Darien was lying on his bed, absently staring at the ceiling, looking at, but not seeing what was there. It was the kind of look one gave when their mind was preoccupied by their thoughts. And he had a right to be, for earlier in the day, he and his soon-to-be wife had a falling-out…over something he did. Or more importantly, what he didn’t do. Because, cursing himself, he should have taken his cell-phone with him into the barbershop, even if it was going to be only a second or two. Because of that simple mistake, his world came crashing down around him, for his girlfriend had taken the opportunity to check his cell-phone, and what she found there was a message that was very telling.Why she checked it, he didn’t know. Maybe it was her insecurity, or maybe it was because he had great potential for cheating, as she felt, for there were occasions in the past when he betrayed her trust…on two separate occasions to be exact.Yes, he conditioned her that way, so ultimately, wasn’t it his fault, even if he didn’t have control over how she felt?

As was previously mentioned, the day had been going well, but, up until the very evening, things turned around.When he came out of the barbershop, his girlfriend had his cell-phone in her hand, and as hard as he tried to get it from her, she somehow managed to evade him, clutching onto it like it was her lifeline.When one is determined to prove something, gripped by their feelings, or caught in the moment of conviction and spontaneity, they oftentimes disregard all rational thought, and it isn’t until hindsight that logic and knowledge is gained. Such was the case here, the phone in her hand and to her ear. The look of fear that flashed over Darien’s face was priceless. He already knew he had the great possibility of being caught.She was nodding her head, saying, “You know Marcus, huh?”

The woman had told her that she did, Lauren having shot Darien a heated look…a look of anger.

He had used a different name when talking to the girl he had met at the mall one day, probably to save his identity and maintain a world separate from the world “at home”. She snapped the cell-phone shut and had begun going through his phone.There was so much deception in that phone, it was a liar’s tool, for names that were disguised as his guy-friends’ were actually those of girls he had randomly met at various spots and social locales.Ultimately, when things got to an apex, his girlfriend, Lauren, went to the trunk and snatched up a skinny metal bat and banged the trunk of the car.It dented it, and Marcus had yelled out, “Eh, what are you doing?! You’re scaring the baby!”

Mind you, the ‘baby’ wasn’t exactly a baby, but in this case, the child could be considered so, for all children would respond the same in such a situation – well, most of them.

Kimmy, sitting in the backseat of the car in a car seat, all of 3 years old, was crying, panicked and startled beyond belief, the two most important people in her small, small world, arguing with each other...one, her mom, propelled to such a degree of anger that it blocked all reasonable thought from her mind, and the other, her dad, who was inclined to break the woman’s wrist to get that phone away from her, but decided not to because of possible jail-time. He yelled to her fiercely, “Be quiet before someone calls the cops on us!”

Lauren had hopped into the car right after, phone with her, and had immediately driven off, leaving Darien standing at the barbershop. Luckily for him, he lived not too far from there, walking-distance away – except he had run to his house, utterly, absolutely ran, banging on the door and hustling in as soon as his mom opened the door. He was winded, (obviously out of shape), bent, hands on both his knees as he tried to catch his breath. His mother had asked, “What’s wrong?!”

Darien had told her everything that had happened, and told her how Lauren had jumped into the car, HIS car, with Kimmy and his phone, and driven off. To where, he couldn’t exactly figure out. But then, it had clicked in his head. She was going to their house, where his truck was! He knew that’s where she had to be going because she had told him, “Oh, if you think this is something,” (referring to the dent), “then you wait until you see what I do to your truck!” And that’s when she had gotten in the car and sped off. Yes, Darien was panicked, his face slick with sweat, and panting between trying to talk. He thought about her going through the file cabinet of his phone and reading all the old messages, about her calling all those numbers and confronting all those girls, about the evidence which would have surely convicted him in her eyes.

Right after explaining everything, and luckily for him his brother stayed at home, he had asked him if he could drive him down to their house, which was another city, Arbor Brook, which was about 30 minutes away, 15 if you put the pedal to the floor, on the interstate. And that’s what he had done, using up his brother’s minutes and gas simultaneously, repeatedly calling around for her, dialing up his friend’s number, her number, her friend’s number, trying to find her location.And when he had found her location, she didn’t pick up, didn’t answer.And when she did finally pick up, it was a back-and-forth thing, except, on her end, there was a certain begrudging wall built up, a certain disconnect. As the evening had wound down, he had his brother drive him back to their mother’s house, and that’s where he was now…

Yes, it was 10:30 p.m., now more night than evening, and he wasn’t doing anything except thinking. His mind was spinning faster than the ceiling-fan above him. He sighed, thinking to himself about how he should best approach her, how he should plead his case. He was at a loss, debating on whether or not to call her or not, debating on whether or not to let her cool off or give it one last go.He really didn’t know what to do. His arms were behind his head, and his eyes were closed, trying to fight back the dull ache that had begun to bloom, the not-too-distant reaches of a headache. He didn’t have an appetite either.

He kept saying aloud to himself, “Why didn’t I take my phone? WHY?”

He wasn’t understanding, getting, that even if she did take his phone, he still was not exactly faithful or exactly faultless.He wasn’t getting that he was wrong. But sometimes people were thoughtless like that, when it came to themselves – especially regarding relationships. And the two were supposed to be getting married in the next week.They were going to go to the mall to get wedding rings as soon as they had left the barbershop, but that hadn’t ended so well.

Darien shook his head and silently prayed out loud, “God help me.”

