End of Eternity 4

  End of Eternity 4

  By Loretta Lost

  Copyright 2015 Loretta Lost

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  No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.

  ― Heraclitus

  Chapter One

  Dr. Owen Phillips

  Waking with a groan, I place a hand against my temple to try to combat the throbbing ache. Drinking a six-pack all by yourself definitely feels different once you begin nearing thirty. My throat feels dry, and I could use a glass of water—but more importantly, I could use some comfort after the misery-inducing events of the previous night. Did any of that really happen, or was I just imagining it? Please, please let it all just be a drunken hallucination.

  Wincing at the pain, I reach to my side to feel for Carmen’s body. I have the urge to pull her against me and hold her tightly, like a child clutching their favorite teddy bear after a nightmare. Sadly, I know it was all real. This probably isn’t the most masculine reaction to having your ex-girlfriend get down on her knees and propose to you in front of your friends, but I don’t know what could be the right reaction.

  I gave a decent chunk of my life to Caroline, and she spurned me. Over and over. Now that I’ve finally gathered the courage to leave her and try to move on, she has come crawling back.

  It fucking hurts.

  Why do you have to leave someone in order for them to finally appreciate having you? It doesn’t make sense. That isn’t real appreciation. If I went back to her, she’d just get complacent again and go back to taking me for granted. I’d have to leave again and again in order to make her take me seriously. I don’t have the heart to play games like that for the rest of my life.

  I guess I just wish things had been different.

  “Carm,” I grumble, as I try to find her body in the midst of tangled bed sheets. I don’t want to risk opening my eyes and getting blinded by the morning sun. I am sure that will only feed the fire of my pounding headache. I reach all the way to the end of the bed, and I am startled by the fact that my hand has not connected with anything warm. There is only cold empty space.

  I force myself to be brave enough to open one eye. Groaning at the offensive light streaming through the curtains, I shield myself with my hands like a melting vampire. Do vampires even melt? Whatever. It is too early to answer the complex paranormal questions of the universe.

  “Carmen!” I call out lightly, imagining that she might be in the bathroom doing her makeup. I stretch out on the mattress with a yawn. “Come back to bed.”

  Hearing no response, I frown and open both eyes. Sitting up, I notice that Carmen’s purse is not on the bedside table. Her car keys are gone, along with her cell phone. A panic suddenly seizes my chest as I try to remember our conversation from the previous night. I rub my thumb and forefinger into my eyebrows, trying to knead the memories back into my skull. I know we talked about something. Did I upset her in some way? Fear gnaws at my stomach.

  Ripping the blanket off my legs, I step out of bed in my shiny, blue Superman boxers and squint at the bright sunlight. Yes, I realize that these boxers make me look like a five-year-old boy, but who doesn’t love Superman? More importantly, who doesn’t love peeing directly through the center of the Superman symbol, and being reminded that your penis is awesome? No one. That’s who.

  Speaking of peeing, it feels like a gallon of beer is straining against the confines of my bladder. I push down my bodily discomfort and focus on my determination to find Carmen before I relieve myself. Is she back to working on a way to bring justice to Brad? Or maybe she’s just sitting outside on the sofa and working on her fashion blog. Moving to the bedroom door and out into the center of the cabin, I look around for a head of voluminous blonde hair. Finding nothing of the sort in the cabin, I begin to worry. Did she go for a walk by the lake? Did she head to the store to grab some groceries or something? I scan all the surfaces for a note. Surely she would have left a note?

  Finally, I head to the front door and step outside onto the gravel ground in my bare feet. The sight that lies before me causes a little pang of anxiety to claw at me.

  Carmen’s car is gone.

  Rushing back into the house, I have to scramble around madly to find my cell phone. I knock over at least three small pieces of furniture and repeatedly injure my sensitive shins before I locate the small object. Rushing back to the front door, I call Carmen as I run a hand through my hair in frustration. The phone rings several times before she picks up, and I begin to pace frantically across the driveway. When the phone finally clicks in answer, I find myself blurting out words in a frenzy.

  “Carm?” I ask. “Where the hell are you? I woke up and you were gone. Your purse, your keys, your car…”

  “You wanted five more minutes,” she says with bitterness and disgust.

  A chill runs through me. I’ve never heard her speak to me in that tone. It’s the tone that my ex-girlfriend often used when she was sick of being around me. Carmen has never shown me this kind of cruelty. And what does she mean by five more minutes? I don’t remember saying that. “What?” I whisper in confusion. “Carm…”

  “I’m done with this, Owen. It was fun while it lasted, but you can stop pretending to be broken up with your girlfriend now. You played hard to get, and you won. You got what you wanted. She proposed to you and humiliated herself. For god’s sake, just go back to her.”

  My heart begins suddenly beating very quickly. What have I done? I must have done something. I can’t lose her. We haven’t had any time together, and it’s too soon. I can’t lose her now. “Carmen, where the hell is this coming from? Did I say or do something to offend you last night? Was it when I was drunk? Please, tell me I didn’t. I couldn’t live with myself if I ever did anything to hurt you. Nothing could make me hurt you.”

  I realize that I am rambling and that I sound like a moronic fool.

