Page 2 of Operation Annulment (Silent Phoenix MC)

one

Kate

“ T ell me again, how long are you planning to drag this out?” Benjamin asks from his perch on the arm of the chair in my bedroom, restlessly fidgeting with his tie.

“I don’t know,” I admit while applying another coat of mascara to my lashes. “It’s not like I meant for this to drag on as long as it has. I thought I’d meet someone else and—” I wave a hand between us. “—this whole thing would just work itself out naturally, you know?”

My grandmother called not long after I discovered Benjamin and Connor— in flagrante delicto . The words were right there, on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t do it. She’s had me on this pedestal since I was a child, and I can’t imagine how she’d react if I ever dared to climb down.

The situation would be different if Nan and Pops were just our grandparents.

But after my father’s death when I was six, they were forced to become so much more.

Over the years, my memories of him have grown fuzzy, making it hard to separate fact from fiction.

I can remember his tattoos, specifically a spider web, and tracing the colorful ink with my fingertips when he would tuck me in at night.

My mom struggled to care for us on her own for a few years before dropping us off on our grandparents’ porch when I was sixteen and my younger sister, Dakota, was twelve.

Overnight, we went from struggling financially to being made to feel like burdens for simply existing.

Pops tried to step in as a father figure, but Nan was adamant that her child-rearing days were over, claiming that mothers do not abandon their children.

Early on, I learned that taking on the role of mother with Dakota was the best way to keep the peace and avoid Nan’s wrath.

Nan became more affectionate if I worked hard enough to present our lives as perfect and lacking nothing.

Knowing both were temporary, I did my best not to let her praise or criticism affect me, but I did try to stay in her good graces for Dakota’s sake.

So, maybe it was wrong, but I was willing to go to any lengths to keep up the charade.

I did some digging into Physical Therapy Associates’ strict policy on workplace relationships between supervisors and subordinates—a violation that could cost Benjamin his job if his supervisors found out—before offering him an ultimatum.

He would continue to attend family events and play the role of the doting boyfriend, or I would go to his company about the relationship.

It was a win-win for both of us. He’d keep his job, and I would continue to float merrily down the River Denial for as long as possible.

As a therapist, I recognize this is an unhealthy pattern of behavior likely stemming from a deep-seated fear of abandonment and rejection.

But if it ain’t broke…

“This is it,” Benjamin says with a sigh. “This is the last time.”

I open my mouth, but he shakes his head, silencing my objection.

“No. Let me finish. I took a job in Colorado. Connor and I are moving up there at the end of the month.”

My pulse races—not at the thought of him leaving, but at Nan discovering the truth. Sure, this was a temporary solution, but I mistakenly assumed Benjamin would be willing to play along for as long as I needed him to.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders and turns me to face him. “I love him, Kate. You and I—it wasn’t right.”

I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. “But-but- you love your job! How can you just give that up?”

He smiles at me, much like one would a small child. “We need a fresh start. A training facility opened up this year—Survivor’s Gym—and they need PTs and assistants. Plus, the owner, Travis, seems really cool.”

“I’m happy for you,” I manage, ignoring the sting of tears behind my eyelids.

Despite the image that’s been forever burned into my memory, I mean it. Benjamin deserves to be loved for who he is, and we weren’t right for each other. We were just trying to check off boxes on someone else’s to-do list.

“Stop letting Norma Cross dictate everything you do,” he continues, lifting my chin and forcing me to look him in the eye.

“It’s not like she’s paying your bills, so stand up to her.

Then, I want you to get the hell out of your comfort zone and find a man who deserves you—not someone you think she’d approve of. ”

I let him pull me into a rough hug. He’s right. It’s time to come clean.

First thing tomorrow.

“So, Benjamin, how are things going at work?” Pops asks, his fork hovering in front of his mouth as he waits for an answer.

“Actually, Richard, I’ve got some news—Aghhhh!”

