by Tasha Fawkes
I sat, stunned, not expecting such an abrupt shutdown. What was she talking about? Had the sex just been sex to her? Had I imagined our emotional connection, the softening of her heart? Had I imagined it all? I sat in dumbfounded silence as she continued, rushing forward, as if knowing if she stopped, she wouldn't get it all out.
"I don't feel anything for you, Ben, at least not like I'm sensing you feel toward me. Besides, a relationship between us would never work out." She spoke softly. "You understand that, don't you? We come from totally different places, and I'm not just speaking geographically."
She spoke with firm resolve. This wasn't at all the response I was expecting. How had I completely misread her cues? Once again, it appears I'd screwed things up. "Am I moving too fast for you? Is that it?" Maybe I was pushing too hard. I mentally kicked myself, realizing that after the fiasco with Daniel Stone, and who knows what other kind of arrangements made by her parents, that she would be slow to warm up to an actual, real, romantic relationship.
"Ben, it's not—"
"I'll tell you what," I interrupted. "Just forget what I just said, okay?"
She shook her head. "I can't." She swallowed and looked off toward the lake.
So that was it? Nothing more? No explanation, no feeling, no nothing? I frowned but then realized. She was afraid of her real relationship. Perhaps she was even afraid after the relationship with her former fiancé that her parents had forced her into. She knew how to play her part, that much I knew because the engagement with Daniel had lasted some time, down to the point of arranging their own wedding. She glanced down at her lap, fidgeting with imaginary lint or something on her pants.
My dismay gave way to a soft anger. "Aren't you tired of being told how to live your life?" That caught her attention. She glanced at me, and finally, I saw a flash of emotion.
"What are you talking about?"
"Has hanging out with me really been so bad?"
"No," she said.
"Then what's the problem?"
Again she looked off to the lake. "It's hard to explain."
"I don't think it's hard to explain at all." I said nothing for several moments, and then ventured a guess. "Your parents found out that this was nothing but a farce, didn't they?" To my surprise, I saw a brief sheen of tears in her eyes before she blinked them back. I was right. "So you're going to continue to let them tell you how to live your life? Who to date? Who to marry?"
She glanced at me again, her face red with emotion. "Don't you dare suggest that it's all about money, Ben, because it isn't. My parents--"
"It is about money," I said quietly. "I come from the wrong side of the tracks, don't I? I don't have a bulging bank account. I work for a living. I don't live in a fancy house, I don't have—"
"Damnit, Ben! Don't make this harder than it already is, all right?"
I shook my head, growing increasingly annoyed. I thought she had changed. I thought I had been a good influence on her, that perhaps… "Karen, don't you think it's about time you did something for yourself? Something that makes you happy, and not just your parents? You told me once that you had always wanted to work in a museum. For once, why don't you do something that you want to do? Whether it's going out with me or finding a job, you need to grow up and stand on your own two feet. You need to—"
"Quit telling me what I need to do!" she snapped. "Quit trying to save me or whatever it is the hell you're trying to do."
I glanced down at the picnic, my hopes dashed, but I certainly wasn't going to grovel. At least not in front of her. Not now. Karen had obviously made her choice. I was stunned. So much for trying to bend over backward to please her, to show her that life could be just as enjoyable, just as filled with contentment without money as it could with billions of dollars in a bank account.
I was wrong about her. I had hoped… but that was all over now. "I'm sorry you feel that way," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. "Because I was having fun. I believed I was getting to know the real Karen Queen. And you know what? I liked her. I liked her a lot."
Karen said nothing but slowly stood. "It has to be this way. I don't expect you to understand, but I do expect you to respect my decision."
Tamping down my frustration, I simply shrugged and nodded. "Sure, Karen. No hard feelings. You go your way and I'll go mine." I forced a false grin. "And who knows? Maybe we'll bump into each other one of these days."
