by Portia Moore
She frowns at me, but then she breaks into a laugh. “Ooh I see. This is a joke. Good one Chris, you almost had me for a minute, but you know I can see right through your pranks,” she pats him on the chest.
“Does it look like I’m joking?” I tell her frantically, a sting of unshed tears forming behind my eyes. She stops laughing. I look Cal in the face, and he’s looking at me as if he has no idea who I am.
“Cal, tell her!” I yell at him, desperately trying not to cry in frustration. This can’t be happening!
“My name isn’t Cal!” his voice raises in a panic.
“Chris, who is she?!” the woman asks him again angrily, the idea of this being a prank now out the window.
“Jenna , I’ve never seen this woman before in my life!” he tries to tell her pleadingly.
“You asshole!” I scream, pushing him. How can this not be Cal! It’s him! It is! It’s his voice! His face! I have the same feeling I have when I’m near him…almost. And I can feel it so much now since I’ve been deprived of it for so long…
“You don’t know who I am now!?” I shout angrily as tears stream down my cheeks. “Well who gave me this!” I ask him sardonically. I pull the ring out of my pocket and throw it at him. The woman scrambles after the ring and inspects it.
“Chris, this is a wedding ring!” she shouts, thrusting it in his face.
“I’ve never seen that before in my life! I’ve never seen her in my life!” he yells, pointing at me as if I’m a stranger. He’s in a clear state of panic, almost matching my own.
“Chris, don’t lie to me!” she screams at him.
“She doesn’t even know my name! She’s crazy!” he yells back at the woman. She looks at me, trying to determine who the liar in this. His facial expression softens, and he moves towards her, taking her hand.
“Jenna, I swear to you. I have no idea what she’s talking about,” he pleads to her more calmly.
I begin to laugh hysterically. I’m about to vomit. I have to be dreaming. This is a nightmare, this can’t be happening! “Who the hell is she to you? This is why you left? Is this who you left me for?!” I say through my tears, snatching his arm.
“He’” she snarls at me. I begin to laugh again covering my face as I step back from the couple. I shake my head in disbelief consciously chuckling. I have to laugh because if I don’t I’m going to fucking explode. I feel myself boiling, and finally, I spill over.
“How the hell can he marry you, when he’s still married to me?!” I shout gripping my head. My chest is so tight and my head is pounding.
“I don’t even know you, who are you? How do you know me?” he asks me angrily.
“All of this time, all of this time you’ve been lying to me and now… Now! You act as if you don’t even know who I am!” I begin to cry hysterically.
“You swore to me this wasn’t about another woman. You fucking asshole!” I continue cursing the entire time. This son of a bitch doesn’t deserve anything from me. I turn and stomp down the steps towards my car, “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!” I growl viciously at him.
“How does she know Dexter? How the hell does she know Dexter, Chris?” I hear the woman yell.
“I don’t know Jenna, this has to be a joke!” he says through panicked laughter. Joke? I turn back around and head up the stairs.
“Joke! I’m a joke? You think ruining my life was a fucking joke!?” I run back up the stairs and push and hit him with all the energy I can muster and he tries to restrain me. Jenna interjects, “Get your hands off of him!” she screams, attempting to tug me away from Cal.
She has a firm grip on my arm. My anger is in complete control and I push her back violently, one of my hands land directly on her face and she losses her balance, she looks surprised and a second later she’s rushes back toward me. If she wants a fight she picked the right day for it! Cal jumps in the middle of us. Juggling me on one side and restraining her on the other.
I start to feel hot and my vision becomes blurry. How could I believe him after all of these years? He never loved me; this woman in front of him, who he so desperately wants to believe him… he loves her.
A man comes out of the house. He looks bewildered by all the chaos. “What’s going on here?”
“This psycho attacked us!” the blonde yells finally settling down in Cal’s arm.
“This has nothing to do with you!” I catch my breath trying to compose myself at her ridiculous accusation. If anyone is crazy it’s them!
“This was between me and my husband!” I retort.
“What?” the older man asks in confusion.
“Tell her, dad, she doesn’t believe me!” I hear Cal say. The rest of what he says becomes a drone as I’m overcome by dizziness. I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t with this anymore, I feel like Jerry Springer is going to walk out unto the porch at any moment. I start to head back to my car, but my legs feel weak and everything begins to spin around me and…
***
I open my eyes and my vision is blurred at first, but things slowly come into focus. I touch my temples; my head is still pounding as if someone is beating me on the head with a hammer.
I look around and see that I’m in a den; the warm fireplace in front of me is glowing brightly. I look toward the window and see that it’s completely dark outside except for the glowing porch lamp. And as I look through the clear glass, I begin to realize that the events from earlier weren’t a dream, that I haven’t imagined them.
I try to stand up, but my knees feel wobbly, resulting in a quick return to my sitting position. I see my purse sitting on the table in front of me. I wonder how I got in here. I look towards the door and realize that now’s my chance to make a break for it, to get out of this horrible situation I’ve thrown myself into but I know that the answers I need are in this house. I never thought things would go like this. Never in a million years did I ever think I would I almost fight another woman over the man I loved especially one who was claiming to not even know me.
