"The girl's name is Lauren," I correct her.

"I think it's time that we meet Lauren," she says with a wide smile.

"Okay," I say simply grabbing my jacket preparing for the jacked up Chicago weather that's going to greet me downstairs. Her eyebrows raise.

"That's it. It's that simple?" she asks surprised.

"She's been asking questions about meeting my family and, well, you know that wouldn't exactly work out," I say sarcastically.

"I'm shocked. You really care about her?" she says, way too excited. She even comes from behind her big intimidating desk and swats me on the chest. I shrug her off but I can't help but smile. It feels good for it to be out there. That it's been said.

"Have you told her about..."

"No and I expect it not to come up in conversation," I warn her.

"Of course. I would never-I have an oath that I'm bound by," she says gesturing to her wall of a thousand degrees.

"I will be Dexter's beautiful brilliant wife, and your friend only," she says happily.

"And make sure Dex doesn't make any snide comments, I'd hate to kick his a.s.s in his own house."

"I will handle Dexter. I will have Luc come and make a fantastic dinner; we will tell her how great you are."

"Well, I'll see you. Email me the details," I say heading out the door.

"Cal," she calls. I knew that was too easy.

"If you really care about her. You should tell her or at least start to prepare her. It's not fair for her to not know," she says solemnly. I pull out the little bottle of pills she gave me earlier.

"If you're as good as you say you are. Soon there won't be anything for her to know."

I want to get Helen's words out of my head. I'm not afraid of much, but the thought of Lauren finding out about me, of her looking at me differently scares the s.h.i.t out of me. I can hear music playing before I open the door.

She stayed.

I've been trying to get her to stay at my house when I go on trips for the past few months but she always puts up a fight, she's stubborn as h.e.l.l. I didn't take her for that when I first met her. The only time she really gives in is when I'm inside her, and I can't complain about that.

"You're home early," she squeals from over the railing upstairs. Her smile is always contagious. She bounces down the stairs, wearing a tight t-shirt squeezing her apple sized b.r.e.a.s.t.s and tiny shorts that she won't have on much longer. She jumps in my arms.

"Ugh, you're cold!" she laughs trying to get away but I hold her close to me.

"I'm about to warm you up," I tell her, my hand slipping underneath her shirt.

"Your hands aren't," she purrs, kissing me lightly. Just a taste, a tease, she's about to give way more than that.

"You're just in time to watch The Notebook," she says excitedly attempting to get out of my grasp.

"The Notebook..." I groan.

h.e.l.l no.

"And there's popcorn," she giggles, gesturing to it.

Ugh. I want to say no then she gives me her s.e.xy a.s.s little pout face. I roll my eyes.

"Okay," I give in.

"Yay!" she claps her hands and then helps me take off my coat and puts it in the closet. I flop on my couch and a second later she scooches in front of me.

"You used my shampoo."

"You know, I like smelling like you," she admits with a chuckle.

"Was it terrible being here?"

"Absolutely, it's too big, too luxurious and is not up to my standards at all," she says sarcastically.

"My friend Dex. The one I told you about. Him and Helen invited us to dinner," I say casually.

"You want me to?" she asks, her tone almost surprised.

"Only if you want to go."

"I do," she says quickly.

"Good." A few minutes pa.s.s as I try to think of the most discreet way to get her out of these shorts. If her b.u.t.t didn't look so good in them, I'd beg her to only wear skirts and dresses.

"I was starting to think you were ashamed of me or something," she says playfully, but there's a hint of truth behind her voice. I turn her towards me.

"I'd have to be a f.u.c.king lunatic to be ashamed of you," I tell her and she smiles, the same smile that got me here instead of watching the game, watching The Notebook. She kisses me, it's innocent, but enough of an opening for me to pull her lips into mine, her mouth opens partially and I coax out her tongue and squeeze her a.s.s. It drives her crazy and the little sounds she makes trying to hide the fact make me insane.

"Nooo," she moans into my mouth and breaks away.

"Not until the movie's over," she giggles, quickly turning away from me but she's close enough I can change her mind. I slip my hands underneath her t-shirt and drag my fingers across her stomach. She takes my hand in hers, stopping my path. I grunt.

"I know what you're trying to do," she giggles and I stop and look at her and think about this moment. I could be like this with her...forever. Except forever isn't really an option with me, unless this medicine works that Helen's team has been working on. Since I'm volunteering to be the first guinea pig it's all a toss-up, but when I look at her...the risk is worth the reward.

