I hang up. Well, that couldn’t be less helpful. Maybe it was just a wrong number.
I head back upstairs to my room. He’s awake and sitting at the foot of the bed when I walk in. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for what’s to come next. Biting the bullet, I hold the phone out to him.
His expression is blank. “So you’re going through my phone now?”
“I wanted Helen’s number,” I reply, trying to remain calm. I wait for him to take the phone back, and when he doesn’t, I sit beside him.
“And why would you be calling Helen?” he asks sharply.
“Well, I thought she could tell me what happened yesterday, seeing as you don’t feel the need to,” I snap back.
His jaw clenches. “If I don’t want to tell you, you should respect my decision,” he says, rubbing his temples.
“And if I tell you that I need to know, you should respect that request and tell me,” I retort.
He runs his hands through his hair, takes the phone, and turns his attention from me to it.
“I want to know what made you so upset yesterday and where you went,” I say, trying to keep the edge from my voice.
“Helen couldn’t fill you in on that, huh?” he says sarcastically.
“Now!”
“Here we fucking go,” he says irately, slamming his phone on the bed.
“Is it just me, or does it seem that every time we take one step forward, you run two steps back?” I can feel my frustration level rising as I speak.
He stands and turns, towering over me. “Because every time we’re okay, you find something, anything, to start arguing with me about!”
“Cal, you left here visibly upset yesterday. You didn’t tell me what was wrong. I tried to be there for you, and you kicked me out of the fucking car! Why would you think everything is okay after that?” I ask. He’s far from stupid, but this is the dumbest shit I have ever heard come out of his mouth.
“Well, you seemed fine last night!” he says sarcastically.
“I wasn’t fine! I knew that whatever you were going through, you were still dealing with it. I knew that you needed my comfort and that what I needed could wait. I compromised—that’s what a marriage is about. Now it’s your turn!” I shoot back.
He ignores me, grabbing his shirt from the bed and putting it on.
“I know that whatever it was, it wasn’t about work. I want to know what it is,” I say, walking behind him.
He’s ignoring me, pulling his shoes out from under the bed and putting them on. I see where this is going, so I quickly grab his keys from the dresser. He laughs in frustration.
“How do you think that makes me feel, as your wife? That you cut me off completely whenever you feel like it? That whatever happened, you won’t even tell me. What am I supposed to think?”
“You’re never satisfied. Every single day, it’s something. When I’m not here, I’m a jerk who doesn’t spend time with you, but when I am here, it’s not for long enough, and when I’m here long enough, I’m not telling you every fucking detail on my mind?” he snarls as he finishes tying his shoes.
“That’s not what this is, and you know it! What is going on?” I shout, feeling my throat burn. “I should have done this a long time ago. I trust you with my life, Cal, and I’ve gotten nothing in return. I’ve tried waiting and waiting, trying to earn your trust. I fight with you to try to break down this emotional wall between us and nothing has worked, so tonight is the last night I’m going to wonder where you are, who you’re with, or whatever it is—”
“You want it all out? Okay, let me tell you, Lauren,” he yells sharply, interrupting me. “When I first met you, this was how I was. This is how I am, and I’m going to be like this tomorrow. You knew this when you met me! You accepted it then. I never promised you anything different. You’re the one turning shit around. I’ve never lied to you! I tell you what you need to know. I’m not cheating on you. There is no other woman, and that’s all you need to know!”
“You think I’m going to accept that?”
“Why not? Why do you focus on shit that isn’t important? What’s important is that I am here! At the end of the day, all other bullshit aside, I’m here with you!” he yells.
“Because I’m your wife, Cal! I’m not a fucking pet,” I shout back at him in disbelief.
His hard frown softens, and he runs his hand through his hair. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. I guess he really doesn’t have to; what else can he say? He’s told me exactly how he feels, and I can’t deal with the fact that the man I’ve been so in love with, that I’ve compromised myself for, doesn’t love me enough to trust me.
“Get out, Cal,” I whisper.
“What?” he asks as if he didn’t hear me.
“Get the hell out,” I growl.
“You’re kidding.” He lets out a light laugh. That sends me over the edge.
“Get out now! I can’t even look at you anymore!” I yell so loud that I surprise myself.
“Lauren, what the fuck is your problem?” he shouts back.
“Cal, I swear to God, if you don’t leave right now—”
He looks at me as if I’m speaking a different language, and I hear a knock at the door.
“Is everything okay in there?” Raven asks urgently on the other side of the door.
“Is it, Lauren?” His tone sounds dangerously like an ultimatum, but today is the wrong day for him to go there with me.
“It will be when you leave,” I say, looking him straight in the eye.
“Lauren, Cal, open the door, please!” Her knocks turn into pounds.
I step back as Cal walks toward me, stopping only inches away.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you need to fix it, because next time you tell me to leave, I’m not coming back,” he whispers coldly in my ear.
“If it’s that simple for you, maybe you shouldn’t.” I hold the keys out and drop them.
He’s quick though, neatly snagging them before they hit the ground. He licks his lips and smiles then grabs his jacket and opens the door. Raven walks in, glancing between both of us. Cal stares at me with a smirk. I can’t look at either one of them. I wrap my arms around myself and stare out the window.
“See you, Raven,” he says quietly.
“Good-bye, Cal,” she says, and she walks toward me slowly. “Lauren?”
“Raven, I don’t want to talk right now,” I say in the most polite tone I can muster.
“Lauren, you can—” she tries before I cut her off.
“Not now,” I plead with her, heading to the bed.
“O-okay, sweetie. When you’re ready to talk, you know where I am.”
I nod, watching through the window as the Porsche pulls away.
Chapter 9
October 2nd, 2008
I play with my fingertips as I feel the elevator take off. It’s a nervous habit, and I haven’t been this nervous since I was in high school.
“Don’t be nervous,” Cal says, wrapping his arms around me.