom, have you forgiven him for what he did? Are you guys still together?” I ask her urgently. She stops peeling the potato and turns her full attention toward me.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“If you wanted to leave him, you can Mom. You don’t have to stay with him because of me.” I mean this with everything in me. I’d hate for my mom to feel obligated to be with him after everything he did—after the lies he told, how much he hurt us.

“Of course not, Chris. You’re a grown man with his own family.” She teases me but I can’t smile back at her.

“You know what I mean Mom,” I tell her and rub the back of neck.

“Whatever ends up happening with your father and I, it’s important to me that you don’t hate him.” She touches my wrists, and I glance at her. “I know what he did was terrible, and selfish, and to some unforgivable…”

To some unforgivable? To anyone it should be unforgivable. He slept with my best friend and got her pregnant. How could anyone just let that go? I run my hand over my head and let out a deep breath. Yesterday I told myself I would have to eventually make things right with my dad but not because I want to forgive him, or because he deserves my forgiveness. The only reason is because I need him—I need as many people on my side as I can get, and I know he hates Cal and he’ll most likely hate Collin. The one thing I can depend on him for is being on my side, but just hearing her say these things makes me question if I can even speak to him without wanting to punch him in the face.

“He’s your father. I don’t want you to punish him for me,” she says adamantly. Her eyes are clouded with sadness that I didn’t see before, and that sadness doesn’t make me want to forgive him any time soon.

“He loves you so much, and there is no excusing what he did, but I know he didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I shake my head. “I don’t think I can forgive him. Every time I think of it, I can’t get him and Lisa out of my head.” She closes her eyes tightly as if I’ve just stabbed her in the chest and I immediately regret what I just said to her.

“I’m sorry, Mom.”

“I will always fault your father for trying to hide what happened and it affecting you the way that it did,” she says quietly.

“It’s not about me. He hurt you, he lied to you!”

“I know that, Chris!” Her voice is tense but doesn’t break. We both let out a cleansing breath.

“Forgiveness isn’t easy.” She lets out another breath. “It’s not a magic moment where all of your anger and pain go away. It’s something you have to work at every day.” I can see her chin quivering, and I feel like an asswipe for bringing this up to her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I feel a burning sensation in my throat.

“No, it’s okay. We can’t pretend this didn’t happen. We will work through it and try to get past it.” She says this with a smile even though she’s on the verge of tears. She hugs me gently, and I hug her back. A small part of me wishes that Lisa didn’t tell me what happened, but sometimes you think you want out of the dark and when you’re not, the light is bright and burns.

“Hello, Hello.” Lauren calls out as she returns home just as my mom and I are finishing up breakfast.

“Princess!!” My mom squeals as Lauren comes in carrying Caylen. She’s gotten bigger since the last time I’ve seen her. Her smile is big and bright and makes me smile. She has a cookie in her mouth with two teeth she didn’t have the last time I saw her. My mom starts to rush over to them but stops herself realizing I haven’t seen her in months. Lauren approaches me with a smile matching our daughter’s and hands her to me. She comes easily and slaps me with the cookie.

“Hey, Cay.” She offers me her slobbered cookie, and I kiss her on the cheek, spinning her around as she breaks into a fit of giggles.

“Did you miss me, Cay?” I ask her and when she nods, we all laugh. “I missed you so much.” I kiss her on the forehead.

“You guys look so cute. I’ve got to get a picture.” My mom grabs her camera. “Big smiles,” she tells us and it’d be harder for me not to smile. She takes more than a few.

“You get in there, Lauren.” She nudges Lauren toward us. Our eyes meet, and I can’t help but see the joy glittering in them. She leans her head on my shoulder, and we take another.

“Make sure you send me those, Mom.”

“Me too,” Lauren adds.