Strange how people get religious and devout in times of need and peril.It was almost a form of “usery”, not talking to, associating with, or even speaking to someone until you needed something from them, until you were in a desperate situation and needed money for bail, or a ride to the job. It was the same concept, except on a grander scale. Wasn’t it? Mm, so he prayed, with his eyes open (as if that would give him direct connection with God), and then, immediately after, he closed them again, immersing himself in a softer bed of sleep. How ironic it was, how spiteful and sadistic the universe seemed sometimes when people thought about things, for he had made his proverbial bed, and was now lying in it.

**(Co-Author's Chapter [2]: Heather)**

The beams of morning sunlight streamed in between the thin slants of the cheap, but well-maintained blinds. With his circadian rhythm in its usual state of humane precision, Darien peeked an eye open. Despite it being a Saturday, his body paid no regard to the fact. His internal clock always woke him up at or around eight o’clock every morning. Most of the time, he didn’t mind. With thoughts of the prior day plaguing his mind, he could think nothing that he would cherish more than a few extra hours of the null comfort sleep provided.

It was like the weight of the world settled on his shoulders when he opened his eyes fully and tried to sit up in bed. He ignored the heavy feeling with a desperate push out of bed. On Saturdays, Lauren liked to make pancakes and take Kimmy to the park. He wondered if she would still go without him.

The chances of that were slim. He could almost picture her morning, smell the scent of faded lavender perfume she had worn the night before. She had probably woken up at around seven - Kimmy was good for that, and he had a suspicion the 7:30 airing of Barney had something to do with it. Lauren had probably given her a simple breakfast of cereal and with a faceted smile sent the girl off to play. And now?

Now she was probably crying, telling her sister of my infidelities, a nagging voice inside of him said. All because he had forgotten his damn phone. If he had just grabbed it before he’d walked out of the door, none of this would have ever happened. He’d be sitting at the park, drinking a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee with Lauren, watching Kimmy in the sandbox.

Still sitting up in bed, he put his head in his hands, feeling the faint thrum of a headache that loomed dangerously near. Lauren would probably never forgive him. His sweet Lauren, the girl who he’d taken to her senior Prom, the girl he had been with for practically ever… He was such a fool to have played the game so loosely - she wasn’t worth losing, why had he been so careless? How had he let this damn thing get so far?

Darien had never been a ladies’ man in high school. The day he met Lauren, he would have never thought that the cute, sweet Irish girl from a farm somewhere in the middle of nowhere would *ever* be drawn to a lanky, scrub of a black man like he was. Back then, he had been tall and big-limbed, as if he hadn’t quite grown together at the same rate. But she had smiled at him with her innocent eyes, pretended to be interested in baseball, and it had all fallen together after that -- he had grown to love her, even if initially, his interest had stemmed from a lack of other options.

At first, he had no problem remaining faithful. It was around the time he got his first good job that things started turning. A few years had passed, and he had grown into his gangly frame, worked out a bit to fill himself out. He had started off as a free-lance photographer, but had ended up landing a steady gig taking pictures for the newspaper. It was a well-paying career, needless to say. It had let him trade in his worn-out Adidas sweats for a few well-tailored suits and nice jeans.

What happens when you combine nice clothes, adequate looks, and a big wallet? A ladies’ man.

And he had been careless. The very first time he had come home late from the office with a lipstick smear on his collar, Lauren had noticed, drawn to it like she’d known before he’d even got there. Lauren had been a newborn at the time. That was probably why she stayed with him. He had watched her cry and had forgiven him, and he had vowed never to make another careless mistake. The careless mistake, of course, was not the act of infidelity. It was his foolish slip-up at having been caught. Darien had always been too caught in things to ever consider it from another perspective.

This wasn’t supposed to happen! He slammed his fists on the bed in aggravation. He had been so thorough with the others that had followed….

After his job at the newspaper, he’d opened up his own photo shop. It had been a hit. With more money came more women, and with his own business, he had plenty of excuses to avoid home. Plenty of alibis that he had always used. And every single one of them had worked.

The second time she caught him had been with his own secretary, and it was carelessness that had got him caught that time, as well. He had stayed late at the office. So had Maurine. That time, they had fornicated on the desk in his office. It had been the biggest thrill of his life. Until he got caught. Maurine told Lauren everything. He had watched her cry and torture herself over why he could do such a thing, but had forgiven him. Kimmy had been one, one and a half. She had probably stayed for the sake of the kid. Even so, Darien had learned one thing - he had to be careful. Careless mistakes would only hurt Lauren.

Like now. Another careless mistake, and he didn’t know if Lauren could ever forgive him for this one. Kimmy was three, and Lauren had a good job - she could manage on her own, now.

It wasn’t fair. Yes, he had been untrue a lot. But! Despite the temptations, he had gone a solid six months without so much as a touch. He had managed to withstand the lure of cheating by a simple trick. Flirt with a woman, get her number, store it in his phone book. It was enough to placate him somewhat…

Until he’d seen Monica.

Monica was fresh and young and beautiful. He had met her at the book store in the mall, where he had actually been to pick up a present for his schoolteacher girlfriend. Monica had explained to him, in a mountain of books, that she was working there to pay for college. She was a first year, with intentions of becoming an interior designer. She had a light-spirited view of the world that had made him almost dizzy with giddiness when he met her… She had asked him to go for coffee, and he’d been unable to refuse.

