Full Circle (44 page)

“Then what’s the problem?”

He flung his hand to his side. “What do you
mean, what’s the problem? She obviously doesn’t know what she’s
saying. She obviously doesn’t understand what I did was wrong. That
I’m not the kind of man she needs. I mean, why would she need
someone who’s going to treat her that way? She deserves
better.”

“Are you listening to yourself,” Rob said.
“Listen to what you’re saying.” Rob paused before continuing, as if
he were carefully choosing his words. When he spoke again, his
words came out firm and slow. “You’re pushing her away. This isn’t
about her wanting to leave you. This is about you being terrified
of the
possibility
that she
might
leave without
having any proof that she will.”

“Wait a minute, I—”

“No, you wait a minute, Mark. You’re
transferring your fears onto her as if they’re hers and not yours.
She told you she was okay with what happened, and yet you’re
sitting there thinking she lied. Has Karma ever been known to
lie?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why would you think she’s lying
now?”

“But she doesn’t understand what I
did . .  that what I did was wrong.”

“Bullshit. She understands what you did
better than you do.”

Mark bobbed his head back, frowning.
“What?”

“You heard me. Karma is more in tune with
what you need than you give her credit for. You were fucked up
after you ran into Carol and Antonio. Anyone could have seen that.
They caught you off guard, because they weren’t supposed to be
there. But shit happens, and they were. And it jacked you up the
way seeing them always does. Only this time, you had Karma to help
you through it. She saw how fucked up you were. She knew you needed
to let off steam. And she
willingly
let you vent that steam
on her. She knew exactly what she was doing and why, and now you’re
discrediting her choice, diminishing it by saying she didn’t know
what she was doing. Mark, you need to take a really hard look at
your fiancée. She loves you and is undeniably devoted to you. And
it sounds like she’s willing to do whatever it takes to get you
through this. Maybe it’s time you level with her one hundred
percent.”

Mark slumped into his chair. As usual, he was
too deep in his own shit to know which way led out. It took Rob to
give him some perspective.

“You’re right.” He hung his head and dragged
his hand over his face. “Fuck, I’ve been such an ass.”

Rob sighed. “Remember at your mom’s birthday
party when I told you I thought you were subconsciously pushing
Karma away? You swept my concerns under the rug. Well, do you
believe me now? Do you think there might be some truth to that,
after all?”

“Yeah, okay.” Mark dropped his hand to his
desk and let the chair catch him as he rocked back. “Maybe you were
right.”

“You’re too deep in the forest to see the
damn trees, buddy. I’m not. I’m above looking down, and I can see
exactly where you are and where you need to go to get out of the
weeds.”

“In other words, I’m still fucking things up
and might have already pushed Karma too far to save our
relationship.” He couldn’t lose her. He’d die if he did.

“That’s not what I’m saying. If you’d pushed
her too far, she’d already be gone. But you’ve got to fix
this.”

Mark swiveled his chair around and checked
his calendar. He had to get on a conference call in ten minutes.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You need to talk to Carol, man. The sooner
the better. And maybe Antonio, too.” Rob spoke definitively, as if
he’d reached inside Mark’s mind and pulled the words straight from
his thoughts.

“You got her number?” Mark straightened and
grabbed his pen.

“Yep.”

“Give it to me.”

It took Rob a few seconds to pull it up, and
then he recited the information as Mark jotted it on his
notepad.

“Call her now,” Rob said. “Tell her the two
of you need to meet this weekend. Don’t take no for an answer. Then
go home, tell Karma you’re sorry for being a total boner for the
past week, tell her you’re going to talk to Carol and resolve this
once and for all, and then make love to her until she can’t see
straight.
That’s
what Karma deserves, Mark. She deserves the
truth. And she deserves to know you love her enough to fix
this.”

Mark glanced out the window at the
refreshingly blue skies. It was a perfect day to finally set things
right and get his head out of his ass once and for all. “Man, when
did you turn into such a romantic.”

“It’s Holly’s fault.”

“Of course it is.”

Rob chuckled. “Okay, now go. Do this. I’ll
talk to you later.”

