The voice through the monitor sends chills through my body. I hear the crying stop.
“I have something for you,” it says again.
My heart is racing, but I can’t move. I manage to put the monitor closer to my ear.
“I’ve missed you. No one could keep me from seeing you today.”
My chest is so tight, I have to remind myself to breathe. A few seconds pass, and Raven’s voice reaches me faintly from the earpiece of the phone I just dropped. I’m snapped back to reality—this is not a dream.
“It’s Cal!” I say in utter disbelief, losing my grip on the phone as I try to pick it up again.
“I’ve missed your mom too. I just don’t want to complicate things, and I don’t want to hurt her anymore,” he says.
Tears start to pour down my cheeks.
He laughs lightly. “You’re lucky you get to see her all the time. This probably wasn’t the smartest thing. I wish I could tear myself in half; it’d make things easier for everyone.”
A few more seconds pass, and I hear Caylen make the sound she makes when she’s fascinated by something and studying it intently.
“I’m not going to be able to see you for a while, and I don’t have much time…” His tone changes from regretful to having a sense of urgency.
Suddenly, my body is fully capable of taking action. “Cal!” I try my best to open the door. I can’t get to him. “Cal, wait!”
I don’t know how much time passes as I keep trying to open the door, but finally, I hear footsteps approaching. When I stop yelling and pounding on the door, the silence is palpable. I step back from the door, my heart seeking freedom from my chest. The knob turns, and I stop breathing, but when the door opens, Raven is the only one standing in front of me.
“Lauren, what’s wrong? You hung up on me, the front door was still open, you’re screaming at the top of your lungs…” Raven asks frantically.
“Cal.” I race past Raven into Caylen’s room.
She looks up from her crib and smiles at me. I open her closet and see no one is there.
Raven rushes into the room behind me. “Lauren, honey, what’s wrong? What happened?” She leads me over to the lounger and sits down, gathering me in her arms.
“He was here. He was here, Raven,” I stammer between sobs.
“Cal was here?” she asks frantically.
“He was here! He was in here with Caylen, talking to her,” I whimper, trying to catch my breath.
“You saw him?” Raven asks, confusion evident on her face.
“I-I heard him. On the baby monitor. I heard him talking to her.” I sniff.
Her expression changes. “Honey, did you actually see him?”
“No, Raven, but I heard him. I was locked in my room. He had to have locked the door!” I yell at her.
“Honey, are you sure you weren’t dreaming?” she asks, trying to hug me, and I pull away.
“No,” I tell her, beginning to cry harder.
She looks at me in disbelief.
“I wasn’t fucking dreaming!” I shout. She looks perplexed. I realize how harsh I sound and wipe my cheeks. “I’m sorry.” I begin to cry again. “But I wasn’t dreaming. I know I wasn’t, Raven!”
“How do you know you weren’t, sweetie?” Raven asks in a calm tone, as if speaking any louder will set me off.
“Because I wasn’t. I’ve dreamed before, and this wasn’t a dream!” I try to convince her, though my throat is sore.
“Maybe you imagined it.”
“I didn’t imagine anything. I’m not hallucinating!”
“I didn’t say you were,” she tells me quickly.
I walk over to the rocking chair I read to Caylen on and sink into it, my face in my hands. “Why now then, Raven? Why, after almost two years, would I just all of a sudden begin to imagine things?”
“Well, today is Caylen’s birthday; maybe this triggered something. Maybe you feel bad about admitting you have feelings for Steven. I don’t know!” Raven tries to reason.
I look at her face. She won’t believe me, no matter what I say.
“Lauren, come have a cup of tea. I’m worried about you,” she says, heading out of the bedroom.
I scowl at her, and she sighs, continuing into the hall. I pick Caylen up and take her back into my room, slamming the door behind me. Sitting on the bed, I hold her close, thankful she’s okay.
“You know Mommy’s not crazy, right?” I ask her.
She stretches and waves her little arms, hitting me in the face. I can’t help but laugh.
“Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I imagined it all,” I mumble.
Then I notice, on her tiny arm, a white gold bracelet I’ve never seen before. It’s engraved with the initials D.L.G. in cursive writing.
“Now I know I’m not crazy.” I sigh in relief and hug her again.
Chapter 14
February 7th, 2011
Today’s our two-month anniversary, and I’m ecstatic. Cal will be home from New York any minute, and the steamy calls and texts we’ve been exchanging have me ready to jump him the second he hits the door. But I won’t. Tonight is going to be special. I have it all planned. Cal’s favorite band is playing to a sold-out crowd at The Vault, but I scored tickets from Ryan. Afterward, we’ll have dinner on the rooftop, made by Luc, Helen’s chef, followed by Cal’s favorite dessert—me, any way he likes.
When I hear the door open, I rush to it and jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Gorgeous.” He smiles widely before I attack his lips. He holds me up easily with one arm and sets his bag down with the other.
“I missed you,” I purr, kissing his neck.
“You ready to show me?” he says, carrying me over to the couch.
He starts to unbutton my sweater, and I lean away from him. His face drops, and I laugh.
“Not until later, babe,” I say, climbing off him.
“Later?” he asks, the disappointment in his face like the pout of a five-year-old. He’s still following me, but I continue to back away from him.
“Yes. I have it all planned. Just be a little patient,” I say with secrecy.
“Just to welcome me home? It’s appreciated but not needed. I want it now,” he says, catching me and picking me up.
I laugh, but my face drops a little. “You don’t know what today is?” I’m a little disappointed—not too much though. I mean, he is a man.
“It’s not your birthday, is it?” he asks.
I frown at him, and he puts me down.
“No, it’s silly anyway,” I say, trying to sound indifferent. I go sit on our couch.
He frowns, squatting in front of me so we’re at eye level. “Babe, please don’t expect me to remember all of these stupid little milestones, because if you do, you’re going to be pissed at me a lot.”
“Seriously, Cal,” I say in disbelief.
“What?” he asks casually.
I brush past him. He’s pretty much told me not to expect anything exciting or memorable from him. I wonder if holidays count? Maybe you don’t celebrate an anniversary every month, and it’s only been two, but they’ve been the happiest two months of my life. Stupid me, wanting to celebrate with him. He’s definitely making me rethink it.