The Seducer (42 page)

I can't believe she's still defending that jerk! Rob fumed. “The poor guy ... After he deceived and manipulated everyone. Now I'm supposed to feel sorry for him?”

“Nobody's asking you to feel sorry for anybody.” The moment didn't feel right. But when would it feel better? After a slight hesitation, she gathered the nerve to ask him: “Do you still want me to leave?”

“I'm not going to throw you out into the street,” he circumvented her real question. He wished he had the strength to tell her that it was too late; that they had reached the point of no return. But would it be true? he wondered, still feeling divided.

“Would you like me to rent an apartment?” she reformulated her question, sensing ambivalence.

Rob didn't know how to respond. He knew that probably any other man, any normal man, would tell her to go ahead and leave, as she had originally intended. But something inside of him prevented him from closing the door on their relationship. My worst fears have been confirmed, he reflected, considering his love for Ana as a terrible, self-defeating weakness. Now I'll be stuck in a hopeless marriage for the rest of my life, with a woman who needs me but can't love me. What did I ever do to deserve this? he asked himself, filled with self­pity. “You do what you want. You always do what you want,” he finally said, unwilling to be the one responsible for the break up of their family.

This wasn't the reaction Ana hoped for, but it was the one she expected. “I want to give our marriage another chance,” she said quietly.

“You want to give
me
another chance?” Rob asked, disturbed by her ambiguous formulation.

“I didn't say that.” Ana breathed in and out to gather the courage to tell him what was really on her mind. “I want to work on our relationship. To make it what it should have been in the first place. For us to have our meals together, sleep together, be mutually faithful and be more loving and appreciative of each other than we were. I want a fresh start,” she pleaded with her dark eyes.

Is this another ruse? Rob wondered. “How do you expect me to believe any of this when you're still defending him?”

“I won't defend him if you don't attack him anymore.”

“So now it's my fault,” Rob observed under his breath, incensed again. A sordid idea occurred to him. “You're just as sadistic as he is! You want to give me and the kids hope that we can be a happy family and once we begin to believe you, you'll turn around and go to him anyway.”

Ana had been prepared for a downright refusal, but not for this accusation. “What? No! I'd never do something like that. I'm telling you, it's all over between us.”

Rob didn't know what to believe anymore. “And I'm telling you that I don't trust you,” he said, to test her reaction and gather more evidence, for or against her.

“How can I make you trust me again?”

“By not praising him anymore, for starters. By not comparing us at all. By being faithful to me. By loving me,” he said, exasperated. “You should already know this. I shouldn't have to tell you!”

“Okay,” Ana agreed, eager to pacify him.

Okay? That's it? If only things were so easy to fix in real life. “We'll need some serious counseling to even begin to undo some of the damage to our marriage,” he said, feeling drained.

Rob retreated into the bedroom to contemplate this new development. He threw himself on top of the bed, his arms behind his head, his heart slowing down to the tempo of discouragement, of a profound sense of hopelessness. She won't let me move on in peace, he disconsolately observed. Then it occurred to him that Ana would probably reconcile with her lover if he rejected her at this point. His blood boiled when he imagined his children raised by such a conscienceless man. This is a guy who has admitted to his own girlfriend that he slept with dozens of women, Rob recalled. Strangely enough, Ana sees no problem with this fact. Could he hide his sexual addiction from my children? Would he convince her that it would be “for the good of the children” to initiate them into the ways of sex? He wouldn't be the first stepfather to do so. What would there be to stop him? Certainly not his conscience, since he's got no scruples. Would Ana be capable of standing up to him to protect our kids when she's yielded to everything he wanted so far?

His thoughts reverted to his wife. Ana had stated that she wanted to work on their marriage. She had told him from the very beginning that she didn't want to leave him; that Michael had pressured her into divorce. But the problem remains, Rob thought, how can I ever trust her again? One thing's become transparently clear to me: Michael would be sheer destruction for her. If she moves in with him, all of her previous pining for him would become pining for the wholesome family she left behind. His so-called charm would turn into domination. Eventually this would become sheer torture for her, since she's so willful and proud. It probably already has and that's why she broke up with him. But I wanted Ana to choose me rather than to reject him! Rob thought with a sinking feeling.

Yet a decision has to be made, since we've already had several weeks of limbo, he continued reasoning. I'll take her up on her offer to work on our marriage, for the sake of our children and because I still see potential in it, he resolved. But his heart wasn't really into it. Everything will stay in balance for as long as Ana remains under his spell, Rob qualified. And I don't want to be strung along anymore if divorce is inevitable. Oh, God ... What a shitty existence! We've got to see a marriage counselor right away, he concluded.

Michael parked the car in the garage. Within a few leaps, he was inside the house. “Hey,” he greeted Karen. She was sitting at the kitchen table, licking the last traces of fat free yogurt from her spoon. “Still eating only fruit and yogurt?”

“I don't have much of an appetite lately. I might as well take advantage of that for my diet,” she got up to place the spoon into the sink.

Michael followed her tall figure with his eyes, weighing in his mind the pros and cons of what he were about to propose to her. When she turned around to face him, he saw that the area around her nose was rosy, as if she had been crying again. “Do you have a cold or something?”

Karen looked at him reproachfully. “It must be my allergies.”

Michael breathed in, as he often did when he was about to raise a point he considered particularly important. “Do you want to stop by
Andrea's
?”

Karen winced at the suggestion. That was their favorite restaurant, where they used to celebrate special occasions. “Why go there now?”

“I have a surprise for you.” He looked around slyly. “But I prefer to reveal it somewhere special.”

“What is it?” Karen asked, without much enthusiasm. She had had more than enough surprises from Michael lately.

“I'll tell you when we get there,” he took her by the hand and led her out the door.

