by Mia Sosa
Henry trotted away, an irritating spring in his step prompting her to picture him being attacked by a swarm of bees.
Pasha joined her, her face impassive.
Karen answered her silent question. “I didn’t make it.”
Pasha threw her hand around her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Karen. But you’ll take the retest in two weeks and join us then. No big deal.”
“Do you mind if I ask you how you did?”
Pasha hesitated. “Um. Ninety?”
Karen grinned. “Is that a question or an answer?”
Pasha blushed in response. “I scored a ninety,” she said, this time with more confidence in her voice.
Pasha had two small children and a husband who worked irregular hours as a physician’s assistant. How did she do it? “Congrats. That’s fantastic. And I’m super impressed that you’re able to keep your head on straight despite your personal responsibilities. What’s your secret?”
Pasha covered her mouth and leaned in. “I totally ignore my kids and husband when I need to. In fact, it’s a wonder my kids go to school with clothes on. And most days I make questionable fashion choices. I used to consider sending the kids to school with mismatched shoes a mistake. Now I’ve tricked them into thinking it’s a style choice. There’s no magic, Karen. It’s all about priorities.” Pasha paused. “My unsolicited advice? Don’t get too caught up in that grade. It’s your first exam. You’ll rock the next one.”
Karen nodded, mentally acknowledging what she’d been ignoring these past few weeks: She’d lost sight of her priorities. What medical student took a weekend trip to wine country just days before a major exam? Even her decision to hang out with her classmates at Bourbon had been out of character for her. The old Karen would have declined her classmates’ invitation and spent the entire weekend studying instead. But she’d wanted to relax and get to know her classmates, something she’d never let herself do in college.
Karen had spent too much time with Mark and not enough time focused on her studies. But she would easily change that—because she had no other choice.
* * *
Mark rang the bell for Karen’s apartment. He hadn’t seen or heard from her for a week. They hadn’t parted on the best terms the last time they’d seen each other at Bourbon so he wasn’t surprised by her radio silence. Still, he wanted to check on her and make sure everything was okay.
Her soft voice crackled through the intercom. “Yes?”
“Karen, it’s Mark.”
She didn’t respond.
“Karen?”
“Sorry. Let me buzz you in.”
When he reached the second-floor landing, she stood at the threshold of her apartment, holding the door ajar. One bare foot covered the other, and dark circles rimmed her eyes. She looked so vulnerable standing there.
He wanted to hug her, but he placed his hands in his pockets instead. “Hey.”
She swung open the apartment door and stepped aside to let him in. He followed her inside. She plopped onto the couch and gestured for him to take a seat, too. Books and papers covered her kitchen table, and a stack of dishes, one plate away from toppling over, sat in the sink. A pile of unfolded laundry partially hid the armchair in the far corner of the room.
“I haven’t heard from you. I figured you were busy with classes, so I thought I’d give you some space.”
“I appreciate that. And you’re right. I’ve been slammed with work, so I haven’t had a chance to call you. How have you been?”
He stared at her, trying to gauge her mood. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Mark. I’m just busy. Every day can’t be a fun fest. I assumed you of all people would understand. ”
He chewed on his bottom lip and jammed his hands in his pockets. Busy was one thing, pissed off was quite another, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing a critical piece of information. “Did something happen, Karen?”
Her cell phone rang before she could answer.
“Hello?” she said to the caller. “Oh, hey, Pasha.” She rose from the couch and raised a single finger to let him know she’d need a minute.
He took the opportunity to survey her work space. Her anatomy book lay open on the table, and two stapled pages rested next to it with 58 written in red on the top sheet. She’d gotten a 58 on an exam. Mark sighed. It all made sense now. She’d gotten a poor grade, and she was upset about it. And given her distant demeanor, she blamed him for it, too.
What the hell was he doing messing around with her? She deserved better than this. She was embarking on a demanding journey to become a doctor. She didn’t need him screwing with her head, and she deserved the freedom to do what she wanted, when she wanted, with whom she wanted. She needed to embrace these years, the ones in which she had no responsibility to anyone other than herself. So he would let her go. For her own good. And for his.
She ended the call and crossed the room, stopping a foot away from him. “Pasha’s in my study group.”
“And a friend?” he asked.
She furrowed her brows as though the idea were foreign to her. “Yes. Yes, I guess she is.”
“Look, I came over to talk. I don’t know how to say this…”
She stared at him, a resigned expression on her face. “Just say it, Mark.”
“I think we should stop seeing each other.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Now there’s a shocker.”
Though she’d responded with sarcasm, she really was shocked. She’d spent the last few days trying to regroup, working through her concerns about their relationship and praying for a solution that wouldn’t require her to end it. A monumental waste of her time. “Oh, I get it. All work and no fun makes Mark a very unhappy boy. Is that it?”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“It’s not? Then what is this about? Because it seems to me that you’re ready to bolt the minute we come close to acting like a normal couple, with everyday problems, and oh, I don’t know, issues.”
