by Tasha Fawkes
"Think again, doofus," I said to window of my apartment, looking out to the backside of the other apartments. The place was a disaster. It looked like a tornado had gone through here, and believe you me, I've seen the havoc a tornado can cause. The walls were still standing but everything else? Boxes. Clothes. Kitchen accessories, bathroom towels.
Mess.
So no, it had been nearly three weeks since the termination of the contract. That was better, wasn't it? I smirked. Closer to the truth? I didn't want to go over and over it again in my head but I couldn't help it. Round and round I went, unable to shut the memories, the thoughts, the emotions, down. We were never really together, not formally anyway. As a result of the termination of the contract, I had decided that a change of scenery was once again warranted. Not so much running away from heartbreak this time as starting over. Again. For the first few days after the… after Karen told me that whatever it was we had, was a mistake, I had been angrier and more discouraged than hurt. After that had come the hurt. The disappointment. The what ifs? Karen, once I had gotten to know her, was a fascinating, interesting, and dynamic individual. A pain in the ass. A challenge to the concept of patience. Sometimes, she was, to put it quite bluntly, a bitchy bitch. One that I would've enjoyed taking weeks and months to explore to even greater depths.
I felt that Karen and I had made a connection. A deep, genuine, and emotional connection. I knew that she had felt it too, perhaps not in words, or even in her consciousness, but she had begun showing more of her unguarded self around me with every interaction we had. When she relaxed, when she let that barrier down, started chiseling away at that brick wall she had built up around herself, I had only begun to peer into the depths of her truly complex character.
Yes, Karen Queen had grown up spoiled and pampered. She had a strong sense of entitlement. She had grown up believing that she could have anything she wanted, when she wanted it, and how she wanted it. Until recently, I don't think that she realized that what she wanted most was something that money couldn't buy.
Corny but true.
To make it all worse, I had learned that she was - once again - going through an arranged marriage to Ryan Delaney. During a visit home, I found out from my mom, who had heard it from the friend who had told her about Karen in the first place. While the woman nor my mother realized or knew the truth that the marriage had been arranged, I did. I think that hurt most of all. Was money really that important to her? Did she really think that she could live without it? It wasn't like I was destitute. I think it was more than that. When it came right down to it, she was afraid of losing what little she had of her parent's affections. She was afraid of what life would be like without all the stuff she'd gotten used to having at the snap of a finger. But still, it was even more than that. Poor Karen Queen had never learned how to stand on her own two feet.
I could've shown her. I could have shown her that you could love someone without bossing them around, or ordering or bribing them to behave the way you wanted them to, or else. She had a temper, no doubt about it, but she had learned to tone it down a little. To be more accepting, at least around me. It had also taken me days to process the fact that yes, I had believed that I could change her. Not change her into something that I wanted her to be. I wasn't about to mold her into something different – something that I wanted her to be. What I mean when talking about change was in the sense that there was so much more in the world than New York City, outrageously expensive apartments, fine dining, spa treatments, and partying. I had thought that Karen was beginning to realize that. I guess I was wrong.
And then there was the other thing. Coming clean with my parents, which I felt compelled to do after my mom told me about Karen's announced engagement to the Delaney guy. The weekend after Karen called off our arrangement, I had gone to my parents and that's where I had learned the news about the announcement. I hadn't intended to say anything other than the two of us just hadn't clicked as well as I thought we had.
But when Mom told me about the engagement, shaking her head, frowning with disappointment, disapproval, and even anger at the way she treated me, I felt I needed to speak up. Not exactly like I was defending Karen, but myself as well. And so it was then that I sat them down on the couch and told them everything. Everything from the moment I sat in the pews in the church at Daniel Stone's wedding to the moment that Karen stood up at the point where the preacher said to speak up now or forever hold your peace. I told them that at that moment, I had been captivated.