That had been three months ago, and it had been the beginning of a whole set of lies for Darien. Her youthful innocence and optimistism drew him too strongly. He had told Monica that his name was Marcus, and no, he wasn’t with anybody. No, he didn’t have kids. A bachelor working at his photo shop, that’s as simply as he’d put it. It had been the beginning of a relationship that actually had meant a great deal to Monica, in retrospect, but had been a mere thrill to him. Even now, thinking of how she was probably taken aback -- he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride. He had managed to concoct an entire identity for himself, and had stuck with it impressively. Of course, the jig was up now. No more Monica. Even she wasn’t worth losing Lauren.

But despite it all, he was not thinking, “If I had never met Monica…”

He scowled, rising out ofbed, heading for the bedroom door.Damn it! How could I have forgotten my phone…

**(My Chapter [3] )**

When he walked into his room he slipped into a pair of sweats, threw on a wife-beater and slid into a pair of bedroom shoes. His college days as a former athlete could be seen in the mannerisms of him getting dressed, seen in his adroitness and quickness and smoothness in which he prepared for the day. He hadn’t even taken a shower, but he didn’t really care.Nothing really mattered right now.Nothing.Except him and his problems. Everyone in his mother’s house was still asleep, so when he heard the phone ring, his heart caught in his chest. He had began to wonderwho was calling so early in the morning. Was it somebody from the office?His old high-school buddies? Lauren?? He picked up the phone and answered, “Hello?”

On the other end of the line, his homeboy, his long-time friend, Kevin, spoke, “Wut’s up man? We hanging out today like we said? Or you can’t?

Darien didn’t know what to say. He didn’t feel up to telling him about his problems, which is why Kevin didn’t know in the first place, but he also didn’t feel like faking like he was enjoying himself if they did decide to hang out. No, he had other things to do. More important things. And so he said, “Nah, not today.Um sorry.Somethin’ came up.”

If he couldn’t be honest with one of his best friends, then who could he be honest with? Kevin answered, crestfallen, “All right. I understand. Well, hit me up if you wanna do something later on, then. Or when you get time. Talk to ya later.”

Click. Just like that. And Darien breathed a sigh of relief right after. He hung the phone back up, and walked out the door. He had stopped at the local 711 and picked up a coffee and donut, enjoying the quiet time as he sat on the curb in front of the store, reading a newspaper. Odd place to be, right? Didn’t they have any benches around, or something worthwhile to sit on? Not really, so he made do with what he had, glad to take himself away from his own world, and read about how horrible others’ lives were. Because wasn’t that what news was today? Or so that’s what it seemed like. Sad, really, but life is like that.

It wasn’t before long that he was back in the house, really not knowing what to do with himself. He had said out loud, “I’m going to see Lauren.”

He really did go see her, and it wasn’t long before they had gotten things off their chest, tried to break the ice that had shielded them from each other. He didn’t know if it was productive or not, but at least they had gotten things out in the air, out in the open, things that needed to be heard whether they wanted to or not. Because when one took off the blinders and really looked at things, inspected it, and actually saw things for how they were, they would see that everything wasn’t all roses. No, for every relationship has its problems. And they weren’t exempt. But a lot of things could be done away with or resolved if only they would just talk. And so that’s what they had done.

Yes, he had gone back home, and it was now 12:45 p.m., and he was walking up to his office, entering his very own building, a building that he had bought and paid for out of his own money, one that was a very modern glass structure, almost artistic in nature, the kind of art where people use materials and set them in a certain way, to create art.And so he walked up to the building and entered it, the roomy insides smelling of newly-shined floors.The receptionist was sitting at the desk filing her nails, the phone ringing, leaving it completely unanswered.She did not even fidget to pick it up, and that set Darien off enough to yell out, “Shari! The phone!”

Startled, she jumped and picked up the phone, or tried to, jumbling it, the phone falling to the floor, dangling from the cord, before she swooped it up by hooking her finger around the wire, bringing it to her, answering in a shaky voice, “News Media Studios…”

He was satisfied enough to continue on to his office, walking down the hall offering nods to the people posted at their stations, and behind those dark brown eyes, eyes that appeared black when not lighted, was a smoldering look of ire.Walking past him was one of his best employees, Riley Walker, Jr., who had such a sunny dispositionand went above-and-beyond when it came to carrying out his duties. Just before they passed each other, Riley cheerfully greeted him, “Hey, Darien!”

Darien grunted and simply said, almost snappily, “That’s Mr. Spelling to you.”

And that was his answer in return, greeting him with a quiet reprimand instead of a truly friendly salutation. Because Darien was lax enough that his workers didn’t have to be formal with him.But not today. Riley continued walking, glancing back at the figure that was now retreating, “Wow, what’s HIS problem?”, muttering quietly to himself.

Darien continued on to his office, thinking, I wonder what she has told her parents.They don’t like me anyway because we’re a ‘mixed-up’ couple. They always were racist. He sneers at the thought. That had led him to something else his very own mother had said. Now y’all got a half-breed daughter…

That second thought sent him into a fit that had him punching the door as he opened it.“DAMNIT!”

People and their darn racism! They had always made it hard for Lauren and him, ALWAYS, and they would take it and run with this opportunity to totally mess up their soon-to-be-marriage which was only 6 days away now. He dreaded the thought of what would happen that day. Shaking his head, he sat down at his desk and kicked up his feet, crossing them at the ankles, resting his head against the wall. He closed his eyes and let everything drift away – momentarily, then came to, back to his very vivid, yet harsh reality. He had so much work to do, a mile-high stack of papers sitting on his desk, pictures tacked to the bulletin board in the room, his trashcan overflowing.He was here for no reason, really. Except maybe to just get away from home. Because when a man’s home-life was messed up, it messed up all other areas of his life.