* * *

My mom happily kicks us out of the house after Lauren and Caylen eat breakfast. Lauren and I head to Helen’s office for my appointment. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk from Lauren’s building, and for April in Chicago, it’s in the upper 70’s, which she says is magical weather for the season. The sun is bright and there’s an excited energy in the air of good things to look forward to. The weather brightens my mood and is much needed after last night. It was hard seeing the gallery that Collin purchased for Lauren and though it made me smile for her happiness, it also made me want to vomit at the same time. It’s amazing— the space, the lighting, and not too far from her house. She’s already done the decorating and groundwork and will be opening soon. Her dreams are taking shape right before my eyes and I’ve never felt happier for a person in my life, but at the same time, I honestly resent it.

Even though she didn’t say it, I know how much she loves it and how much she appreciates Collin for giving it to her. He sure made Cal and I look like self-absorbed douchebags. While all we’ve done is drive her crazy, he gave her something she could call her own—a place she could escape to—and she’ll always attribute that to him. Her opening is in three weeks and I can’t help but think that it’ll be him she wishes was there with her.

“How did things go with your mom?” she asks breaking me out of my thoughts.

“I’m glad she’s here.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and adjust them again. Lauren looks over at me curiously. “These almost feel too small, which is weird because they’re my size.” I feel a little embarrassed, and she grins at me amused.

“They’re skinny fit, Chris. They’re supposed to be like that.”

“I should have had my mom bring my pants from home,” I mutter, and she chuckles.

“We can go shopping later, grab you some things that are more your style.” She smiles as pretty as the day I met her. I scratch the back of my head. I hate to seem like a pest or difficult, but the majority of the clothes in her closet aren’t anything I would wear. It was fairly easy to distinguish whose clothes were whose. I know that Cal’s into all things dark—most of his clothes various shades of grey and black—and everything else has a designer label attached. Collin’s clothes are out there—nothing a solid color, not a T-shirt in sight—and material that seems too expensive to wear.

“No, it seems like a waste of money. I can have my mom ship me some of my stuff here when she gets back.”

“When is the last time you’ve bought new clothes?”

“Maybe like…. two years ago… I think,” I tell her and she laughs.

“I think you can afford to splurge a little,” she teases me and she slides her hand into mine. It’s so subtle that it makes my heart jump. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to just simply hold her hand, but I instinctively keep it in mine. It feels good. Yesterday after our talk, we fell asleep at the gallery next to each other but there was space between us—or more like ghosts of multiple personalities past.

“You know we’ve never sat down and gone over your financials.”

“You mean like bank accounts?”

“Yes, your accounts, the stocks you own, it’s all yours.”

“I bet my name isn’t on anything.” I chuckle, and the smallest frown appears on her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep making things difficult.”

“No, it’s fine. I just never thought about that,” she says lightly. “I think it’s important for you to see what you have available to you. This is your life too, and it may put things into perspective as far as what you’d like to do. Maybe you could go back to school if you wanted, open your own business, start a non-for-profit.” She shrugs while smiling brightly at me.

“With everything that happened when Cal left, I never really took advantage of the position that he left me in. I wasted a lot of time, sulking… and yes it was probably needed but… I don’t want that for you.” She stops and I look into her eyes and see how genuine she is. I kiss her on the forehead and hold her tighter, and let out a sigh of relief when she hugs me back.

* * *

“Good afternoon, Mr. Scott. Dr. Lyce is on a phone call, but after that, she’ll be right with you,” Helen’s receptionist tells us. She’s warm and friendly as if she knows me, but she doesn’t know me. She knows them… or I guess she probably could have been told about me. It’s strange to have someone know about my condition that is a stranger.

“Can you let her know Lauren will be joining us for our session,” I add and her eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh, okay. I’ll be sure to let her know,” she promises me with a smile. I leave the desk and take my seat next to Lauren who is smiling widely at me.

“How much do you want to bet that Helen flips when she finds out I’m coming?” She grins.

“Well, she’s just going to have to deal with it,” I tell her with a shrug.

“Thanks for sharing this with me, Chris.”

“There’s no secrets between us. I don’t ever want there to be.” Lauren smiles even wider, and I think this might come close to topping Collin’s grand gesture of purchasing the gallery.

“Christopher, she’s ready for you,” the receptionist calls me. I stand and Lauren hesitates a minute.

