“Life doesn’t have to be like that. Marriage doesn’t have to be routine, and your kids don’t have to be screaming monsters.” I chuckle.
“Why work all your life with nothing to show for it, only wishing for things that you could never afford? Dreaming about places you’ll never get to go? I wouldn’t trade this for normality. It’s overrated,” he mumbles, getting up from the hammock.
“You make it sound like all you care about is money.”
“It’s not. It’s about living life to the fullest. Doing what you want instead of just fantasizing about it. You need money to do that,” he says as if it’s simple.
“There’s more to life than traveling the world and living in the moment, Cal. Those things are great, but what makes vacations enjoyable is that you’re getting away. If you’re doing it all the time, what’s the point? What about having a family, settling down?” I ask him.
“You hear what you said? Settle? I never plan to settle for anything,” he states.
His words sting me. Getting married and having a family is settling? Is this, now, all there is to him? Doing what he wants and not considering anything else? And where do I fit into this equation? I’ve been with him a year and I don’t really know. My feelings for him are getting stronger every day I spend with him, and all of these feelings are entangled with lust.
It scares me that I’m too afraid to ask these questions because, well, I’m not sure that I even want to know the answers. Cal is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I’m important in his life today, but what happens when I’m not? I’ve seen how quickly he gets bored with things.
It was inevitable that I’d develop feelings for him after all the time we’ve spent together. He makes me feel like no one else has. A year has passed like moments, and when I’m with him, time isn’t really a factor. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the cold now that I’m out of Cal’s arms. I let out a much needed sigh. My phone rings, and I ignore it.
“So is that what I am to you? A little bit of fun, something you just want to do for a while?” I ask.
He walks over to me and lifts me into his arms. “The reason you scare me is because you’re not,” he whispers in my ear.
I look into his eyes, feeling helpless. This man could easily break my heart. He stole it with a smile, and I don’t think I want it back.
“Do you want me to be?” I ask him, taking a cleansing breath.
He lifts my chin so I can see him. “Never.” He gives me a boyish grin.
He still gives me butterflies, and his touch has given me tingles since the time we first met.
“I’m still not entirely comfortable around you,” I say honestly.
“That’s a good thing; when you’re comfortable, that’s when you get bored.”
“Tell me what doesn’t bore you?” I ask him sarcastically.
“I can think of a few things,” he says with a mischievous grin.
My phone rings again. It’s the ring tone I assigned to Angela. She wouldn’t call me twice in a row unless it was something important, so I slink out of his arms to pick up my phone and answer it.
“Hey, Angela. What’s up?” I giggle, ignoring Cal’s hands roaming down my body.
“Lauren… Hillary’s here. I… I don’t know what to do… she doesn’t want me to call the police.” Her voice is shaky and high-pitched.
“The police? Hold on, Angie, what happened?”
Cal stops bothering me and looks on, concerned.
“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. She’s really bad, Lauren. I don’t know what to do,” she explains.
“He hit her?” I ask in disbelief.
“It’s really bad this time.” Her voice wavers as if she’s about to cry.
Oh God, I can’t believe this! “This time?” I ask frantically.
“She didn’t want me to tell you. She knew you’d want to go to the police. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it’d go this far.”
I feel myself shaking. “I’m on my way,” I tell her quickly before hanging up. I can feel tears welling in my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Cal looks concerned.
“Hillary’s boyfriend beat her up,” I tell him quickly.
“Lauren, calm down. I’m coming with you,” he says adamantly.
“No, I need to do this alone.”
Dammit! If I hadn’t been living in fantasyland with him, I would have known how bad things were. I could have helped her. I haven’t been doing much of anything except Cal. I knew this guy was bad news and I ignored it because Hillary gushed about him so much. But if I had been home, I could have seen it; I would have known.
Cal holds my shoulders to steady me. “Lauren, this is not your fault,” he says, reading my mind. “I’m coming with you. You’re too upset to drive.”
I button my top up, shaking my head in defiance. This is a personal time for her; I’m sure Hillary doesn’t want me bringing him along.
“Let me help you,” he pleads, grasping my wrist as I try to walk away.
I can’t push him away if I want him to let me in. “Okay.”
“Angela?” I call. After I spot her sitting alone in the waiting area, I rush to her side.
When she called me saying they were going to the ER, my heart almost stopped at the idea that Hillary was hurt that badly.
“Hey, Lauren,” she says, hugging me tightly. Angela’s eyes are red and puffy; her hair is wrapped under a silk scarf. “Hi, Cal.”
“Hey,” he replies, taking a place beside me.
“Where is she?” I ask urgently.
“They have her in the back. She just got back from radiology. The last nurse I talked to says she has a broken rib,” she explains, her voice wavering.
“Oh my God,” I say, feeling my eyes water.
“It’s really bad; this is the worst he’s done. Her face is…” She breaks down, and I hold her, crying with her. “I called her parents. They’re on their way. It’s my fault. I should have done something. She kept telling me not to tell anyone and it was only when he was drunk.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I try to convince her. She only did what Hillary asked her to, but I wish she had at least told me. However, Angela’s word is her bond; she’s one of the most trustworthy people I know. “How could I not know this was going on?”
“I’ll go get you both something to drink,” Cal says, giving us needed privacy.
“When she called me, she sounded so normal. But when I got to your place and saw her, I… I panicked. I’ve never seen anyone look like that in real life, face to face. When you see what this jerk did to her—” She growls angrily.
“Did you call the police?”
“No. She told me not to, but the doctors have tried to ask me questions.”
I look at her as if she just lost her mind. I haven’t seen Hillary yet, but based on what she just described, I can’t believe they didn’t call them.
“I know, I know! But she begged me. When the doctors asked me what happened, she didn’t even want me to tell them,” she explains quickly.