After a long-day’s work, or lack thereof, rather, he shuffled into the house, tired and beat, walking past both Lauren and Kimmy, who were both eating dinner.It wasn’t until he had settled in and taken off his office work-clothes that he doubled back and spoke to them, anticlimactically, “ Hey, guys.”

Kimmy had grown excited, and yelled out, “DADDY!”

He had nuzzled his nose against hers, patting her on the head before he turned and looked at Lauren. “How are you tonight?You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine; thanks.”

She had said it coldly, her face blank.

He shook his head and went back into the room and sat down. After a few minutes, he had lain down, on his side.

It was 11:30 p.m. now and Lauren had just now made her way into the room, Kimmy asleep and the house all cleaned up and everything. She sat on the bed, and by this time, Darien was already awake, having just woken up 10 minutes ago. Lauren didn’t say anything to him, and he didn’t say anything to Lauren. And as Lauren got into bed, she said in a voice hewn of ice, “Monica called before you got home.She said she wanted to talk to you.”

He didn’t even know how to respond to that because he hadn’t even talked to Monica ever since that incident, which was all of a whole day and half. But still. It was absurd and the timing couldn’t have been anymore off.Darien always did have bad timing. He sighed, shaking his head, asking, “What didju say?”

Lauren answered simply, “I told her to not call here anymore.”

He had pictured another scenario in his head.Oh, she probably did tell her that, but it wasn’t so diplomatic or prim and proper. He was pretty sure there was much cussing, much yelling and tempers. Lauren was emotional, and territorial, as most women were, especially when it came to their men, and especially when those women had children with those men. Yeah, he knew how that went, but he didn’t even ask anymore about it after that. He merely shook his head, both their backs to each other, as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Lauren on he other hand was lying down, but she was wide awake. She was staring at the wall before her, quietly muttering something to herself, before a single tear rolled down the side of her face, it rolling down her cheek before disappearing into nonexistence. She had shed a single tear, and it was gone. Just like that. Dried by the very air. Her eyelashes were still wet though, and as she closed her eyes to join Darien in the Land of Nod, her lashes were stuck together, spiky and dewy. A tiny drop of that shed tear was sitting atop one of her lashes, that wet body glistened in the soft light of their room. It…looked like a shrunken crystal ball, so clear and so round. Strange how that description is used, for if they could only see into their future, maybe they would be so much happier. Or would they be sadder? Only time would tell as the two slept on, the day now viewed and looked at through the drop that rested on her lash, before that teardrop surrendered itself and dribbled down her face, following the steps of the one before it.It was soon gone, just like trust. Just like loyalty. But, like them, would it ever return?…Only time would tell…

**(Co-Author's Chapter [4]: Heather)**

Darien was awake when Lauren woke up, but rolled away on his side of the bed, he pretended to still be asleep. It wasn’t until several minutes after he heard her click on the shower in the bathroom that he ventured out of the room…

“Daddy!” Kimmy squeaked. The small girl was a delightful sight, and Darien couldn’t help but smile. So much of Lauren, with a little of himself - together, it had been just the right mix. She had a smooth, caramel complexion that would never leave her wanting to tan, with his dark eyes and Lauren’s smile. Of course, he had seen that face transform many times…she also had Lauren’s temper. “Mommy said you were still sleepy. Bweakfast?” she pleaded, her face slowly rising from it’s sleepy expression.

The familiar habit would at least console him, and he nodded with a small smile at his daughter, grateful that she wasn’t in a cranky mood. He turned to sift through the cabinets, surprised to find practically nothing.

“I didn’t go grocery shopping,” he heard stiffly from the doorway. Lauren leaned against its frame, a hand softly atop her daughter’s head. Her wet hair was slicked back into a pony tail, her face plain but pretty with the lack of make-up.

He was surprised to see her done so quickly, but shouldn’t have been. One of the things he loved about Lauren was the fact that she didn’t often stress over frivolous details. She was confident enough in her appearance, or so he thought. “Oh,” he responded, though didn’t dare ask why.

“Pancakes! Pancakes!” Kimmy yelled, over and over again, delightedly. It had been one of the first words she’d gotten accustomed to, and had also quickly become her favorite food. “Mommy forgot!”

He knew the girl was talking about the other day, and made his best to amend with the only thing he knew: his money.

“Let’s go out to breakfast. I can go into the office late,” he coaxed, his tone laced with sugar. He gave Lauren a pleading stare.

“No,” she replied curtly, not meeting his eyes. Something in her had changed, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. But she hadn’t kicked him out yet. At least that was a good sign.

Kimmy started to whine. “MOM! Pancakes!” Lauren tried to calm her, but the attempts were rather unsuccessful.

Eventually, they both had to cave in, just to spare the headache.

“Fine, pancakes,” Lauren mumbled, heading to grab her daughter’s coat and shoes.

Monica stood before the order booth of the small coffee house, her eyes bleakly scanning the menu. There were a million different names for a million different things. What if she just wanted a cup of hot coffee, for once? Black. Strong. No shot of vanilla mocha whatnot…

“Today, Moni, the soccer mom behind me is starting to have withdrawals,” she heard from beside her with a snicker. Aforementioned soccer mom gave an insulted scoff. Monica cast a glance to the petite Hispanic girl beside her. Juanita was easily one of the most gorgeous girls she’d ever seen, with opulent tresses of ebony and exotic features, but she certainly had no tact in the least. At first, Juanita’s bluntness had set her aback, but now she truly appreciated the girl’s unique nature.