  “I’m going home, Owen,” she says in a decisive voice. “I’m going back to Brad. I’m going to finish what I started. You should go back to Caroline. It’s over between us.”

  As I pace in the driveway, the rough edges of the tiny rocks begin to dig into the soles of my feet. I ignore this as I quicken my pace and clamp my fingers down on my hair, threatening myself with pulling it out of my scalp in frustration. “Carmen? Fuck! Are you serious? What the hell?”

  I wait for her response, but there is nothing. The line goes dead.

  She hung up on me.

  I stare down the driveway where her car recently disappeared, feeling hurt and abandoned. I was so happy here just yesterday; happier than I have ever been. Why did Caroline have to come back into my life, completely uninvited, and stir up a sandstorm like this? I was just starting to feel like I was somewhere I belonged.

  I was just starting to feel like I had found a family. People I could actually be myself around.

  People who laughed at my jokes, even when they were trying their best not to laugh.

  People who cared about me.

  Have I lost all of that? And what could I possibly have done to make Carmen run away from me like this? What could I have said
to her? I barely remember the previous night. After my ex-girlfriend’s proposal, I think I must have spent the next few hours staring down at the bottom of a bottle until it was empty, and then repeating the process with another.

  Did I hurt Carmen? She’s been through so much lately. I know how sensitive she is, and how much she needed to feel safe. If I did anything to hurt her, I couldn’t live with myself. I deserve to be abandoned and dumped like a hot potato.

  Letting out a yell, I kick the nearest object, which happens to be the bumper of Liam’s shiny new car. His car is obviously much more expensive and well-made than mine, because the bumper wins and my foot begins hurting like a bitch. I grab my wounded toes and yelp a little, hopping around in my blue Superman boxers. I deserve this pain. I deserve worse. I deserve to marry an evil temptress like Caroline who will probably make my life hell for the next couple decades.

  When Carmen’s sister, Helen, steps out of the cabin with a mug of steaming coffee in her hand, she gasps and covers her eyes. “Oh my god, Owen. Put some clothes on!”

  “Psh. You love it,” I tell her in a halfhearted attempt at making a joke. I turn to the formerly blind girl and scan my brain for something that could resemble humor. “You went twenty-five years without even being able to see any naked men, and you expect me to believe that you aren’t thrilled about accidental Superman penis?”

  Helen sighs deeply. “I’m just going to leave your coffee here,” she says, bending down to place it on the welcome mat before disappearing back into the house.

  My smile and goofy expression immediately fade as I lean tiredly against Liam’s car. Is Carmen really gone for good? I can’t blame her if she is. Who would want to risk being with a guy who has as much baggage as I do? I’ll never escape Caroline.

  I’m going to have to go back to the apartment at some point to collect my things, and if she’s still there, I am sure that she will cry and hit me and try to manipulate me into having make-up sex with her. And because I’m weak, I just might. I could easily end up back together with her, in a relationship that borders on abusive. I hate hurting her feelings.

  What if I end up marrying her, after all?

  It’s just not fair. It’s not fair that she can easily get what she wants, when she wants it. Caroline has been playing a game of poker with my life, and she holds all the cards.

  But don’t women always hold all the cards, when it comes to love?

  It really sucks to be a dude sometimes. I know I’m supposed to be part of the powerful gender, and we might even seem tough to uninformed onlookers. But behind the scenes?

  We never really call the shots.

  Chapter Two

  Dr. Owen Phillips

  “Owen, man. You look like shit,” Liam says with concern. “Maybe you should have another cup of coffee.”

  “She’s not answering her phone,” I say as I frantically spam Carmen’s number with one phone call after another. “She’s not responding to my texts. How could I have pissed her off this much?”

  “Did you guys have a fight?” Helen asks as she brings over the frying pan and slides a freshly made omelet onto my plate.

  “I might have said or done something embarrassing or offensive last night when I was drunk out of my mind. That’s the only explanation,” I reason as I try to call her again.

  Liam shakes his head with a small smile. “Owen, everything you say and do is embarrassing and offensive. I highly doubt that’s the reason Carmen’s upset.”

  “But they’re jokes! I never really mean anything harmful. I thought Carmen knew that. What the hell did I do this time?” I ask with a groan, putting my face in my hands. “And what am I supposed to do now? She took her car! Liam, can I borrow yours to go after her?”

  “And leave us stranded in the woods?” Liam asks with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t think so, buddy. But I can drive you to the nearest town so you could get a car rental, or catch a bus ride back to New York.”

  “That could work,” I tell him, nodding eagerly. “When can you do it? Can you do it today?”

  “I could…”

  “Just relax, Owen. Maybe you should slow down a little,” Helen says, giving me a gentle kick under the table, “And eat your damn omelet.”

  “Can you try texting her, Helen?” I beg, ignoring the omelet and her kicking. “Please. Maybe she’ll respond to her sister.”

  “No way. I’m not getting involved in this,” Helen says with a sigh. “If my sister needs her space, I’m going to respect that.”

  I glare at Helen. “And what if she decides to do something stupid while she’s being over-emotional and ‘getting space?’ Don’t forget that she came out here to escape that psycho-freak Brad. What if she goes running back to him because she’s pissed at me, and puts herself in actual danger?”

