KIMBERLEE questioned her motives in going to yet another seminar about relationships. It certainly wasn't for the chance to be with Melissa in this particular environment. Ironically, her best friend would complain about her own husband, while searching for a better one for Kimberlee. It was hope that got her out of her condo, even after a long, stressful day at work. Hope that she'd learn something new; hope that she'd find the key to her dream; hope that somehow the partnership that eluded her would come within reach.

Though she felt pessimistic, it was hope that made her try one more time. It was also hope that had her marry Mathew. The hope that after their wedding, he'd resume being the affectionate and engaging companion he was during their courtship. When Mathew remained as distant as he had become during their engagement, despite the ring on his finger, she blamed it on her flaws. She set out to make Mathew love her more and want her more by perfecting herself.

She lost weight, she learned to cook the same meals as his mother, she even climbed mountains in the dead of winter. But nothing worked. After four years of trying, she concluded she lacked “the Grace Kelly gene.” This was the only way Kimberlee could justify why her husband never pursued her with gifts. Especially the ones she craved most: gifts of words and time and touch. Again, it was hope that had her leave Mathew. She'd rather risk being alone for the rest of her life to have a chance at the union she believed was possible. Yes, she wanted children and a family. But she needed support and attention, and laughter and passion. She wanted love and affection, and couldn't live without interest and respect. It wasn't hope that led her to Brett. That was pure chemistry and charisma. And for a while, it worked. He was attentive, romantic and fascinated by her thoughts and ideas.

For about three months. Then he, too, changed. When it was over, she realized that all the men she was ever involved with were wonderful — in the beginning. Why did this always happen? It wasn't when she finally slept with them. She'd tested that theory. They changed when I was caught and the pursuit was over. It was when I surrendered emotionally. That's when they stopped putting their best foot forward and the disappointing behavior began. This meant she needed a new strategy: Don't get caught; don't care more than they do. Or at the least, don't let them know she did. Protect her independence, no matter what. That seemed to be the only way to make men treat her well, for more than a few weeks or months. She was smart enough to see the conflict. Even though her most enduring relationship with a male was with her tabby cat, Lancelot, in truth she wanted to be caught. She wanted to be adoring and adored, worshipped and devoted. Yes, even at thirty-one, the picture of a successful and liberated woman, she still hoped for happily ever after. Kimberlee checked her appearance in the mirror, arranged her short dark hair, and added some pale pink lip gloss. Leaving Lancelot with a scratch behind his ears, she locked up and got in her BMW sedan. At a stoplight, she quickly checked her voicemail. A message from Melissa underscored her conflict: “Kimmee, I have the most adorable man for you to meet. I'll tell you about him tonight.” In resignation, she asked herself, But will he be adorable three months from now?