“I can’t do that do her. I made a mistake when I married her. She doesn’t deserve the life she’d be stuck in with me.”
“Shouldn’t that be her choice?” Dexter asks, sipping from his glass of brandy. I'm contemplating asking him for one even though I never drink.
“I have to make the right one for her. She’ll get over me and meet a nice normal guy,” I say, more to myself than them.
“You’re really going to let her go? Just like that?” Dexter asks suspiciously.
“Trust me it’s not 'just like that',” I say defensively.
“I think you’re making a mistake. I think you should tell her and she will understand. She’ll stand by you,” Helen says pleading.
“I didn’t come here for you guys to convince me not to do this. If you don’t have the medicine to fix me, if you don’t have a solution to this problem, I don’t want to hear any alternatives or suggestions!” I tell them.
“Okay,” Dexter says simply, Helen nods. Dexter slides over the folder to me. I review the terms of what we discussed. The financial details at least. I want to make sure Lauren’s taken care of the rest of her life. She shouldn’t have to want for anything. I flip through to the final page in the folder—it’s divorce papers. I look away quickly and grab the pen on the table and sign it. When she’s ready to move on completely I don’t want anything to stop her. I don’t want her to be stuck, even though it feels like a knife cutting through me as I sign my name. Once I’m done I slide the papers across the table to him. He takes the folder and stands up.
“Well I think I’m done here," he says, heading towards the door of their office.
“Dex…” He stops mid step.
“Remember, she’s not to know under any circumstances about Chris. No matter what,” I tell him. He turns back towards me.
“None?” he asks. I can’t think of a reason that would be important for her to ever need to know.
“None. Promise me—on your name,” I tell him. If it’s one thing that’s important to them, it’s their name.
“Done,” he says quietly before leaving the room.
“I’m sorry about Gwen, Cal,” Helen says solemnly. “I’m sorry about everything,” she says, her voice cracking.
“Come on Helen. You have to keep up the façade that you don’t have a heart,” I wink at her and she smirks.
“Be careful, I’m going to start thinking you have one,” she says as we both stand.
“I have a heart. It’s just not all that big,” I tease her. She walks over and gives me a hug. For the first time ever I really hug her back.
“I know you want her to hate you when you tell her goodbye. Just try to remember, that could be the last time she sees you. Leave her with something to know how much you love her,” she says, looking me in the eye.
“Take care of my girl for me,” I tell her as she walks me to the door.
“Absolutely,” she promises as I enter their private elevator to take me to the exit. She waves and I give her a little salute.
When I walk into the house it’s dark except the light in the hall near our bedroom. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before I head up the stairs. This is the first time since I’ve known her that I don’t want to see her. That I wish I didn’t have to because I know what I’m going to tell her is going to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her, now it seems like all I’ve done is hurt her. I think back to that night when I first saw her, how I was trying to save her from that douchebag Michael. I wonder if she would have been better off with him. When I walk in the room she’s sprawled across the bed. Her long dark hair covering the sheets. She’s beautiful, and she seems at peace. Even with all the chaos I’ve brought her, she still sleeps peacefully.
I want to touch her, to kiss her, but I won’t do that. I don’t deserve that. I deserve to walk out of here and never hear her voice, or feel her touch again. I leave the room and walk around the house. The only place I’ve ever felt at home.
She made my house a home, she’s my home.
I sit down on the couch and think of all the things I’ve done to her. How good I’ve made her feel, how bad I've made her feel.
After they stopped the medication trial, things just started to crumble. Chris started to come back more frequently, and our transition began taking a lot less time. I had to be gone more often, I even had to stop working. I couldn’t tell her why, so I started to ‘omit’ the truth. I guess that’s what liars tell themselves to feel better, but in reality it’s all a big fabrication. She started to be suspicious but she’s way off base. She thinks I cheat on her. That I have all of these women. I tell her I’d never cheat on her, but she doesn’t believe me because there’s no other plausible explanation. The real explanation is the opposite of plausible. She started to resent me. I saw her change.
She built a persona around herself, one that she puts on to not give a damn, but I see it in her eyes how much it hurts her and I hate myself for it. She thinks I hate her and that makes everything worse. I try to show her I love her the only way I know how without lying. The only time I can see behind her walls she’s built up is when I’m inside her, literally. I’m turning her into someone I never wanted her to be. I liked that she spoke her mind, now she only tells half-truths. She’s angry, and I know it’s because she’s hurting. This is going to hurt her, but she’s strong. She’ll get over me, move on. She can have the life that she always wanted. Someone she can know, whose family she can meet, where her biggest decision is where to go on vacation.
I’ve been down here awhile. I head back upstairs. Before I go into our bedroom for probably the last time I ready myself for this. Ready to take the role of villain, to make her see me as someone I never wanted her to see me as. That’s one of the reasons I loved her so much because even in all our fights and arguments she never looked at me like that.
Today she has to.
“You’re finally up,” I say turning on the light.
“How long have you been here?” she asks, covering the yawn escaping from her mouth.
“About an hour,” I say, sitting in a chair across from the bed so we’re face to face. She glances at me, her eyebrow arched.
“So what did you want to talk to me about?” I pull my chair closer to her and sit back down. She looks at me curiously, I can’t look her in the eye.
“Cal,” she says softly, reminding me of the girl I fell in love with. Not the pissed off angry woman she’s been the past few months.
“What’s wrong?” she whispers, like she’s afraid to hear the answer. I wish more than anything I didn’t have to, but I can’t let her know that. Anger is what she’ll want to hold on to, it’s what she needs.
“I’ve never lied to you,” I say steadying my voice. “And I’m not going to start now,” I drop my head down, run my hands through my hair. How am I supposed to do this? My heart rate picks up.
“Just say it,” she commands.
I take her hand. I won’t have the strength to do it if I don’t remind myself how much I love her, more than myself.