If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (94 page)

“This is a really nice place,” I admit stuffing my hands in my pocket.

“Yeah, thanks,” she sort of laughs then shakes her head.

“You chose everything in this apartment, well almost...even me,” she chuckles. Then her expression shatters.

“Bad joke, really bad joke” she says covering her face.

“No it wasn’t that bad, maybe work on your delivery a little,” I joke, touching her hands and moving them away from her face.

Don’t ever hide that beautiful face from me again.

The moment is brief but I just saw her sitting a table in a diner, her hands over her face, just the way they were now, but he was the one removing them.

“Are you going to let go?” she whispers, and I wonder how long I’ve been holding her hands.

“I’m sorry,” I say, stepping away from her. I feel like an idiot.

“What just happened, Chris?” she asks apprehensively.

“Nothing, I just...” I stumble over my words but she’s obviously not buying it. She just sighs a little.

“I’m going to order some food. Chinese okay?” she asks, moving from the space we just shared in the doorway.

“Yeah, that’s great,” and before I can even finish my statement, she’s heading down the stairs.

Ugh, that wasn’t awkward at all.

This trip was supposed to help me find something I like about him but so far, it’s making me do the opposite. I know it’s him doing this, ruining everything, throwing bits and pieces of memories at me at the most awkward times possible.

No need for me to interfere. You’re screwing this up all by yourself.

There it is again! I close the door behind me, walk over to the needlessly large mirror and stare at it.

“You are an asshole!” I say into it. “And I can’t wait to get rid of you!”

Such language, Chris. Sorry, but the mirror isn’t going to talk back. We don’t have hallucinations.

“Go away. Right now!” My anger is getting the best of me.

But we haven’t had any fun yet.

“This is fun for you? Making me talk to myself, driving me crazy, destroying Lauren’s life is fun for you?”

“Chris, who are you talking to?” Lauren says, her voice slightly raised. How much did she hear?

I really am going crazy.

“My parents,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket.

“I was letting them know we were taking a break before heading back,” I say quickly.

She looks at me skeptically but her worried expression disappears. She tells me that the food will be here in a half hour. Before she walks away, she asks if I’d like her to close the door. I tell her I’ll be down in a minute, then turn to go into the bathroom. She just looks at me and oddly walks away. She knows I’m crazy.

Great idea coming here.

S
omething is going on with him. I don’t know what it is, but he seems nervous and a little timid. I was going to the room to ask him what type of Chinese he wanted me to order for him and I heard him talking, or better yet, arguing. I didn’t hear exactly what was going on but whatever it was, he was livid. I’ve never heard him that angry before. He said he was talking to his parents but I just don’t see how that could be the case unless he just hung up on them as soon as I came in the room.

I wonder if coming here, bringing him to the apartment and letting him see our life, was not such a good idea. He had just seen his doctor. Maybe this was too much too soon, but he looked so tired in the car. Now he doesn’t look tired, he looks annoyed, maybe even a little paranoid. His appetite is normal though. He’s eaten two plates of Chinese food but he’s been so quiet I don’t really know what to make of it. No jokes, no short stories. He looks like he’s in deep thought and it’s causing the tension in the air to be heavy.

“How do you like the food?” I ask him even though he’s been devouring it. I want him to say something, to break whatever reverie he’s in. It’s almost like he’s reverted back to the man who showed up at my hotel room after I exploded on his front porch. I definitely don’t want us to go back there.

“It’s really good. I’m stuffed now,” he says washing down his food with the glass of orange soda.

“I’m glad you liked it,” I say, starting to clean up the table.

“I don’t need a nap if you just want to hit the road in a few,” he says, standing and stretching. I look back at him surprised as I throw away the take out containers. After most people eat as much as he did, especially Chinese, they want to sleep for a while. Now he’s ready to hit the road? Once I turn all the way around I have to admit he looks alert, the anxiety and worry on his face are gone. Maybe just being here is what makes him uncomfortable. I try to pretend that doesn’t bother me. Cal and I had a lot of fights and tough times here but so many good ones as well. The idea that being here makes Chris so distressed doesn’t bode well and I wonder if he’ll find anything good about Cal.

“What did you do with his stuff?” he asks as he walks up beside me to throw away his plate. I wish he wouldn’t stand so close to me. Actually, I wish he would stand much closer but I’m trying to ignore the fact that whenever he’s near me my body comes alive. Every nerve ending in my body awakens and begs to be touched. I’m learning to tune them out and each day it gets a little easier. But today it’s a little harder. Especially when he’s standing so close looking down at me in the very room where he did so many things that my body remembers and misses.

Stop it Lauren!

“What did you say?” I ask. I’m so caught up in my own thoughts I can’t remember what he just asked me.

“His things. When I looked around up stairs, I didn’t go in your closet or anything, but it looks like it’s just you and Caylen that live here. Do you still have his stuff?” he asks stuffing his hands into his pocket. Oh, that’s what he was saying.

“It’s in storage,” I say, taking a small step away from him, even inches between us are good. The closer I am, the more it seems like his energy makes me want to do crazy things, like cup his face in my hands, kiss his lips and feel the body that I’ve missed so much.

“Can I see them?” he asks, interrupting a train of thought that I shouldn’t be on, one that leaves me flushed and breathless.