She nodded, and blinking rapidly, quickly stood, offered a halfhearted wave of goodbye, then turned her back and walked out of the park. I turned around, the picnic basket beside me forgotten, and looked toward the lake, watching the sun glint off the water. My gaze passed over the fountain atop Cherry Hill and beyond, down toward the mall and Sheep Meadow, crowded with families and couples and joggers enjoying the warmth of the day. And I tried not to be angry, not to be bitter. Was I heartbroken? No, I wasn't, I told myself, but then I realized that I had not quite succeeded in guarding my heart against such a rejection. But the rejection was so sudden and unexpected. I was disappointed. I couldn't lie about that. Disappointed in Karen. Why couldn't she stand up to her parents? Was it just about money? She had never been out on her own, had never been out from under her parent's thumbs. At least I didn't think so. How could someone live like that? Yes, my own parents lived nearby, but they let me live, to make my own mistakes and hopefully learn from them. I had learned over the past couple of years to be extremely wary when it came to relationships, and even more so when it came to getting my hopes up in regard to my relationship with Karen. I thought I had been cautious.
I was a fool - a fool to think that someone like Karen would fall for a guy like me, one who couldn't offer anything that she was used to in life. Except maybe true, genuine, heartfelt affection. Maybe, someday, if things had gone further, she would have understood that love was worth more than a million bucks… who was I kidding? Maybe it wasn't, not to Karen Queen.
I finally stood, folded the blanket, draped it over my arm, and then picked up the picnic basket. Well, at least I had supper for tonight. I kept trying to tell myself that I wasn't angry as I slowly walked out of the park, taking the same path that Karen had. When I reached seventy-second, I walked the short distance, wading against the flow of foot traffic, ignoring the curious glances of passersby as they saw the blanket and picnic basket, before I finally gave up and raised my hand for a taxi.
Shit. What a screwed up mess I had made of things. I never should've agreed to this wacky plan in the first place. I was the one who had expected too much. Who did I think I was anyway, telling myself that I was showing Karen a part of a world that she might want to belong to? A world of more simplicity, genuineness, and intimacy?
The first thing I would do when I got home was get rid of all those stupid clothes that she had insisted I wear to play the part when meeting her parents or her friends. I guess one visit with her parents was all it had taken for them to realize I was nothing but a phony. But you know what? I still have my dignity. I'm glad that I hadn't allowed Karen to talk me into doing anything that would border on the illegal.
By the time I got home to my apartment, closed the door, and placed the picnic basket on the kitchen counter, I admitted that it was useless to keep trying to fool myself. I was more than disappointed. I was sad at how things had panned out. My affection for Karen had not been phony. I might've misread her signals, and maybe I was naïve to think that she felt something for me, but it was more than apparent to me now, standing in my dingy apartment, that she felt I wasn't important enough, worthy enough, or rich enough to suit her.
So to hell with it. To hell with Karen Queen, to hell with my job, to hell with this crappy apartment that cost an arm and a leg. Maybe it was time to start over. Maybe, once again, it was time to seek greener pastures. Frankly, I was sick of New York and its anonymity, it's clear delineation between the haves and the have-nots. If Karen couldn't see the truth standing in front of her face, well, there was nothing I could do about it, could I?
Karen
Oh my God, it was happening again. It was like that movie, Groundhog Day. How had I allowed this to happen? Again? The wedding to Ryan Delaney was in two weeks. Two weeks! I was miserable. Completely and utterly miserable. Even more, I was ashamed at myself. I was a weak, spineless coward. Why was I such a coward? Why was I allowing this to happen again? Would I never learn?
I missed Ben. I missed the simplicity, his genuineness. That day at the park, I had been deeply touched that he'd gone to so much trouble. It was just a stupid picnic, but he'd gone to a lot of trouble to make the food, to pick out the spot… when was the last time a guy had ever used such imagination when dating me? Never. Not once had I ever been wooed at a picnic. And then, seeing it, I had gotten annoyed with him.
