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KAREN

Maybe this was a mistake.

Maybe she should have thought this through, but things moved so quickly that Karen was standing in front of the magistrate’s office with this stranger putting his hands on her shoulders, drawing her into his arms, and kissing her.

And then it was done.

Welcome, Doubt.

It’s about time you showed up…

“Jett…”

“Yo, I cannot believe you’re a Karen.”

“Hang on now…”

“I think it’s funny that my Karen, who isn’t a Karen, is named Karen – of all the weird things,” he chuckled to himself like that sentence made sense to him and everyone around him.

Jett, her new husband, was clutching the marriage decree like it was his Golden Ticket to Wonkaland. He was smiling, looking so relieved, and texting someone while they were walking toward where their two cars were parked.

“Whew, am I relieved that is done. I need to call my Mom and brother. Boy, are they going to be shocked when I tell them the news and that I’m moving.”

“Um, don’t you think we should sit down and talk about what comes next?

” Karen asked warily, standing awkwardly between the two cars.

She wasn’t sure if she should follow him somewhere or if she should invite him over to her place, but parting seemed out of the question.

She was tied to him legally now, and it was unsettling because so much was just, well, unanswered.

“Oh sure… sure,” Jett chuckled and shoved his phone in his pocket, putting a hand on his hip. “Ask away. Whatcha want to talk about, Wifey-pooh?”

She cringed.

“Um, first, that nickname,” Karen began. “Secondly, we need to talk about Quebec and this marriage.”

“Ah, um, yeah, we probably should. How about dinner tomorrow night? Let me get more facts about what is…”

“No,” Karen interrupted flatly, completely horrified as she stared at him. “We’re going to talk tonight and exchange some information, lay out a plan, and then discuss a few things because I feel like I’m walking blindly into a fog and being told to tread water.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Jett chuckled. “How can you walk and tread water when…”

“Jett!”

“What? Don’t yell at me,” he replied, frowning. “We’ve been married ten minutes, and you are already showing me your namesake? Don’t go Karen on me, Karen … which is why I called you Babe or Wifey-pooh, but if you don’t like any of those, then what do you want me to call you?”

“Karen – and I’m not yelling.”

“You raised your voice.”

“I feel the need to raise it again…” she warned, frowning at him. “Where do you live?”

“Are you going to be some weird stalker fangirl?”

“Oh my heavens – we just got married!”

“Oh yeah…”

“Have you taken a puck to the face?”

“Twice. It hurt like a solid-biscuit, but I had that tooth pulled and an implant put in so my smile stayed pretty and…”

“Don’t get distracted,” she interrupted, hesitating.

Obviously, Jett has taken a puck or twenty to the head, or maybe he’s easily swayed, but keeping her new husband on track would be tougher than she realized.

“I need you to text me your address, and then I’m going to follow you there so we can talk.

If you need to call someone, you can do it from the car – but don’t lose me on the road. ”

“Sheesh… I had no idea you’d be bossy,” he muttered.

“Oh my stars and garters…” she sputtered in utter shock, her temper flaring at his comment.

“Dude, you’re wearing garters ? I did not picture that on you .”

“I’m not a dude! And I’m not wearing garters!” she snapped. “Wait – what did you mean by that comment?”

“Do I get to see what you are wearing?” he grinned at her obvious frustration, and she nearly slapped her forehead in dismay at his question.

Of course, he would be thinking of the wedding night, she realized and hesitated.

She didn’t want him to shut down or change his mind.

She needed to know who she’d just stupidly attached herself to and needed that marriage license or a copy of it— just in case.

“We’re going to discuss all sorts of things at your house,” she said evasively.

“Like garters?” he asked, perking up.

“Sure,” she sighed in exasperation. “We’ll discuss garters.”

No, we won’t, but you can think that…

“Sweet!” he replied in obvious excitement – and then reached over to get her phone, looked at it, and held their phones together, before shoving it in her face.

“What are you doing?” she sputtered, grabbing her phone from him.

“Connecting our phones, duh,” he shrugged. “You’ve got my stuff now, and I’ve got your stuff.”

“What?” she asked in shock, looking at her phone.

Quickly, she opened her phone book and scrolled…

and sure enough, there were names in there she didn’t recognize at all.

