Page 8

KAREN

This was going to be a nightmare.

Karen had been married to Jett for all of twenty-four hours, and he was not what she expected. Obviously, she’d bumped her head, had been inhaling fumes unknowingly, and was now tied to a man who made her want to pull her hair out.

When she left his place last evening, it felt like things were going to be okay so long as she could figure out all the moving pieces… and then, she awoke this morning to a bevy of text messages that would incite anyone who wasn’t of the ‘Athletic Type.’

Sup, wife…

You are up, aren’t you?

Oh my gosh, tell me you aren’t one of those soft girls who sleep until noon on Sundays – are you?

Yo. I’m done at church and tried calling, but it went to voicemail.

Did you block me?

Okay, I’m done at the gym, and the ‘Find My Phone’ feature says you are at an apartment. I’m assuming that’s your place because I gave you all my deets but forgot to get yours. No biggie – we’ll be living together soon in CA.

Canada – not California.

I’m pretty sure you knew that – and you still aren’t answering your text messages.

Helloooo? Pilates done, and now having lunch with my fam.

Call me when you get this.

FYI – in case you didn’t label this phone number, it’s your husband.

It was barely eleven thirty, and after having a mild panic attack, taking a long bubble bath, and then trying to figure out how she was going to give her notice, what she would pack first, and researching what historical sites were in Quebec…

it was nearly three in the morning before she went to bed – and no.

She was not athletically inclined in the slightest. Dialing his number, she sat back against her headboard and sighed.

“Heyyy… you’re alive.”

Karen rubbed the sleep from her eyes, the weight of a restless night still heavy on her shoulders. Her head throbbed dully, a cruel reminder of the tossing and turning that had plagued her until dawn.

The morning light spilled through the half-drawn curtains, far too bright, too loud for how fragile she felt inside. The shrill buzz of her phone had pulled her from a shallow doze, and now Jett’s voice danced through the speaker, far too energetic for her sluggish state.

“Funny, Jett,” she replied groggily, her voice a mix of amusement and irritation. “I didn’t sleep well last night and…”

“Man, I got the best sleep ever, and I’m sorry you didn’t, but maybe this will help – we got the condo and pick up the keys on Friday.

I’ve got the movers already arranged; well, my agent does, but I just need your address so they know where to get your stuff.

We’ve gotta a heckuva drive unless you wanna fly, and we can have my car shipped, but your Kia…

I was thinking maybe it was time to part ways and get you something new because, ugh ,” he rushed, the words tumbling out in a breathless, excited ramble.

Then came the gagging sound—dramatic and childish—and still somehow endearing.

“You strike me as a sleek kinda woman – how about an Audi or maybe something with a bit more spice to it like a Bentley. I could see you driving a plush little Benz or…”

She groaned, dragging a hand through her hair, fingers catching on tangles that hadn't been brushed out the night before. “It’s too early for this,” she grumbled, more to herself than to him.

The fog of sleep clung to her, but something in his words tugged her mind into clearer focus.

She paused. “You want me to get a different car?”

“Let’s put it this way, if I have an out-of-town game and your car gasps its last breath, I don’t want you stranded on the side of the road somewhere. I’d feel better if you had a new car with all the bells and whistles.”

Karen sat up slowly, her brows furrowing. She wasn’t sure what unsettled her more—the fact that he was planning her life with such casual certainty, or the part of her that ached to let him. “You know those extra bells and whistles mean that is just more to break on a car, right?”

“Humor me… please?”

His voice softened at the end, a plea tucked between the lines. And for a moment, her heart ached with the sincerity in it. He wasn’t trying to control her. He was trying to care for her. He just didn’t always know how to do it gently.

She bit her lip, replaying the rush of information he’d unloaded. A condo. Movers. A new car. A move. Everything was happening so fast—too fast. Still, her voice came out steadier when she asked, “We’ll be in Canada next weekend?”

“Yes, ma’am. Are you free tomorrow night? My family wants to meet you, and it’s important to me that we say ‘bye’ together. Oh, and I opted for the larger condo we picked – the one with the guest room…”

Her heart sank. That wasn’t the plan. That wasn’t what they had agreed on.

“Jett, that wasn’t what we agreed on.”