…Engaged. How could I have been so stupid? All of his words his promises, lies, every single last one of them and still what hurts the most is the way he acted… as if he didn’t know me. As if I meant absolutely nothing to him. And what tears me up inside… about the way he acted… he did it so well…
Why go through this whole scheme? Why not just divorce me, or be honest with me and tell me he was in love with someone else? Why did he come to see Caylen? Why did he feed her all of his lies about missing me? He has to be a psychopath or a con; Hillary was right. That can’t be it though, if he is, how will I ever explain this to my daughter? How could he have an entire life with me and have a life here? How is it possible for him to live two lives? How can he own a penthouse in Chicago and live on a farm in Madison? The land is vast, but… it’s just not… him. But then again I guess I don’t know him. I’m more confused than this morning, when I knew absolutely nothing.
“You’re awake.” A soft voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I look up to see a middle-aged, red-haired woman smiling so warmly at me that I instantly feel as if I know her.
“William. She’s up, honey,” she calls toward the kitchen. She walks cautiously toward me and offers me the steaming cup of tea. I look at her cautiously, wanting to know who she is.
“You need to drink something,” she urges me with a smile. I take the cup and sip it slowly.
William. I now recognize the man from the picture as he comes through the door and examines me, warily standing beside the woman. The man’s presence, though non-threatening, is colder than the woman’s, his expression almost set in a frown.
I put the tea down on the table in front of me. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. The man sighs, almost in frustration, and sits in a big chair across from me. He clasps his hands together and
looks at his wife. She stands beside him, resting her hand on his shoulder. They look at me as if they know more than I do, which is very intimidating, since I have no idea who they are.
“You’re very beautiful,” the woman says softly in a sullen tone. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, realizing what I must look like, and beautiful is not it. I quickly adjust my blouse and comb my fingers through my hair.
“You don’t know who we are.” It comes out as a statement, more than a question.
I nod my head. She smiles slightly and looks at the man next to her; he frowns to himself. I watch both of them; they seem to feel as uncomfortable as I am. I slide my hands across my lap and sigh.
“I saw your picture in the paper with Cal,” I say softly, my eyes falling on the man from earlier.
“When you and Chris won the pie eating contest, honey,” I see her smile softly at her husband. I feel my mouth frown up.
“Why do you keep calling him Chris?” I blurt out. I want some answers, and I feel the exigency of the situation beginning to implode inside of me. When she doesn’t answer, more questions fall from my mouth.
“Who are you? What is going on?” The little calmness I have is slowly slipping away.
The couple looks at each other before responding.
“I’m Gwen Scott and this is my husband William,” the woman explains quickly. “We’re Chris’s parents.”
I stand up again. If one more person calls him Chris, I’m going to lose it.
“I want to talk to Cal. I want to talk to him right now!” My voice is rising shakily.
“That’s not possible, honey,” the woman says calmly.
I start to pace in front of the couch angrily. “Does he not want to see me? The damage has already been done! I just– He owes me an explanation!” I start towards the doorway determined to find him if I have to search every room in this house myself.
“Lauren, please calm down,” Mrs. Scott pleads with me.
I stop walking and turn to look at her standing. “You know my name?” I ask quietly. I can tell her expression is trying to hide some pain as she gives me a pitying look before looking back at her husband.
He stands up beside her. “We know who you are,” her husband says sullenly.
“You’re Cal’s wife,” he sighs, folding his arms. His wife looks at me, almost sympathetically.
“Cal,” It feels so good to have someone here say his name. I was starting to feel like I was in the twilight zone.
“So he told you about me? Then, why does he act like he doesn’t know me? Is it because of that woman out there? I’m sorry I don’t know who… He never mentioned you. He-he…” I feel myself starting to choke up. This is too much. Way too much and I barely know anything.
“He doesn’t know who you are,” the woman says, walking closer toward me.
“What?” I clutch my purse to my chest and look at her skeptically.
“The person you saw earlier wasn’t Cal,” her husband tells me.
“I don’t understand… No that was Cal, I know it, it has to be,” I say, finding myself in need of sitting down once again.
“No. It wasn’t,” she says taking a seat beside me. I search her eyes to see if she’s joking. Her expression is soft and compassionate. I don’t understand. He looked like Cal, he sounded like Cal.
“Are you telling me that… is he Cal’s brother? He’s Cal’s twin?” I ask thinking back to Angela’s idea. In fact, it would make sense. That would make sense why he didn’t know me, why he looked at me as if he’d never seen me before in his life. He had never mentioned having a twin brother, but then, he didn’t mention a lot of things.
Her husband’s eyebrows rise on his face. “Yes,” Mr. Scott answers rapidly.
Mrs. Scott frowns at him. “William, no. No more lies; she deserves to know the truth,” she scolds her husband softly, causing her husband to frown at her now.
“She’s not going to understand,” he says, walking away from us both.
“We agreed that we’d tell her,” his wife stands up, facing him.
“What won’t I understand? Is he a twin or isn’t he?” I ask sternly.