‘ J-Wowzer-the-Money-Man-and-Agent ’, lots of ‘ Don’t call ’ and ‘ Crazy’ as well as a few ‘ Skank’ that made her do a doubletake. “What is this?”

“Some of my contacts.”

“Who are ‘ Skank’ and ‘ Crazy’ ?” she asked, shaking her phone in disbelief at how he described and coded people in his phone. None of this made sense, and it was juvenile. “Don’t you dare put me in your phone as anything but Karen.”

“If ‘ Skank’ or ‘ Crazy’ calls, I’m not answering,” he shrugged again, making her temper boil.

“That’s in my past and a warning to avoid answering it.

It’s like a safety net. So instead of having to remember who Cindy was and then ending up traumatized after a ten-minute screaming session of ‘ Why didn’t you call me back?

’ … I choose not to answer a phone call like that because it’s self-evident, don’t you think? ”

Karen was speechless.

It made sense, but… still .

She couldn’t imagine labeling people like that in her cell phone that way, even if she understood the ‘why’ behind Jett’s actions. He just appeared to be closing off something that bothered him after deciding that a label wasn’t enough – and what kind of person did that make him?

And she married him.

Oh man…

Red flag number one - or one thousand?

“Let’s go,” Jett invited, opening up the door to his sleek Porsche and pointed at her Kia. “We’ve gotta upgrade you, Wifey-Pooh.”

“I’m not… argh! Just never mind – and don’t lose me.”

“Keep up,” he retorted and slid into his seat, shutting the door. That movement was enough to send Karen running for her car door, mentally noting that the infernal man did not open the door for her, nor did he make some grand show about being a gentleman.

No, they were outside of the magistrate’s office where they’d just said their ‘I do’s’ with the most curt kiss in the world by a man she never imagined she would ever talk to, much less tie herself and her future to him.

It was official.

She’d lost her ever-lovin’ mind.

Starting her Kia, Karen looked over to see Jett give a slight wave, a wink, and grinning as he began to back out of the parking spot— once again not waiting for her. It was like he knew one speed in his life and was waiting for a force of nature to bring him to a stop – or a wall.

Sure enough, Jett put his car into drive and made the exhaust rumble as the engine roared behind her car as if to enunciate his comment regarding her Kia Soul versus his Porsche.

“There’s nothing wrong with my Kia,” Karen muttered, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel as she trailed behind the gleaming red sports car darting through the late afternoon traffic.

Her compact car groaned a little as she pushed it to keep up, but she refused to let herself fall behind—not now.

Not when everything inside her felt like it was unraveling.

The city stretched around her in gray monotony, concrete buildings hunched along the roadside like tired giants, every light change and honk of a horn reminding her of how endless and exhausting it all was.

They were all part of it, weren’t they? The same faceless rush.

The same repetitive grind. A world that spun forward without feeling or pause, chewing people up and spitting them out like it was nothing.

If someone lost their place in line, the machine barely noticed.

Another cog always stepped up. And now, somehow, she realized she was one of those cogs too—swept up in something relentless and uncaring.

She blinked, her thoughts crashing back to the present just in time to see Jett swerve smoothly into another lane, the tail end of his car a brief flicker of beauty in the gloom of the city.

Even from here, even in traffic, his car turned heads.

It didn’t belong among the used sedans and aging minivans.

It roared with confidence, sleek and fast, a vivid slash of rebellion against the dullness surrounding it, just like Jett.

Her gaze lingered on his car as she followed, a tightness forming in her chest. He was like that too—bold, loud, the kind of man who seemed to suck the air out of every room and fill it with his own rhythm.

He didn’t hide or compromise. He existed in full color.

It was almost arrogant, the way he lived so unapologetically.

And she? She had never imagined ending up with someone like him.

She had pictured a quieter life. Stability.

Someone who made space for her, not someone who took up all the space and left her standing somewhere in the shadow of his spotlight.

She hadn’t signed up for a life where she had to race just to keep up.

This wasn’t what a partnership looked like—not the kind she had hoped for.

The weight of it all settled deep in her stomach as she kept her foot on the gas. A friendship. A relationship. A marriage. What were they building here, really? Or were they just hurtling toward something neither of them was ready for? And for what?

What was really going on?

Changing lanes, she had a lot of questions to ask – and he was going to answer them.

Or else.