“I’ll take anything with a shot of espresso,” Monica said apologetically to the acne-ridden teen in front of her. She thought about suggesting an over-the-counter product she herself was familiar with, but refrained. Maybe if she had been Juanita…

Stepping aside with her friend, Monica took a moment to smooth down the fabric of her pale yellow dress, a garment accompanied by a red wrap and a pair of clunky boots. Despite the modest and contrasting attire, it flattered her shape nice. Perhaps that was why she and Juanita got along so well - Juanita with her unique sense of speaking, and Monica with her rather unique sense of dress.

After Monica tucked a crinkly single into the tip bucket and accepted her overpriced brew, the two took a seat at a small table in the corner. It was their usual. The homely shop was right next to campus, and the two girls often dwelt there. It also had a smoking section, which was a big plus for the two.

Juanita shuffled through her bag, nearly knocking over her coffee. After a minor struggle, she triumphantly held up a pack of misty 100’s. “So, chick…” she drawled, plucking two from the pack and offering one to her companion, “you’re pretty out if it.” Juanita had such an eloquent way of stating the obvious… “Hey, you got a light?” she added, tucking the pack securely back into her purse.

Brushing aside stray strands of curly brown hair, Monica nodded dully. She produced a book of matches from her pocket and lit her own cigarette, first, before offering the matchbook to her roommate. After a moment of hesitation and a puff of her cigarette, Monica responded. “He hasn’t called me at all.”

Juanita sneered, nearly snorting out mocha chino in the process. “The scum bag with the preppy name? Darwin? I told you not to bother a thought on that… that…” For lack of an obscene enough term, she frowned. “He played you, Moni. He’s nothing but a scum bag.”

“Darien,” Monica replied with a wince, a correction she could barely believe she had to make, even now. Marcus…Darien…whoever he was, had done a damn good job pulling the wool over he eyes. She had grown genuine affections for him, had practically been in love. But as usual…Too perfect. Something had to be wrong. She had been a fool to believe otherwise. “His name is Darien. And I … deserved something,” she said weakly.

“Monica? He had a fiancée and a kid. He‘s filth. You don‘t even need to hear his bullshit excuse.” Juanita stared at her blankly, and she winced. Yea, some very angry white girl who had called her a dirty pig whore and some other choice things… But could she blame her? She was a home wrecker! But it hadn’t been on purpose, damnit! He had told her he cared about her, had acted as if he really wanted a relationship!

When she thought about it, though, it made some sense. They had gone out often to the theatre, but wasn’t it dark? The restaurants they frequented were usually in a different city - Marcus/Darien had claimed that they were “better than anything in town.” And it explained why she never saw him on the weekends… he had no excuse to give his fiancée.

With a bleak expression, Monica paid all her attention to the steaming cup of liquid before her, taking an absentminded puff off of her cigarette. A long, neglected piece of ash hung loosely at the edge and ended up falling on the table. “Yea,” she whispered, the best response she could happen to muster.

She was hurt. Monica was young and admittedly rather naïve. While her pain was a mere echo of Lauren’s, she had truly had her heartbroken. She had trusted that man, had given herself to him in every way a woman could, and had seriously been able to envision a future together. Now, she was left with nothing but the shocking reality that it had all been lies. It was perhaps a bit selfish for her to feel so badly for herself and not even consider the woman who had mothered his child and been with him for quite some time…on the phone, she had heard the grief just as clearly as the anger. But Monica was young, and she was foolish. Her silver-lined optimism had been tainted, and it had left her feelingbitter.

She would probably never talk to Darien again, never see him. His other woman had made it quite clear that she shouldn’t ever try to call again, and she didn’t think it was a good idea, either, as much as she wanted answers.

“Listen, girl. You’re young, pretty, and you’re going to be designer brand someday, okay? You don’t need a guy like that. He’s going to get wrinkles in five years anyway!” Juanita emphasized, stubbing out her cigarette.

Monica feigned a chuckle. It was true that she could easily find another man - she was young and definitely not bad looking, and she was in college! Even if she didn’t feel like it just yet… someday, maybe. She couldn’t let this setback ruin her.

And if she ever saw that bastard again? Well, technically, she’d never met *Darien*… an acknowledgment wouldn’t be necessary. She had to save what was left of her pride.At least…she would have to try.

“Let’s go out tonight, Juanita. I feel like breaking a couple of hearts tonight,” she said sweetly. Her classmate grinned in approval, nodding her head.

“Come on,“ Juanita murmured, tugging at her arm. “Shopping, first. It’ll be good for the soul. And we have to get something to eat. I‘m absolutely famished.”

“Some pancakes sound great right now,” Monica mused. “With chocolate chips and whip cream, maybe some strawberries…comfort food,” she sighed.

**(My Chapter [5])**

They took a trip to the grocery store, to the Kroger not too far away.That was their chosen place to shop; they didn’t shop anywhere else, for the most part, when it came to groceries. It was just like that.When they finally arrived, they parked the car and had begun to walk in. Darien had pulled up the collar on his coat to shield his neck from the chill air, making sure Kimmy was all wrapped up and wearing her cute little pink hat.She loved pink for some reason. Didn’t all girls love pink?

They were finally in line, with a cart full of groceries. The cashier didn’t even greet them, didn’t even make eye contact.What kind of customer service is this?thought Darien. The cashier said matter-of-factly, in a monotone, almost bored way, “$185.”

He immediately went into his pockets…and found nothing! He had patted his pants, his pockets, on the outside, as if that would somehow make his ATM card or cash appear.Why did people do that? Probably wishful thinking, a floundering hope.

