by Kat Addams
Klara looked out over the audience. She could tell who had already read the book and who hadn’t. The nods of approval were her fans. The stricken glances came from those who hadn’t yet decided to dive into Limerence. Maybe it wasn’t the best passage to read aloud, but Klara was anything but conventional. She had done things mostly her way—mostly. And here she was now, in a bookstore, on a podium, reading her published work. It wasn’t luck; it was sheer hard work and her infamous stubbornness.
The room was just a few rows deep, and not an empty chair was in sight. Most of her readers were women in their mid-forties, she noticed. But she did see a few men scattered about as well. Probably men who had been dragged here by their wives or men who would appreciate a good literary porn scene now and then because she definitely had those in her novel. It was titled Limerence after all. Not love, not smut, not erotica, just the feel-good emotions of limerence. Set in early eighteenth century and during the plague, of course. But still, limerence nonetheless.
Klara stood at the podium and continued explaining a bit about her book and her research into local history. Before her time was up, she asked for questions from the audience. She listened as the guests murmured to each other. A few asked more specific details about the history of certain places in her novel. Klara explained all she knew about the history, location, and life back then, as she knew it from research. She could see some of the audience members getting restless. She didn’t blame them. They were asking the same questions over and over.
“Cut to the chase! We want to know how you wrote all that bumpin’ and grindin’, darlin’!”
Klara looked into the audience and straight into Ms. May’s eyes. Of course it was Ms. May, and of course she would put Klara on the spot like that. She peered back at the old coot and laughed along with the audience. Her mind raced with the story she had prepared in case this came up.
“Honestly, I just read a lot of erotica to prepare myself,” Klara said. Her eyes clouding over as she tried to hide the sadness she was surely displaying on her face.
She wanted to tell them it was him. She wanted to say his name aloud. She wanted to whisper it out and breathe it back in. She wanted to explain to them all how she’d had this person—him—come into her life and completely change the way she lived it. But she couldn’t. She avoided any mention of him, any thoughts of him, and any late-night, drunken internet-stalking quests. It had been several months since their whirlwind rendezvous, and despite her having no contact with him, he still made a regular appearance in her brain. She was happy to remember, but as hard as she tried, she wished she could forget.
“Are ya sure, honey? I thought, as a writer, you supposed to write what you know. Aren’t you single? You don’t have some juicy tidbits for us?” Ms. May dragged on and on.
Klara held her breath. Why is Ms. May doing this now? Couldn’t she have asked me personally or waited until a more private time? Is she growing senile?
Klara could feel her cheeks grow warm as the guests nodded in agreement. They looked to her, waiting for an answer.
“Writers do write what they know,” a voice called from the back of the room.
Klara’s heartbeat quickened as she met his gaze.
“This Farmer John character, does he have six-pack abs and like to run? I think I’ve seen him around town a time or two … ”
The room erupted in laughter as Chris and Ms. May looked across the room and nodded at each other in acknowledgment. If looks could kill, Chris would be dead. Ms. May looked just as alarmed as Klara. Behind Ms. May stood Grayson and the popular John himself. Grayson’s hand was on his heart, and his jaw dropped as he slowly realized what was happening.
“Mmhmm. I rest my case,” Ms. May muttered, holding her tongue for once so as not to cause a scene. She gripped her chair tight, restraining herself from walking over and popping Chris in the head.
The Johnson leaned in to whisper to Ms. May.
Klara glanced around the room, desperate for anyone to help her out. Her mind couldn’t focus, and the room started to close in on her when she suddenly heard an alarm go off. The guests turned to Chris, scoffing at his phone’s rude interruption.
“Sorry! Sorry!” he apologized loudly, giving Klara an out to excuse herself from the distracted audience.
“That’s all right! My time is up now anyhow! But I will gladly answer your questions or sign your books at the front of the store. Thank you all so much for coming out!” Klara’s knees trembled as she made her way to the front.
“I need fifteen minutes,” she told her agent as she headed outside for some air. Her feet couldn’t take her away fast enough.
What the hell is he doing here? she thought. Her mind was full of rage, but her eyes were on the verge of brimming over with tears. How long has he been in town? How did he know about my book signing today? What in the hell was he thinking, just showing up, unannounced, and on such a big day as this? The thoughts raced through her mind as she tried to rationalize it all and take it all in.
Klara kept her back to the doors as she stared out over the parking lot, thinking. She couldn’t believe he was here. The second she’d heard that voice, she had known exactly who it was. The cold air hit her face, pushing her tears back up and into hiding. She sniffled, breathed deeply, and readied herself to face whatever was waiting for her back inside.
“Klara … ”
“No. Just … no. You don’t get to march back into my life. Not right now you don’t. No, no, no, no,” she said, turning to look at him.
His eyes looked frightened and ashamed, but also, she could feel it. That magnetic pull starting already between them both. His hands were fidgeting, ready to grab her and not let go. Hers were doing the same. Their legs unstable and weak.