You should just tell her.

Helen's voice echoes in my head. I can't just tell her-for one, she probably wouldn't believe me, and if she did, it would change everything.

She's mine, the one good thing in my life and I'm not going to share her. Everything comes easy for him, life just hands itself over to him and when it doesn't, he gives up and leaves me to deal with the hard part. I have to fight for what I get, nothing comes easy.

Finding Clay with as much money as I've spent should be easy but it's been a nightmare, him slipping out of my grasp as soon as I have him. He's the last thing I need to put to bed. After he's done, maybe, just maybe, things will be easy and I can have a chance at something with Lauren. Before her I never wanted a permanent fixture in my life, now I need it more than anything.

I won't let it go.

Lauren I feel like a clock is running, each second that pa.s.ses causes a crack to appear in an already fragile gla.s.s that's barely holding itself together. I hoped coming back to Madison would provide some time of normalcy, some form of comfort, but right now it feels constricting, like I'm trapped, unable to escape and everything is closing in. My visit with Aidan didn't yield any information and just made me feel as if I'm strapped next to a bomb that's going to blow, but I can't leave because the man I love is strapped in a chair next to it...

I hate all of this, secrets and lies. I thought I was moving past that but I was wrong. I was wrong about Cal opening up to me. I was wrong about thinking Chris would be more understanding of this situation with Cal and I was wrong to think that I could handle this on my own, that I could make this work. Right now it seems like nothing is okay.

Everything is on the brink of chaos. My head won't stop pounding, anxiety has planted itself in my chest and I feel like I'm constantly in a marathon, but I can't appear that way. I have to appear strong, I have to appear hopeful, that I haven't given up, that things are looking up from here, but in reality I'm barely holding on. So many conflicting emotions coursing through me, battling with each other until I'm exhausted, tired and starting to feel numb.

I try to pull some version of myself together as I sit outside the Crestfield mansion. It's an extremely large estate, enough to have about eight regular sized homes on it. Helen's in there, waiting on me. I was excited about seeing her, someone who could possibly help me to understand the reality of this, but now I feel like I'm going to see a doctor who holds my life in her hands. When I arrive at the door I'm greeted by one of the housekeepers. She leads me to the second floor, sun seeping through the house, extravagant paintings on the wall. The decor doesn't seem to fit Helen or Dexter at all. It feels as if we've been walking forever through the house, well mansion, this is a mansion.

When we reach our destination the housekeeper knocks on the door and introduces me. It's all so formal and a bit intimidating. Helen calls for us to come in. The room is large and, of course, all white and neutral colors. Helen is sitting behind a white desk that stretches out across one corner of the room. There are two big beige arm chairs in front of the desk and a fire place adjacent. The other side of the room seems more for pleasure with a large television mounted on the wall and a matching white sofa sprawled out in front of it. The carpet is white with not one blemish on it. It's modern and completely different from the rest of the house.

"Lauren," she greets me. Her tone is warm and welcoming. She looks different with her hair half up and the rest down. She's wearing a large b.u.t.ton up that falls over her statuesque frame and black tights underneath.

"Could you bring up a pitcher of lemon water, Grace?" Helen asks, coming from behind her desk.

"Of course Mrs. Crestfield," the housekeeper says before leaving the room.

"Is it okay if I give you a hug?" she asks cautiously, and I can feel my cheeks heat up, embarra.s.sed about what happened the last time I saw her. I nod, meeting her half way. Her embrace isn't awkward or stiff, which is how I expected it to be, but warm and comforting. I wonder if the Helen I knew, is the real Helen. Cool, calm, collected and sharp. Was that the role she had to play to observe me, to make sure I was a good fit for him? Or is she playing the role now as a nice kind ear just ready to listen and filled wisdom and knowledge. The thought makes me stiffen up. She pulls back from me, her expression sad and full of sincerity.

"I just want to say how sorry I am Lauren," she says with my hands in hers, "and if someone did to me what I did to you I would have reacted just as you did."

"I know why you did what you did. I don't think it was right, and I really wish that you didn't, but that's in the past. I really need your help in understanding what our future is going to be like," I tell her.

"Right," she nods in understanding and gestures to one of the big white chairs in front of her desk. I take a seat in what feels like a piece of heaven and hope I don't drift off right there.

Grace reappears with a pitcher of lemon iced water and two gla.s.ses which she pours for both of us.