"You should've seen her." I half-chuckled, shaking my head, in my mind's eye seeing her standing there in the middle of a wedding ceremony, her face flushed with emotion. "I couldn't believe it. The atrocity, the belligerence, and at the time, true emotion." Then it clicked. "And you know what? I think most of all, she was crying out for something that she didn't even realize she needed. For understanding. Perhaps even love. I honestly don't think she felt as much betrayed by Daniel as she did by her own parents, and that her outburst was as much railing against herself as it was against the unfairness of it all."
"While I certainly don't approve of such behavior, I have to admit, it did take some courage to do that," Dad said.
I nodded. "Anyway, I followed her to a neighborhood bar, bought her a drink, and that was it," I said. I certainly wasn't going to tell them that after we got drunk, we engaged in passionate, invigorating sex. "But a couple of days later, she called me, asked me to meet her at a coffee shop, and that's where the plan was born."
"Why didn't she just tell her parents to stay out of her life? To let her find her own husband?"
I glanced at mom, smiling softly. "I asked her that very question. To be honest, I think she's afraid of losing the lifestyle she's used to. A lifestyle that I certainly can’t give her. And even more so, of losing the tenuous, if lacking, relationship with her parents." I shook my head. "I don't think Karen ever learned how to be self-sufficient or self-confident. She's afraid to lose her tether. She's afraid to let go and take a chance on herself."
"She looked happy with you," Dad said.
I glanced at him, surprised. "Do you really think so? I sometimes wonder. I was stupid to believe that I could change her, or alter her perceptions, what I put myself through to be with her, but then…"
"Then it became real, didn't it, honey?"
I looked at mom and nodded. "Until she ended it, I didn't realize, not deeply enough, how much I enjoyed being around her. At first, she was nothing more than what I thought she was. A spoiled, pampered bi-- brat. But the more we hung out, the more I began to see the real her. A woman with dreams and aspirations." I shook my head. "I guess it doesn't really matter what I saw. She's willing to throw all her dreams aside to please her parents and to keep her hands on a bunch of money." I frowned, the frustration, the hurt and the sense of unfairness of it all surging upward. "Well, I hope she's happy with that Delaney fellow, which I know she won't be. As her mother told her, marriage doesn't necessarily require affection or emotion, and plus, she still has a fat bank account, so I guess that's all that really matters."
"Are you going to be all right, Ben?”
Again, I glanced at mom and caught her expression of concern. I knew they were worried about me. This was my second go-round of being dumped. I was always the nice guy, the one who played it safe, who stayed on the path, settling for less than the best for myself, thinking that if I was patient enough, things would happen in their own good time. I also knew that being true to oneself is the only path to true happiness, and I had done that with Karen. I hadn't put on any front, any masks or costumes – between us, I mean. What Karen saw in me was the true me. If she didn't want it, well, that was her loss.
"Yeah." I nodded, figuring that now was the time to say it. "Well, I've decided that once again, I need to get my life back on track. Meet my goals, achieve what I want to achieve, and it's not going to happen in New York City. It's painfully obvious to me now that my boss will continue to take advantage and the
re's really nothing I can do about it. So I've decided to make a change."
I caught the glance that passed between my parents. My mother frowned. I saw the instant disappointment she felt at the thought that I would once again be moving.
"Where you going to go?" she asked softly.
"Not too far," I shrugged. "Chicago." I saw the alarmed look flash across her face. "It's not that far. Only a four-hour flight. I've got some feelers out, and an interview next week. I'll be coming to visit, don't worry." Again, I saw a look pass between my parents and this time, I frowned. "What? What is it?"
She hesitated, then glanced at Dad. He replied. "For a while now, your mom and I have been thinking of moving back to Oklahoma. It's nice here and all that, but… it's just not the same."
Now that surprised me. I hadn't had any idea that either of them were not one-hundred percent happy here in Connecticut. Nevertheless, more than ever, I was touched by their love for me. I knew that they had come to the northeast to make sure I would be okay, and I didn't want to put them through that worry again. I smiled. A little forced maybe, but confident.
