The Husband Lesson

by Jeanie London

  “He doesn’t think I’m happy.”

  “Are you?”

  Leaning forward, Charles clasped his hands over his knees, slanted his gaze at her. “Thought so.”

  “Then Matthew’s wrong?”

  “I thought so.”

  “Still think so?”

  He shook his head. “Not sure. I haven’t been unhappy, but I also used to know what I wanted. Now, I go down to Mount Sinai and like what I see. Then I come back here and think I don’t want to leave. Nothing’s pushing me in one direction or the other. It’s almost like it doesn’t matter either way.”

  Karan understood that feeling all too well. Just ticking along, going through the motions…

  “I was interested in Mount Sinai. You know that. A few years ago I would have jumped at this chance. Then I was offered the fellowship here. Matthew started sinking money into the surgical unit, and I could see all kinds of possibilities. Maybe Matthew dragging his heels has turned me off.”

  “Is there someone here you don’t want to leave?”

  A smile twitched around his mouth. “That was…delicate. But the answer is no. I’m not seeing anyone.”

  A miracle from what she’d heard, and one that pleased her, so much more than was smart. “Then what’s making you rethink what you want?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Karan could think of lots of questions to ask, lots of suggestions to make, but she remained silent, so very aware of his closeness. Once upon a time he’d valued her opinions, had appreciated her practicality. But he hadn’t asked for her opinion. He wanted to talk, and that meant she should listen.

  “I think it’s you,” he said.

  “Me?”

  He nodded. “All of a sudden you turned up at New Hope.”

  “Unexpected, I know, but how on earth does me being at New Hope impact you?” She smiled. “Well, besides the unfortunate inconveniences and the need for an occasional ride?”

  “It shouldn’t. But for some reason it has.”

  Now it was Karan’s turn to stare. She wasn’t sure what to say, didn’t know whether or not to brace herself. And she didn’t know why she cared so much.

  She’d told herself Charles didn’t matter. She’d been telling herself that for five years. She’d lied.

  Everything about her was poised on the edge of a breath, waiting for his next word, his next glance, his next smile. Her pulse throbbed so hard that she could barely hear anything else. Karan knew this feeling intimately. And it didn’t matter whether or not she should be feeling it.

  She did.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She wasn’t sure what he was referring to. The man wasn’t a mind reader. He couldn’t know how much he still impacted her. God, she hoped not.

  “You know, the community service and stuff with court,” he said. “I haven’t wanted to ask, but I wondered. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, that.” She exhaled a relieved sigh. What could she say? “A month ago I would have told you I was fine.”

  “What about now?”

  Funny, but her answer sounded a lot like his. “Now I would have to say I’m not entirely sure.”

  “I know you don’t drink. I thought you might have been struggling with your divorce.”

  She shrugged. “Yes and no. It was a surprise, to be honest, but nothing like ours. I love Patrick but I was never in love with him. We were good friends and great partners.”

  “Doesn’t sound much like a marriage. Were you good with that?”

  She considered that. “I thought I was.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’d have to admit something was missing. I think that’s why I started getting careless with the champagne. One stupid glass…”

  “Sugar must have been really low.”

  She nodded.

  “First offense?”

  She scowled at him, but the grin playing around his mouth told her he was teasing. “Only offense. Thank you very much.”

  He smiled. “No license. A curfew. Community service. Seems steep for an only offense.”

  “Oh, it is.” She rolled her eyes and admitted, “Of course, if I hadn’t had a history with the judge… Just dumb, bad luck I wound up in front of her.”

  Now he laughed, a deep, whiskey sound that she once loved to hear. “What did you do to her?”

  “What makes you think I did anything?”

  He leaned back and gave a snort.

  “Fine.” She huffed. “She tried out for the cheerleading team in high school.”

  “No good?”

  “No room.”

  His smile faded. “So the past came back to bite you in the ass.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “Do you ever remember the good times or do you only remember the end?”

  This man was full of surprises today. “If you’d have asked me a month ago, I would have probably said the end.”

  “Not now?”

  She braced herself to face him, found his dark gaze watching her carefully, thoughtfully even. “No, not now. Ever since that night you told me we were okay. I’m not sure why that made any difference, but I’ve been remembering other times, too. We were friends once.”

  His gaze was steady. “We were.”

  “What do you remember, Charles? Anything good?”

  The question hung in the air, and for one crazy moment, she was struck by how much his answer mattered. She hated to think all he’d taken away from their marriage was feeling as if nothing he did was ever good enough when she hadn’t felt that way at all.

  “I remember everything, but it feels like the end.”

  There was something so wistful in that reply, in his expression, that the hurt actually stole her breath. She’d known he felt this way. How could she not when he’d been so openly hostile? So why did it feel like an open wound?

  “You said you felt like I didn’t care.”

  He nodded.

  “You don’t remember things at all the way I do.” She remembered talking to the back of his head when he strolled through their home either to or from the hospital. But he’d never stopped long enough to deal with things. How was she supposed to make choices when he wouldn’t talk? Why should the responsibility be all hers? What had she been supposed to think?