“We wish it was that simple,” Mrs. Scott says, looking pained. I glance back and forth between the two.
“Please, I-I don’t know what to think about all of this. I came here hoping for-for something different than what I found. I know what I saw but something within me is hoping it’s not what it looks like,” I laugh pathetically at myself and the hope I still have that this is just a big misunderstanding. I take a deep breath.
“I’ve always felt like Cal had been hiding something from me. I didn’t know what, or why. All I know is that almost two years ago he walked out on me. That he left me without any explanation at all, but I felt like it wasn’t something he did willingly and now…. I finally find him today, but he’s seemingly in love with this other woman, pretending that he has no idea who I am and it hurts so much. If there is something, anything that you can tell me, even if it’s just confirming what I’ve seen today as the truth. Please… please just tell me,” I feel tears starting to stream from my eyes. I wipe them away, waiting for an answer. I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and look up to see Gwen with tears in her own eyes as well. “I only want the truth,” I choke out.
“Even if he doesn’t want to see me again, I just want some kind of answers, closure at least,” I beg her. Her expression still seems hesitant, and she looks at her husband for agreement. I look away from her and turn my attention to him.
He is now gazing out the window. I stand up and touch his arm. I look into this older man’s eyes and see them glimmer with what appears as a strand of vulnerability, but his wall builds up again. Now I see where Cal gets it. He crosses his arms letting out a sigh. I wait, and I will continue to wait until I get an explanation.
“Please,” I say softly, barely a whisper.
“The truth is that the person you married doesn’t exist,” he says, his eyes looking ahead of him more than at me.
I swallow the lump in my throat; I think I expected this.
“So his real name is Chris,” I say, hoping my shaky voice will steady. “He’s been lying to me all along,” I say to myself quietly, wiping away newly shed tears before I wrap my arms around myself for some sort of comfort.
“No sweetheart, you don’t understand,” Mrs. Scott says sympathetically, leading me to sit beside her on the sofa.
“Oh, I understand,” I say, nodding my head as I close my eyes to try and disallow anymore tears from falling.
“I understand he used me. … He never loved me,” my voice betrays me and gives in, releasing a sob.
“Oh, no sweetheart, you have the wrong idea,” she assures me, rubbing my back as if she were my mother. I look at her skeptically, and she takes a deep breath.
“Chris and Cal are...they’re two different people,” she says, taking both of my hands. I look at her husband, and he takes a seat in the large chair from earlier with a grunt of apprehension on the discussion of his son.
“I– I don’t understand,” I stutter, looking back and forth between them. They said he wasn’t a twin.
“Chris and Cal share the same body, but-. The person you met today is Chris, not Cal,” Mrs. Scott explains cautiously.
“That’s the reason why he reacted the way that he did. He truly doesn’t know who you are,” she explains gently, holding my hand, searching my eyes for some kind of reaction to this information.
“Cal is a separate personality from Chris,” she tells me again, slowly, as if I don’t understand. I take my hands from hers.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my attention going to her husband. “A different personality?” I ask looking at him, waiting for some form of confirmation.
“I know this may be hard for you to believe, but it’s the truth,” her husband says sternly.
I shake my head and get up from my seat on the couch.
“We’re telling you the tr
uth…” his wife says more compassionately. “Chris has what is called Dissociative Identity Disorder.”
“Are you trying to tell me that Cal has… that he has multiple personalities?” I ask in disbelief. Are they kidding?
“Chris does. Cal is the personality that Chris forged. It isn’t the other way around. Cal isn’t real,” Mr. Scott explains. Yeah, I’m really going to believe this. No. No fucking way.
“You can’t possibly expect me to believe this,” I laugh angrily. I look to Mrs. Scott, whose expression scares me, because it holds such a look of sincerity.
“I know this may be hard for you to understand, unbelievable maybe,” Mrs. Scott says warily, fiddling with her hands in her lap.
“Hard to believe? Well… I don’t believe it!” I shout angrily, throwing my arms up.
“You– you’re both lying for him. You’re covering for him!” I reason this is the only possible explanation for this insanity.
“We’re telling you the truth. Chris doesn’t know who you are. He doesn’t know what Cal does,” Mrs. Scott tells me with a pleading expression.
I cover my face with my hands. They’re all crazy or they’re all in on this elaborate joke or lie that Cal has constructed. They can’t expect me to believe this. They can’t be serious; this cannot be happening! I lower my hands and study their faces; they look absolutely serious. I feel the nervous pit in my stomach starting to grow. I shake my head frantically.
“You’re lying. You have to be!” I exclaim. “You’re telling me that Cal has some sort of split personality. That Cal is the person that I know, but your son Chris who I met earlier conveniently has no idea who I am, and he’s the real person,” I say in a cynical tone. I laugh at the outrageousness. “So I married a personality, not a person, a persona” I say as I continue to laugh through my tear-blurred eyes.
“Please, calm down,” Mrs. Scott pleads with me, coming close to me, but I step away from her. This can’t be true, no… it just… NO!
“I want some sort of proof if he has some sort of personality disorder! Doctor's records or statements or something!” I say, my tears being replaced by anger.