“Come on,” I tell her and she grins again and follows behind me to Helen’s office. Helen sits behind her desk as we both walk in. If she’s surprised or annoyed, she doesn’t show it. Lauren closes the door behind us.

“I’m so glad to see you again Christopher. Good to see you too, Lauren,” she says as we both sit down.

“Always a pleasure, Helen.” Lauren’s tone is on the brink of sarcastic and that makes me smile.

Helen asks if we’d like something to drink and we both decline. “Well let’s get right to it then shall we?”

Lauren rubs her thighs and I get comfortable in my seat. This is the first time I’ve been both excited and nervous before a session. I used to just feel tons of dread when I used to see Helen back when I thought my disorder was strictly neurological.

“How are you feeling today?” I swallow hard and smile over at Lauren. I let out a small breath and prepare to be open-minded. I’ve gotten so used to having my guard up with Helen, but with Lauren here I’m reminded that I have backup and more importantly that I need to try to make this work for her and our daughter.

“Better than I thought I would. I was able to see my mom this morning.”

“That’s great. How was it seeing her again?”

“It’s always good to see my mom.”

“Mrs. Scott is great. She’s been so helpful with everything,” Lauren expands. Helen turns her attention to Lauren.

“When you say with everything, you mean Chris’s transitions?” Helen asks her pointedly. I look at Lauren who nods.

“Does it make you uncomfortable to say the word transition, Lauren?” Lauren pauses a minute and glances at me. I look back at Helen unsure if me looking at her makes her nervous.

“Not uncomfortable just…” she shifts in her seat. “I’m not used to saying it,” Lauren responds with a shrug.

“It’s perfectly okay to refer to what’s happening as it is. One thing I’d like both of you to work on is not being ashamed or embarrassed about what happens.” Helen looks at both of us.

“I’m not embarrassed of his condition,” Lauren says her voice slightly on edge.

“I didn’t say that you were,” Helen retorts quickly. I swallow hard, feeling my face redden.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were, Lauren. I’m embarrassed by it,” I admit.

“Admitting it is a really good step,” Helen says.

“Chris, I’m not embarrassed of your condition,” Lauren says adamantly.

“Christopher, why do you feel embarrassed,” Helen asks me. I’m quiet for a moment.

“It’s not normal.”

“In our last session we discussed that dissociating is something that everyone does just to varying degrees,” Helen reminds me and I nod.

She looks toward Lauren. “Daydreaming is an example of such.”

“I know, but they don’t have this disorder,” I tell her.

“So it’s not the fact that you dissociate. It’s more so the lack of control with you not recalling your actions while you dissociate,” she says and I nod. “And we’re going to be actively working on that.”

“What do you mean?” Lauren asks.

“There are many techniques Christopher can employ that can help him to have more control over dissociating and strategies we’re going to be using so that he can be co-conscious,” Helen tells her with a small grin.

“That’s amazing,” Lauren says enthusiastically.

“Also, you can be a partner to him in making sure when he does dissociate, he is reminded of the things he doesn’t recall he’s a part of. We discussed that at our last session,” Helen says, and I see Lauren’s smile falter the smallest amount.

“We talked about it yesterday, the calendar, and journaling,” I tell her and she nods.

“Are you comfortable with that? Sharing with Chris the things that happens while he’s away?”

I see Lauren start to squeeze her wrists—her giveaway that she’s nervous or uncomfortable.

“Anything I can do to help I will,” she replies, but her voice is shaky.

“Does that make you uncomfortable?” Helen asks. She definitely looks uncomfortable.

“Why would it be uncomfortable?” she says tightly, her eyes on Helen.

“It would only be uncomfortable if you continue to see Chris, Collin, and Cal as separate entities.”

“But that’s how they see each other,” Lauren responds quietly. Her cheeks have flushed pink.

“Our goal is for Chris to grow beyond that. It’s a crutch.” Helen says sternly. Lauren looks at me.

“I’ve explained to Chris that they are different sides to his personality. They are not individual people and in order to move forward in his treatment, he has to understand that.” Helen’s stare is now directed at me. Lauren and I glance at each other. We had this idea that we’d control these sessions and tag team Helen, but right now it’s feeling like we’re kids sitting in the principal’s office.