  Liam and Helen are quiet for a moment as they look down at their breakfast plates and push small bites of food around thoughtfully. They really are becoming one of those couples who adopt each other’s habits.

  “I will send her a text,” Helen says finally, “but I trust my sister to make the right choices. If she left here in a rush, I’m sure there was a really good reason.”

  “You think I did something really horrible to her?” I ask, my voice wavering slightly. This is my worst fear.

  “No way, Owen,” Helen says softly, reaching out to pat my hand. “She probably just really needed space to clear her head. Carmen’s been through a lot lately, and sometimes it can be difficult to be around others when you’re fighting demons inside your own mind. Maybe she needed to get away—or maybe she had somewhere she needed to go, or something she needed to do.”

  “But I spoke to her,” I argue. “She yelled at me and said that I should go back to Caroline.”

  Helen and Liam look at each other again, and it annoys me that they are communicating without me so obviously.

  “Your girlfriend just proposed to you, man,” Liam says quietly. “Maybe Carmen’s right to bail. Don’t you need some time to figure your shit out? This is the woman you’ve been living with for years. A woman you would have given anything to marry only a few short weeks ago. This is a woman who left her family and her country so that she could stay here with you. And you’re not even going to consider it? Not even going to take some time to figure out whether you can salvage the relationship?”

  “No,” I respond firmly. “Caroline didn’t propose to me out of love. She did it out of jealousy. That’s not a good reason for anyone to get married.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t out of jealousy,” Liam says with a frown. “I think she genuinely didn’t understand that you weren’t happy all this time, and she is genuinely trying to make an effort to compromise and fix your relationship. It sucks that you were already trying to move on, but maybe this is a sign that you shouldn’t cut the cord just yet. You can’t just stop loving someone overnight, Owen.”

  “I know,” I tell him miserably, pressing my thumbs into my temples. “Trust me, I know.”

  Liam reaches out to clap his hand against my shoulder. “Maybe you shouldn’t let go. Maybe Carmen disappeared in order to give you some space to figure out what you really want. Maybe she needed to figure out what she really wants. Her husband just died, Owen. She is not really in any condition to be moving on just yet.”

  “She was with her husband for less time than I was with Caroline,” I say argumentatively. “And Caroline and I actually got along well for the most part; she didn’t go around raping me or people that I care about. No offense, Helen.”

  “None taken?” Helen says with her nose twisted into a scowl. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is that just because Carmen was married, doesn’t mean that her relationship was any more important or valid than mine. It makes perfect sense that she should be able to move on much more quickly and easily than I did. Also, it’s pretty clear that her husband gave up, totally and completely. He didn’t just take the last train out of the station; he took the last lifeboat
out to a deserted island with no cell service or mailing address! He didn’t just sign out; he uninstalled the messenger program and smashed the computer.”

  Liam looks at me for a moment. “It sounds like you understand where Caroline was coming from,” he points out. “With the whole not-wanting-to-get-married thing.”

  “Crap,” I say softly. “I guess you’re right. I guess it didn’t really define us, the fact that we weren’t married. Maybe I focused on it a little too much and let it get to me.”

  “It could be a cultural thing too,” Helen suggests. “Getting married and having a perfect family is sort of the American dream, but Caroline isn’t from around here. Maybe she simply grew up with different values, and was really trying her best to love you the way she thought you wanted.”

  “Maybe,” I mumble softly, “but her parents were always encouraging her to get married. It seemed like it was an expectation for her.”

  “It’s possible that she grew up around a lot of married couples who were really unhappy,” Liam suggests. “Maybe she wanted to avoid that expectation or societal standard, but still manage to have a healthy and solid relationship.”

  “Why are you both taking Caroline’s side?” I ask in annoyance. “You’re supposed to be my friends. You’re supposed to be team Carmen! So that the four of us can live happily ever after, and hang out and go on vacations for dozens of years to come. We’re supposed to have an epic double wedding, with two sisters and two best bros. I have it all planned out and it’s going to be great! So why are you sticking up for Caroline?”

  Helen sighs and leans back in her chair. “It would be great if you ended up with my sister, Owen… but our lives aren’t always puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly like that. You’ve already spent years writing the story of your life. You can’t simply discard the book to write a new one before you’ve concluded the story. You can’t just unwrite everything you’ve written.”

  “But I never intended to unwrite anything,” I say softly. “I just got really stuck on the first book. I had writer’s block for years, and I couldn’t seem to make any progress. I tried everything to get the plot moving, but the characters just felt really dry, and I couldn’t connect with them. So I’ve got this wonderful half-written book, but I need to put it up on the shelf, because I’ll never be able to complete it. It’s a bit sad to let go of this project I’ve been working on for so many years—and it will always have a huge place in my heart—but what else could I do? It just so happened that I was inspired to write a new story with a remarkable heroine named Carmen. It doesn’t mean that I’m completely tossing Caroline’s story out. I will go back and read it from time to time, but I can’t add anything new to it. I need to save my energy for something that has a real chance at a happy ending.”