“Jenna, what’s wrong?” I ask squatting down in front of her. She continues to cry and hands me her tablet. When I look at it my stomach drops. I see pictures of me but I quickly realize that it’s not me. It’s Cal and Lauren on their wedding day. There are loads of them.
“Where did you find these?” I ask her carefully.
“On the internet. Turns out their wedding was apparently a big event,” says wiping her eyes.
“Keep going there’s more,” she says, taking the tablet from me and going through dozens of photos of Cal and Lauren. They look normal. They look happy. Worst of all they look like they're in love. I take the tablet from her and she lets it go without a fight before covering her face with a pillow. I try to think of something to say to comfort her but I’ve never been good with words. I rub her back. I feel sick. I’m the reason she feels like this, that’s why she’s crying, why she’s hurt.
“I didn’t want it to be real,” she wails. “I didn’t want what they had to be real. It’s one thing for them to have a child. People have kids all the time and aren’t in love but this… This makes it real,” she sputters.
“Tell me,” she squeaks out sitting up.
“Tell you what? I’ll tell you anything, to make you stop feeling like this,” I say putting my arm around her.
“Tell me you don’t love her,” she says looking me directly in the eye and I think my heart almost stops.
“Those pictures aren’t of me, Jenna. I don’t remember any of that,” I say, taking her hands, trying to comfort her.
“That’s not what I asked you. I’m not talking about Cal. Tell me you don’t love her. You, Christopher. Tell me that you don’t have any feelings for this woman,” I look into her watery blue eyes and I want to tell her what she needs to hear. I want to say anything to make the pain she’s feeling go away. I want to tell her the feelings I have are Cal’s, not mine. But if I did, it would be a white lie. There are a lot of reasons I have feelings for the woman in those pictures and Cal isn’t one of them.
“I—I can’t.”
Chapter 53
Lauren
I want to be mad at Chris. I really do but it’s hard to stay mad at someone when you replay their words in your head and they make absolute sense. That and the fact that when you scowl at them their eyes smile back at you as if they were never mad at you in the first place. I know he was mad. That's the first time I had ever seen Chris angry at me.
He was right, of course. I probably shouldn’t have gone at Helen the way I did but that was Lauren breaking free of all the emotions that I kept neatly tied up in a pretty little package. I hadn’t been that person in so long, I wasn’t sure she still existed. I don’t think Chris liked what he saw. He looked at me with such disappointment. It’s the only way I could describe it. But the next day it was gone, as if it had never happened. Cal could hold a grudge as long as I could. And our fights didn’t end easily. Most of time they culminated in angry sex.
I think that’s out of the question for Chris and me.
I feel badly now. I really messed up a chance for Chris to talk to Helen and Dexter. I don’t want to hear from either of them. I don’t trust them and it’ll be a long time before I can forgive them. But I know Chris wants any and all information he can get. I can’t imagine only seeing pieces of the puzzle that is your life. That’s what caused me to suck it up and apologize to Helen.
She quickly accepted. I guess being a psychiatrist, she understands why I did it. On the other hand, Dexter looked like he wanted to have me thrown out on the sidewalk.
She’s agreed to meet with me, at my house. I don’t think I’ll be welcome in theirs for quite a while but I don’t plan on making any social calls anytime soon. I apologized but I’m not sorry in the least, not for what I did to her. I’m only sorry it interfered with what Chris wanted to accomplish. I’m heading back to Chicago so I can meet with her tomorrow afternoon. She says she thinks it will be good for us to talk. That she has a lot to tell me that I need to hear. I don’t want to hear anything from her. I’ll just sit there until she agrees to tell Chris everything he needs to know and gets Dexter to do the same.
Mrs. Scott is glad to have some extra time with Caylen since we’ll be heading back to Chicago soon. Chris and I haven’t had a chance to talk about my getting a house here. Everything was just moving too fast on my part and going back home made me realize how much I love the city and miss it. I adjust my bag on my shoulder as I walk to my car. I look up and see Chris parking his truck. I let out a deep breath as he approaches.
“Hey,” he greets me with a small smile.
“What’s the bag for?”
“I’m going back to Chicago. There are a few things I need to take care of and I didn’t think it’d be a bad idea to take some things back with me. I’ll be back tomorrow night,” I respond.
“By yourself? At almost seven in the evening?” He seems upset.
“I’ll get there before the clock strikes midnight in the Audi. I’ve made drives like this by myself to my aunt’s house a thousand times,” I assure him. There’s a steady wind blowing around us so when I smell expensive perfume, I know he’s been with Jenna and I suddenly feel like this conversation is a waste of my time.
“See you, Chris,” I say getting into my car leaving him standing outside. I put my key in the ignition and he knocks on the window.
“I’ll come with you,” he says. It’s funny that he doesn’t ask, he just sort of says it.
“Why?” I ask him curiously.
“Because you shouldn’t drive alone that far this late,” he says as if it’s obvious.
“I’m a big girl Chris,” I laugh. His eyes find mine and he smile at me.
“I know,” he says.
“Let me go tell my mom and say goodbye to Caylen. I’ll be right back.” And with that he heads into the house. I feel myself getting a little excited. Then I think of how he smelled like Jenna’s perfume and my excitement evaporates into thinly veiled disappointment.
“Where did this storm come from?” I ask. It’s raining so hard I can barely see where I’m going. We’ve only been on the road for about an hour and a half when the rain came, accompanied by loud thunder and lightning.
“We need to get off the road,” Chris says.
“We’re not going to make it to Chicago.” I pull out my phone and ask my search engine to find the nearest hotel. It lists several of them. The Detroit Marriott sounds like a winner. I change the route option to lead us there.
“The Marriott’s a little expensive for two rooms,” he says.
“Of course we need two rooms,” I mutter under my breath. I see him glance at me and sigh. The twenty minute drive takes us about forty minutes. When we finally pull up to the hotel, the valet parking attendants are fully equipped with big rain coats and huge umbrellas.
“Thank you so much,” I say loudly over the rain.
“No problem,” the valet says walking Chris and me over to the entrance of the hotel where we pay him and get a ticket. We’re virtually dry as we walk into the large upscale hotel. I haven’t been to one of these since Cal. We walk in and it looks relatively empty aside from a few businessmen scattered about the lobby. It’s beautiful, but unfortunately for Chris, it’s a high rise.