September 1994

Marry me.

Out of nowhere. Casual. As if it weren't such a loaded statement—statement, not even a question. Wasn't it supposed to be a question? Wasn't it supposed to be well thought out, perfectly planned? Or did that only happen in cheap fiction? Some tired stereotype that no one can really handle anymore? Marry me, like he was telling her that they were out of milk. Marry me, like it was expected of her to comply to this, just like everything else in this life she wanted out of.

Okay, it might not have been out of nowhere. To be honest, he could have said any number of things and would have been unable to get her attention. Maybe he was introducing this proposition in the time she was flipping through the pages of her magazine, trying anything to get the sound of his voice out of her ear. But those two words had rung in ear like a gunshot. You couldn't do anything to keep from hearing it. Oh god. Maybe if she didn't respond, he would let it go.

Karen. Or not. Marry me.

She had stared at him for what seemed like hours, concocting some sort of response that seemed appropriate. The best she could come up with: Let me think about it. Not what he was looking for. She hadn't cared. You can't catch her off guard like that and expect things to go your way, not when it's something like this. Karen had gotten up from her seat after that, and left without explanation.

In the cab, she wondered what Will would say when she told him. If he would laugh at him—was it okay to laugh? It did seem pretty ridiculous; there was no way that Stan had such a life-altering epiphany in the time that she was gone—in the time that she and Will were in between the sheets planning their scheme to start over—that made him see the error of his ways and therefore wanted to make things right. It seemed a little too precious for her. But those two words are not to be thrown around; they are not to be taken lightly. He had to have been serious.

Maybe Will would steal her away before she had a chance to break Stan's heart in person.

She dashed into the building on Riverside Drive. Let me think about it. God, was he that naïve? She had thought about it long before he even asked—sorry, stated. She had no intent of marrying him, as long as she was with Will. And if she ever had any desire to walk down the aisle with Stan one day, she couldn't remember why. It wasn't as if she so desperately wanted to be a part of what he was willing to offer her. She would be foolish to try to fit back into that life, when Will had done nothing but nurture her, give her all that she deserved. What more could she ask for? Karen had seen all that she could have; she wasn't about to go back now. She reached the ninth floor, walked across the hall to Will's apartment. Wait. What the hell?

The door was locked.

Karen pulled on the knob. This never happened before; Will always kept the door unlocked for her, even when he was out of the building. She didn't understand. She put her fist to the door, knocked a few times. "Will?" she called out. "Why is the door unlocked? Are you okay?" No answer. She knocked again. "Will, come on, honey, it's me. I need to tell you something. Will?"

The door opened and she stood there like stone, unable to move. "Can I help you?"

"Oh my god," she mumbled. For a quick moment, she felt as though she were trespassing. Until she remembered that six months ago, he decided to leave this place, thereby leaving it up for grabs. She had done nothing wrong; of this she was sure. "What the hell are you doing here?" How quickly she could turn from a small childlike girl to an adamant woman.

Why hadn't she tried this out more often with Stan?

"Excuse me?" Michael was enjoying this; she could tell. How the tables turned in a matter of months. She remembered when she was on the other side of the door, trying not to sound too offended by his harsh attitude towards her, when they never met before then.

"I'm sorry, I just…I wasn't expecting you to be here. Is Will around?"

"You know what? You just missed him. He went out to grab some coffee. I can tell him that you stopped by, if you want. Maybe he can call you."

Damn him. Who the hell did he think he was? Michael didn't spend the last six months with him. Michael didn't fit in to their plans. She's invested too much into this; Will wouldn't choose him over her. God, what was she thinking? Of course Will would choose him. He was the boyfriend. And they said this couldn't last forever.

"Actually, could I wait until he comes back? I just want to tell him something and then I'll leave the two of you alone."

"Yeah, I guess. Have a seat on the couch." Said like it was his. It was his. She had merely wrongfully claimed it for herself. She had merely wrongfully claimed a life with Will for herself.

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October 1999

Rosario let him in when she answered the door, and he couldn't figure out why. He felt like he was trespassing here; he was not allowed past this door. It was a risk to even be here; he just needed to see Karen, to talk to her, he was beyond reasoning. He shouldn't be here. But she let him in. And before Will could say anything to her, she was gone, fled off to some corner of the manse. Left to his own devices. He walked around the empty first floor, knowing that it was late. She was probably asleep. She was probably next to him. He didn't want to think about it.

But it was reality.

Up the stairs, Will came across the master bedroom. The door was open halfway, as if the ones on the other side were a bit wary of inviting people in to take a look. He couldn't resist. In the blue darkness of the room, he could still make out the bed, someone in it. Wait. Where was Karen? He could only make out Stan. But look, down the hall. The light coming out from that doorway. He was almost mesmerized by it, made his way towards it.

She was sitting on a mattress, hands in her lap, eyes on her hands. If only he knew why she kept running. If only he could stop her mind from spinning so it can land on happiness. He did it five years ago. Maybe he was a little rusty. "Hey," he whispered. Karen whipped her head around and stared at him, wide-eyed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Her whisper was strong, almost angry. "He's down the hall, he could see you."

"I just needed to see why you won't give yourself completely. I needed to see what was so special about this place that you had to keep coming back."

Karen turned her gaze back to her hands. "I don't have anything else."

Maybe it was the back and forth that made her say it. Maybe she was playing with him this whole time. Or maybe she thought she did irreversible damage that would somehow make him able to throw her away at any moment. But he wanted to make the truth known. He walked over to her, knelt down to her level and lifted her chin so he could see her eyes.

"You've got me," he said simply.