Darien said out loud to the cashier, “I…don’t have any money on me.And I left my card at home. DANG! Um sorry, but you may have to put this back.”

The cashier made a face that was mildly disgusted. Wasn’t like he had to put it back though. He must have had a bad attitude.

Lauren stepped in, reaching in her purse, saying hotly, exasperated and annoyed, “Never mind, I got it.”

She pulled out the white envelope that you get from the bank when the teller puts cash in it. She pulled out 2 $100 bills and gave it to the cashier. The cashier took it and did whatever he did to get it to go through, giving the change back to her, a total of $15.She took it and put the rest back in the envelope, slipping it into her purse again. Zipping it up, she stepped back past Darien and got a hold of the cart and started walking out the store, to the car. She didn’t say a word and had left Darien standing there. It wasn’t long before he had followed her out and hopped back into the driver’s seat after they had loaded up the stuff into their van. It wasn’t fancy and it wasn’t really a man’s dream car, but he had bought it for the family, something for them first. No, he didn’t yet have the car that he wanted for himself. That was mostly for Lauren; she was a very simple girl who had a very simple family background, when it came to the material world. He had opened her up to life, given her experiences, shown her a life different from the farm one back home in Idaho. No, she was in Virginia now, and though they had farms, they also had a nice city-life.

On the way home, they were driving in silence before Darien said to her, “Thank you for what you did back there. I’ll give you the money when we get home.”

Lauren merely responded, “I didn’t particularly do it for you, just to let you know.We need groceries don’t we? Keep your money, I got it. Toldju that back in the store, if you forgot.”

Darien blinked, dumbfounded, before he started again, “But-----”

He left his sentence hanging, sighing in resignation, before he said, “You know, we can’t keep going on like this. I know what I did was wrong, but I apologized for it, and have done everything I can to make up for it. Don’t hold it against me forever, okay?”

Lauren answered, “You know, everything isn’t about you. I have a life outside of the one I have with you. Other things are going on that have me a little bit upset, okay?”

Darien went silent for a moment before he asked quietly, “What is it?”

Lauren calmly replied, though in a shaky voice, “I just earlier this morning from Zack,” (her brother), “that Mom has breast cancer.And it’s in the 2nd stage. She’s had it about 6 months and never told anyone. And also, if that’s not good enough, my job is laying people off for some reason. I guess we’re not meeting our quotas or something. That’s the lame excuse they gave me.”

Darien heard the second part, and didn’t even give mention the first, saying, “Okay, that doesn’t have anything to do with you, though. You still gotchours.”

There was such a long stretch of silence, before she turned to look at him, water in her eyes, “No. No, I don’t still have mine. I was laid off this morning. They told me no to come in.You probably thought I was off today, but I was supposed to be in at 7:30 a.m., but luckily for me,” (sarcasm), “I checked the voice-mail, and whoop-dee-doo, guess what it said? Basically, to stay in bed and stay home, I no longer have a job. So no, I don’t have a job anymore Darien, okay?”

Hmm, how smart of her to relay such a fact, yet still shell out practically 200 bucks to pay for groceries.

Now at a red light, Darien shot her a consoling glance, “I am sorry…for both your mom and the job.Don’t worry, we’ll find you another one.”

Lauren was leaned over to the side, head nestled into her shoulder, mumbling, “I hope so…”

Hope was very much needed, especially in times like these, at the most awful, most awkward of times.The wedding was 5 days away, and everything seemed to have gone downhill.Everything.

Back home, Lauren’s mother, Edna was in the bed, lying on her back, face slick with sweat, her once-thick red hair now a very stringy, very pale straw-colored golden-orange.Like hay dyed with orange Gatorade. Her husband was beside her, mopping her forehead with a rag before he laid the warm, wet washcloth over top of it. Her breathing was harsh, ragged, and she seemed so out of it, her eyes dim and scanning back and forth. Roger felt completely flustered, face twisted with panic and a great amount of discomfort. He leaned down and said quietly, “Hold on Edna. I’ll be right back, okay honey?”

He got up and hurried out of the room, and to the phone in the kitchen, picking it up and dialing 9-1-1. He said on the phone, in a voice that threatened to all apart at any moment, “I need help here quick.Please send an ambulance to 54th Green Acre Landing, please.”

They reassured him that someone would be there as soon as possible, and he had dumbly nodded his head. Fingers shaking, he somehow managed to dial Lauren but no one was answering.It rung about 10 times and still no one picked up. He tried back in about 5 minutes, and still no avail; he instead decided to leave a message on the voicemail, “Lauren, baby, Mama’s not doing well, honey. Please, when you get this message, call me at home.I may not answer because I probably won’t be here.I just called for an ambulance. Please, please, call me back as soon as you can.Hopefully everything checks out okay….”

His voice was choked, swollen with distress. Then, he scrambled back to the room…

Having unloaded the groceries and everything, Darien was cooking the pancakes for the delighted Kimmy. Lauren said aloud, “I’ll be back, I’m gonna go check the messages, see who called.” She looked at Kimmy, smiling, saying excitedly, “My big girl’s ready to eat, huh!?”

Kimmy nodded, eyes going wide, spilling, “Yun-huh!”

Lauren headed towards the bedroom, where one of the phones were, dialing up the voicemailbox. The automated lady on the machine said, 1st Message: ‘ey Marcus – Darien – this is Monica. Please, when you get this message call me back as soon as you can. I just wanna have a talk with you. I think we just need to clear some things up.I miss you.Ta----BEEP! Message erased. 2nd Message: ‘Lauren, baby, Mama’s not doing well, honey. Please, when you get this message, call me at home. I may not answer because I probably won’t be here. I just called for an ambulance. Please, please, call me back as soon as you can.Hopefully everything checks out okay…’BEEP! Message saved…for…thir-ty days. There are no more messages in your mailbox. To review your messages again, press 1.