  That he didn’t care.

  “I felt that same way about you,” she admitted.

  “I felt like nothing I did was ever good enough. Not in the beginning, but toward the end. I was so busy at the hospital and you wanted more than I had to give. More time to be together, to be with our families and friends. More reassurance. But it was never enough. I didn’t think it would ever be.”

  “Bottomless pit was the term you used.”

  He exhaled hard. “Sorry.”

  “Not sure why. You obviously felt that way.” Why did she even care what he thought? This was the man who’d walked out the door and not looked back. He hadn’t cared when she’d finally served him with papers. She’d thought what they’d had was so special and he’d proven her so wrong.

  “Karan, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’m only now beginning to understand that when I felt pressured—by you, by work, by whatever—I didn’t deal with it. I suppose I was keeping things manageable for me at the time. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I’m not proud of the way I’ve acted. I hope you’ll accept my apology. Especially for being so brutal that night about the computer. I was way out of line.”

  She could not trust herself to reply. Not when he reached out and took her hand, held it between his, those skilled hands that could save lives, hands that could bring pleasure or reassurance or support.

  Could make her remember.

  And she did. The warmth of his firm touch, the way she’d once loved this man with all her heart.

  His grip tightened imperceptibly. His dark eyes caressed her face. “Are we good?”

  “We’re good.”

  He didn’t say anything else, just let his han
ds slide away as he got to his feet. Then he headed to the car. She watched him go, and she remembered this feeling, too.

  “Congratulations, Charles.” She got the words out on a whisper. “And good luck with the decision.”

  He opened the door and turned to her. She couldn’t miss the stark lines of his expression, the look in his eyes. He seemed as shaken as she was.

  “Thanks.” He got into the Jeep and took off.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  KARAN DIDN’T KNOW what was wrong with her. She sat on the top step, couldn’t bring herself to go inside, even though she was shivering, practically freezing despite her sweater. The cold was coming from inside. And she couldn’t bear to be in the house right now. It didn’t matter how often she redecorated, didn’t matter how hard she tried to purge the memories. It would always be their house.

  Why hadn’t she sold this place?

  She had cared. Even if Charles hadn’t felt that way. She’d cared so much. Had she even realized how much until watching him leave, driving off to make decisions about his career and his future? And why now? Was she like Charles? Had she been avoiding the difficulties, avoiding feeling?

  A tiny voice inside reminded her of the distance she’d only just realized was there, distance that was getting in the way of living. Had that distance kept her from showing Charles how much she really cared?

  The questions hammered at her until Karan could no longer sit still. But she couldn’t go inside. Not now. Not yet. She was too raw, the pain too fresh, which made no sense whatsoever.

  So she circled the house and walked along the lake, needing to keep moving, not caring that her Valentino thong sandals were seriously not meant for walking over slippery grass.

  Here she’d been blaming the men she’d been involved with. Jack had derailed their plans with a career change. Charles had flat-out emotionally abandoned her. Too many disappointments, so she’d married Patrick based on brand-new criteria. If they went into a marriage with clearly defined expectations, neither of them would be disappointed. But that wasn’t living. That was placing the distance between them on the table.

  And she’d been so comfortable.

  That relationship had been what she’d wanted.

  She’d wanted.

  Charles’s words struck her. I was so busy at the hospital and you wanted more than I had to give. More time to be together, to be with our families and friends. More reassurance. But it was never enough. I didn’t think it would ever be.

  There was that theme again. Her. Her. Her.

  What about Charles who’d been trying to keep up with his residency, responsible for people’s lives, running days on end with no sleep?

  Why couldn’t she ever remember thinking about him?

  It took two people to make a couple. She thought she’d understood that. Dr. and Mrs. Steinberg. The cardiothoracic surgeon and his supportive wife. But right now all she could see was the damage she’d done to her relationship.

  Her. Her. Her.

  Maybe Charles had been avoiding things, but she’d given him plenty to avoid.

  Karan hadn’t realized how far she’d walked until she was approaching a familiar boat dock. She’d walked home. The house she’d grown up in at any rate. The house hadn’t really felt like home since her father had died. But where else could she go?

  From home to New Hope.

  From New Hope to home.

  And she might run into Charles at New Hope.

  Karan stared at the boat dock, water lapping softly against the pilings, the narrow path that wound up to the house vanishing on the forested slope. She didn’t have to close her eyes to see her father, felt so close to him standing here in this place he’d loved.

  She missed him.

  Another glance at the stone path. It was still early yet. And her mother usually liked visits when she hadn’t had to issue an invitation.

  Karan felt better the minute the door opened and she was greeted by a smiling Abigail.

  “Karan, how nice to see you.” She spread those ample arms for a hug. “I was helping your mama get ready.”

  “She’s leaving? Maybe I should come back later.”

  “Oh, no. Come in. Come in.” She ushered Karan in. “The driver won’t be here for thirty minutes yet and she’s almost ready now. She’s in her room.”

  Karan followed the little housekeeper up the stairs. Abigail knocked on the door and introduced Karan with a singsongy, “Look who’s here.”

