September 17th, 1988

She was starting to forget that night, he could tell. Three years could definitely heal the wound he inflicted that Thanksgiving. Breaking her heart like that. He was surprised she could ever smile at him again. The year following the night Grace kicked him out was no doubt the hardest time he had to endure. Maybe he spoke too soon. Grace was the only woman he had ever been in a serious relationship with, and he couldn't find a logical explanation for why he was no longer interested. So he gave her the only one he could think of.

He didn't really think it could be wrong.

Three years. In that time, he could have moved on, forgotten about everything, but once she came back into his life, Will knew that that would never happen. And instead of going out on his own, he spent three years trying to mend his relationship with Grace and waiting for some man to love him like he thought he could love them back. But when they didn't, Will didn't really feel anything. He wasn't hurt, he wasn't surprised. A part of him felt relief.

Even when Grace did spend time with him, Will knew that she was still hurting. She was distant, and lately she was becoming even more so. It pained him to think this way, but maybe what they needed was a little time apart. Being with her every day, although being the way he would choose to spend his days, wasn't necessarily helping their situation. They tiptoed around the reason they stopped talking in the first place, never sitting down to talk it out. And as much as he wanted to say something about it, he didn't want to destroy the progress, however small, they were making.

She was starting to forget that night. But he knew a part of her would never let it go.

Grace was silent tonight, staring blankly out the window of the café they had been to a thousand times before, nursing a cup of coffee, just going through the motions. Will watched her as the electric glow of the city made her shine, drowning in his attempts to make conversation, and knew that if he left, they could both clear their minds, they both could mature and when he returned, maybe they could finally touch upon all that they've been avoiding. Maybe they wouldn't be stuck anymore.

Maybe.

He could find a place to stay. A hotel in Greenwich Village, perhaps. Grace has never been to that part of the city, wouldn't think to look for him there, wouldn't know her way around. Three years away from Schenectady, and she was still pretty unfamiliar with the city, always relying on Will to guide her. He was always able to figure out his surroundings quickly.

No one would know him there. Since Grace never ventured out to that part of New York, Will never had either. He could be a completely different person. He could be the person he is supposed to be. Just take two months to sort things out. Come back refreshed, ready to handle whatever he needed to handle.

Grace looked at him for a moment, gave him a half-hearted smile. He had to do this soon, drop her off and go pack, maybe write her a little something so she doesn't worry. Not to let her know where he's going, exactly, just that he'd be back soon. Sure, she'd probably be upset at first, but give her a couple days, and she'll realize that it's for the best that he left for a little while.

He hadn't touched his coffee; he had too much on his mind, forgot it was even sitting in front of him. He returned her smile and broke the silence.

"You ready to go?"

Grace nodded, stood up and eased her way into the coat he held out for her. She had deluded herself for so long into thinking that their silence was a comfortable one, coming from a relationship where nothing needed to be said, but now she knew better. She had to do something, no matter how small, to let him know that she put everything behind her. It was all in the past; she didn't want it to ruin their friendship. He didn't see her watching him as he put on his coat. As he turned around, Grace folded him in her arms, some sort of sign that she still wants to be in this for the long haul. She still wanted to be his friend.

God, he wished she hadn't just done that. He didn't want anything to make it harder to leave her. But he had to do it. He had to.

And when he dropped Grace off, he dialed the phone.

"Yeah, hi. I was wondering if you happened to have a room available. I'm arriving tomorrow, hopefully. Yes, I know it's short notice, but anything will do. You do? Great. Will Truman. Thanks."

Everything in motion. It's for the best, he kept telling himself.

It has to be done.

Another year, another life, another chance to slip away from the grasp her mother seemed to have on her, even when she wasn't there. The woman had her transform into so many people in the sixteen years she had with her, helping her dig a hole so deep the only way to get out was to keep lying. A sick system, but it somehow worked for her. But she wasn't going to drag Karen with her. No, she got out as soon as she could, never looked back. She grew up the day they sat her down to tell her that her father died. She didn't need her mother anymore.

Greenwich Village. She never thought she would end up here. Then again, she never thought she would end up in half the places she landed in to try to make a home. Stan hated that she wouldn't move in with him; he had been trying to push her to do it for a year now. But if she had to be honest, the loft had a certain charm to it.

If she had to be honest, she wasn't sure she could live with him, anyway.

He was ready to pull her into a world she knew she would never be able to fit into. Power, wealth. People knowing exactly who you are, who you're connected to, and once they realize it, they cling to you. They'll pretend to be your friend so they can get what they want, but when it comes down to it, they are never truly there for you. There were more lies in Stan's world than there were when she was living with her mother. She just couldn't do it. But she could never tell him that. He expected her to conform to that. He loved her.

At least that's what she thought. He could be lying to her like everyone in his world was surely lying to him. She couldn't tell anymore. He was so sweet and humble when they first met, and she was so certain that he was different. He was real. But as he started showing his true colors, Karen wondered what exactly it was she had gotten herself into.

She wondered if it was worth it.

Stan was gone, left two weeks ago; he'd be gone for three months. Something about business deals in a few different places, she couldn't remember anymore. He had wanted her to go with him, keep him company. She just couldn't do it. She couldn't see more of his world, not yet, not when she isn't prepared for it. He called once in the two weeks he was gone; the call couldn't have lasted longer than three minutes. She wondered when it had gotten to that point, why she had been so oblivious to it.

She needed a change. And it wasn't going to happen laying around her apartment in the time that he was gone. She was free, didn't have to worry about where he was, if he was going to find out where she had been, what she was doing. He was in another country, watching his business grow, raking in more cash and getting more involved with the society he had come to know all too well. She didn't want to be a part of it, and she got her wish, at least for now.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she was going to get up, do something, stop waiting for something that won't come along unless she takes action. Because she knew if she kept going the way she was, when Stan would get back she would be right where he left her. She needed to feel alive; she needed to see what she was missing out on.

She needed to see if Stan was actually worth it.

Karen climbed into bed, draped the sheets around her. Watched as the headlights from the street shone on the walls, running across them, a frenzy. They were going somewhere, and she only hoped that she would be too.

She closed her eyes, trying to find sleep, to shut her mind off. Already she was doubting herself. If she had been going along with Stan for this long, what's a little longer? What would it hurt? No. It's for the best, she thought, trying to reassure herself.

It has to be done.