Lauren had hung the phone in silence, stunned into it, before walking back out into the kitchen and standing there before she fully entered it, looking at Darien and Kimmy as they ate breakfast. She stood there for a little longer before Darien got up and pulled the chair out, waving his hand toward it, saying, “Join us for breakfast?”

Lauren walked in his general direction, before she closed the space and somehow walked right into arms that somehow weren’t even open. Kimmy was looking at them, clapping her hands, all sticky with syrup, “Yayyy!” Darien was taken aback, blinking, stupefied. What’s this for? Darien’s back turned to Kimmy, Lauren broke down, her body shaking with each cry that she silently cried, the muffled sound of her grief only allowing Darien to hear it, her face buried in his chest. And for about a minute they stood there. Kimmy looked on with happiness, totally unknowing of what was really going on. Oh, how it was wonderful to live in a child’s world. To Kimmy, they were all one big happy family.To Kimmy, everything was just fine.Just…fine.

**(Co-Author's Chapter [6]: Heather)**

Ednawas dying, and she knew it, didn’t have a single doubt about it in her worn state of mind. They say when you are about to die, you see your entire life in a flash back.

But Edna didn’t do that. Sure, she thought about her baby girl Lauren, her lost son that she’d soon be joining, the husband she was going to leave behind…but in her last few moments, dwelling on the past was not what came across her mind.

Rather, she was thinking of all the things she wished she could do and have right now - and number one on that list was to drink a chocolate milkshake. In the dim, fluorescent-lit room, clad in a cheap gown and lying beneath a cotton bedspread of white… she craved nothing more but a thick chocolate milkshake, with the works. Whip cream. A big cherry on top…

Her toes were numb. The vague thought crawled into her mind, and she felt a light pressure on her hand that made her uncomfortable, but it didn’t matter. The numbness was okay. It wasn’t warm, but it was enveloping, and she could either succumb to it or fight it…but she was tired of the aches. The numb sensation was welcoming.

And so, she passed on, with the vague, bittersweet after taste of dark chocolate on her tongue, hand held tightly in the grip of her husband‘s.

Could it all be that simple? Nobody knows until it is their time. Staring down at his wife’s face, Roger felt her slackened grip and knew she had passed. It had been an eternity within a moment for him. He gave her a last squeeze, a light kiss, and turned to make a phone call, shaking.

After Lauren had explained what happened to her mother, Darien had told her to relax for a while. It wasn’t just that he was trying to be nice, but he was feeling particularly edgy. He didn’t need to cause any more trouble, especially now.

Kimmy was not a hassle. As long as she had some cookies and her favorite baby doll, she would be okay.

He was content enough with a bottle of coke and a sandwich for dinner. It was around this time that the phone rang. “Hello?” Darien picked it up with only a vague irritation in his voice, it being smothered beneath the bite of ham sandwich he’d taken.

“Darien.” The voice was choked, unhappy. “Roger?” He blinked in a deliberate motion, taking another bite of his sandwich with much less relish than usual. “Lauren’s been waiting for you to call. What’s going on?”

“She…struggled all afternoon,” came Roger’s reply. “Passed on, Darien. A couple of minutes ago.” His voice was tired. “I have so many phone calls to make, Darien. Please tell Lauren that she went peacefully. I need to call Aunt Barbara and Uncle Ross.. And… “ he trailed off. “Tell Lauren I will call her back later.” And then the call ended.

Wanted: 2nd grade music teacher. Friendly face with experience. 22,000 yearly salary. Contact 312-453-4567

Trying to escape the nagging thoughts of what was happening a thousand miles away, Lauren squirmed on the bed. She wanted to be with her mother. But who knew what would happen by the time they drove there? And she didn’t want to miss her father’s next phone call…

With a swift, messy motion of the marker, Lauren highlighted the job advertisement, cringing all the while. 22,000? That was what she had made her first year. But she was desperate. The job market had lowered significantly in their region.

Wanted: 3rd grade music teacher. Year experience mandatory. 34,000 yearly salary. Tucson, AZ. Contact 555-314-5439

34,000 a year? That was impressive! But it was all the way in Arizona…

She heard the sound of the door knob turning - rusty old thing that they needed to replace months ago - and she hurriedly tucked the newspaper section aside. She feigned sleep, drawing the covers high to her chin in a fashion quick enough to make any disobeying eight year old envious.

Darien entered, and she stared up at him from beneath veiled hues, squinting only lightly so that he would not be able to tell she was awake.

She had embraced him earlier for the first time in a while. She had needed the comfort more than she could have ever imagined. Staring at him now, she still wanted nothing more than to indulge herself in his embrace. But he had hurt her. She thought of how many other lips he had tasted in between hers, and it nearly made her wince.

He said nothing, only stood there for a moment, staring down at her. She struggled to remain still, to play true to her disguise, and after a few moments of hesitation, she heard him walk out of the room. He turned the light off on his way.

In the early-evening darkness, she pulled the covers around her shoulders. Darien loved her, she knew it. That was what made it even worse. The fact was, plain and true, that he didn’t see anything wrong with his actions, despite it all. And if he did, he did not care enough to change them.

Chances, chances. She had given him chances. Had given him everything but her eyelashes, for crissakes, that was within reasonable limitations! At this point, Lauren felt like she had no more of her trust - or her heart - to give.