“Definitely. And Rob?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“What are best friends for?”

They said their good-byes, and then Mark took
a deep breath and dialed Carol’s number. Shit, his hands were
shaking. But, damn it, he could do this. He
had
to. His
future with Karma depended on it.

Her voicemail picked up.

“Carol, hey, it’s Mark.” He cleared his
throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I know I’m probably
the last person you expected to hear from,
but . . .” He took a deep breath. “I think we really
need to talk. It’s been long enough, and I
can’t . . . I don’t want . . . I
mean, I’m trying to move on with my life, but . . .”
He was tripping over his tongue like an idiot.
“Just . . . please give me a call back. I promise, I
just want to talk. I just want to put closure on what happened
between us, and I can’t do that until we’ve cleared the air.” He
rattled off both his office number and his cell number. “I hope to
hear from you soon. And, about Saturday night, I’m sorry for how I
reacted when I saw you. I, uh . . . I just hadn’t
expected to see you there.” He cleared his throat. “Please
apologize to Antonio for me, too.”

He disconnected and took a shaky breath.
Okay, that hadn’t been so bad. He’d blathered like an imbecile and
set the world record for how many times someone could say the word
just
in thirty seconds, but he’d gotten out what he needed
to say and hadn’t spun into a gastrointestinal meltdown.

But now he needed to shift gears. It was time
for his conference call. He poked his head out the door. “Kit?”

She glanced up from her computer. “Yes.”

“Can you answer my line while I’m on my
conference call?”

“Sure.”

“And if someone named Carol calls, please
interrupt me. It’s very important I speak to her right away.”

“Absolutely. I’ll interrupt if Carol calls.”
She nodded once. Her sign that she’d programmed his directive into
her brain.

“Thanks.” He closed his door and returned to
his desk.

One way or another, this shit with Carol was
getting resolved by Monday, even if he had to drive up to Chicago
and force the issue.

Chapter 31

Don’t worry when I fight with you. Worry when I
stop, because it means there’s nothing left for us to fight
for.

-Author Unknown

Karma wandered blindly into the cavernous walk-in
closet, her fingers skimming the sleeves of Mark’s suits.

She’d showered, and water still dripped off
the ends of her hair. The robe Mark had bought her two summers ago
hung loosely from her shoulders.

She’d gone running with Daniel to help clear
her head. He’d known something was wrong, and even though his
curiosity and concern had been written all over his face, he hadn’t
pushed for details.

But something had happened during their run
that now played on repeat in her thoughts.

They had decided to run the winding, looping
trail they normally took in reverse. Why they would change things
up today of all days was a mystery. But Daniel had led her left
instead of right, and she’d simply taken his direction in
stride.

As they crested a shallow rise she’d jogged
over a hundred times from the other direction, she came to an
abrupt stop and gasped. The rolling meadow, dotted by trees, spread
out in front of her like an enchanted, undiscovered land, bright
green with uncut springtime grass and young leaves. It had been
unseasonably warm the past couple of weeks, so the first bright
yellow dandelions were blooming, adding a touch of charm.

“Wow.”

Daniel stopped and gave her a quizzical
glance. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just . . .” She
waved her hand toward the view, lit magically by the sun with not a
cloud in the sky. “It just looks a lot different coming from this
direction. Prettier.” Breathtaking was more apropos.

Laughing, Daniel jogged in place to keep his
legs loose. “Isn’t it funny how that works? You see something over
and over and never really see it. Then, one day, you change your
perspective, and suddenly everything looks different.”

 
. . . you change your
perspective, and suddenly everything looks different.

Was that what she needed to do with Mark?
Maybe she’d been seeing him through rose-colored glasses all this
time. Seeing what she wanted to see instead of what was really
there.

She had spent the rest of her run in silence,
her mind sorting through all her memories of Mark while her body
went through the motions of keeping up with Daniel.

For months, Mark had continually insinuated
he wasn’t good enough for her, and she’d kept telling him that
wasn’t true. Well, maybe it was. Maybe she needed to get real and
take off her blinders and see Mark for the man he kept trying to
convince her he was.