“It could help with the homework,” he answers, obviously noticing the surprise on my face.

“Of course. I don’t know why I didn’t think to ask you,” I admit with a nervous chuckle. He gives me a smile that makes me melt. With the simplest gesture, Chris has a way of making me feel like everything will be okay. I grab my keys, a box cutter and more tape from the kitchen drawer before we head out the door. He follows me out of our apartment. When we’re in the elevator and the door closes, I see him gulp and close his eyes

I hit floor fifteen and then the basement level. If it goes straight down I’m not entirely sure he won’t throw up.

“You okay?” I steal a glance while I try and cover up my smile.

“Yup,” he says tightly, his hands folded together. Thankfully for Chris the ride is over quickly and the door opens to a hallway leading to our storage area.

“This is a pretty nice basement,” Chris comments as he follows me. He doesn’t miss a thing. I said the same thing when I saw it. It looks more like a big loft type office space than a storage area but I guess this isn’t an ordinary apartment building.

When we get to the door of our space I let out a small breath. Last time I was here I was putting Cal’s things away. I never imagined that when I came back to get them it would be like
this.

“It’d be easier if you stayed but if you don’t want to, I get it,” his eyes sympathetic and his voice warm. I plaster on my practiced smile. I haven’t used it in a little while and I hope it’s still effective,

“No, it’s fine and there’s a lot of stuff,” I say with a laugh, opening the door. There are at least twenty boxes here.

“Wow,” he says as we step in. I fold my arms.

“Over there are the clothes he wore for work, shoes, underwear…” I turn to the other wall. “Those are more casual things. You’d probably feel more comfortable in
them,”
I say. I started referring to him and Cal as the same person when we first got here. It’s what I’ve been wanting to do for so long but since he started acting weird I thought it might be better if I stopped.

“This is a lot of stuff,” he says, resting his hands on his head and letting out an overwhelmed sigh.

“He liked to have a lot of things,” I chuckle, nodding my head.

“Can we start here?” he asks, pointing to boxes of things that I don’t think are his taste at all.

“Sure,” I say with a shrug. He starts pulling down boxes from the top rows. He opens the first box and it reveals Cal’s variety of button ups, upwards of two hundred dollars a shirt. I see him frown as he goes through an endless array of them. He opens another box, revealing his blazers and vests. Box three is full of endless ties.

“What do you think?” I ask quietly observing him as he picks through each. He looks up at me as if he had forgotten I was standing here. He shakes his head.

As he returns to a standing position, he sighs. “None of
this
is really me,” he shrugs. He pulls out a smaller box tucked inside one of the larger ones he pulled down. I already know what it contains. Cal’s watches. His eyes widen when he opens the box. He picks one up, examines it, then looks over at me.

“Rolex, Cartier, there’s like twenty of these,” he says in disbelief.

“He liked watches,” I shrug with a laugh.

Chris isn’t finding this funny.

“There’s enough money in this box to buy someone a car,” he says disdainfully. “I bet he only eats caviar and escargot,” he jokes and I feel a little offended.

“Uhm no,” I say folding my arms.

“It just a little a hoity toity,” he laughs, scratching his head and I feel my defenses rise.

“He likes nice things but he’s far from being a snob if that’s what you mean.”

“It’s hard to tell by looking in these boxes. I thought I’d recognize myself somewhere in all this. So far I’m not seeing anything.”

“This building, his clothes, all this stuff. It just isn’t me,” he says as he pulls another box from the pile. His words hit a nerve and I feel myself biting my lip. I start to think that if his tastes are so different from Cal’s that I’m probably not ‘him’ either.

“The school does a clothing drive every year. Selling this stuff could make a lot of money for the fundraiser,” he says and I hear my breath catch.

“You want to sell all of it?” I ask abruptly. His glance catches mine.

“I mean, if that’s okay with you. I just think most of this is unnecessary. It’s definitely not my style.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. He wants to sell it. All of it…

My face is getting hot and my heartbeat speeds up. Screw the homework assignment and the visit to the doctor. I thought that this would be progress, that by him seeing his doctor and coming here he would somehow connect with Cal, that these things would help him to not hate that part of himself. But after everything that’s happened I’m beginning to think that he didn’t come here to connect with Cal. He came here to sweep him under the rug and tie up loose ends. The next time he comes he’ll probably be selling the apartment and closing accounts.

“I’m going back upstairs,” I say as evenly as I can.

“Lauren, you’re not mad at me are you?” he asks putting down the box and locking eyes with me. Of course I’m mad but I can’t say it.

I break away from his stare and reaffix my fake smile.

“I’m not upset. It’s your
stuff.
You can do what you want with it,” I say, trying to neutralize the bitterness in my voice as I head towards the exit.

“Floor thirty, suite B,” I tell him before I head out of the storage room. As I head to the elevator, a single tear falls. I don’t know why I’m so upset. They’re his things to sell. What he’s doing isn’t wrong. They’re not even my things, and if he wants to use it for charity, for God’s sake, it’s fine. Still it feels like a dagger in my heart. Just another major reminder that he’s not Cal he’s Chris and Chris
hates
Cal.

“Hey, wait, Lauren,” he calls after me. I stop but I can’t face him.