If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle (91 page)

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Authors: Portia Moore

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: If I Break THE COMPLETE SERIES Bundle
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“Lauren.” His voice, the normal one, wakes me out of my trance.

“I can’t believe after all these years that I’ve just heard you sing,” I say quietly.

“That’s because you weren’t with
me
all those years,” he says, an amused grin on his face. I run my hands through my hair. I don’t really know what to say to that but the glint in his eyes makes my skin heat up.

“I-I wanted to talk to you about earlier,” he says, clearing his throat. He cannot show me those divorce papers now. It would be too cruel, not after this.

“Jenna had them drawn up... She gave them to me and I told her I would talk to you about them,” he says, and I can’t look at him anymore. I look at Caylen. I keep my focus on her, that’s what this is all supposed to be about anyway.

“It’s okay, Chris,” I say with every ounce of strength in my body as I look at Caylen. I can’t look at him and say this.

“If that’s what you want,” I say, trying to force the words out without my voice breaking.

“I wasn’t going to give them to you,” he says, focusing his green eyes on mine. I feel my heart stop.

“What?” I ask him, confused. I’m trying to read him but his expression gives away nothing. Not one single thing.

“I just want to slow things down a little. Really think about the future. I want to make sure I’m not making the wrong decision,” he says simply, but his words are anything but simple. Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

“What do you mean, Chris?” I ask, hearing the nervousness in my voice.

“I just don’t want to move so fast anymore. There are a lot of things I need to figure out.”

Great. He’s confused and that leaves us in limbo, but I’ll take it.

“The doctor I scheduled to see has an opening tomorrow,” he says, changing the subject. I don’t want to change the subject now, but him seeing a doctor is really good news.

“That’s great, Chris,” I say, and he nods.

“She’s in Chicago,” he continues. “I’m a little nervous about going,” he admits, sitting on the bed.

“Do you want me to go with you?” I ask him.
Please let him say yes.

“Please,” he says simply.

“Okay.” It’s all I can manage to say because my thoughts are racing, my emotions are on overload, and my body…let’s not even go there.

“I’ll talk to my mom about watching Caylen. My appointment’s at 3:00. I figure we should leave around 10:30,” he says, standing up and walking to the door. He has increased the space between us. Space is good. Space makes me feel less likely to do something stupid.

“Great.” I feel a smile spread across my face. He picks up his guitar and stands in the doorway like he doesn’t want to leave, our eyes locked on each other’s.

“Goodnight, Lauren,” he finally says.

“Goodnight, Chris,” I reply, and he closes the door behind him. I let out a deep breath even though that conversation almost took it away completely. I don’t really know where I stand with him. I don’t know what all this means but I feel that single flame of hope catching fire right about now, and I don’t want to think about anything that will put it out.

W
e finally make it to Chicago, my home away from home in some weird way. The GPS says we’re 10 minutes away from the doctor’s office. I’m doing this. I’m supposed to tell a complete stranger my deepest darkest secrets, except I don’t know what any of them are. Only my mom knows what I’m doing. I didn’t tell Aidan, Lisa, Jenna or my dad. It’s something I wanted to do on my own without any bad vibes. My trust in doctors is still butchered from my last experience, but this is a clean slate. She doesn’t know me,
Cal
, my parents, or my affiliation with the Crestfields so she has no agenda.

Lauren offered to drive, but I felt like driving would help calm my nerves and I’m more nervous about this than I thought I would be. I don’t know what to expect or what’s going to happen. I hate putting so much trust in someone else’s hands, letting someone manipulate my thoughts, essentially playing around with my brain. A part of me wants to forget the whole thing. I’ve been doing fine so far, and my dad has always said, “if something’s not broke don’t go trying to fix it.” The thing is, I think I am broken, almost at least.

I’m functional, like a car that gets you where you need to be, but you never know when that clinking sound it makes is going to cause a complete breakdown. I can’t be like an unreliable vehicle. I’m a dad and Lauren’s depending on me. I glance over at her. She’s been pretty quiet. She slept most of the way and just woke up a couple of minutes ago.

“We’re in your neck of the woods,” I joke, glad she’s awake.

“Yup. The big city.” She smiles widely as we enter downtown. Her face is animated.

She loves it here. She misses this…

“I’ve only been here once, for a high school field trip,” I say, and then realize how ridiculous that sounds.

“Well, that I remember,” I add quietly. I guess that’s one reason I’m seeing this woman.

“If she’s in this district, she’s doing pretty well,” Lauren replies.