Jaw clenched and nostrils flaring, he simply stood there, and as pathetic as it seemed, she was grateful even for that reaction. Without it, she would have seriously questioned whether he had any feelings for her at all.
When several tense seconds had passed, he spoke. “C’mon, Karen. What did you expect? That we’d ride off into the sunset together? You and I both know that was never going to happen.”
“You know what I know? Against my better judgment, I gave us a chance, thinking that we might be able to meet in the middle. I could learn to loosen up a bit maybe, and you could learn to think of someone other than yourself for a change. I should have known that would be asking too much of you.”
When he finally raised his head out of his proverbial ass, he refused to meet her gaze. But she didn’t miss the glazed expression that passed over his face. His callous demeanor caused her stomach to twist. In that moment, she knew without a doubt that she’d been a temporary distraction for him.
Tears threatened to fall down her face, but she blinked several times to stem them. Three months ago, she’d been fine. Had a game plan for her future, and a singular purpose: to succeed in medical school. She’d let her relationship with him threaten her confidence. And because she had so little confidence in other areas of her life, the potential loss of that confidence—in the one aspect of her life where she’d excelled—shook her to the core. And for what? For a fling with someone who would never see her as anything but a plaything.
She glanced down at her hands and cursed them for shaking. Maintaining her composure had never seemed so important before. But despite her best efforts, her eyes watered. She gulped in air, but everything about her apartment stifled her. The dirty dishes in the sink. The pile of laundry judging her from its spot on her favorite armchair. The books strewn across her table. She needed to get her shit together.
She narrowed her eyes, her long lashes damp from the tears she hadn’t been able to hold at bay. “You know, a
ll this time, I’ve chastised myself for being weak, for worrying about what others think of me, for panicking in the face of situations that unnerved me. But you know what? I’m actually really strong. Unlike you, I confront my fears. You, on the other hand? You let your fears consume you.”
He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his sides. “This isn’t about me, Karen. Look, you’re a young woman with so much ahead of her. We’re not at the same place in our lives. You need to explore the possibilities. And I’m done with exploring. I did that ten years ago. I’m looking for something permanent.”
When she titled her head to the side, he added, “Eventually.”
“Relationships don’t come with blueprints, Mark. And you can’t assume I’ll do something simply because of my age. I’m not a fucking demographic. I’m a person. And why do you get to decide what’s good for me?”
He raised his head to the ceiling in exasperation, and despite her nonviolent tendencies, she wanted to punch him in the throat.
“That’s just it, Karen. I don’t get to decide what’s good for you. I get to decide what’s good for me—and you’re not it.”
Her head snapped back as though he’d landed an upper cut to her chin. His words certainly had the same impact.
She groaned and squeezed her temples, finally accepting that she’d been drawn to him for superficial reasons. Tried to create substance where there was none. What a fucking mess—and it was time to clean it up. She wiped her tears and blew out a long breath. “This is the point in the conversation where I say I’m sorry.”
* * *
Mark tried to catch up with the conversation. “Sorry?”
“Yes, sorry.” Her voice quivered. “I got ahead of myself, and if I’d really been thinking, I would have figured out the problem sooner.”
Disparate thoughts collided in his head. What the hell was she talking about? “I’m not sure I’m following you.”
She raised her head to the ceiling and sighed. “Don’t you see? Hero worship. I got so caught up in what you’d been able to draw out of me, I didn’t realize I’d put you on a pedestal.” She gave a bitter laugh. “As though you were the only man in the world who could bring me to satisfying orgasm. In romance books, it’s called magic peen. When a woman thinks a man’s penis is a wand capable of granting her every wish.”
“That’s what you think is going on here?”
“I do. And it was selfish of me to focus on my needs. As if you didn’t have your own shit to work through. I blinded myself to it, or rather the magic peen blinded me to it. Meanwhile, you have issues, Mark. There’s a reason you’re a confirmed bachelor. There’s a reason you’ll never give yourself fully to any woman. Not even the woman you’ll marry someday. So I’m really sorry if I put you in an uncomfortable position of having to deal with your issues and mine.”
He stared at her, unable to digest how their relationship had deteriorated so quickly. A part of him wanted to apologize and tell her he’d do and be whatever she wanted. But the less selfish part of him knew he’d only be prolonging the inevitable demise of their relationship.
Nothing about her explanation made sense to him, but it gave him the out he needed. So he took it. “As I said, you’re no good for me. And all that bullshit that just tumbled out of your mouth proves I’m not good for you, either.” He threw open her apartment door. “I’ll see you around, Karen.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
In the two weeks after she and Mark parted ways, Karen buried herself in her work, filling every waking moment with tasks that would keep her mind busy. By design, she spared no time to think about him, and when she experienced a lull in her schedule, she read ahead in her classes to fill it.
In that time, Gracie had invited her to lunch, but she’d claimed to be too busy. Gracie being Gracie, she showed up at Karen’s apartment unannounced on a Thursday evening.