"You guys don't need to worry about me like that, you know? I'll be fine. I can't say I'm not disappointed at how things turned out, but I'm okay. Really. I'm just thinking that maybe a new location will rev my engines a little more, you know, to not just settle, but to seriously go after what I want."
Dad nodded. "It's good to hear that, son, and I'm proud of you. But you know that it's not how much money you make or how many rungs of the ladder you climb that make you successful." He tapped his chest. "It's what's in here that counts the most. Don't ever forget that."
It had been a good, cleansing, conversation. Instead of casting judgment on me, or Karen, they had offered nothing but encouragement and support. Now, as I finish packing up the last of my things into boxes to be shipped to Chicago, I felt only a brief moment of uncertainty. I knew I would miss them, but I knew between phone conversations and occasional visits, things would work out just fine.
It was thoughts of Karen that disturbed me the most. How could she settle like this? Considering that she was going to go ahead with the joke of a marriage to Ryan Delaney only reinforced how stupid I had been to think that she would ever change. Maybe she was too old to change. I had to be honest with myself. I could never have afforded to give her the life that she was accustomed to, and couldn't really blame her for choosing financial security and a loveless, empty marriage over an uncertain financial future – even if she had begun to develop feelings for me.
I think I had run through the gamut of emotions when it came to Karen. Tossing the last of my T-shirts from the dresser drawer into a cardboard box, I had to smile. I couldn't hate her, couldn't even really be angry with her, not for very long anyway. I felt sorry for her, but that was on her, not me. I would always remember her, that was for sure. What a dynamic, challenging, and incredibly complex individual!
A few days after I had gotten back to my apartment after the visit with my parents, after they had broken the news of her engagement to Ryan Delaney, I had resisted the urge to call her, to ask her why she was once again going through yet another merger marriage, as her mom called it, to someone she didn't care about.
Then again, maybe she had learned a few things from our relationship. Maybe she could eventually come to care for her new husband. And he for her. I shook my head in denial even as I thought it.
A few days after that, I did. I did do it. I called her. I was certain that she was going to answer, or even if she still had me on her phone's contact and caller ID list, but I would just leave her voicemail, wish her the best… she answered.
"Hello, Ben."
Her voice sounded soft. Resigned? "Hi Karen," I said. "I just wanted you to know that I enjoyed getting to know you a little bit." That was true. She said nothing. "Anyway, I wish you the best, okay?"
A long silence, so long that I thought the call had been disconnected. "Hello?"
"I'm here, Ben," she said. Her voice broke. "I'm sorry things have to be this way, but it is for the best."
Best for you, I thought. "Anyway, I'll let you go. I can imagine you're quite busy making plans and all. I just wanted you to know that… I want you to know, Karen, that you can be yourself. That you can do the things you want to do. Don't let your parents hold you back. Don't let Ryan hold you back. Be the person who you were meant to be."
"I don't even know who that is," she murmured.
"I think you do," I said. "And I wish you the best." I hesitated and then ended it. "Goodbye, Karen. Have a good life."
I disconnected the call. I felt a little better. There was a stupid word that everybody used these days. Closure. Was there really such a thing? What I felt now was not necessarily closure, because it's not like I could erase the time we had spent together from my mind, like one would close a book and put it back on the shelf. I would always remember Karen, sometimes with frustration, sometimes with laughter, and sometimes with impatient annoyance. But remember her I would.
As the days passed, I realized just how much of an impact Karen Queen had had on me. Actually, while I had acknowledged that I was growing increasingly fond of her, I didn't expect this sense of loneliness that I felt with her loss. It hit me one day, all of a sudden. I hadn't felt particularly lonely the first time I had gotten dumped, back there in Oklahoma, but I did remember feeling very angry and betrayed.