“I’m not trying to … I mean … I want … ”
“Aren’t you supposed to be off, touring the world and signing your own books? Now, I’m trying to sign mine, and I finally have a good thing going. You’ve been out of my head more often, and now, this. Now, you come back. For what? Do you want me to thank you for inspiration? Yes, thanks. You know that. Know what else I can thank you for? Leaving. Because you leaving is what led me to create this world for myself. So, thank you for coming into my life, leading me into believing in this happily ever after shit, and then peacing out. It’s been brilliant writing material! Thank you, Chris!”
Klara turned to head back inside, leaving him outside and unsure of what to do with himself.
“Wait! We agreed, Klara,” he said, shaking his head. “You told me to go. I thought that’s what you wanted. I wanted you with me! You told me no! And, even after I left, I tried to keep up communication. You shut me out. I tried everything to get through to you. Believe me, I tried everything. I even came back a few weeks after we parted at the airport. I was here.”
“You were what? You came here and didn’t tell me? No stopping by to check in and see how I was doing?”
“You cut me out completely. Blocked me from everything. Do you really think you would have received me well? Or that I thought you would want to see me? I still came though. I needed you. I ached for you … still do … ”
“But?”
“I was at the river,” Chris sighed. “Remember the spot where we met? I was there, waiting for you. I woke up every morning at five a.m., so I could run into you and do the big, cheesy make-up kiss, and all the world would be right again. Except you weren’t alone. I saw you with him, and you were happy and laughing.”
“With who?”
“I don’t know. Some man—tall, dark hair, underwear model—running alongside you.”
She knew he meant Grayson. He was the only one who had been running with her aside from her group runs.
“That’s my gay friend Grayson, you nimrod! It’s Farmer John’s lover!”
“What? So, you mean, you didn’t pick up an underwear model after I left town?”
“No, I didn’t pick up an underwear model! Good grief, Chris. Don�
�t you know, I loved you? I told you that plenty of times before you left and ran from it. When you love someone, you don’t just jump up and continue the life you lived before you fell in love. It takes a long damn time to heal.”
“I know. I know that now.”
She snorted, still skeptical and angry. Mostly at herself for shutting him out. What if she had known that he had come right back to her? Where would they be by now?
“So, you came back after we broke up? Why?” She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes.
“Yes, I came back. I know I should have told you I was coming, but I wanted this big, grand gesture that was actually, knowing what I know now, a very stupid idea. You just make me full of stupid. And all I want is for you to be happy, Klara. I wasn’t going to ruin that. I would have preferred you happy with me, but I was the one who left. I should have fought harder, pushed harder, held on to you and not let go. Hell, I shouldn’t have even considered leaving you in the first place,” Chris said as he took a step toward her. “I didn’t mean to cause all of this commotion. I just really wanted to see you again, hear your laugh one more time, and tell you how proud I am of you. Also, here, take this. I wanted to give this to you in person. It goes out next month. First copy, all yours.” He handed her a large envelope.
Klara stood tall, still fighting back tears by remembering that trick she’d learned about in another one of those useless magazines. The article said to put your tongue to the roof of your mouth to avoid crying. The tears stayed back, but she was pretty sure the roof of her mouth would have a hickey by the time this conversation was up. She pulled out a manuscript from the envelope and thumbed through the pages. Her eyes darted back and forth between erotic passages that described her exact escapades with Chris. She kept flipping through the pages, finding bits and pieces of familiarity scattered throughout his latest romance novel.
He remained silent, watching her as she thumbed through the last few pages. She stopped and gave it back to him before finishing. He saw she had started to cry.
“I can’t. Not now. I just can’t.” Klara tried to gather herself together.
She didn’t want him to see her like this. She didn’t want him to know that, after all this time, despite fighting it, the moment she had seen him again, she realized she was still, almost crazily, in love with him.
“How does it end, Chris?” she whispered, barely audible.
“He comes back.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said as he stepped closer to her.
She stood up straight, her feet planted firmly on the ground. His face was inches from hers as they glared into each other’s eyes. Their breathing becoming heavier and in sync. Klara’s hands made fists as she physically tried to restrain her mind, her heart, her soul. She was losing again, but so was he. She could see it in his eyes. He was aching for her.
Damn it. I’m putty in his hands again and melting, she cursed herself.
“Why? Why did he come back?” she whispered into his mouth as her eyes naturally shut and the heat of him washed over her.
“Because he loves her,” he whispered back before pulling her into him fully and kissing her.
The shouts and cheers coming from the store shocked Klara into remembering where she was and what she was doing. Behind her, the windows to the bookstore were full of people cheering and smiling. Her face reddened as she saw Ms. May nodding and winking at them both. The Johnson looked on. Grayson wiped his tears from his eyes. She even thought she saw a twinkle of a tear in John’s eyes, too.
“I have to go. Do you want to meet later to talk about what just happened?”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got to get in line and get a book signed! I heard there’s a hot chick who writes borderline porn here!”
She laughed as she headed back indoors. Her agent grabbed her by the arm and steered her toward a table.
Ms. May called out to her as she passed by, “It’s about damn time, honey. I was ’bout to go out there and kiss that boy myself!”
“I thought you said you wanted to kill him!” Klara shot back.
