March 4th 1997

She stared at his hand, extended to her like an offering he knew she wanted. She would love nothing more than to take it without hesitation, without worry, but her past relationships had jaded her to the point where she was distrusting of everyone. And when someone finally broke through that, and she believed that they were the one to prove her wrong, eventually they would do something to make her wish that she had never let her guard down. They left, they cheated, they lied, broke promises. And as intrigued as she was by Will, who was still a stranger to her, she didn't think she could go down this path again.

"Karen," he said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Her head jerked up to meet his eyes. What surprised her at first was her name spilling out of his lips. It was the first time he ever spoke it in her presence. He handled the two syllables with such delicacy, something she had never heard before. Stan had never really given it any thought; he just threw it around in passing. But Will knew how to say it. Then she registered what he had said after that. Did he say it just to be safe? Or did he actually know why she didn't automatically agree to go with him? How is it that he knows everything about her without her having to tell him?

The look in his eyes when he smiled seemed to light up everything around them. Maybe he was different. Maybe he was the one to break the cycle. And even if he weren't, she would always have Stan to go back home to. True, their passion, their love, was dwindling as the days went on, but he hasn't made any attempt to leave yet, and at the moment, she wasn't planning on it herself. She slipped her hand into his and took a breath to speak.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," he replied, leading her away from the restaurant.

He took her to a subway station, and for a moment, she refused to walk the steps to the train. Stan had always told her never to get caught in a situation where she had to use the subway. It was dangerous, he said, and the two of them were "too good" to take public transportation like that. She wondered what exactly qualified her as too good, but she was more concerned with the fact that he said it was dangerous. Will tugged on her hand. "Come on," he said.

"We really have to take the subway?"

"Unless you have a better way to get downtown quickly."

She told herself that she wasn't going to hurt her, that he had promised her before they left, and decided that if she were with someone else, the danger level would go down a bit. She nodded her head to let him know that she'd go along; he paid for her fare and led her onto the train.

Happy to finally be aboveground again, Karen asked him once again where they were going, impatient like a child. He laughed when they reached Fifth Avenue and said, "We're almost there. Look, you can see the arch already," pointing straight ahead.

The arch. She remembered that arch, vaguely. That didn't make sense, though. She and Stan never go downtown, she never would have been able to see this before. Then she realized that she had been here before. God, it had been so long since she lived down here. She couldn't have been more than seven, eight years old. She only got to see it on the way to her apartment, or on the way to school; she was never allowed near it.

They walked to a path that led them inside the park as she looked to her left at the apartments that stood on the other side, trying to pick out her old bedroom window. Will was watching her, smiling. Her look was so intense, he found, like she was fully concentrating on the buildings across from them. "Know someone who lives there?" he asked, guessing that that was what she was thinking about.

She shook her head. "My mom and I lived here for about a year. I was really young." They stopped and she pointed to a window near the top of the building. "That was where my bedroom used to be. I really hated her that year; my dad died, and we moved right after we buried him, like we were just supposed to forget that he was there and move on. I couldn't do it. I didn't really talk to her that year, I just spent my time in my room, looking out at the park, thinking about him." She stopped for a minute before looking at him. She winced. "Oh god. I can't believe I just told you that."

Will pulled her closer. "I'm so sorry," he said, his condolences coming about thirty years too late. He tried to change the subject. "I bet you spent a lot of time in the park, too."

Karen remembered her mother's voice, warning her against going out that way. "Listen to me, you are never, never to set foot in that park, do you hear me? It's too dangerous, Kiki." She wanted to shudder at the thought of that horribly ridiculous nickname her mother gave her, that she loved and hated in equal measure. "No," she replied to Will. "I never got the chance to come out here."

He tightened his grip on her hand. "Then let me show you what you've been missing."

The few lights illuminating the land around them pointed out the fact that they were the only ones there. As they followed the path, she began to let her guard down, becoming more and more comfortable with him, laughing at his jokes, coming closer to his body, soaking up his warmth. They stopped by the playground, completely free of the laughing, screaming children that surely occupied it when the sun was out, when she asked him, "Why did you want to take me here?"

"I knew we would be safe here. Look, I know you're married. And as much as I tell myself that, I can't take my mind off of you. I didn't want you to run into your husband, or one of his friends, or one of your friends, while we were together. I couldn't stand myself if I was the one to ruin your life."

She started to smile, amazed at the fact that someone who barely knew her already had her best intentions in mind. She knew that he would take care of her, that even though they had spent so little time together, he would be the one she could depend on. She felt like that with Stan once. The feeling slipped away when she wasn't paying attention, at a time when she couldn't keep her hold on it. Karen didn't want it to slip away now. She wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face in his chest and spoke, her words muffled by his jacket. "I want to see you again."

He lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. "Tomorrow night, outside of the restaurant? Nine o'clock…you know, so I can actually make good on that dinner invitation."

She laughed. "I would love that."

Will took her hand and led her on the path, back to where they started. She looked back at her old bedroom window, wondering how long Will had lived in the city, wondering if maybe she found him outside her window playing in the park with friends, with his parents, and took comfort in the possibility. They were about to cross onto Fifth Avenue when she stopped him.

"Wait," she said. "I never got to see the arch up close like this before."

She tilted her head up to take in as much as she could. For a moment, she looked at him to see if he was doing the same, but he was only looking at her. She turned to him. Will brushed her hair behind her ear, leaned in, brushed her lips against hers under the arch. He tasted sweet, something she never experienced with anyone else. And when they pulled away, she couldn't help but smile. It wasn't like her dream.

He lingered.