While I wanted to feel a sense of betrayal about how Karen had ended it all, I realized that I didn't. Maybe it's because we'd never really had a chance to acknowledge our growing feelings for one another. Or at least mine for her. It was obvious to me that her feelings toward me were not quite the same. Nevertheless, as the days passed, I realized that what I had interpreted as anger was nothing more than annoying disappointment.
A disappointment that I wouldn't be spending more time with her, enjoying the feeling I gained when I saw her smile, or when she experienced something new for the first time. I had a feeling there would be a lot of those in Karen's future, if she allowed it. And as the days passed and I began to pack, I also had to admit to myself that her leaving me, well, I hadn't expected it to hurt so much. I felt… dismal. That's about all I could think of, and it was depressing. Why was I moping around, literally turning in circles with what to do now, where to go, and how to proceed?
And then, two days later, standing in the shower with the hot water pounding down on my back, I realized the reason. I had fallen in love with her. Without expecting to, without meaning to, and without even wanting to, I had somehow allowed Karen to get under my skin. I had fallen in love with that crazy, insensitive, closed-off woman, a total opposite of me, and yet it happened.
But it was too late now, wasn't it? Karen had made her decision, and whether I liked it or not, she would move on. With Ryan Delaney. In the past, most among those who knew Karen – or thought they did - would pity the man who would marry her. But if I'd gotten a chance, believe you me, I would've felt myself a pretty darn lucky guy. She wasn't boring, that was for sure.
Karen wasn't like other women. In fact, she wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before. She was like an onion, and I had begun to delight in peeling away the layers to try and get down to the core of exactly who Karen Queen truly was. I don't even think she knew. But like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, I bet that if she got half a chance, she'd surprise people. Unfortunately, because she had continued to obey her parents' wishes, and was going along with yet another arranged marriage. Because I had a feeling that no one would be standing up in the middle of the church halting the ceremony at the part the preacher asked the speak now or forever hold your peace part, well, I guess that's it.
Chapter 19
Karen
I sat in my apartment, staring out the window, thinking that I would miss my place. Most of all, I missed Ben. How had it happened? How could you fall in love with someone and not even know it? Until it was too late. Since the phone call I had gotten from him near
ly three weeks ago, I had been trying to get in touch with him, feeling an odd and inexorable, and probably foolish urge to tell him the truth about how I felt about him before I… before I got married to Ryan.
What a mess. Ryan was okay. Just okay. Barely. He didn't seem any more interested in me as a wife than I did him as a husband. Well, maybe that wasn't quite true. He was interested in one thing. Sex. I knew that for sure, based on his over exuberant touchy feely behavior when we were alone. Of course, I hadn't let him. I actually felt sick to my stomach at the thought. For him, he was getting a package deal with me. Marrying into a well-known, supposedly well-to-do family with political connections throughout the northeast. Plus, he was getting an attractive and sexy woman to marry to boot. I wasn't going to deny that, because I knew it was true. I was attractive, and I could be very sexy, when I wanted.
But when Ryan leaned closer to kiss me after a dinner "date with my parents, or when he dropped me off in a cab after taking me out to dinner at one of New York's finest restaurants, I cringed. Inwardly of course. I didn't want his hands touching me. I didn't want his lips touching mine. I wanted Ben's, but that wasn't going to happen, was it? I'd ruined everything and now I could look forward to a loveless marriage, just like my mom had. I could look forward to a wealthy lifestyle - Ryan's parents were filthy rich - multi-billionaires, even though I wasn't quite sure how his family had gotten their money. I suppose it didn't matter.
At any rate, I had wanted to talk to Ben, to tell him how I really felt about him. Why? What did it matter? Would he even care? I don't know, but I had to get it off my chest. I had to tell him that he was a good guy, that any woman would be lucky to have him. That this woman was too stupid to realize that before... and that it wasn't his fault.
"What are you thinking?"
I jolted out of my reverie and turned to Courtney, sitting on the other end of the sofa, staring at me. "I was thinking I was going to miss this place." She made a face, kind of between a grimace of disbelief and amusement.
