Page 48 of In You

With You

Tamryn

"Where do you go?" I murmur quietly, tapping the little puzzle piece against my lip as I try to find the little oblong shape it goes in.

I'm at the living room table, concentrating with everything in me to put together the perimeter of a puzzle when Caleb's low voice breaks my concentration, startling me out of my focus.

"Baby, when's the last time you had your period?"

I look up sharply, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth. Goosebumps pebble along the flesh of my arm, and I frown as our gazes clash. We stare at each other for long moments; him, waiting patiently, and me trying to process and figure out an answer. Because…

I don't remember.

"What?" I ask, cocking my head to the side.

"When's the last time you had your period?" he repeats slowly, leaning his elbows on his knees and pinning me with a level stare that scares me. "You've been here close to five months and you haven't had a period that I know of, and you weren't on birth control, right?"

I tear my eyes from him and lower the puzzle piece to the table as my heart stops beating, my lungs freeze, and the blood in my veins turn to ice.

"Camilla-"

"It's Tamryn," I whisper, feeling my eyes well up with tears. "And I…. I don't know. I can't remember the last time I had a period."

His normally hawk-sharp eyes turn warm as they glide over my face in a thorough assessment. "Okay," he says slowly, "do you feel any different?"

I think hard, even putting my hands to my tummy. "No. At least, I don't think so. I feel fine. Like I normally do."

He's silent for a second before sliding off the couch and sitting next to me on the floor. A heavy hand lands on my knee and rubs, but it doesn't give me one iota of comfort as the panic begins to swell, removing all the peace I'd had just a minute ago. "Want to go get a test?"

I turn my head, staring at him silently imploring him to see how bad this is.

"Caleb….I can't remember the last time I had a period.

" A tear makes its way down my cheek and I sniff, refusing to look away.

It's just now occurring to me that I could be pregnant.

Or is it? There's just too many lapses in my memory that I can't trust myself anymore.

"I can't-" My breath hitches as it sinks in just how bad it is that someone like me is pregnant.

Oh my God. " I can't have a baby, Caleb. "

We're going to be fine…

I blink rapidly, wiping my fingers across my face as the worst thought ever comes to the forefront of my mind. "Oh, fuck. What if it's his?"

"Hey," he says softly, bringing his hand up to my hand and then thumbing away a tear.

"You've been here too long for that. It has to be mine.

Don't cry, my love. We're going to get a test and just see what happens.

There's nothing to be worried about, okay?

" He leans forward, placing his forehead against mine. "I'm with you through it all, baby."

I nod as an ugly, gasping sob escapes my lips. He pulls me in and I bury my face into his chest as he rocks me.

Two hours later after traveling into town, we're back at home with six pregnancy tests, all of them showing I'm pregnant. I'm having a baby.

Me.

And two weeks later, an obgyn confirms I'm two months pregnant.

One Month Later

“How have the alters been affecting your relationship?”

I shift my weight in my seat, twist my fingers in my lap, and clear my throat softly as I refocus my attention on the monitor in front of us and cross my legs, swinging my foot anxiously.

"Uhm," I say with an embarrassed half-laugh.

"Can you repeat the question, Sarah? I'm sorry, I was a little distracted.

" I cast a sheepish glance at Caleb, who's sitting relaxed next to me with his arm along the back of the couch where we're sitting across from the monitor.

His fingers stroke my shoulder in a comforting caress.

Sarah, my therapist, gives me a kind smile and nods. "Yes, I asked how have the alters been affecting your relationship? Have they been coming out more since you found out you've been pregnant?"

I'm just now getting to the point that I'm accepting that I have three other personalities that are in my body, which accounts for the lapses in time.

I just wish that there was a magic wand that could be waved that could fix this.

Undo the damage that's been done to my psyche.

I'm obviously safe now, so why hasn't my mind gotten the memo yet?

My lips tighten and my gaze goes down to my clenched fingers in my lap. Caleb speaks up, obviously seeing I'm stuck.

"She changes from Tamryn to Camilla pretty frequently," he says in a level voice. "As you know, a glass of water is a trigger. However, we can't just deny her water that she needs for basic function."

Sarah gets a solemn look on her face as she nods her head. "Yes, of course."