I had ended up blaming him for my own yellow streak, my inability to just stand up to my parents. To tell them to go fuck off… but that seemed a bit extreme. I didn't hate my parents. No matter what, I loved them, even if they didn't love me in the way I wished they did. Maybe they had never learned how. But after spending time with Ben, seeing how his parents were together, I had seen a glimpse of the 'other side' of what a relationship could be.
I had grown annoyed because he had seen the truth. My truth. That I had always allowed my parents to control me. I hadn't fooled Ben a bit. And then I accused him of trying to change me and who I was. The fact that I didn't like what I had become was beside the point.
What made everything seem even worse – that made me feel worse - was that my mother was almost giddy today, discussing the final arrangements for the upcoming wedding. There was to be no long engagement this time. No protracted courtship, no chance for any blunders on my part. Not that I had blundered when it came to Daniel. It wasn't my fault he'd fallen for one of his editors. Of course, I hadn't loved Daniel, not really, any more than I felt anything for Ryan. I had pretended I did, and had almost convinced myself of it as well.
I know that my parents were still upset with me for what they called my "foolish plan" of presenting Ben to them as a suitable partner. I should've known I would never get away with it. I had hoped that presenting him to my parents would buy me some time, some time to think, to figure out what to do, but it'd only prompted them to become increasingly suspicious of my every move. It'd caused them to rapidly accelerate this so-called "engagement" even to the point where they didn't seem to care that tongues would wag, that gossip would travel through their beloved circle of friends and acquaintances like wildfire.
I wondered if anybody knew about my parent's dire financial situation. Nothing was kept secret for long, not in New York City. Everyone seemed to eventually find the dirt on anyone. It was too bad that my mom was more excited about going over the final wedding arrangements than I was. Actually, I felt sick to my stomach watching her sign papers, make decisions, exclaim over floral arrangements, menus, and catering stuff. I turned to look at her, for the first time trying to see her as a person other than "mom".
We sat at a large desk in the wedding planner's office, all alone for the moment. I blurted the question before I even realized I was going to ask it.
"Mom?" She turned toward me. "Have you ever loved Dad?”
She appeared startled by the question, her eyes widening briefly, before she frowned and made a tsking sound.
"Karen, of all the questions to ask. Why don't you focus your attention on the table settings we've narrowed down?"
I couldn't let it go. "If you never did, or if you don't, why would you want the same for me?"
She carefully placed the fabric swatches down onto the desk in front of us, one a dark maroon, the other a royal blue. She looked at me, her expression composed, blank, emotionless.
"Don't hit impertinent with me, Karen. You know that your father and I are doing what we feel is best for you."
I opened my mouth to protest but she held up a hand.
"I know you don't agree, but it's true. You've grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle. You know it and we know it. Why deny it? Your father told me about that young man's apartment and where it was located—"
"His name is Ben, Mother."
"Fine… Ben," she said, waving a hand. "Are you truly willing to give up your apartment for something like that? Seriously?"
I didn't answer.
"I didn't think so. There's nothing wrong with having a plump bank account, for being able to go out and buy something you want, to not be left wanting. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
I said nothing. She didn't understand.
"Ryan will make a very good match for you. A smart match. He's handsome, he comes from a good family, he's educated, and he's got world experience. And what does this Ben have? A mediocre job? A ratty old apartment? A questionable background?"
"This has nothing to do with me, and you know it," I said, gesturing at the fabric swatches. "The least you could do is admit it. You chose Daniel for me because of his bank account, you're doing the same with Ryan. We both know it."
"And?" she asked, eyebrow lifted.
For the first time I was shocked at my mom’s obvious callousness. This couldn't be the first time I'd seen it. However, it could be the first time that I'd ever truly acknowledged it. And at that moment, a flush of emotion surged through me. "I'm not interested in just money, anymore, Mom. I'm not really that interested in you holding money over my head, or the fact that this is yet another attempt at a merger marriage is for my sake. We both know that it's for yours."