  Her mother was seated at her vanity, stunning in a one-shoulder lilac chiffon dress.

  “Hi, Mom. You look lovely.”

  Her mother glanced away from the mirror. “Karan. Which do you think?”

  She displayed a diamond drop earring and a platinum hoop.

  “Let me see.”

  Her mother tilted her face and alternately held up each earring.

  “The diamonds, I think. Bracelet, right?”

  Her mother nodded, scooping up a wide cuff of threaded platinum chains and tiny diamonds. “Vera Wang’s new collection.”

  “It’s gorgeous. The diamonds, definitely.”

  Her mother slipped the bracelet on, such a lovely piece on her slender wrist, a delicate piece for all its width, and then affixed an earring. She caught Karan’s gaze in the mirror.

  “This is an unexpected surprise,” she said. “Is everything all right? You look quite pale.”

  No, everything wasn’t all right. Not even remotely right. Her life was blowing up in her face and she’d thought that had already happened. “I’m fine, thanks. I was taking a walk around the lake and found myself here. Thought I’d pop in to say hi.”

  Her mother’s eyebrow arched in disbelief. “You walked?”

  Karan nodded. She wasn’t about to go down the lack-of-driving-privileges road with her mother. “It’s gorgeous out.”

  “Just like your father.” Her mother turned her attention to the earrings.

  Abigail winked before slipping out of the room. Karan sat in a boudoir chair, still feeling shaky now the adrenaline from her walk was wearing off.

  “So where are you off to tonight?”

  “Engagement party for the Talbots’ daughter. Nice man. He’s in finance. First wedding for them both.” She let that pass. Hardly a fair comparison since the Talbots’ daughter was a good five years younger than Karan. “That’s nice. Where are they having the party?”

  “The Inn at Laurel Lake. Her side of the family. They’ve got another party scheduled in the Hamptons for his.”

  “The Inn is always nice. Beautiful this time of year.” Her last visit for the senator’s fundraiser aside, of course.

  “I’m hardly excited, Karan, but short of a death in the family there was simply no polite way to excuse myself. The Talbots have attended all your events.”

  Karan’s events preceding her wedding to Charles, anyway. Her wedding to Patrick had been an intimate destination affair much more suited to a second wedding. “The Talbots are lovely, Mom. Why aren’t you excited? You love parties.”

  The instant the words were out of her mouth, Karan knew they were a mistake. Her mother’s beautiful face froze with a look of such deep disapproval that Karan could feel a responding anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

  “Tell me. Exactly what should I find exciting about a night where I’m going to have to make excuses for you every time someone asks me what my daughter is up to? Two divorces weren’t enough. Now you’ve had to publicize your disgrace.”

  “I don’t understand. How have I publicized anything?”

  Her mother rose from the chair in a fluid motion that sent chiffon swirling around her. “I’m talking about making phone calls to everyone we know soliciting their help for that domestic violence shelter. You might as well have taken out a full-page advertisement announcing your court-ordered community service. What’s next? Are you going to show up wearing one of those alcohol detection devices around your ankle?”

  She could overlook her mother’s
melodrama. That wasn’t anything new. But Karan couldn’t overlook the fact that her entire life had boiled down to sitting in her mother’s bedroom watching the grand dame put on a rousing display, looking for something she was never going to find here.

  She wanted to feel better.

  And she’d come here.

  Because there had been no place else to go.

  “Mother.” She tried to sound conciliatory, but her voice sounded weak and resigned. “You don’t have to share what’s going on in my life. Say I’m doing volunteer work for the new shelter. You can tell anyone who’s interested I’m hosting events to raise funds for a good cause. It’s the truth.”

  “I can sugarcoat your predicament all I want, but everyone knows why you’re involved with New Hope. Marjorie Talbot is so proud of her daughter. She got a law degree and has been recruiting volunteers for the guardian ad litem program in the city. That’s how she met her fiancé. Let’s hope their marriage lasts longer than either of yours. Your father and I were married for forty years. I honestly don’t know where you got your penchant for divorce.”

  Dad had to die to get away. The words almost came out. Almost. It took every ounce of will to keep her mouth shut tight. She could not engage in this. Not right now. The temporary satisfaction of defending herself never outweighed the guilt that came afterward.

  Karan stood, clutched the chair when her legs felt rubbery beneath her. “I hope you have a nice time at the engagement party.”

  “Karan—”

  She heard her name but nothing else as she headed through the door into the hall and down the stairs, her thongs slapping gently on each marble step.

  She slipped through the front door before Abigail could make it out of the kitchen. Karan didn’t want to face anyone right now, not even kind Abigail who would understand better than anyone the effects of her mother’s annoyance.

  Winding her way around the rear of the house, Karan walked straight out to the boat dock. She sank to her knees, feeling so unsteady. Her chest felt tight and her head light and her stomach queasy. She willed herself to calm down, sat there trying to lose herself in the picturesque surroundings, in the gentle motion of the water rippling with the breeze, the lengthening shadows of the forest in the fading daylight.