“It would make things easier for the both of you. Especially you Lauren,” she says her attention now back on Lauren, who’s sunken further into her seat. “Do you feel guilty being intimate with Christopher and Collin?” Helen asks and my mouth falls open. Lauren’s face is bright red now, and her eyes are shooting daggers at Helen. Now I’m looking at Lauren too. Does she feel guilty about being with me? I never thought that she would because I’m the real person. I can see her feeling guilty about Collin, which she should be if she has.

“You’ve slept with Collin?” The words come out of my mouth quickly. She glances at me, guilt written all over her face, and I try to hide my annoyance, my disappointment.

“You were gone two months, Chris…” she mutters and my jaw clenches.

“These are the issues that arise if you continue to distinguish yourself from them, Christopher.” Lauren turns toward me but I keep my gaze on Helen.

“Do you feel guilty about sleeping with me?” I ask her, and she turns toward me her eyes wide but full of confusion. She’s confused which gives me my answer. I laugh, unable to hide my bitterness and rest my head in my hands.

“Was it not your body, Chris?” Helen asks. I don’t answer her. I know what her point is, but it doesn’t help me feel any better. The fact that she feels guilty about sleeping with me is more of the issue than her sleeping with Collin.

“We’ve got some serious issues.”

“It’s not that I feel guilty,” Lauren says her voice full of guilt.

“After everything he’s done, you’re still loyal to him?” I ask her and she drops her head to her chest and I shake my head at the turn of events that just happened.

“I think you both are missing the point of me bringing this up,” Helen interrupts us.

“What was the point of this, Helen?” Lauren asks sharply.

“Unless you take a vow of celibacy, this is an issue that you both have to work out,” Helen tells her emphatically.

“Can I speak to you privately, Helen. Just for a moment,” Lauren asks quietly. “If you don’t mind, Chris.”

“Take all the time you need.” I need some fresh air. Before I leave the room, I look back at Lauren who is looking at me but with a look that she’s sorry. I don’t want her apology, and I don’t want her to feel guilty either. Cal or Collin don’t deserve anyone’s guilt.

* * *

Lauren

The moment Chris closes the door I feel my chest untighten. I get up from my seat and stand in front of her desk.

“Why would you ask me that in front of him!” I shout at Helen.

“Lauren, it is important that they are all on the same page about intimacy with you, otherwise there will continue to be a conflict which will never allow for integration.”

“Aren’t there levels or steps that you take? You can’t just throw the elephant out there when you have two people trying to figure this crappy puzzle out!” I spit out at her.

“When you came today I assumed that he knew your feelings about things. You don’t invite someone to your therapy session when you are walking on eggshells.”

I laugh feeling bitterness crawl up my chest. “That’s what this was about—you are punishing me for coming with him!”

She lets out a deep breath and an aura of calm surrounds her, while I feel like I’m running a marathon.

“I’m not here to punish anyone, Lauren. I am here to help you and your husband live the best life possible.”

“Well, what you just did isn’t going to help things at all.”

“Yes it will if you two address the situation directly instead of avoiding the issues that will hinder his progress,” she counters. I let out a deep breath and sit back in my seat. “I understand where your anger comes from. However, do you really think this issue will cause the end of you after everything that you two have faced?"

“Of course I don’t, but it does not make things easier,” I mutter.

“Cal and Collin share awareness,” she says and my eyes widen.

“So Cal knows everything that happened with Collin…” She nods before I finish my questions. I push my hands through my hair. Well, that’s going to go great with Cal when he decides to show up.

“I’m in love with this man. One person—I don’t care who he calls himself or how he decides to behave on what day. I shouldn’t feel guilty for sleeping with my husband… but I do. How do I stop feeling that way? I know that Chris and Cal are going to be angry, but do I deserve their anger when I am technically with my husband?"

“First things first—you can’t live a separate life with each of them,” she says and I’m baffled by what she means by that. “Regardless of who he transitions into, you need to make life consistent. You need to remain the same person with each.”

“I try to do that now,” I tell her and she gives me a disbelieving look.