Her bare feet sank into the plush
eggshell-colored carpet. Her mind resisted the idea that Mark was
an unredeemable, broken man with nothing more to offer.

She plucked the navy pinstriped suit she
loved so much off the rack. Even the hanger was top-of-the-line,
made of polished wood and soft curves so it didn’t stretch the
fabric.

Peeling back the collar, she read the label.
Hugo Boss. Nice. Not cheap.

She put the suit back and picked up another.
A shimmery charcoal grey with a delicate, weaved pattern in the
wool. Armani.

She continued reading the labels. Ralph
Lauren. Gucci. Stefano Pilati. Carlo Brandelli. Tom Ford. And so
many more.

But there were just as many regular joe
labels as designer ones. Hanes, for example. He owned several Hanes
T-shirts like the ones he wore to bed or to play basketball in.

Basketball.

Her gaze fell to the duffel bag tucked in the
corner as another memory struck her. The bag was the same one he’d
taken to the basketball court when she’d driven up to Chicago to
surprise him after kids broke into his apartment two summers ago.
That had been a bizarre weekend. He’d gotten angry at her for
finding . . .

She turned toward his dresser. On top sat the
small, ornate box she’d seen on this same dresser in Chicago.

Her lips parted as she exhaled, her heart
skipping a beat. She remembered the night they’d argued at his
apartment all too well. She’d found a pair of wedding rings and a
diamond necklace in his gym bag, and, hypnotized as any woman would
be by all the sparkles, she’d slipped the woman’s ring on her
finger.

Mark had caught her, and he’d erupted. He’d
accused her of snooping, lecturing her and snatching the jewelry
from her. Then he’d thrown both the ring and the necklace in that
box, slamming the lid closed.

He’d been so angry that night. The ring had
been Carol’s. The necklace had been meant as a wedding gift to her.
One he’d planned on giving her on their honeymoon.

But then Carol had jilted him, leaving him
standing alone in front of hundreds of guests so she could run off
with Antonio.

She didn’t want to think the jewelry was
still here, but dread siphoned through her veins as she crept
toward the dresser, eyes on the box.

Gingerly, she placed her fingertips on the
sides of the lid, took a deep breath, and lifted.

Inside, she found his platinum and onyx
cufflinks and matching ring, his Tag Heuer watch, a Rolex, a pair
of Montblanc pens, a few trinkets, and there . . .
buried beneath it all . . . were the necklace and
his and her wedding bands.

Her heart fell.

It was as she feared. Carol was still there.
Still getting in the way. Still standing between them. How could
she not be when Mark couldn’t even let go of jewelry that had been
meant for her. Hadn’t he said in Chicago it was time he got rid of
it. He had assured her he would. And yet, here it was, still among
his most personal possessions.

She blinked back tears. He was still holding
on to his past. Still unable to break free.

But there was something else in the box.
Something that looked completely out of place amid thousands of
dollars’ worth of jewelry.

A folded sheet of notepaper.

Wiping her eyes, she took out the piece of
paper and unfolded it, frowning when she saw it was the list he’d
made in Saint Lucia. What was this doing here?

Her eyes scanned down the bullet points of
things he’d feared telling her. The drugs. The crap he’d done with
Nina. The sexual role-play, exhibitionism, anal
play . . .

Wait.

The last item.

I want to dance again.

The line of print was crossed out, but still,
he’d written it down. Why?

“What?” she murmured aloud, crinkling her
brow and shaking her head.

What the hell did he mean by wanting to dance
again? They had danced. In fact, they had danced at the benefit
last weekend.

Then, like a bucket of ice water being tossed
in her face, it dawned on her. He wanted to
dance
-dance.
Professional-style dancing. The way he had with Carol. In a way
Karma wasn’t capable of. She couldn’t waltz or foxtrot or cha-cha.
That wasn’t in her wheelhouse.

No wonder he had crossed that item off his
list. Because he knew she could never fill Carol’s shoes and dance
the way he wanted to dance.