She followed him blindly. “What kind of a surprise?” she asked him again once they stepped into his car.

“If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore, now would it?”

Karen's heart sank. Michael's behavior reminded her of the days when he used to love her, when he'd surprise her with fancy dinners and bouquets of flowers and boxes of the dark chocolate she preferred. But those days were now forever gone.

Michael stole another glance at her. He seemed pleased with her sad expression. Once they arrived at the restaurant, they squeezed together into the same compartment of the revolving door, like he used to do with Ana. He asked for the same table he had occupied with his girlfriend only a few weeks earlier, which happened to be available. He wanted everything to be as it had been with Ana. “
Pinot noir
,” Michael ordered two glasses of wine when the waitress came by. “And scallops with bacon, please,” he named Karen's favorite
hors d'oeuvre
.

She smiled at him quizzically until the corners of her lips began to quiver. “What's going on?”

“It's over.”

“What is?”

“The whole fling with Ana. We broke up.”

Karen couldn't believe her ears. “Come on ...” she said skeptically, examining his face. But Michael's expression remained perfectly serious. He didn't burst out into laughter, like he usually did after making some cruel comment or inappropriate joke.

“Why? What happened?”

Michael shrugged. “She was freaking out about the divorce. Plus, she didn't even want to have a baby together. It became quite obvious to me that she wasn't ready to commit to our relationship. You know me. Screw that! If you can't keep up, get out of my way. In fact, that's exactly what I told her.”

In spite of everything that had happened, Karen felt sorry for Michael. He must feel so hurt, she speculated. She could tell from the start that Ana never really loved him. But she deliberately refrained from saying anything that would sound like ‘I told you so. ‘ She knew how proud Michael was. Besides, he needed comforting right now. “I'm so sorry,” she said. Strangely enough, at that moment, she meant it.

“No you're not,” he contradicted her, putting himself in her shoes. “You're happy about it. Don't bullshit me.”

Men mask their disappointment so much better than we do, Karen speculated, surprised by Michael's lack of emotion about the recent breakup with his girlfriend. After all, he had been completely obsessed with Ana for almost a year. But what does all this mean for us? she wondered. That question must have been reflected in her eyes, since that's precisely the point Michael addressed next.

“Thanks,” he looked up to thank the waitress who had returned with their drinks, then turned to his fiancée. “To us!” he raised his glass.

“To us?” Karen repeated and slowly raised hers as well. She took a sip of wine and waited patiently for an explanation. Her hand trembled lightly upon the stem of the glass as she set it back on the table.

“Maybe you were right all along,” Michael finally uttered the words she had longed to hear ever since he had told her about the affair.

“What did I say again?” Her heart raced uncontrollably.

“That Ana wasn't right for me. That I needed a woman who was patient and calm and frugal and virtuous.” His gaze lingered over her, calming her frayed nerves. “A woman like you.”

“A woman
like
me?” Karen repeated, perturbed by the generic formulation.

“You,” he looked straight into her eyes, not so much lovingly as possessively, to reclaim his rightful territory. Then his gaze relaxed. “Of course, that's entirely up to you. Given how I've behaved, whatever you decide, I'll understand.” The waitress stopped by with two empty plates and a little tray filled with scallops wrapped in bacon, which she carefully placed at the center of the table. “Thanks,” Michael said to her with a friendly smile.

Karen sighed. So the ball's now in my court, she observed. She had hoped for this moment, prayed for it, and even had tantalizing dreams about it that felt more like nightmares, during the hellish period when she was coming to terms with their breakup. “I don't want to be second best again,” she replied, surprising her own self. She had assumed that she'd return to Michael in an instant if he asked her. But now that she was confronted with that reality, she was overcome with genuine ambivalence. “I want to be the only woman you love. Not the woman you settle for because your top choice let you down.”

Michael nodded. “You are Baby, you are.” He paused, looking discouraged. “Of course, how can I convince you of that now?”

“It will be difficult,” Karen agreed. “I'm extremely hurt by what happened. I don't know how I'll ever trust you again. I know I've said this to you before. But now it's more true than ever.”

“Please know that I'm willing to wait on you however long it takes you to decide. Our future's in your hands.”

Michael's tone was so earnest and warm that Karen felt touched. “How do I know that you won't use me as your backup until you find your next true love?” she asked him nonetheless. “I never want to live again in another woman's shadow.”

“I guess I really fucked up this time. Pardon the pun,” he grinned.

Karen looked at his boyish face. How can he be so immature? she wondered. Here he is, a man in his late twenties who still speaks and acts like an adolescent boy. She sighed. That's part of his charm, she thought, her maternal attitude overtaking her instinct of self-preservation.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I'm starting to feel a little better about us,” Karen confessed. Despite this moment of hope, her anxiety resurfaced. “I just want you to be sure this time,” she emphasized.

“What does this actually mean? Practically speaking?” Michael inquired. You lead the way, he seemed to suggest, enjoying this psychological game of chess.

Karen felt uncomfortable with what she was about to propose. But better now than later, she told herself. “You're on the rebound now. I think you need some space to figure out what and, more importantly,
who
you want. You seem confused,” she chose to interpret his recent actions as generously as possible.

“And you? How come you're not confused?” he asked her, knowing in advance what she'd say in response.

Karen's smile was sad, making her appear prematurely aged. “I've been ready practically since the day we met. I knew from the beginning that you're the only one for me. It's you who's always looked around and strayed. You're the one who doesn't know what he wants.”

Michael burst out laughing at her blunt expression, amused by its apparent perspicacity. But, in point of fact, he knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted it all. The maximum possible. “So what does this actually mean for us?”

She hesitated. “I probably should return to Phoenix for awhile. To give you some space,” she said, struggling with her own ambivalence. “Even though I don't want to risk losing you again.”