"However, there was a bit of time where she refused to drink water at all, wanting to stay as Tamryn.

And it took a lot of assurance on my end that her switching to Camilla doesn't bother me.

That her switching period doesn't make me mad.

" Caleb pauses for a minute, rubbing his finger across his lip as his gaze drops from the monitor to the table as he muses on a clearly disturbing thought.

He must sense my rising anxiety, because his fingers tighten on mine, and his eyes go back to Sarah's.

"Nathan only came out one time when she was threatened by a few male strangers.

We aren't exactly sure what the trigger is for her to turn into Cu-" He bites off my seven-year-old alter's name, clearing his throat softly as his eyes flick from mine then back to the sweet-tempered therapist. " Tamryn's seven year old alter.

She doesn't come out often. But eight times out of ten I can get her back to Tamryn with a glass of water if the alter isn't too agitated. "

She nods, taking a brief moment to scribble in her notepad. "When have you found her to come out, Caleb?"

"Lately, it's usually when I myself am in some sort of crisis."

Her head raises, focusing on him now. "What do you mean?"

Caleb sighs a deep breath and then scrubs a hand down his face. I can tell this is an incredibly uncomfortable conversation for him. One that, though is seemingly getting better, is still a source of contention.

"Because of my mom's…" Cutting off his words he pauses and averts his face from both of us. I place a hand on his thigh, loaning him what I hope is some semblance of strength. "Because when I was five years old, my mom started molesting me. Raping me. And when I was seven, I…."

My lips quiver, and sympathetic tears flood my eyes making him blurry as I see him go back in time. His entire body tenses up, his leg begins to jiggle, and his hand gets clammy in mine.

"Take your time, Caleb. This is a safe space." Sarah, who has the kindest eyes I've ever seen in my life, settles us into a comfortable silence. Patient and understanding as she always is.

"When I was seven I killed her." A vacant look enters his eyes, and because he's emotionally suffering something inside me tugs, pulling and yearning to get closer to him. Because he's willing to go back into a dark place for me, to help me through what I'm going through.

To heal so we can move forward together.

Though I knew he'd killed her, we've never gotten into the specifics of what happened. And though I'm curious, nothing in me wants him to relive that night if it means he loses more of himself.

"You don't have to share," I whisper, rubbing his leg. "Baby, you don't."

He turns his eyes to me and then looks down to where our hands are, linking our fingers together. He swallows hard, and then shifts in the seat.

"I don't know what it was about that night that was different from the other nights.

Maybe it was the fact that my sister Flora sued my mother for visitation of me and had just won.

And for once I felt a glimmer of hope. That there was someone out there that was fighting for me.

Who wanted me. Someone I felt was…safe…"

Caleb falls silent for a second, his eyes narrowing as his thumb flutters over my fingers.

"I'll never forget how my mom looked and acted the day before I was supposed to visit with my sister for the weekend.

It was our first visitation together. My mom was anxious, a bit wild that day.

I remember her doing everything perfectly.

The smell of the freshly washed laundry she'd had me put away in my drawers.

She'd even made three solid meals that day," he scoffs, "instead of the usual cereal and milk for breakfast, and boxed mac and cheese for lunch. "

His voice fades, and pauses for so long that I think we've lost him. I flutter my thumb across the back of his hand when he looks to the side, away from both me and Sarah, and his voice goes even lower.

"She'd made meatloaf for dinner. It's my favorite.

That night she touched me like she thought it would be her last time.

She was more…freverent." His deep voice rings out, but yet, it's hollow.

"Her body felt heavier than it normally did on mine.

Her hands never left my chest. Her nails left bloody marks in my skin.

She called me by my dad's name when she orgasmed," he whispers.

"Ironically, there were nights I'd call for him too for help.

Sometimes I'd be angry at him for leaving me. "

Looking down at my lap, I stay silent as a single tear falls down my cheek. There are no words for the heightened anxiety that's flowing through my body in response to his truth, and the tone in which he tells it.

I know I went through my own torturous year with my abuser, but a part of me wonders how it is that my mind split, but yet his didn't. I love him way too much to say that it isn't fair, but it is definitely curious.