CHAPTER SIXTEEN - CAROLINE

Later that week, I was on yet another blind date. Despite my separating from them, my parents continued to fix me up with eligible bachelors. Typically, the guys were related to powerful business men who worked with my father. Dad always tried to make sure he provided me with a plethora of wealthy men to choose from. Somehow, I could never see past their connection to my parents. Even though most were nice and some even seemed marginally romantic, I never felt anything for them. Not once.

Tuesday night, I was on a date with Nicolas Marks. His father worked with mine and we’d seen each other in passing at multiple events. Still, this was the first time we were officially introduced.

“Hi,” I said as I walked into the restaurant. Nicolas was waiting for me right by the door. He smiled and extended his hand for me to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I feel like we’ve already met,” Nicolas said with a kind laugh. “Our families have been circling each other for years.”

“I suppose they have,” I said, a strained smile on my face.

“Well, shall we?” Nicolas offered me his arm and led me toward our table.

He was a gentleman, going so far as to pull out my chair and ask me what I wanted to drink so he could order it for me. Everything he did was sweet and caring. As we ordered our meal, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Nicolas was nice, sweet, and cute. My body didn’t ignite at the sight of him but I thought, maybe, he was worth a real chance.

As the evening progressed, Nicolas asked me countless questions about myself. He seemed genuinely interested in my art degree, asking why I left Yale for a lower rated university.

“I felt more at home there,” I said honestly. “Yale was amazing. Of course, it’s the dream for most people but for me, it just wasn’t. I knew immediately that I wanted something different. It wasn’t until art school that I really discovered what I wanted to do with my life.”

“That’s amazing,” Nicolas said, though I wondered if he meant it. “I wish I had the courage to do something like that.”

“What do you do?” I asked politely.

“I work for my father,” Nicolas said. “It’s great, though. I’ve been around the business my entire life, so I already know my way around the place. Everyone treats me with so much respect. It’s awesome.”

I smiled but felt myself being slowly turned off. It wasn’t uncommon for my blind dates to work for their fathers. In this world, everyone remained in the family business. It shouldn’t have surprised me but still, I couldn’t help but become disinterested.

“That’s wonderful,” I said without meaning it. “What about in your free time?”

“I love to travel,” Nicolas said. “I’m actually going on a trip to Argentina in a few weeks.”

“Wow!” I said, my interest coming back. “I’m jealous!”

“Yeah,” Nicolas said with an excited nod. “I can’t wait. The company is sending me on my own for the first time and—”

I tuned out as he continued to explain his reason for the trip. When he said he loved to travel, I thought he meant for pleasure. While he droned on and on, I found it hard to keep myself focused on his words. Then, he pulled me back in with another question about myself.

“What are your dreams?” he asked softly, leaning forward as he if he wanted to make the moment more intimate. “What do you want out of life?”

“Well,” I said. “I’m hoping to open my own art gallery one day soon. Right now, I work at one but I’d like to own my own.”

“How will you make that work?” he asked, his voice turning professional. “I mean, competitively. What will your gimmick be? Your hook?”

“I want to add a café,” I said simply. “It’ll be an art gallery and a café combined. I’ll bring in live music and things like that.”

I wasn’t doing a great job of explaining my idea but it didn’t matter. I already knew this would probably be my first and last date with Nicolas Marks.

“You know,” Nicolas said thoughtfully. “I have a buddy who works over at Blue Diamond Bank. I could talk to him about a line of credit, if you wanted.”

It was a kind gesture but the thought made my stomach churn. Nicolas was just being nice but it felt like yet another person trying to buy me. If he managed to convince his friend to give me a loan, what then? Would I be obligated to date him? And if I didn’t, would he then pressure his friend to halt my loan? Would I lose everything simply because I wasn’t interested in Nicolas?

“That’s so kind of you,” I said, my voice sickly sweet. “But, I just don’t think I could put you in that position.”

“Oh, it would be nothing!” he insisted. “Darren is a good buddy. He’d do it just as a favor to me.”

“I know,” I said, nodding. “And that’s so generous but I think this is something I really need to do on my own.”

“Well, just keep the thought in mind,” Nicolas said. His face fell slightly, and I could tell he was disappointed.

The rest of dinner progressed quickly. We didn’t have much to talk about after the subject of a loan died away. Nicolas once again told me stories about his job and how excited he was to get more responsibility. I knew these stories were probably golden with other women but for me, they fell flat. I’d spent my entire life around guys just like him, and I just wasn’t impressed.

We said good night and went our separate ways, promising to talk soon. I already knew I wouldn’t see him again. At least, not romantically. Nicolas seemed like a truly nice man but I simply could not see myself dating him. He just wasn’t the kind of man I imagined myself with.

As I drove home, my thoughts turned to the one man I ever saw a future with. Dean Evans never left my mind or my heart. No matter how far I’d come since that summer, I still couldn’t shake my memories of him. Dean was my first love and after him, I never met another guy who inspired or attracted me.

I would never forget everything Dean did for me. He pushed me out of my shell, forcing me to make a decision about my own life. For the first time, I rebelled against my parents when I dated him. After that, I never stopped wanting freedom. Dean gave me my first taste of a life all my own and ever since, I’d been striving for just that.

Still, it hurt to remember him. Thinking about the last time I saw him brought tears to my eyes. After all these years, it was still hard to picture him in that prison. His eyes were so dark that day, so defeated. I knew his words to me were all lies but that didn’t take away the pain. I cried in that parking lot for hours, just trying to find the strength to move on.

When I left that day, I thought I had, but I was wrong. Not even two weeks later, I found myself right back at the prison. I stood in line for admission to the visiting area only to find that Dean wouldn’t see me. I begged the guards to let me speak to him but they refused, saying it was up to Dean to decide. No matter how many times I sent the guard back to ask, Dean kept refusing. After that, I left for Yale and hadn’t seen him for seven long years.

Still, his face stood out clearly in my mind. As I pulled up to my apartment and climbed the stairs to my front door, I saw his blue eyes swimming before me. Even in my memories, they were so beautiful that I longed to press my lips against him. It physically hurt to think about him but I’d grown used to the pain over the years.

I laid in bed that night, remembering everything.

“Please,” I cried to the guard. “Just ask him one more time. Please.”

“He doesn’t want to see you,” the guard said, a hint of pity in his voice. “I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”

“Does he know it’s me?” I asked. “Caroline Michaelson?”

“He knows,” the guard said for the tenth time. “He knows and he still said no. I’m sorry, but it’s time for you to leave. Just go home.”

“I can’t just leave!” I cried. “Not without seeing him. Please!”

“Miss,” the guard said, his voice firm. “Is this the life you really want for yourself? Take my advice, go home. Go back to your old life, okay? Dean Evans is gone. The man you knew is gone.”

The guard’s words echoed through my mind even years later. As I curled myself around my blankets, I heard them over and over again like a mantra. Those were the words I held on to for seven years. “Dean Evans is gone. The man you knew is gone.”

Maybe the guard was right. Maybe Dean was no longer the man I knew. It wouldn’t have been crazy to believe prison changed him but still, I held out hope. Even after he was released, I secretly wished he would come find me. I prayed he would run to me, apologize for breaking my heart, and tell me how much he still loved me. I hoped so hard that I managed to convince myself it would really happen.

It didn’t. Instead, Dean left town, and I never saw him. Not once in seven years. Now I was forced to live the rest of my life with nothing more than a memory to hold on to.

As I fell asleep that night, I pictured Dean lying beside me. His arms were around me as he whispered soft “I love yous” in my ears.