SARAH

 

The day after I saw Josh, I was at home on my own, everyone else either at the office or attending to other things. I was sitting in the kitchen making myself a coffee. It was mid-afternoon and blades of sunlight glittered through the half-opened blind onto the kitchen floor in glimmering puddles. My sisters had very kindly brought into the kitchen a small table, as I couldn’t reach most of the work surfaces from my lowered position in the wheelchair. On it they had placed anything I might need to prepare food and drinks.

As I made the coffee, my phone went off in my lap and I picked it up. It was Karl. Since the accident he had inundated me with worrying calls and messages, constantly wanting updates on my progress. But I felt that this was merely a precursor to something else. During the week I was in the hospital, he had visited no less than four times, always when no one else was there. While sitting with me in my room, he’d say very little, just the usual questions about my prognosis. During those silent moments in between, I could tell that there was more he wanted to say, something he wanted to get off his chest, something eating at his heart like crows pecking at carrion.

I have to admit that I felt an annoyance at his presence, annoyance tinged with guilt. Because I knew what he wanted to say, and I didn’t want to hear it. He appeared to hold within him some vain hope that we would one day carry on where we left off. Whenever he’d look at me, I could see that inner hope shining within his eyes and I often felt inclined to turn away.

I answered the phone.

“Hey, Sarah,” he began, “I’ve just been out to the Miller Building, we’re making progress. Between us and Holcher, we now have eighteen. Only two more for the class action.”

“That’s great news,” I expressed warmly.

For the next few seconds he was silent though, and I felt that this had only been a piece of good news to start things off, a prelude.

“So anyways,” he continued after his pause, “I was in the area and wondered if I could come over.”

My stomach throbbed and I wanted to say no. But I agreed anyway, feeling that to do otherwise would be worse. It was terrible, but I felt persecuted by his need to be with me. The accident had shaken him up, and his desire to be near me was honorable. Nevertheless, his secret hope of a future us blemished this honor and made me recoil from him. I didn’t want to lead him on. Even though we’d only been together for three months, his feelings had quickly accelerated during that time and I felt caught out by the rapid speed of things. In the end I had had no other choice but to finish it before it got out of control. Because the truth was—and still is—I don’t love him in that way. Karl is a close friend, a confidante, a brother. But nothing more.

“Okay, I’ll see you in ten,” he said before putting the phone down.

True to his word, he arrived not more than ten minutes later. I opened the door, smiled and invited him in.

“I was making coffee,” I said as I wheeled myself into the kitchen, Karl following. “You want some?”

“That would be good,” he replied, taking a seat at the table while I returned to my little station.

“Are your legs still giving you a lot of pain?” he asked once he was seated.

“A little,” I replied as I poured the coffees, having brewed it while I’d waited for him to arrive. “The painkillers help, but they make me very drowsy.”

“That’s good,” he muttered as if he hadn’t really been listening and was thinking some other thought that had drowned out my voice.

There was silence for some time as I finished with the coffees and brought them over to the table. When I looked at Karl, I saw that he was biting his lip and his knee was wandering rhythmically in its usual nervous manner.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“You know,” he began in a somber tone, “when I first heard that you’d been involved in that accident, I had some kind of attack. I was at home when Lucy called to tell me. I suddenly felt unable to breathe, to think. I dropped the phone. Sweat came racing out of my pores and I thought I’d suffocate on the very air in the room. I had to lie myself down and wait for the attack to end.”

He looked right into my eyes as he said this, and I observed that there wasn’t much color in his cheeks. He’d clearly suffered as a result of me, and this made me terribly culpable under his gaze. He deserved so much more than the indifference of my heart, and if I could wish it to be true, I would wish to love this man, this humble, honest man, such a rarity in this day and age. In a logical world I would love him and give him what he deserves. But the human heart is not swayed by mere logic; it does not do as it’s told.

“I’m sorry that I made you worry,” I said.

“It’s okay,” he replied with a weak smile. “Plus, everything’s worked out good; the doctors say you’ll be perfectly fine. When do you reckon you’ll be back in the office?”

