I shower with the hottest water I can stand, and then switch to cold to numb the pain I’m in. I go to my closet and throw out random pieces to make an outfit, then I double back picking out the best pieces I own that won’t look too odd to wear on a mommy and daughter date. I settle on a black sweater and dark denim jeans. I even do my makeup. I make an attempt to look fine, but the colors make me look as if I’m going to a funeral. Maybe I am because my heart feels as if it’s dying.
“So the video seems as if it’s going viral—all it’s done is increase the popularity of this place. There is no such thing as bad publicity, remember? I’ve been fielding calls all day. You’re going to be fine, Lauren. All but three of the paintings you showcased sold, and even Ian has agreed to show with you again… on the condition that your husband isn’t in the same room with him.”
All of the things that Hillary has caught me up on should make me smile, and feel a tiny bit happy, but it doesn’t. While I’m here I just keep replaying the last time I was in the gallery. My joy, hope, and optimism seem to have been sucked away like leftover food and debris. I only had a certain allotment of smiles for use today and Caylen took each one.
“Can you send him a really expensive bottle of champagne, and maybe some really good food?” I clear my throat and take a drink from the water bottle that’s sweating in front of me.
“Already done.” She takes my hand and clasps it with hers. “I’m so sorry again, Lauren.” Her big blue eyes plead with me for forgiveness.
“It wasn’t your fault… well a very tiny miniscule part was but I’m done blaming other people for what happens with us. I always do that and I’m tired of it. I won’t look to lay blame on anyone so that it doesn’t lay on him. I won’t do it anymore.” I tell her squeezing her hand back.
“Aidan says you haven’t visited him or called,” She says hesitantly. My eyes dart from hers. “Not that I blame you,” she adds quickly. My chin goes to my chest and I let out a deep sigh and a soft shrug.
“I don’t know what to say to him. Did he mention when he’ll be coming home?” I ask quietly, both anxious and afraid to hear the answer. She shakes her head and at that moment the buzzer rings for the gallery. We look at the camera and my stomach drops when I see him standing outside—the heart I swore had died has just reminded me it’s still alive and kicking. Hillary glances at me, and I take my lip in between my teeth and begin to chew.
“Should I…?” she asks.
I nod almost immediately, and then a small part of me wonders if I should… what if he’s still… no… I swallow hard. She hits the buzzer to open the door and we both head downstairs. By the time we make it down the stairs he’s inside, standing awkwardly by the door, his shoulders cast down, hands in his pockets. When his eyes reach mine I can read them from across this room, and my heart clenches in my chest. The tension in the air is so thick you can slice it, words unspoken float through the air. He doesn’t have to speak, I know it’s Chris. He’s the only one who wears guilt around his neck like a tie and an apology written across his eyes. I let out a sigh of relief as my eyes trail over his T-shirt and jeans. If he had on a suit I just may have passed out.
“Hi,” Hillary speaks before either of us does.
“Hey Hillary.” He gives her a broken smile. She looks between us and twirls a finger around a strand of her hair.
“Uhm… Aidan’s in the car.” Chris tells her pressing his lips together.
She glances towards my direction giving me a look to ask for permission to leave and I nod letting her know it’s okay.
“Cool… I’ll go say hi.”
I cross my arms across my chest, feeling if I don’t my heart will escape and jump in his arms, and right now, my heart can’t take the lead on this. My mind has to be on high alert.
“You didn’t come to the hospital,” he says quietly. I look down guiltily and shrug away the apology fighting to escape. “Not that I blame you,” he follows up quickly. He approaches me slowly but stops about an arm's length away.
“I can’t begin to apologize for what happened here…” his voice is wobbly and filled with emotion. I take in a deep breath through my nose, and rest my gaze on the floor, because if I look at him, I may do stupid things like tell him it’s okay when it’s not, or hug him when nothing has been solved.
“You didn’t deserve that… you don’t deserve any of this,” he continues quietly. “I saw the video and… if I could take anything back it would be that…” he says, his voice weak. I feel tears starting to settle in my eyes.
“Collin took…” He lets out a long breath through his nose. “I… I took pills—too many and the side effects—well you saw it,” he explains. I slowly bring my eyes to his face.
“I’ve been hoping that this would all work out, that I could solve it all on my own. But yesterday showed me that what I’m doing isn’t working, it’s not enough and when I saw what I did to you—” He clenches his jaw. “After the thing that happened with Cal and Clayton, I should have known then that this was something bigger than I could handle.” He clears his throat, and my heart starts to feel as if it’s going to break.
“But seeing me do that to those people… to you…” He shakes his head and I see his eyes tear up. I let the ice in my demeanor break a little and cross the imaginary line between us to take his hand.
“You weren’t yourself,” I tell him, and his brows furrow together. “We’ll get through this.” I take his other hand in mine, and his big hands wrap around mine.
“See that’s the thing. I can’t do this to you anymore.”
Every muscle in my body tightens, and he must sense it as he squeezes my hands tighter. This feels eerily similar to so many years ago, when I met Cal that faithful day in our home, when everything was supposed to be fine but it changed in an instant, but I push those thoughts away.
“You’ll see Helen more often… we’ll make sure that you won’t take any more pills, we’ll do counseling, as much as it takes, as long as it takes, you can go on a leave of absence at work. We can even go back to Michigan with your parents….” My words come out a mile a minute, and when he presses his lips together and takes my face in his hands, I lose my breath. I see his answer in his eyes long before the words reach his lips.
“No.” His word is short but the most painful thing I’ve ever heard—it’s like a knife in my heart. His eyes lock with mine, and his face blurs from the tears accumulating.
“No?” I ask him, my voice breaking, my body beginning to tremble. He shakes his head slightly. “What are you saying?” I ask him pulling away. “You’re not doing this to me again. You can’t, Chris. You won’t hurt me like that, I know you won’t.” I know it’s not playing fair right now, pitting him against Cal, but I can’t afford to play fair. I can’t lose him. I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to get him to change the direction this is going in. He tears his eyes away from me, and when he looks up, I see a single tear fall down his cheek.