Blurred Lines (11 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lauren had no idea how she was going to get through the day. After making a stop at the campus cafe to get a large cafe mocha, mostly because she knew she was going to need the caffeine buzz, Lauren made her way to class and purposely chose a seat in the front row, sandwiched between two younger students who giggled and tittered over their amusing weekend antics.

Monday morning had arrived far too fast after the weekend’s unfortunate events. Numerous texts and calls to Michael went unanswered, leaving her more and more uncertain as to whether or not the conflict between them could be resolved.

The sordid triangle between her, Michael, and Dean, was solely her fault. She was well aware. But, she was surprised at the open-and-shut ending of her marriage. Lauren hadn’t expected him to write her off and kick her out so abruptly. She was not sure what she would have said, but she somehow mourned the thought that Michael had never even asked her
why
.

To make her day worse, Libby didn’t show up to class. Lauren wondered how she expected to graduate from the course when she rarely showed up to attend lectures and receive assignments. While she always seemed to have her assignments handed in on time, Lauren knew it was only because she had either explained it to her by phone or texted her after the instructions were given in class.

If anything
, Lauren thought crossly,
Libby really owes me a world of thanks for keeping her in the game these past five weeks
. Quickly, Lauren regretted her snarky thoughts against Libby, knowing her frustration was only because she had yet to return the multiple text messages she had sent her over the course of the weekend. Lauren wanted someone to talk to about what had happened on Friday night, and when Libby was not there to help her sort through her thoughts, she felt a little lost.

She couldn’t call Nadine, especially after avoiding her texts and calls for the past few weeks. Best friends or not, Lauren wasn’t prepared to admit to her what she had done to the two men. She’d never been able to keep a secret from Nadine, and this was one strand of truth she wasn’t ready to deal with. Lauren’s conscience was at least functioning well enough to know the story would not be well received.

To her surprise, Dean had called throughout the day on Saturday and Sunday. She hadn’t picked up, but he’d left messages. He wanted to talk, sort it all out, he said. While confusion tainted his tone of voice, not even a hint of anger could be heard in any of his messages.

Lauren found his acceptance of their situation to be unbelievable. He knew she was married, knew she had betrayed her husband and him, and knew her husband would talk with his fists rather than his hands if he ever saw Dean’s face again, yet he was unwilling to back away from her. Each message stressed more and more urgently that they needed to talk. They needed to clear the air, and he needed to see her.

Clear the air?
There was no way to fix this, she knew that now. She had cheated and destroyed her marriage in the process.

She glanced up from her seat just as Dean rushed in through the upper back entrance of the lecture theater. Her choice of seating had worked out just as she hoped it would; there were no empty seats anywhere near her. His gaze caught hers and Lauren instantly knew he was aware she had done it on purpose. Class time was the last place she wanted to hash out the details of her weekend love affair gone wrong. Obviously frustrated, he turned away from her and took a seat three rows behind her on the opposite side of the room. Lauren turned back around in her seat and settled in, pulling her notebook and pen from her bag. Her cell vibrated, and she reluctantly glanced at the display.

Please don’t ignore me. Can we talk? Cafe. After class. Please?

Dean was relentless, but she couldn’t blame him after everything that had happened between them. He had a right to demand a conversation from her. It was too late to ignore him now. He could see her from his seat and knew she was reading the text message.

Okay. After class, but not a moment before. See you then.

Lauren shut the ringer off after sending the text and shoved her phone back into her bag. It was time to focus on the reason she had come here. It was time to do what she was good at, seeing as the past few days had revealed that she did not seem to be good at much else.

***

“I never meant for it to happen the way it did, Dean.”

Lauren wrapped her hands around the warmth of the paper cup holding her second coffee of the day. Dean, once again, had insisted on paying, and she had let him. She knew she was getting to a point where she had to pick her battles, and who was going to pay the small fortune for two coffees was not the one she was going to choose.

“I understand that, Sarah.” His gaze snapped up to her. “I mean, Lauren. It is Lauren, right?”

“Yes, I am Lauren. I’m sorry, Dean.”

“For what exactly? Sorry that you pretended to be someone else or sorry that you got caught in your lie?” His eyebrow arched high as he spoke. Anyone else would have sounded ticked off in saying such a thing, but Dean sounded genuinely interested in her answer.

“I never expected to become involved with you the way I did. You have got to believe that. Meeting you here was a surprise.” She took a sip from her coffee, giving her a moment to recollect her thoughts. “I was playing a part. Sarah is a character from the novel I’m writing. I thought if I took on her role, I could gain a new perspective. It seems it backfired quite horribly.”

“Did it though?”

Lauren stared at him, confused. “I’m not following you.”

“Did your role-playing really backfire? Did being Sarah open you up to a new perspective for your writing that you did not have access to before?” He leaned back in his chair and watched Lauren’s reaction. Leave it to a fellow writer to want to know the details on how a situation where he ended up sleeping with someone else’s wife did or did not further a writing project.

Lauren gazed down at her cup. “It did, actually. I wrote more in the time that you and I were together than I had in the months before I came to New York.” She glanced up at him, the weight of revealing her true intentions making her feel lighter. “For a while, I believed you were my muse.”

A half smile crept across the corner of Dean’s mouth. He leaned forward, his stare never wavering. “For a while, I believed you were my Sarah,” he said.

A conflict rose within her. She wanted to touch him, but at the same time she wanted to escape the cafe altogether. “I don’t know how I allowed things to get so messed up,” she said. “I don’t even know what I want right now.”

“I know what I want,” Dean replied, reaching across the table for her hand. Lauren pulled her fingers from his grasp as gently as she could.

