It seems like there should be so much more to say but she can’t decide if she wants to hear it. It wasn’t just a kiss. They both know that now and they can’t go back to pretending that they don’t. Maybe that should be enough.
So she’s almost angry when he keeps talking instead.
“She was engaged. It was a month before her wedding.”
“What?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Who?”
“Roy.”
“What?”
“I know.”
“And you kissed her? A month before her wedding?”
“I didn’t plan for it. It just happened.”
“God. It really wasn’t just a kiss.”
He doesn’t respond and she counts out another three miles.
“Why now?”
“She told him. Tonight. And I guess he got violent and smashed up the bar, and now, apparently the whole office is worried for my safety. Which is just awesome.”
“Is she okay?
“C’mon, is that really what you are thinking about right now?”
“Don’t be an asshole. Seriously? fuck you. What do you think I am? Because as messed up or weird as it is, I genuinely like her as a person and I sincerely hate violent men. Oh, and also, basically you are telling me because I was going to find out anyway. Here I thought you were just being honest. So thanks.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Yeah she’s ok. And no, I already knew after tonight it was time for honesty. I guess this just gets to be my excuse for telling you now what I’m realizing you should have already known.”
“And she’s not married.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“So, why? Why this then?”
“She called off the wedding and never told me. I figured it was all unrelated. I don’t know. I don’t really want to talk about that.”
“What, how you used me? Was I just a rebound for you? What the fuck Jim? I’m not meant to be used as a human shield.”
She’s probably lying, she could be meant to be used that way, because she can picture herself made entirely of stone, using a human shield of flesh to hide her cracks. But then the next second she thinks maybe not because she feels soft and still a little misshapen underneath and stone shouldn’t feel that way.
“I wasn’t trying to use you. Karen, believe me. This is different, and I wanted something different. I wanted to make things work with you. I didn’t think it would be possible for me to like someone else, after four years of her, and I met you and I did. I honestly thought it had to be just a kiss. I thought I wanted it to be just a kiss.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I don’t know. I did for awhile.”
They fall back into silence until she can’t help it. It starts in her stomach and spreads throughout so that finally she’s laughing uncontrollably, half in noisy gulps, half in silent shudders. It’s ridiculous, the whole thing, the two of them, their deliberate experiments in change. He stares at her oddly first and then with increasing concern, until, gasping, she gets out “What is wrong with me? Because what’s really fucked up is that this is still the best, healthiest relationship I’ve ever had.”
He snorts at that but then slowly his laughter creeps out in sharp bursts until finally he has no choice but to pull over the car. “Wow, me too. Man Fillipelli, maybe we are perfect for each other.”
At that she kind of wants to slap him but instead can only laugh harder. He shakes his head, hands over his eyes and forehead resting on the steering wheel.
“He cheated on me, with his ex, that smirking wife.”
“Oh. Oh jesus. I’m such an asshole.”
“Yeah, well so am I. I’ve been so mad at you for never asking, for never needing to know. But I never tried to tell you. And I never really let you tell me either. Maybe I liked being the victim.”
“Me too. I think I have too.”
“I want to be better than that.”
“You are.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
She should probably be angier still but the relief at honesty is eating away at the anxiety and she is beginning to feel light instead. He leans over to brush away the laughter tears from her eyes and she grabs his hand, giving it a squeeze. They both meet in the middle and their last kiss tastes like most couples’ first. It’s only when they pull away that she can taste the regret.
“Can you just drive me home now?”
“Okay.”
“You have things…”
“But-“
“No, just no. A lot of us might be my fault but the rest of this is yours. Enough is enough. Okay? And I don’t really want to see your face right now anyway.”
***
She spends the rest of the night sitting on her couch in the dark, drinking wine in her underwear. She’s surprised that she doesn’t really feel the need to cry and when she does it’s more for the ending rather than the loss.
In the dark it is easier for her to see her options. She’s debating the meaning of ending, trying to make it sound a little less like failure and a little more like progress. It might just be the end of the first bottle feeling but its actually almost working.
The saddest part of a broken heart isn’t the ending so much as the start.
She suspects he doesn’t need something different, never did, he just needs what he always almost had.
***
Author's Chapter Notes:
Karen's POV post Cocktail. This is the second to last chapter and is probably what most of you were waiting for. The song lyric at the end is from the Feist song "Let it Die." Same cursing heads up
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Yeah I said it.
Chapter End Notes:
One more chapter to go! Criticism, complaints or compliments are always welcome and appreciated. Thanks for reading!