Her frown deepened. "Don't get snippy with me, Karen."
My voice broke. "Or what? You'll threaten to take my apartment away? My allowance? My inheritance?" I shook my head. "Don't you realize that I probably broke Ben's heart? That—"
"And whose fault is that, Karen?" she interrupted. "You're the one who started all this. You're the one who led him along, not us—"
I forged ahead. She was right, but I felt I needed to defend him. "He's a sweet guy, and probably one that I don't even deserve. He may be a poor working guy, a guy from Oklahoma, but I'll tell you one thing, Mom. He's got more than I have ever had, and more than I probably ever will." I choked down my tears. "So I hope you're happy."
She stared at me for several moments, then finally spoke. "All right, now that you've gotten that out of your system, can we continue?"
Numb inside, I realized that maybe all this was inevitable, maybe even for the best. And I was right. Ben didn't deserve someone like me. He deserved someone who could truly appreciate everything that he had to offer. Who could love him without question.
I was afraid. I was afraid of losing my inheritance, of eking out a living, living from paycheck to paycheck. Could even true love make up for that kind of life? Could I, Karen Queen, spoiled little rich girl, ever be content with anything less?
Maybe being with Ryan would be easier. He came from my world, but I know he didn't love me anymore than I loved him. My God, we were still strangers to one another. I had no expectations from him. This was just another match made by my parents. He wasn't an ogre, it wasn't that. But for him, marriage to me would be marrying into a well-known and established family, one which hearkened back to the origins of New York society, a Mayflower family. The prestige of that was hard for some to turn away from. But it didn't make me feel like I was anything more than a goal, a possession, a step up the political ladder. A means to an end.
At that moment, I recognized the truth. I wasn't valued by Ryan, not the way I was valued by Ben. As my mom continued to examine fabric swatches, muttering softly to herself, effectively ignoring me, I replayed nearly every moment of my time spent with Ben. It might've been short, but it definitely made an impression. From that first sight of him sliding up to me at the bar, grinning at my audacity, standing up in the middle of a church and screaming my fool head off, he had made quite an impression. His good looks, his great body, the amazing sex, but even so, it was more than that. I remembered every moment of dinner at his parent's h
ouse, seeing for the first time what a real family was like. A family who would overcome the deepest of losses and yet held together.
He had made me laugh, had made me look deep inside, had encouraged me, and shown me how much of life I truly missed out on. Life had to be more than clubbing, shopping, and spending money, and it had taken Ben to show me that. But now it was too late, wasn't it? It was my fault, the position I found myself in. It was my fault I was sitting here, in the wedding planner's office, watching my mother decide on what color tablecloths to choose for a wedding to a man I didn't love. I had fooled myself into thinking that I loved Daniel Stone, but after having spent time with Ben, enjoying his company, and… well, I realized that I had never been in love before.
Not until Ben. And now it was too late.
He may not have money, but he made me feel like a real person. He saw me beneath the surface that I tried so hard to portray. I also knew what I wanted, more than anything at this moment. It wasn't money, and it wasn't my fancy apartment. It was Ben.
I wanted Ben.
Chapter 18
Ben
It had been nearly three weeks since the breakup. I grunted an only half-amused, bitter chuckle. What was I talking about? It hadn't been a breakup. I don't think what Karen and I had would ever have been described as 'traditional' dating, or perhaps even a relationship, at least not in the normal sense of the term. Still, it had been something. Something that I was actually missing more than I thought I would.
In the beginning, when this ploy of hers was first put into action, I anxiously awaited the day when it would end. Now? I forced myself to admit it. I had been caught in her web. That dark and twisty web, the conundrum that defined Karen Queen. I had just scratched the surface to the real Karen and I was disappointed – and yes, hurt – that I hadn't gotten any further before she slammed the door shut in my face.