“Dean…”

“Fine, you lied, I get that,” he said. “But, Sarah…Lauren…whatever, I don’t care what your name is. You can’t possibly have faked the connection between us. That kind of thing just cannot be pretended.”

“I’m flying back to Texas tomorrow, Dean,” Lauren blurted out. She felt bad for saying it the moment after he had professed his feelings, but she knew there was no use in letting him go on. “I have to forget about this course and focus on trying to fix my marriage.”

“Sarah…”

“I’m not Sarah,” she said again, more exasperated this time.

“But you are still
my
Sarah,” Dean insisted. “You’ll always be Sarah to me.”

The satisfaction that flooded Lauren’s mind and body confused her all the more. She knew she had to go back to Michael and salvage what she could,
if
she could, but she liked the thought of being Dean’s Sarah regardless of who she had originally been when she first came to New York.

“You are being far too nice to me considering what I have put you through, Dean.”

“Like I said earlier, I know what I want.” He met her eyes again as he took her hand, this time holding her fingers in his a bit more tightly. “I want you, no matter what your name is. So, you go ahead and fly back to Texas to try to fix things, but I can already guess how the conversation with your husband went the other night and, if he can’t forgive you, it is his loss, Lauren.” Dean enunciated her name like it was foreign on his lips, and perhaps it was.

“Michael may say there is no hope for us, Dean, but I have to try. Thank you for at least understanding that, because I know you don’t have to.” She gave his hand a tentative squeeze and pulled away.

“Call me, okay? Either way, just let me know what happens, all right?”

His request was unexpected but she nodded in agreement. “A day or two at Carrington Ranch and I might just be needing to hear a friendly voice if things do not go like I hope they do.” She was trying to lighten the conversation, but quickly realized there was no use. It was futile to try to downplay the seriousness of an impending doomed marriage and an awkward friendship with the man whom she had cheated with.

“Carrington Ranch? Is that where you live?”

She had not meant to speak of her home out loud. “It’s the horse ranch my husband and his family own. My last name, actually,” she explained uneasily.

“Lauren Carrington. Nice to finally meet you after, what, six weeks?” His smile flashed brilliantly and Lauren’s uneasiness ebbed slightly. She rolled her eyes at his joke, leaning in once again.

“Stop it. You can call me Sarah.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The flight attendant announcing their approaching landing broke Lauren from her thoughts. She scanned the window beside her for some sign of home, but only clouds could be seen from this altitude. Lauren leaned her head back against the seat. The flight was crowded but surprisingly quiet. Faint rustling about could be heard as people prepared to land, but Lauren stayed where she was. There was no need to rush, things would happen soon enough. Whether or not those things would be good, only time would tell.

Thoughts crowded her mind as she sat unmoving in her seat. She wondered how Michael would react to seeing her. Maybe he’d calmed down a little bit and had a change of heart.

She also wondered why he hadn’t seemed as shocked and appalled at finding her with another man as she would’ve expected. There was a chance he was more docile and forgiving than she had been led to believe, but somehow she felt that was not the case.

It irked her that Michael had shown up in New York without telling her beforehand. It also bothered her that he had shown up exactly when he did. The coincidences were adding up, and Michael’s uncharacteristic behaviors were leading to answers Lauren’s brain could not seem to reach. Then again, she could not really point out someone else’s uncharacteristic behavior after she had just cheated on her husband, the man she loved, without a good reason. Uncharacteristic was definitely an understatement, but she had done it anyway.

When the plane landed, Lauren took her time, allowing other passengers to pass her and get off the plane before she did. She retrieved her carry-on bags from the overhead compartment, then waited patiently for her luggage to appear on the conveyor belt in baggage claim.

She was stalling, and she knew it. Fear crept into her mind as she called for a taxi and waited. What would happen if Michael had not changed his mind? If he truly wanted her gone, with no chance of resolving this mess, what could she do? And where would she go? She tried desperately to clear her mind of such thoughts, but it was futile. She wanted to fix her relationship with Michael, but the more she sat idle with no company but her own thoughts, the more she knew she couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him if he was prepared to move on without her.

The cab driver graciously helped her haul her bags into the trunk of the cab. She did not attempt to create small talk with him as she rode in silence toward Carrington Ranch.

Another twenty minutes of time alone with my thoughts is the last thing I need right now
. Reflecting on the events of the last few days was giving her fewer answers than she had hoped for.

When the cab pulled into the laneway leading up to her and Michael’s house, Lauren was staring aimlessly out the window, completely oblivious that she had reached her destination. The accented voice of the cab driver startled her but pulled her from her own thoughts. It was then that she noticed the silver four-door sedan parked in the driveway beside Michael’s black crew cab Ford truck. Lauren did not recognize the vehicle and immediately cursed her luck. What a time to have company, whether it was business or personal. She was here hoping to reconstruct the pieces of her shattered marriage, and now she was going to have to face Michael while an audience looked on.

With a deep breath, Lauren watched the cab drive away. She was left with only her bags and the looming house before her. She pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket and turned it on. She had forgotten to do so following her flight, and she was glad. Immediately, she was bombarded with numerous text messages and missed calls from Nadine and Dean. Sadness washed over her when she did not see any messages from Michael.

She cast a glance up at the front door and then, holding her breath momentarily, made her way up the front steps. She stopped, suddenly unsure whether she should walk in, ring the door bell, or knock. It was her house, after all. It no longer felt that way, but her first inclination had been to walk in, so she did.

There was a split second in which Lauren was elated to see her. A fraction of a second later, however, her mind registered what she was seeing and she realized she should not want to see her at all. Everything was suddenly so out of context that she did not comprehend her surroundings.

Michael was covering the body of another woman with his own on the living room couch. And that woman was much too familiar to Lauren.

“Hello, Sarah.” Libby greeted her with a sly smile.