I roll my eyes. Sensing he was about to blow my cover, I slid my salad fork off my plate and under the table, giving his thigh a gentle nudge. Not anything that warranted a scream like that .

“Good Lord, are you okay?” Nan’s voice is filled with concern, but her expression remains neutral thanks to the sheer number of injectables in her face.

Not that she would ever admit it.

I’m honestly surprised it still moves.

“Sorry about that. Charley horse,” Benjamin forces out through gritted teeth before turning to Pops. “And work is going well—really well, in fact.”

I move to nudge him again with the fork, but he easily pries it from my grasp before I can make contact.

“I’m up for a promotion,” he says, his features tightening as he turns toward me. “I’ll be traveling to our affiliate offices around the state more, but I think this could be a good move for my career.”

He’s shown up to every Sunday dinner for the past year, where we eat off Nan’s finest china and present a version of ourselves that doesn’t exist in reality.

I’d run away to Colorado too…

“I hate to eat and run, but I have an early day tomorrow,” I announce, pushing back my chair. The heel of my shoe catches on the rug as I stand, sending me and the chair crashing to the floor.

“Mary Katherine, what on earth?” Nan exclaims as she rushes over.

“I’m fine,” I insist, my shoulders curling over my chest as I wave off her help. “I think my shoe was the only casualty.”

“What is this, duct tape?” she asks, picking up the broken heel for closer inspection. The black rubs off on her fingers, and she shakes her head in disgust. “Did you color these with a marker? I’d say it’s time to buy yourself some new shoes, missy.”

My lips flatten as I admit, “I can’t really, um, afford that right now, Nan.”

As it turns out, my sister makes more with a high school diploma than I do with a master’s degree, which would have been nice to know before I took on student loans.

“And that is why I have always told you girls that you have to work hard for what you want because why? ”

“Because there are no handouts,” I mutter.

Never mind that I’ve had these shoes for ten years. I got through graduate school by getting creative with permanent markers and tape. I can fix them again once I get home.

“Norma, leave it. The girls didn’t come here for a lecture. Come on. Let’s get you up, Katydid.” Pops helps me to my feet while Benjamin grabs my purse.

Dakota gazes down at the intricate design on the rug, carefully avoiding making eye contact with me. Which honestly makes me feel like even more of a colossal failure.

“Hey,” I say, limping over to where she stands. “I love you, you know that?”

“I love you more.” She pulls me into a bone-crushing hug before lowering her voice. “Next paycheck, we’re getting you some new shoes.”

“Stop. I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you,” I whisper, blinking back tears.

“You do.”

It doesn’t feel that way, though.

“I didn’t realize things had gotten this bad,” Benjamin says when we arrive back at my apartment building. “If I’d known—what I’m trying to say is that if you need money, I can help.”

Most of the drive was spent in complete silence, which gave me time to contemplate all the ways I don’t measure up.

“It’s not that bad,” I lie. Benjamin reaches for my hand as I’m getting out, stopping me. “I just need to up my patient load for a little while. Seriously, I’ll be fine.”

He carefully weighs his words before admitting, “Listen, for what it’s worth, I did love you. And I hate seeing you like this. Promise me you’ll call if you change your mind or need anything?”

His clenched half-smile and overall awkwardness are too much, and I offer him a tight nod before bolting across the parking lot. I don’t want to fall apart—not in front of someone who’s only being nice because they feel sorry for me .

I don’t want anyone’s pity.

By the time I reach my apartment, my bare feet are filthy, and I tiptoe down the hall to avoid transferring anything onto the carpet. I run a hot bath and turn on the small CD player on top of the hamper before climbing in, letting Mama Cass’s voice take me to a better place.

As she begs her lover to dream a little dream, I swipe at the mascara-laced tears coursing down my cheeks and try to sing along. My voice is severely off-key, something that only makes me cry harder.

I cry until I’m hiccupping, and my nostrils are clogged with snot.

I cry until the water turns cold.

I cry until I can’t even pinpoint what’s making me sad anymore.