"Thank you Grace, that will be all, and can you please make sure I have no interruptions?" Grace nods in response before closing the door behind her as she leaves.

"How are you?" she asks and I start to answer, attempting to tell her that I'm fine and just ready to work on making things right, but the moment my mouth opens my lip starts to quiver and I unleash everything that has been pent up. I cry for what Cal and I had, I cry for not knowing the truth for so long. I cry for the dreams I had for him and I that will never happen, for what Chris and I had seeming so far away, for everything that I have no control over, for the things that I can never fix, what I don't even know needs to be fixed. I cry in her arms for I don't even know how long until I can't cry anymore. When I'm done she hands me the gla.s.s of water, after I use the Kleenex on her desk to clean my face.

"How do you feel now?" she asks, going back around her desk and sitting down. I manage a smirk.

"I feel numb now, which is better than how I felt before I got here," I admit.

"How are things with the Scotts?" she asks, her tone empathetic.

"Mr. Scott hates me," I chuckle.

"He hates you?"

"Yes. He hates me. He hates Cal and he thinks I trigger Cal so he in turn hates me."

"He has never been fond of Cal but to reflect his hate on you..."

"Is he right? Do I bring Cal out?" I ask her.

"It's not a bad thing Lauren." I look at her in disbelief.

"Have you grown to resent him, Lauren?" she asks and my mouth falls agape.

"Of course not," I say, feeling my defenses rise.

"I don't mean to insult you and I could see it being a perfectly normal reaction after everything."

"I don't resent Cal. I resent some of the things that he does and how he goes about things but I could never resent him. I love him."

"Good," Helen says with a warm smile.

"You're the only person that seems to think so," I say, resting my head in my hands.

"Do you feel guilty for loving Cal since you've met Chris?" I look up at her and my eyes glide to the wall full of certificates and degrees and it hits me that Helen is the real deal. I never knew her this way. I knew she was smart and she used to be a doctor, though I never really thought to ask her what kind, I just had her pegged as this beautiful, trophy wife.

"I do." I admit, and it feels good to be able to say it out loud.

"Since I've met him and his parents and knowing all they've been through, I feel guilty for wanting Cal back. Especially knowing that when he's back they lose their son." She nods as if she understands and leans forward on her desk.

"The hardest thing about treating patients with DID, Dissociative Ident.i.ty Disorder, is getting them to understand that each and every alter is a side of them. To not look at them differently or as an appendage they want severed."

"I-I still feel really new to this." I let out a deep sigh. "This is just from what I was able to pull off google, but integration is the final goal?"

"Yes. But it has to be their goal. As long as they still fight one another and can't come to common ground, integration isn't a possibility," she explains sullenly. I run my hands across my face.

"Getting those two to agree to integrate," I chuckle dryly. "It's not going to happen," I say, letting out a deep sigh.

"I will say Lauren, it's a lot more likely since you've come into their life." I shake my head.

"Neither of them is all that thrilled with me at the moment," I sigh. She looks at me questioningly. "It's really complicated," I mumble, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Complicated is my specialty," she says with a rea.s.suring smile.

I explain to her all that's happened between Chris and I and how Cal reappeared and was so angry and how Chris says he doesn't remember us sleeping together. It feels so good getting it off my chest, I end up telling her about the conversation between Lisa and me and how I don't know what to do to fix things when I'm not sure what needs to be fixed.

"Well that is a bit complicated," she sighs. "First. There is nothing to feel guilty about. You are his wife. We must remember that Cal and Chris are the same man.

However, you must understand that they each think of themselves as separate ent.i.ties so they are not going to be understanding of the fact. It's completely normal for them to see being with the other as an act of infidelity."

"Infidelity. I've never cheated on Cal a day in my life. I was never unfaithful," I say defensively.

"I know that Lauren, but Cal won't see it that way. In fact you being with Chris may be worse for him than if you were with another man."

My mouth drops open. She can't be serious.

"Bear with me please," she says, being able to tell she's losing me.

"You have to understand that as far as Cal is concerned you're his wife, and in addition to that, he feels as if you belong to him. You are the one thing in his life that didn't belong to Chris. It's one of the many reasons that he never wanted Chris to know about the condition. Why he never told you the truth," she explains and I feel my stomach twist into knots.

"Is this something that you're inferring or that he told you?" I ask.

"Patient privilege," she says with a weak smile and I let out a sigh.