“Do you?” When she asks this, it automatically makes me second-guess myself.

“You are not the same with Chris as you are with Collin and Cal. I’ve seen you with all three, and you adjust your behavior accordingly. You coddle Chris, you seem to be more reserved around Collin, and you explode with Cal,” she says and I’m speechless.

“They all love you, Lauren. You have so much more power than you think.” She looks me directly in the eye, and I have to chuckle at this.

“I don’t feel powerful.” I put my face in my hands.

“If you tell them what you just told me and stand firm on it, what choice will they have but accept it? You think they’ll leave you if you refuse?” Helen grins. No, but it’s a lot easier said than done.

“I did have a question for you, Lauren.” I look at her in surprise. She has a question for me? How nice.

“When Collin was here… or Chris for the matter—do either of them ever talk in their sleep?”

“Uhm… no not that I remember, but they usually get up before me.” I wonder what would make her ask a question like that.

“They’ve never woken you up having a nightmare?”

“Not that I recall. Why is it important?”

“I was just curious,” she says simply, and I roll my eyes as if anything about any of this is simple.

“I’m going to bring Chris back in here, and I’m going to ask him to express how he feels. I want you to stand firm on how you feel, regardless of what you think his reaction is going to be.” Her voice is warm and calm, but it doesn’t calm the tornado of emotions that are swirling inside of me. I can do this. I can tell Chris that I love him—all of him—and that I don’t see why I can’t sleep with every version of him. I have a feeling that this isn’t going to go well.

“Jennifer, please let Mr. Scott know he can come in now.”

“Right away,” the receptionist replies.

The muscles in my stomach tighten. Chris walks in and his expression is blank. His eyes look like deep pools of sadness, and I feel terrible that I have caused it. Helen doesn’t get it—she makes it seem so simple—that I can be this dictator and that their feelings don’t matter. I care about every part of this man. I don’t want any of them hurt, to be upset with me. I just want peace. I just want my husband to love me and for me to be able to love him back. He sits down stiffly, so different from when we first came in as a team, and I’m terrified we’ll leave as opponents. I can only blame myself. I should have talked to him about this myself, and regret that Helen brought it up at our first session together.

“Thank you for allowing Lauren to speak to me alone.” Helen smiles at him and her eyes study him. His body is rigid, and I wish I could read his mind. I wonder what he must think of me—probably that I’m a disloyal slut, a horny little housewife who gets off on sleeping with three different men when it’s not like that at all. No, I can’t believe that. Chris would never think anything like that. If anything I’ve really hurt him, and maybe even worse, have broken his heart.

He’s the same person. He’s the same person. I have to keep repeating this to myself as I let out a deep breath and beg my heartbeat to slow down and my voice to not shake when I speak. I shift toward him, but he doesn’t even look at me. My heart sinks and I wish that we had done this last night—when it was him and me in my office. With the romantic, soft lighting, and the ease with which he held me and I rested on him, it would have been such a different scenario. Instead, we’re on opposite sides of Helen’s couch with an audience.

“Chris,” I speak more softly than I intend to but am hoping I can penetrate the hard wall he’s put up between us. He throws me a sideways glance, his arms across his chest, his lips pressed together in a hard line. He is pissed, and I can’t help but feel more anxious and nervous than I have ever felt before.

“I love you,” I tell him honestly and with my whole heart, and his head makes the slightest turn toward me. “I have never stopped loving you,” I continue, my eyes glance toward Helen and I feel my nerves climb across my back. This is such a strange situation doing this in front of Helen who is observing everything.

“I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, but you have to understand that I want to love every part of you,” I plead with him, but I can see that I’ve lost him from the grunt he lets out. I rub my shoulders feeling a mountain of stress starting to make camp on them.

“Chris, can you look at me please?” I can hear the desperation in my voice. “I don’t want to cause any of you pain, I don’t want to hurt you—any part of you,” I plead with him. He finally turns and looks at me.

“Wouldn’t it be a disaster if I only loved one of you? What if it was just you? What if I just loved Cal? Or Collin?" I ask him, and I hear him let out a low breath.