“Karen, let me up,” she said through the intercom.
Karen buzzed her in and waited for Gracie at the door. “Why didn’t you call?”
Gracie responded as she climbed the last few steps. “Because I knew you wouldn’t answer. And the last time you were this evasive, you were having a meltdown in college.”
Karen followed her sister into the apartment and watched Gracie inspect the place. “I’m not having a meltdown.” Truth. “I’m fine.” Lie. “I’ve just been busy.” Truth.
Gracie peered at her and shook her head. “You don’t look fine. Come. Sit. Tell me what’s going on.”
So Karen told her about Mark, leaving out the sexy bits.
“I knew something was going on between you two. Ethan said I was crazy.”
“You knew. How?”
Gracie rolled her eyes. “That embarrassing display at my apartment, that’s how. Mimi knows, too. She only had a dozen photographs of her trip to Puerto Rico on that phone. The rest of the time, she’d been eavesdropping on you. You guys are amateurs. And thanks to you, I’ll never look at flan the same way again.” She shuddered for added effect. “Oh, and if I had any doubts, the fact that Mark never called Sharon was very telling.”
“Yeah, well. He made very clear that I wasn’t the right woman for him.”
“And don’t you think it’s interesting that he completely rebuffed my efforts to set him up with a so-called right woman? He’s scared, Karen.”
“I know. But I’m the last person to tackle that issue with him. I have enough on my plate as it is.”
Gracie reached over and squeezed Karen’s hand. “Kar, I understand your desire to focus on school. I really do. But it is possible to be both a medical student and have a relationship. You wouldn’t be breaking new ground here.”
“I know it’s possible, but it’s not ideal.”
“Who cares if it’s ideal? And I think you’re wrong about that anyway. Tell me this, have you ever considered that you could have a relationship with someone who would support you while you’re in medical school? That having someone to lean on, or to get you through the tough times, might be a good thing.”
Karen thought of Pasha, who managed her medical school career with two kids and a husband. She’d assumed Pasha excelled at school in spite of her family, but it occurred to her that it was possible, if not likely, that Pasha succeeded because of it. “I hear you, Gracie. I do.”
Gracie threaded their hands together. “Just know that you don’t have to do this alone.”
But for the first time in her life, that’s exactly how she felt: alone.
The next day, Professor Haines asked to see her after gross anatomy class,
“Ms. Ramirez, we haven’t posted the results of the retake yet, but I just wanted to commend you on your performance. You received the highest score in the class.”
Karen took a deep breath and smiled. “Thank you, Professor Haines. I don’t think I’ve ever studied that much for an exam.”
“Well, it showed. And perhaps your first score was just the kick in the pants you needed. I can tell by your comments and questions in class that you’ll be an excellent student. Keep it up. We’ll post the results tomorrow. You’ll get your lab assignment then as well.”
“Great. Thanks again.”
Karen practically danced out of the lecture hall. Until she realized the practical effect of her grade on the exam: she was headed to the lab. A rite of passage for any first-year medical student, gross anatomy lab would require her to dissect a human cadaver. Haines expected the students to use a scalpel on a deceased person and speak coherently about the anatomical structures of that person’s body.
Her lab group would “meet” the cadavers next week. Some students, she knew, would name them in an effort to humanize the experience; others would make crass jokes to hide their discomfort. Karen anticipated that she wouldn’t even be able to enter the lab. And then what? She would fail the class, that’s what. In fact, Karen questioned whether she’d ever be able to do it—and when she considered seeking someone’s advice on how to handle it, only on
e person came to mind: Mark.
But she’d left him with the impression that she had only one use for him: to fulfill her physical needs. True, he hadn’t believed her. While the notion had a certain surface appeal, she knew now that it was complete and utter bullshit, just as he’d suspected. She loved him. But he didn’t want her love. Still, might they be able to move beyond their history and learn to be friends again? She hoped so, because she really needed him.
In a panic, she sat on her couch and picked up her cell. The desire to hear his voice was so great, her hands shook as she punched in his office number.
Expecting to hear his assistant’s voice, her heart banged against her chest when he picked up on the second ring.
“This is Lansing.”
Her voice, soft and raspy, savored the opportunity to speak his name. “Mark.”
The silence stretched for more seconds than she could bear, so she filled it with her own voice. “Just listen, okay?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m listening.”
“I don’t think either one of us is free from blame here, but I wanted to say sorry for suggesting that you were nothing more to me than a warm body. You were much more to me than that. I can’t pretend to understand your reasons for not wanting to work things out, but I respect your decision. More than anything, though, I realize I’ve lost a great deal by not having you as my friend.”
“Thanks for saying that. And I apologize for my part in this. I’d like us to be friends, too.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Unable to remain in one place, she paced her living room. “Gross anatomy’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Did Netter’s book help?”
“Not really.”
He laughed.
“I’m having a bit of a freak-out about meeting my first human cadaver next week.”
“Damn. I’m not sure I could do that.”
“I’m not sure I can do it, either.”
