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“I want a divorce!” I shout over my shoulder. “I never want to see you again! Don’t you ever come near me or Caylen again! I’ll send your shit through Dexter. I want it all out of my house!” “How does she know Dexter? How the hell does she know Dexter, Chris?” I hear the
“Chris and Cal share the same body, but the person you met today is Chris, not Cal,”
compassionately. “Chris has what is called dissociative identity disorder.”
“What about me? You keep saying what everyone thought was best for Cal, for Chris. What about me? Did anyone stop to think what this would do to me? Did anyone for a second stop to look at me as a person and not some form of treatment!” I shout angrily.
“I’m Cal’s wife?” I shout. “You never bothered to tell me that Cal isn’t real, so right now, I’m married to your son!”
It’s funny that now I have a baby with Chris, when a minute ago I was married to Cal.
“Secrets aren’t okay when you’re the one on the other end, are they?”
“But she deserves a father, whether it’s Cal, or Chris, or if he decides to call himself Bob. One of them had a part in making her.”
“I-I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” His voice is shaky, his expression one I’ve never seen before.
“Don’t get me wrong. He could be arrogant, mean, and snide… a lot. But that isn’t all there was to him. He’s so much more than that. He could be kind… caring… protective.”
I glance over and see that his cheeks are bright red. He’s blushing! I realize that in my entire life, I’ve never seen him blush.
“Please say something,” I urge nervously, trying to cut the thick tension in the room. I’m sitting between three of the most opinionated women I’ve ever met, and I think for once, they’re all speechless.
“The last time I did that, you ended up fainting.” She chuckles dryly.
diagnosis that’s still highly debatable in the mental health community.
“Chris?” I say hesitantly, making my way to the doorway. “You scared the hell out of me!” One hand covers my pounding heart as I make my way toward him But as I get closer, I see his chest is heaving up and down. He’s sucking in as much air as he can, his clothing and hair wet from the storm and clinging to his body. My mind says to ask him if he’s okay and what he’s doing here, but when I look at his eyes, which are set directly on me, he shakes his head. A grin appears on his face, and I know. “Close, but not quite right,” he says, seemingly winded but with a familiar grin.
“So you’re giving up on me—on us. Just like that?”
I don’t know what more he wants me to do, other than knock Chris on the head until he comes out?
I squeeze Caylen’s little hand as we walk toward the towering front porch. Her tiny steps are making this the longest walk ever.
face. I watch as he squats down to her eye level. “I thought you might like this,” he says, holding out the little penguin. “Pepe!” she says excitedly, taking the penguin and putting it in her mouth.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says to her. In the briefest second, he turns toward me, his smile familiar, and he winks at me. My breath hitches. And as fast as the moment happened—before I can verify it even did happen—it’s gone.