“This would never work if I only loved one part of you. It would kill me to share you with someone else, and if I shut out any part of you, it could happen. I’m so afraid of that happening,” I plead with him. He looks me in the eyes, and I can see him relenting. It’s not much, but it’s something and I’ll take it.

“I can’t really give you permission… but I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need to be updated on what you do with them,” he says, and the fist around my heart unclenches. I look over at Helen silently letting out the breath that was balled up in my throat.

“You mean with you when you’re not conscious,” Helen interjects.

“I guess,” he says, and relief floods through me. He’s only one part of the three-sided puzzle, but such a big one. Collin seemed indifferent and Cal…. I doubt things will go this smooth with him but right now Chris is here, and he doesn’t hate me.

The rest of the session goes by without any more turmoil and doesn’t really involve me at all. Chris talks about feeling disconnected from Collin and Chris, and how he doesn’t feel as if he can relate to them at all. It doesn’t surprise me and shouldn’t come as a surprise to Helen either. She reiterates that they are all one and for him to remain open-minded toward both of them, and his homework is to write a letter to each of them. Chris looks at her as if she’s insane when she suggests this but I’m intrigued. I wish she’d ask him to let me read them, but she doesn’t mention that of course. She asks him what relaxes him and he tells her playing music and suggests that he does it for at least an hour a day regardless of what’s going on—that it’s important for him to make time to relax and de-stress to gather his thoughts.

“Listen for them,” she says and I can see he’s exasperated but trying to remain open-minded. I squeeze his hand, all that I can do to offer my support. “Will I see you two tomorrow?”

He confirms and opens the door for me to go out, and we head to the elevator both quiet and in our own thoughts.

“So, what did you think?”

“I’m glad you were there with me,” he tells me and I smile thankfully. Given how the session began, I assumed he’d regret having me come.

“I’m glad I was there too.”

“What did you think of her as a doctor?” he asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know. I think she’s knowledgeable—I’ll give her that. How did you feel?”

“I guess I’ll know more when I start to make progress,” he says as the door opens. He waits for me to go out first. As we walk outside of the building, I turn to him to look at him, and the sun is reflecting off his eyes. The sight of them still steals my breath away.

“I think that we should alternate sessions. I’ll go with you to every other one,” I tell him and he frowns at me.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I can still make sure everything’s on the up and up, but you can have your own space to vent about things that are private.” I know that Chris trusts me, and he needs to see that I trust him too.

* * *

The first thing I notice when I step inside the house are amazing smells that have never come out of my kitchen before. I have gotten a little better at cooking —I can make hamburgers, baked chicken, fish and follow most simple recipes without creating a disaster—but not many things smell as good as Mrs. Scott’s cooking. Caylen is sleeping on the couch, and I kiss her cheek before heading to the kitchen where Mrs. Scott is tasting from a large pot.

“Did I tell you how happy I am that you’re here,” I remind her and she smiles widely at me. “Here taste this,” she says, and my mouth waters as she puts string beans on a plate for me to taste. I grab a fork and pop them in my mouth.

“Oh my gosh,” I am salivating for more as I finish my little taste. “I’ve never had string beans that taste like this.”

She grins, “I used smoked turkey and my secret recipe that I’ll write down for you.”

“They don’t even taste like vegetables,” I say in shock. She places the top back on the pot. “I also made pot roast and potatoes.” I’ve never been more excited for food before I met this woman.

“Where’s Chris?” she asks joining me at the table.

“He’s actually meeting with Dexter. He’s finding out about his financials and plans to get more information on… his job,” I tell her. She looks at me wide-eyed.

“Wow, I didn’t think of all the little things he’d need to do to merge his lives together. How did his session go?” she asks curiously.

“It went well—a little shaky at first—but we’re really counting on Helen to be professional and honest with us.”

“I know you probably can’t go into much detail but… did he mention me and his father?” Her warm expression suddenly becomes a bit gloomy from the nervousness that she is likely feeling.

