“Before Jamison and I got together, he mentioned he had a female friend he had known since he was a kid who lived in town. He didn’t say it, but I knew he was hoping to reconnect with you just by his expression. We got together a little after that, so he never broached the subject again.”
I avoid that topic just in case she wants to hit me again. “How did you guys meet?”
“I was posting flyers for Chuck, advertising a room for rent. Jamison saw the ad and asked me about it. I took him to Chuck’s house so they could meet. He moved in not much later.”
“Jami told me about that, but I didn’t put the two together.” I shake my head. “I didn’t realize you knew Chuck before Jami.”
“Yeah, I lived in the room Jamison moved into. I moved out to live with friends.”
My brows pinch together. “So you’re close to Chuck. Is that why you spent Christmas with them?”
“Sort of. They didn’t want me to be alone, so I went. I remember meeting Mel in the lobby when we got back to Jamison’s apartment.” Lauren half laughs. “I don’t think she likes me much.”
“It's not that. Jami just… Well, he didn’t tell us about you, so it came as a shock. Mel’s my best friend. If she was rude, it wasn’t because of you. It was because of me.”
Lauren stops at a fork in the hallway. She reads the sign on the wall pointing to the chapel and continues to meander that way as I follow.
Her gaze casts to the floor before her. “Jamison didn’t tell you about me?”
Ouch.
That was a thoughtless thing to say.
I shrink into myself. “I’m sorry, Lauren. That was a terrible thing to tell you.”
“No. It’s okay. Jamison and I have had a rough past. I don’t blame him for not bringing me up.”
“You’re more understanding than me. That kind of information would put me in a tailspin.”
“It would’ve done the same to me a month ago, but I’ve gotten help since then.”
“That sounds like a good thing.”
“It is. On top of that, Jamison and I came to an agreement on Christmas. We decided to let go of all the pain between us because, for a brief moment, we had a beautiful little boy.”
I picture their son, and my heart aches for them.
She wipes a tear from her face. “We decided to let our love for him be the focus. Nothing else matters in the end.”
My own miscarriages flit through my thoughts. I know how painful that kind of loss is.
Compassion fills my blood. “I’m sorry about your son. Nobody deserves to experience that kind of loss.”
“Thanks.”
We stroll down the hallway in silence. I have a million questions I want to ask, but her comment hangs in the air.
Love is the only thing that matters in the end.
She pulls me from my thoughts. “I’m on medication now. That has helped a lot.”
“That’s good to hear.” I don’t know what else to say, so there’s a long pause.
“I don’t think Jamison would’ve dated me if I didn’t get pregnant. That’s why I always found myself hitting him.” She releases a regretful groan. “I can’t believe that’s how he’ll remember me.”
“The night I was there wasn’t the first time you hit him?” I think back on that night. He told her not to hit him anymore and threatened to call the cops.
“Hardly. I was mean to him.”