“Not when he talks like that I don’t.” Ms. May pulled at her collar, dramatically fanning herself. As usual.
“So, this title,” he started, narrowing his eyes as they sat across from each other in their old meeting spot, the corner coffee shop.
Klara almost choked on her coffee. She thought about limerence and what all it meant to her. About how it had been something that royally pissed her off at first, but how it’d shaped her future in the end.
“Yeah, well … ya see … ” she began, not knowing how to explain herself.
“I’m kidding. Now, I know it was a shit move on my part. It wasn’t limerence, Klara. It was love. I was just too dumb to know that. I do now. And I’m so, so sorry.”
“No, Chris, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been a coward and cut you out of my life like that. You didn’t deserve it. You had always been so good to me. I was just hurt and immature in dealing with it.”
“I guess we both did some cowardly and immature things.”
“I guess so. What made you decide to come back? How did you even do that? You are supposed to be overseas still.”
“The first time I came back because I’d realized, you were my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. You were right about that.”
“I was what?”
“Right.”
“No, say the whole sentence.”
Chris rolled his eyes, knowing just how much she liked to hear that she was right. “Klara Woods was right. She was right, she was right, she was right! And I was wrong to doubt her.”
“I didn’t tell you that you were wrong, I just—”
“No, but I was. And that’s why I came right back. As I was leaving, I actually met a man on the plane, who helped me out a lot. He talked sense into me.”
“Oh, really? A stranger on the airplane convinced you to come back to me, but I couldn’t? What did this old wise one say?”
“Basically that I was a dumbass.” He shrugged. “That what I was feeling was love and I was too much of a chickenshit to admit it. That the feelings I had for you were special and that most people lived their whole lives not ever finding a person who made them feel like this. So, I decided to come back before I left for Europe. I wanted to try one last time. But, yeah, the old dude made me do it. Or didn’t make me but convinced me of my own stupidity.”
Klara laughed at that. She could only picture Chris’s shocked face as this man called him out on his bullshit. She wished she could shake his hand or even hug the guy.
“I’m so sorry about that plan of yours. You waiting on me at the river and all. It does sound terribly romantic. I would have run to you, ya know. If I had known you were there, I would have run straight into your arms. If I had kept in touch with you and let you know about The Johnson—”
“Whose johnson? I thought you said he was gay!”
“No, no, no, silly.” Her abs were starting to hurt from laughing.
They had only been together a few hours, and they’d immediately fallen back into the same old routine. She explained to him how she’d met The Johnson, all about Grayson and his newfound love of running. That was, until he got bored and moved on to something like goat yoga, which Klara had tried and wouldn't recommend unless you wanted poo pebbles surrounding you during savasana. Not the best way to relax. She rambled on and on about what her life had been like the last few months, and he, too, told her all about his travels.
Chris had been unable to write while he was overseas. His schedule had been so booked that he hardly even had time to research. And, when he finally did and got some time alone, his mind would wander. He was sure he saw the back of Klara as he passed by a café, or he would catch her scent in a department store in London. He would close his eyes at night, and there she would be, staring down at him, those beautiful curls he loved framing his face as she smiled. He missed those smiles. He missed the heat of her bod
y. He missed the feel of her skin. He hadn’t been happy over there. He’d had to come home, and Klara was home.
“So, you cut your trip short, is what you’re saying?” she asked as he tried to explain his reason for coming back the second time.
“Yes. Canceled it. It’s done and over. I’m here, and you’re here. We’re both in the same place, so … ”
“For how long? When do you leave again?” Klara could feel her heart quicken. She could practically hear her pulse in her ears as she held her breath and waited.
“I don’t have to leave. Unless you want me to.”
“What do you mean? You’re a Floridian. You live at the beach!”
“You can teach me how to be a Memphian? Besides, beach house is still there. It can be our winter home. Or, you know, we can split the time however you’d like. That is, if you’re willing and if you want to give this a go … again.”
She noticed his use of “our” home. Is he really fully committing this time?
“You won’t go away again? You can stay here? What about your job?”
“The seminars are completely off the table until I get my writing back under control. But I figured we could talk about any opportunities coming up. If you want to go with me, you can. If you want me to stay, I will.”
“I’ll never stand in the way of your career, Chris.”
“I know your stubborn ass won’t. I’m not asking you to stand in the way but just to stand beside me.”
“You know, if you break my heart again, Ms. May will cut you. You do know that, right?”
“I gathered that from the look she gave me back at the bookstore.”
“Uh-huh. And Grayson will help bury your body.”
“I’m sure he will. But I promise, never again. Let’s break these walls down, both of us, and navigate this crazy love thing together.”
“No more limerence?”
“There never was any.”
Epilogue
The roaring Mississippi River churned on as the sun set over the horizon. It had been exactly two years since Chris saved Klara from her bad decision of bumping into a very much taken and very much gay Farmer John. Two years of ups. Two years of downs. Two years of growing. Together. Always together. The dark time overseas haunted Chris. It was a place he never wanted to return to. Not when he’d married the sunshine. Klara, too, tried to forget that low point in her life. She had been empty and incomplete. Now, she was happy and happily married.