“Let’s hope that means she knows what she’s doing.” I chuckle nervously.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” Her smile is reassuring even though I notice her sigh. When we reach the building, it takes us another ten minutes to find parking. I wanted to keep looking but we ended up in a parking lot that cost us twenty-five dollars for three hours. What a rip off! Lauren didn’t even flinch. I show Lauren the address and she confirms we’re parked three blocks from the building. As we make our way down the busy street, I take it all in.

There are so many people: men, women, old, young, all different nationalities and ethnicities. There are three guys dancing in front of a fast food restaurant and people are putting money in a bucket in front of them. On another block, there’s a man dressed in a suit and tie telling people they’re going to hell. According to this guy, literally everyone is going to hell.

Lauren looks up at me, amused by my amazement. I’m surprised when she slips her hand in mine but I don’t hesitate to give her a gentle squeeze. I’m amazed at how her hand seems to fit so perfectly in mine. You’d think it was meant specifically for me. She quickly pulls me through the crowd and we make our way to the tall, gold and black building with the address printed on the front. Once we enter, the atmosphere is quiet, a stark contrast from the hustle and bustle outside.

“There should be a directory near the elevator,” Lauren says, letting go of my hand. I wish she hadn’t, but I remind myself I’m a grown man and not a scared little boy. We reach the elevator, and sure enough, the practice’s name is on the directory. Good thing she’s only on the 5th floor. The elevator ride goes faster than I want it to.

“It’s going to be fine, Chris,” she reassures me again. I must look as nervous as I feel. At least we’re the only people in the elevator. When the doors open, there are large embossed letters with the name of the practice on display. We walk through the door and head to the receptionist’s desk.

“Good afternoon, welcome to New Horizons.” The receptionist seems cheerfully.

“Hi. I have an appointment with Dr. Clemons at three,” I say, clearing my throat.

“Excellent. Your name please?”

“Christopher Scott.” I’m tapping my fingers on the desk.

“Dr. Clemons is usually booked months in advance. You were really lucky to catch a cancellation,” she says with a bright smile, and I smile too. They must have hired this girl for her voice, because I already feel a little better. Lauren touches my shoulder before heading to what looks to be the waiting area. The receptionist takes my ID and insurance card. I glance over at Lauren and see her flipping through a magazine. She’s sitting with her legs crossed, but one leg is wiggling back and forth. I’m not the only one nervous.

“Okay, Christopher, there are a couple of forms. The first few are the standard confidentiality agreement, HIPPA form, and authorization to bill your insurance. After those are done, you’ll be directed to an assessment screen. Some of the questions may not apply to your visit and you can feel free to not answer them,” she explains, handing me an iPad and a stylus.

“Cool,” I say a little impressed.

“Dr. Clemons will be alerted once everything is complete and she will be right with you. If there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask. If you’d feel more comfortable in a private setting we do have an intake room that is available,” she offers.

“No, I’m fine,” I say gratefully, and I make my way to a seat near Lauren.

“iPad?” she kids.

“Fancy.” I laugh, feeling a little more at ease. I scroll through the paper work and sign. Everything starts off smoothly enough until I get to the health questionnaire. That’s when my head starts to hurt.

 

1. Do you have frequent dizzy spells?

2. Do you have obsessive feelings to communicate, but are fearful to do so?

8. Do you have frequent panic attacks?

42. Do you feel isolated even at social gatherings?

79. Do you have seemingly unshakable addictions (drugs, tobacco, food, or sex?)

104. Do you seem to hear voices when no one else is around?

 

By the time I’m finished, I’m expecting to see:
Your results are in and you’re bat-shit crazy
flash across the scene. I let out a deep sigh and run my hands across my face.

“Was it that bad?” Lauren asks with a smile.

“Worse,” I joke. After answering all these questions, the doctor should have a complete treatment plan all set up before she calls me back there.

“Did the questions seem relevant?” she asks curiously. That’s the bad part.

“Almost all of them,” I nod before getting up and returning the iPad to the receptionist.

“Dr. Clemons will be right with you,” she promises, taking it from me. ‘Right with me’ has turned into almost forty minutes. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until my stomach starts to growl. I left all my candy in the car.

“You want me to run and grab you something?” Lauren asks, hearing the monstrous growl it just made.

“No. Hopefully this will be over soon,” I say, though the optimism I had at the beginning of the visit is fading fast.

“Mr. Scott, Dr. Clemons will see you now,” the receptionist calls out to me. I look at Lauren and she pats my leg before I stand. Once I’m standing, I see that a door near the reception desk is open. Standing at the door is an older woman with a long braid, wearing a white sweater and long grey skirt.

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