Setting: Season 8, a few weeks after "Forbidden Fruit."
Karen stood at the mini-bar in the living room, blissfully mixing herself a drink. Her staff was otherwise occupied, the stepkiddies had disappeared to their rooms after dinner to do their homework, and Stanley was around somewhere, probably in his library or watching television. Karen smiled to herself as she thought of the long evening of peace and quiet she had to look forward to, just her, her drink, and a fire roaring in the fireplace. Karen dropped an olive into her completed martini and took a test sip. Perfect.
She smiled and refilled the glass to replace the little bit she had just drank when she felt someone's eyes on her. Karen turned her head and saw Stan standing in the doorway, an odd expression on his face. "Oh! Hi, honey. You scared me a little bit. What's goin' on?" When he didn't answer, but continued to merely watch her, Karen chuckled at his stunned countenance. "What's the matter? The cable go out or somethin'?"
Karen turned her attention back to the mini-bar, closing containers and organizing the various bottles and supplies laid out across the countertop. Stanley continued to study her, a mixture of confusion, worry, and possibly even compassion playing on his features. He watched her intently tend to her liquor collection, rearranging the bottles with a clear system for order in mind. He hadn't the faintest idea of what to say to her, no clue where to even begin. At this point Stan was lucky if he could form a coherent thought in his own mind, let alone convert it into words and express it to someone else.
Karen turned back around to find him looking at her with an expression she had never seen before and she carefully set her drink down on top of the bar. "Honey. What happened?" She took a few steps towards him, realizing that he wasn't playing. "You're scaring me."
Without a word, Stan held up something that he had concealed in his fist since entering the room and Karen stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening and gasping silently.
She had left the key in the door.
"Oh, honey, I –. Well, I –." She trailed off as she saw his eyes. They looked hurt, confused, and a little remorseful. They questioned her, expressed everything without Stan having to say a word. "Stanley, I –. I wasn't –." Karen finally gave up and settled on watching him, waiting for Stan to react, to do something, anything. She bit her lip and waited in agonizing silence, twisting her rings restlessly on her fingers in anticipation.
Karen had every intention of never telling Stan what was in that room. They had lasted this long without addressing it and to do so now would be irrelevant and fruitless. But now that he knew there was nothing she could do but stand there and take whatever it was that he had to dish out. By the look in his eyes, Karen could tell that he didn't have the slightest notion of what to do or say. He was no doubt flabbergasted, but she couldn't help but notice that he looked wounded as well. Betrayed that she hadn't run into his arms all those years before to happily tell him that she thought she was pregnant and then back into his arms for comfort when she found out that she wasn't. There was also a look of sadness present there, maybe even along with some guilt, as if he felt like he had done something wrong by not being there for her even though he had no idea what had happened.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Stanley," she finally said when Karen realized that he wasn't going to initiate any sort of conversation. "It's just that –." She took a few more steps towards him and stopped, not knowing whether or not this was a good reason, second guessing herself every moment. His expression deepened, urging her forward, his curiosity piqued. He needed to know. He deserved to know, and she knew that.
"It's just that I didn't want to disappoint you." Stan looked truly shocked at this and Karen plowed ahead before he had a chance to respond. "I could handle my own reaction, but I couldn't deal with anyone else's. I thought I could get over it myself. I made Rosario and Mason promise not to tell you about the room. Yes, he knows," she added when Stan's eyed widened. "He found me in there the day I found out I wasn't pregnant." She paused for a long second before adding, "Eight years ago," with a small cringe, fearing that the extreme amount of time she'd held the secret would anger her husband.
Karen turned her back to Stan and waited for however he decided to react. He knew and now there was no going back. The secret was out; it was no longer hers. Instead of hearing his voice bellow across the room as she fully expected, Karen suddenly felt Stan wrap his arms around her from behind. "I'm sorry, Kar," he whispered into her hair and she relaxed, settling backwards into him and letting him hold her. Stan kissed the side of her head and tightened his arms around her, his hands coming to rest on her empty stomach. Karen squeezed her eyes shut and covered his hands with her own, finding comfort and an odd sense of closure in his warm embrace. Maybe now that Stan knew the truth, they could move on. Together.