“I need a guest room.”

Her pulse quickened, heat rising in her chest. “I liked the office that overlooked the gardens – not the one facing the city.”

“Too late.”

The words hit her like a slap. “No, it’s not – call them back.”

“I can’t, and I’m not. I need a place for my family to come stay when they visit…”

His voice was calm, rational even, but all she could hear was the dismissal in it. All she could feel was the sting of being overridden again.

“They can use my room because I’m not going if you are going to ignore my requests and do whatever it is you want anyhow,” she said angrily, bolting upright. Her heart pounded in her chest as fury surged through her veins. “Why ask my opinion if you don’t care what I think?”

He spoke again, but she barely heard him.

“Because we need a guest room when my family visits.”

“You said that already.”

“And it’s on the opposite side of the condo, so we have privacy,” he whispered.

Privacy. Space. Distance. The words scratched against the raw edges of her feelings.

He was trying to reason, she knew that, but every word felt like a confirmation that this wasn't about building something together—it was about him making room for her in something he’d already chosen.

She felt the burn in her eyes before she could stop it.

“Karen, please? I know you wanted to face the gardens, but marriage is about compromise, remember?”

Her jaw tightened as she swallowed the bitterness welling up. He was right—but was she the only one compromising?

“And what are you compromising on?” she asked, the question slipping out sharper than she intended.

“I gave up the home gym so you could have the really big office with a terrace. I know it overlooks the city, but…”

Her heart stuttered.

That didn’t make sense.

“Wait, wait, wait… Jett, none of them had a terrace.” She pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to steady the swirl of memories, the countless listings they’d gone through last night on the iPad, comparing, debating, dreaming.

“What do you mean you gave up the home gym? That was the only thing you asked for, remember?”

There was a long pause. She could almost hear the shift in his tone, feel the way he was backing away emotionally.

“Can we talk later? Privately?”

The sudden retreat hit her like a slap. Later? He was retreating, and she knew deep down that the conversation would not come up again later .

“I was going to run a few errands and start finalizing things here. I mean, we are talking about two strangers living together in another country this coming weekend.”

She hated the sharpness in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. This wasn’t just about square footage or terraces or family rooms. It was about the fact that she was crossing the miles for a man who was making decisions without her, expecting her to follow.

“I know – and I promise you’ll love it. Let me send you the link one more time… and trust me, Karen. I promise that I won’t ever do anything to make you regret this.”

Her heart twisted. Regret. That word was already slinking around in the shadows of her mind. How could he make a promise like that?

“You can’t know that, Jett. We’re strangers.”

“You’re my wife.”

“On paper.”

“Works for me… and I need to go. Biggie-E is stealing my fries, and I’m gonna have to whup-up on the little man and show him who’s the boss.”

Who?

His voice shifted, playful now, colored with affection—and somewhere in the background, she heard a laugh. High-pitched. Young. A child?

“Do you have a kid with you?”

“It’s my brother.”

“Wait – your brother is a child?”

She blinked. Confused.

Her heart beat faster, a dull thud echoing in her chest as she stared, unblinking, at nothing in particular. Who was Jett? This man she thought she’d started to understand, piece by piece, like a puzzle slowly coming together—had she missed something crucial?

“I can’t wait for you to meet him – hey! Gimme back my fries, you twerp!” Jett’s voice snapped her back to the moment. Laughter echoed in his tone—real, carefree, utterly unfazed by the confusion he’d just dropped in her lap. “I gotta go, Karen. I’ll talk to you later when I’m alone.”

And just like that, the call ended.

The line went dead.

Karen blinked, pulled the phone away from her ear, and stared at it in disbelief.

Frustration bubbled up quickly, hot and sharp.

Her lips pressed into a tight line as she rolled her eyes, feeling the familiar wave of exasperation rise.

Jett could be so infuriating sometimes—so darn casual about everything.

He dropped cryptic comments like breadcrumbs and expected her to follow, and then just disappeared before she could even ask the obvious questions.

It felt like every time she tried to hold onto something solid with him, making plans, he just… let go.

People, conversations, plans—her. She was learning really quickly that once he’d decided he was finished with something, it was filed away mentally in his brain. Well, her mind didn’t work like that!

Her phone chimed.