“We didn’t really focus on his family in this session. It was more of coping techniques and him finding commonalities with Collin and Cal. He said he’s glad you’re here,” I tell her taking her hand and squeezing it, and this time her smile is genuine though there’s still worry etched on her face. “Has he spoken to Aidan by any chance?”

“No not that I know of,” I tell her honestly.

“And… Lisa hasn’t reached out?” That question catches me completely off guard. It’s a name that sucks the life out of the room. Thinking of her is bittersweet. I had grown really close to her before everything happened. She always supported me when Chris was confused about me and was still with Jenna. I hate how things were before me, and she still crosses my mind every so often. But what she did with Mr. Scott was terrible, and no one hates it more than Mrs. Scott.

“No, I haven’t heard from her since… since before everything happened.”

“Well, a lot has happened since then,” she sighs. My pulse starts to climb, and I let out a deep breath and prepare myself for what she’s about to say. I pray that what she says next is something good despite my intuition screaming otherwise.

“Well, Lisa came to our house last month and she dropped off her daughter to us,” she says tightly. My eyes widen in shock.

“Dropped her off as in—she has been visiting you and Mr. Scott?” I ask confused.

“No as in she signed over custody to William and me,” she pushes out her words quickly and my mouth drops open in surprise.

“W-what?”

“She signed over custody, dropped her off with a suitcase and a duffle bag, and a letter saying that she was sorry. She asked me to love her daughter.” Mrs. Scott voice breaks, and I’m not sure what to do. Do I tell her I’m sorry or congratulate her because her eyes are smiling but she’s on the verge of crying?

“Wow. I don’t know what to say. How are you handling things?”

She smiles tightly. “You know after I found out about her, when Chris first told me, all I could imagine was the betrayal and how the child I imagined was a symbol of that.” She takes a deep breath then her eyes smile.

“But when I saw her, she was just a little girl. She wasn’t the monster I had made her to be in my mind. She was this beautiful little thing with William’s eyes, who was coloring and eating the cookies I baked that morning.”

Though she has a tight smile, her eyes glisten and tears fall down her cheek. I grab a paper towel and hand it to her. I try to keep my face blank, but I can’t help fighting my own tears. I cannot imagine the situation Mrs. Scott has found herself in, how she’s managed to pull something good from it, and my heart breaks for the little girl caught in the middle.

“The letter that Lisa wrote me made me see her as a broken girl who made bad decisions not as this conniving femme fatale.” I can feel the weight of her conflict—sadness vs. the fear of happiness—the same things I’ve battled.

“You’re going to stay with Mr. Scott?” I guess giving her a warm smile.

“I don’t know. I’m still dealing with things, but I don’t hate him more than I love him. After everything that has happened, I was sure it would be the opposite.”

“No one can judge you for the decision that you make, Mrs. Scott.” I assure her but she covers her face with her hands.

“I’m worried about how Chris will deal with this,” she whispers quietly as if he’ll walk in at any moment. My thoughts drift to the night when Chris and Mr. Scott had their big fight, how he said he’d never forgive him. We haven’t talked about what’s happened with his parents since he’s been back. I know secrets and omissions have never been a good thing for him but thinking of how he will react when Mrs. Scott tells him that not only is she leaning toward staying with Mr. Scott but that they’ve taken in his love child, a nervous feeling runs through me. I swallow hard and try to choose my words carefully. This situation is so sensitive and the wrong word could put an ugly scar on the entire situation.

“Did Mr. Scott talk to you about the last time he saw Chris?” I ask carefully and she nods ever so slightly.

“He told me that Chris hates him—and from the brief conversation I had with Chris this morning—I’m not sure if anything has changed. Though he hasn’t had much time to change his mind.” Technically Chris has only had a few days to process all of what’s happened.

“I think the best thing is to just take things slow,” I tell her, not thinking of anything else that we could do.

“I haven’t made my decision yet,” she adds, and I let out a sigh of relief.

“Right.” If she hasn’t made her decision yet about staying with Mr. Scott then this isn’t something that is urgent for us to tell Chris—at least not right at this moment.

I ignore the little voice that is telling me that I’m lying again as my worry grows of how this will all affect Caylen if this doesn’t come together soon.