Page 181 of Untouchable
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He sighed and rubbed his jaw with his hands.
She thought of something and decided she might as well say it. “I rereadHamletlast week.”
He looked surprised and arched his eyebrows. “Did you?”
“Yeah. And I realized I’d always been interpreting it wrong.” He didn’t answer, but she saw he was listening, so she continued. “Shakespeare wasn’t writing a Greek tragedy, where fate or the gods determine the course of a man’s life. Hamlet was lying to himself when he said so. Shakespeare goes out of his way to show that the final outcome could have been different—could have been so much better—if any of the characters at any given moment had made a different choice.”
Caleb’s eyes had narrowed as he thought through what she’d said. “So that’s your answer? Just choose to make all of what happened go away?”
She sighed, feeling suddenly heavy and exhausted. “No. That’s not really what I meant. Just that there’s always more than one choice.”
It evidently didn’t matter what she meant since Caleb seemed to have already made his choice.
He said at last, “I guess it’s better to end it like this than like before.”
“Yeah.” She nodded since his decision was now clear and she was going to respect it. But as she stood up and smoothed down her skirt, she couldn’t help but add, “Are you sure it has to end? I’m not saying we should plan a honeymoon, but… isn’t there something in between?”
Caleb stared at her a long time. “Not for us. I don’t think so.”
“But it seemed like…” She shook her head, wondering why she was even pressing it. It was clear that he didn’t want to make an effort toward a relationship, and she should just accept it andleave him alone. “It seemed like you wanted something more. It seemed like trying for something more than casual sex… made you happier.”
“It was a lie that made me happy. It wasn’t you.”
And that hurt so much she sucked in a sharp breath and stared down at the floor. He was being honest with her. Maybe he’d intended it to hurt, but he wasn’t saying it only to hurt her.
“I don’t think it was the lie that made you happy. I think the lie only made it safe for you to take the chance. I think it was the relationship that made you happy.” Her heart was racing and it felt like the blood had drained out of her face, but she made herself say all of it. All of what she’d been thinking through for the past two weeks. “I think being that man made you happy. The man who was you—but also a little better than theyouyou’d been before. Just like I was happier being themethat I never thought I could be. The me who is…” She cleared her throat as her voice cracked. “The me who is better with you.”
Something in the words must have affected Caleb because he gave the slightest wince. But he got control of it almost immediately and shook his head again. “What a lovely little fairy tale it’s turned out to be then.” There was a bitterness in his voice now that she didn’t like, that hadn’t been there before. “I guess all the lies and betrayal have been for the best then,” he continued, “since the ending is so sweet and romantic.”
“Nothing can excuse what I did,” Kelly said softly after a moment of processing his irony. “But I do think we’re better off now.”
Caleb stared at her, evidently speechless at what she’d just said.
Kelly felt the same way. Had to make herself think back over the words she’d just spoken. Wondered where they’d come from, after the life she’d led, after everything she’d done.
Then she suddenly realized something.
It was true. What she’d just said was true. It was a real revelation, the kind she’d rarely experienced before. The knowledge had come down on her like a gift or a benediction.
A final, poignant benediction to the past seventeen years of her life.
“I am better off now,” she breathed when she could shape words again. She wasn’t hopeful, wasn’t optimistic, didn’t think this realization would change anything but her with its harsh, inexorable grace. “I can’t speak for you, but I know I am.”
Caleb was still staring at her, and his defenses seemed to be lowered enough to reveal an agonizing confusion.
She reached out to put her hand on his arm. “I am better off now. I’m a better person. And loving you is one of the things that has made me so.”
Saying she loved him was evidently a mistake, although she wouldn’t have been able to predict it. As soon as she spoke the word, his face contorted with an intensity she didn’t immediately recognize.
With a violent tug, he pulled his arm out of her grip, and the momentum of his arm caused her to stumble backward. She didn’t fall, but she was shaken and disoriented by the sudden move.
“I think you better leave,” he said.
He’d made his choice long before she’d come to his office like this. And the sex—however good it had been, however real it had been—hadn’t changed anything at all.
She nodded in resignation. “Okay. I will.”
Her mother died the next week, and Kelly buried her next to her father’s grave.
