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I started panting, pushed Karyn off of me, and got up off the bed, zipping up my pants.
Sitting on the bed with my head in my hands, I became ashamed of what I was about to do.
“Cedric? What the fuck is going on?” Karyn stared at me with daggers in her eyes, which were starting to well up with tears.
“Karyn…I…I…don’t know.” I really didn’t even know how to explain what I was feeling: why all of a sudden, being with her no longer made sense.
I certainly couldn’t tell her the truth: that I thought I might love someone else, someone I had only spent barely an hour with and by the way, she has no clue, I have been stalking her for weeks while I lied through my teeth to both of you.
Karyn’s mascara ran down her cheeks as she cried out. “Well, you better fucking figure it out! You have been so distant this past month, Cedric. I have tried everything to get you to come out of this funk, but apparently you don’t want to be brought out of it. I seriously hate you right now.”
Not more than I fucking hate myself.
“Karyn, I don’t blame you. I am so sorry. I think I need to go back to Boston tonight. I need some time…I didn’t mean to hurt you…I just…I can’t do this anymore. I am so…so sorry.”
I truly meant it. I never wanted to hurt her. I never meant for things to turn out this way with her.
“Fuck you,” Karyn spewed as she went toward the bathroom and slammed the door. I could hear her crying gasping for air then she turned on the water, possibly to hide the sound.
I felt horrible, but grabbed my suitcase anyway, packed it as fast as I could and left.
***
I was determined to see Allison come hell or high water the Monday after I abandoned Karyn, along with our relationship, in New York City.
The weekend seemed to drag on as I sat unshaven in my condo, my ass glued to the leather couch, as I smoked and listened to old discs. At one point, I freakishly came across the song Allison by Elvis Costello, which nearly put me over the edge.
With that, I had an intense urge to see her and almost drove to her apartment in Malden without a plan. I thought I could make up a story about why I was there, but nixed the idea because I didn’t think I was of sound mind to see her and couldn’t come up with any excuse that made a lick of sense.
I was still exhausted since I had driven late Friday night back to Boston from the Ritz after I sobered up and rented a car. Karyn and I had originally planned to fly back together on Sunday.
By now, I hadn’t gotten any sleep, looked like ass and I reeked.
***
On Sunday, I decided I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself any longer; I needed to talk to someone. The only person I could trust with this was my older brother Caleb.
Caleb and I were two years apart and he was the only one in my family that actually knew what happened in Chicago.
I could never bear to tell my parents anything. They were going through so much with my sister Callie at the time and then as the years went by, I continued to keep the past in the past and away from my family…except Caleb.
To this day, my mother knows very little about my time in Chicago, including the sordid intern years after graduation. But Caleb had come to visit me shortly after everything went down senior year and was a huge help in getting me back on track to finish school, keeping in touch by phone every single day after he left. I couldn’t have graduated from Northwestern without my brother.
Caleb lived about ninety minutes away in New Hampshire with his wife Denise. They owned a large new colonial style home that sat on three acres of rural land. I liked to go to Caleb’s whenever I needed to clear my head. They had no kids, so it was a peaceful place away from the noise of the city.
Denise had been trying to get pregnant for a few years with no success. They had planned on kids, which is why the house they built is so big. The echo in their house is like the elephant in the room. I am still hoping it will happen for them one way or another because they are both such good people and would make great parents.
After the hour and a half-drive to my brother’s door, I pulled up to the circular driveway of their house, which was located on a quiet cul de sac.
Denise greeted me at the door with a warm hug and I could smell the pumpkin and turkey--aromas of Thanksgiving leftovers heating in the oven. It was nice to have a home cooked meal after the cold Thanksgiving I suffered through in Manhattan.
“Hey little brother! You look…tired. Come on in, sweetie.” Denise hugged me. I liked that she thought of me as a brother. She was a great girl and had been Caleb’s college sweetheart at UNH. Denise was petite with medium length dirty blonde hair and the kindest eyes you have ever seen.
“Saying I look tired…is that another way of saying I look like shit? It smells wicked good in here,” I said, tending to resort to Boston-speak when in the presence of my family.
Caleb ran down the stairs and we gave each other the usual quick manly hug. It was good to see him. It had been a couple of months.
Caleb was two years older than me, about fifteen pounds heavier, three inches taller and worked as a contractor. We shared the same brown hair and b