“Maybe another month. Dad’s been giving me some paperwork to look at while I’m housebound. The painkillers zap me out a little, so I’m not able to concentrate for long, but I can still be useful. I should be back in the office after my next operation in three weeks when they remove the pins.”

Karl allowed himself to grin.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” he said.

“This is the fifth time you’ve seen me since the accident eleven days ago!” I exclaimed.

“It’s not the same. Half an hour or so isn’t the same. I miss the whole day with you in the office, close beside you.”

“I’ll be back soon,” I said with an embarrassed smile.

“I miss you every time I go home at night,” he confessed. “Every time I draw the curtains and go to my lonely bed. I miss you all the way up until I walk through the doors of your father’s—”

“Karl, please,” I snapped, interrupting his flow. “We talked about this, you have to stop thinking like this.”

“But how can I help it when all day long all I see in my head is you?”

“You just do. We were friends for six years and together only three months. You’re one of my best friends, if not the best. I can’t lose you, Karl. You’re like the brother I never had.”

“Brother!?” he indignantly burst out. “You say that for six years we were friends. Well, I felt more than mere friendship to you. For six years I longed for you and then for three months I got you, only to lose you suddenly. I don’t think of you as my sister, Sarah, I think of you as my darling, my lover, my wife.”

This last word echoed around the room and we both sat in silence for nearly a minute afterwards, Karl’s eyes shining mercilessly at me from across the table.

“Please, Karl, understand that we can’t,” I pleaded when his gaze became unbearable.

“Why not? We were good together. Why suddenly stop? I just don’t get it. I see it in your eyes sometimes when we’re at work. I see that you still have feelings for me.”

“You have to stop talking like this. I told you, we’re better off as friends.”

“But why?”

“Karl, please don’t make me answer that.”

“I deserve an answer, Sarah. I deserve one.”

I closed my eyes to this. I searched deep inside and found nothing for him. I simply didn’t think of him like that; I simply didn’t love him.

But he was right, he did deserve an answer.

“I just don’t love you,” I stated clearly. “I thought I could. I thought I could love you. But after those three months, I just felt that it wasn’t right; I felt I was leading you along, that I was leading us along.”

“I can’t believe that,” he said, his voice trembling.

“You have to. I just don’t feel like that about you. And I don’t think I ever could.”

“Please, stop,” he muttered weakly.

“No, you have to listen to me. I’m sorry that you worry so much about me. I’m sorry that I dragged your heart into something that I couldn’t reciprocate. I truly am sorry for that. You’re a good man, Karl Leonard, a good, good man. But I just see you as my friend and colleague; not my husband.”

“And what about Josh Kelly?” he suddenly put to me in a bitter tone, taking me by surprise.

“What about Josh Kelly?” I said frowning.

“You’ve been to see him.”

“He saved my life, Karl. I went to thank him.”

“But I heard Kay talking to Lucy about it in the office. Apparently you’re planning on seeing him again. Why?”

“I might not. Our first meeting ended a little badly.”

“But you want to see him again. I see it in your eyes.”

“I feel some connection,” I said, wanting to be honest with him.

“Another lost cause, eh, Sarah?”

And he winked when he said this, pronouncing the words with such venom that a ball of fury opened up in me and I flashed my angered eyes at him.

“Yes, just like you were,” I replied wrathfully, regretting it terribly the moment I’d said it.

This appeared to drain the last of the color from his face and I was sure that he was going to cry, his moist eyes staring blankly across the table, my own still flashing. However, he didn’t cry and merely got up from his chair. Having not touched his coffee, he turned to me and said, “If you do happen to see him again, ask him about Heather Todd.”

Then he left the house, not even waiting for me to reply to his comment. When the sound of the door shutting behind him reverberated in my ears, I shuddered and let out a sad sigh. I wondered who Heather Todd was, what her connection to Josh could be, and what motive Karl had for dropping her name like that. His bitter tone told me that whoever she was, she would be a part of Josh’s dark past.