She loved Darien, too, and they had had a beautiful life together so far, but for the smears… His mistakes… She had always seen herself spending the rest of her life with him. But now? She honestly didn’t know if she could anymore. Kimmy was a bit older, and she didn’t have a job, but her parents would help her if she *really* needed it, just for Kimmy…

How far away was their wedding? The thought made her pale. Could she even go through with it at this point? A week ago, a month ago, it had all seemed so perfectly clear. She could still see her happy future laid out in the crystal globe of her optimistic mind, but it was cracked.

With tears flowing down her cheeks, Lauren allowed herself to fall into the abandon that only sleep could provide. She never bothered to wonder why Darien had come into the room in the first place.

The next morning, Lauren awoke with a start, and the first thing on her mind was her mother. She hadn’t heard from her father the entire day prior, and in her own self-misery, she had allowed herself to fall asleep!

“Darien!” She yelled, wondering if he was home. She was surprised to find that he was in bed, just so far at the end, he shouldn’t have accidentally fallen onto the ground in his sleep… (Must have been luck!)

He was awake, too, though his eyes were half-lidded and his mouth parted in the fashion that beckoned to a yawn. He had a somber expression, despite his weariness, and she wasted no time on petty “good morning” salutations.

“Lauren…” he murmured, and she knew it before he even said it. The look in his eyes spoke of only the worst. “Your mother passed away last night.”

Emotion rose within her, awakened her. And at this point, Lauren forgot all the well-thought decisions she had made the night before.

To hell with everything, she thought to herself, tossing herself into Darien’s arms. Her mother was gone. The formalities and the wrongdoings meant nothing right now, she needed somebody, and he was almost all she had left.

The wedding was now 4 days away, all that Darien could think about as he sat the bar.He wasn’t so down on himself and his life and hisproblems to really dull the pain by trying to wash them away with alcohol.No, he was at the bar simply to get away from the house. The bartender looked at him with a look of absurdity, trying to reason why he was there in the first place. Not everyone came to a bar to drink all the time, even though that’s one of the main reasons.He sneered his lip up as he caught the bartender’s look, asking, “What the fuck you lookin’ at, cu’?”

Kevin, sitting beside his best friend was nursing a drink of vodka, chiding, “Eh, lea’ him alone. He cool. Chill. Thought we just came here to relax and stuff. You good, right?”

“A’ight den, let’s just relax, okay?”

Darien intoned, giving in, “Yeah, you right.I should just chill out. Matter o’ fact, the wedding is 4 days away.”

Kevin looked to him, eyes widened in a look of surprise, “Really? Are you ready?”

Darien nodded his head and answered convincingly, “Yeah. I think I’m ready.We puttin’ to it together, with the help of her parents. Well, it was her parents, her mom died two nights ago, actually. She going through a lotta stuff and I’m actually worried about her.”

Kevin blinked, surprised for the second time in a span of 20 seconds. “Wow. That’s heavy. I hope she really is doing okay. She’s a nice girl. A good girl. You’re lucky, and I’m not ashamed to say that.”

Darien again nodded his head, agreeing with him. “I know. That’s why I can’t mess up again. She doesn’t deserve that.She also lost her job. She been job-hunting, though, I’m sure.”

Kevin shook his head, taking another shot to the head of the vodka.Darien spoke on it, “Better chill. I’mma have to carry you over my shoulder if you don’t quit!”

Kevin agreed, taking a look at the drink, then Darien, before taking another go. “Mm, well, I deserve it ‘fore all the times I saved you, ya know. What are friends for except to carry their drunk friends, and offer their girlfriends as collateral for when you loan the other money?”

Darien blinked, again. He was taken aback by the statement. “Whoa. What was that about? Are you insinuating I owe you money, and that you wanna sleep with my wife, I mean, fiancée, as collateral?”

Kevin merely sat there. “Now you know me better than to follow up on the latter, but you KNOW you still owe me $50!I’m not rollin’ in dough like you.”

Darien sighed, saying resignedly, “A’ight, a’ight. You right. I gotchu.”

Darien looked around and yawned, wanting to leave now, bored with the whole scene now. “Let’s get outta here.”

They stood and what they both saw was Monica and Juanita walking in, neither of the pair aware of the other yet. Kevin looked to Darien and whispered, “There goes your trouble…”

Darien groaned, the only way to the exit is if they walked past the two. Then, the other pair caught the other two guys looking at them, Monica’s face lighting up with a smile, “Hey, babes!”

She clicked his way, her heels clacking against the floor as she sashayed sassily in her denim, pleated skirt and body-fitting green tanktop, neck rung with a necklace that had small globes of blue and green, alternating. Her hair done up, in a ponytail, shavings of curls falling down around her ears, her pretty dark brown-skin face exposed.

Juanita was almost right next to her, just a step or two behind, the unique, yet cool chick getting her own little run-way stride on. She paid no mind to the surroundings, knowing people were probably watching them at the moment. She had on a vest that was buttoned-up, framed around her full-chest, a white tank-top underneath, wearing black pants that fit to her legs, made of “stretchy material”, and red boots that came up to her shin.

Kevin was in the background at this point, not so far back as to be left unmentioned, but in the back in that he let Darien continue on as he met up with Monica in an embrace. Already acquainted with Juanita (they always flirted with each other, though nothing was really there), they went off to the side somewhere, leaving Monica and Darien to tend to each other.

Darien and Monica moseyed over to the bar, sealing their companionship by ordering and then enjoyinga drink. They sat, and they began talking….