“What if what was in there is gone now?”
“Is it gone?” she counters.
I thought so. Until she came back. Now, I’m not so sure.
“I don’t know . . .” I lift my hand to thread my fingers through hers. I search her eyes for any sign that I should stop before I drop my forehead to hers. Her heavy breaths mingle with mine, and I know she feels the pull that I feel.
All I have to do is press my lips to hers. It won’t magically fix everything that is wrong in my world right now, but kissing her will dull that ache spreading beneath our conjoined hands. Something holds me back, and I’m not sure if it’s fear of her possible uncertainty . . . or my own fear that there is too much standing between us now.
One of which has a name that we both know well.
“Ben?” My name on her lips acts like a bolt of lightning, striking my beaten and bruised heart with enough voltage to induce a whole-body shudder.
“I can’t. Not . . .” My eyes squeeze shut as I summon the strength to be honest with her. “Not yet, Ana.”
She doesn’t move, but I feel her withdrawing. That is not what I want. At all. I want nothing more than to take her mouth with mine, to throw myself into the sweetness I know will greet me. But not now.
I will not be that man.
“Why Tracy?” My eyes snap open at the surprisingly distant sound of Ana’s voice. I hadn’t noticed the moment she backed away, but now she stands a foot away from me, her hands at her sides as she stares at me. “Why did it have to be her?”
Aside from the fact that Tracy was there when Ana wasn’t, I don’t have an answer for that question. It is a question I have asked myself repeatedly over the past six months, and I still don’t have an answer for why I gave into Tracy that night.
“Tracy’s not . . . It’s not . . .”
“Not what I think?” Ana snaps. “I heard her, Ben. She said that was her house, too. Her house. The one that was supposed to be ours!”
“It is ours,” I fire back. “I mean . . . it was supposed to be ours. Tracy’s delusional if she thinks she has any part of it.”
“So why did she say that?”
“Because she helped me pick out some of the furniture,” I mutter. “I built the house. I bought everything that’s in it. It’s all mine. Not one thing in there is hers, nor ever will be.”
“But she stays there?”
I shut my eyes against the accusation I can’t stand to see in hers. “Sometimes.”
Ana pushes past me with a scoff, and retrieves the lasagna from the oven without another word. Grabbing silverware and plates from the cabinet behind me, she mutters, “We should eat before it gets cold.”
She scoops a big spoonful onto a plate and hands it to me. It looks and smells delicious, but the churning in my stomach prevents me from taking a bite.
“I’m breaking it off with her, Ana,” I announce softly.
She spoons a serving of lasagna for herself as if she doesn’t hear me. I watch as she moves to the island and takes a seat with her plate. She stabs at the steaming mound of cheese, noodles, and meat without so much as a glance in my direction.
“You think I don’t recognize when you’re freezing me out?” I chuckle humorlessly. “You’re mad. I get it, but I need you to say something.”
She sits back with a sigh, and glances at my face before settling her gaze on the center of my chest. “I’m not asking you to do that.”
“Maybe you should be asking me to,” I volley back.
She snorts softly. “I don’t have that right. Not anymore.”
“You don’t?” I push off the counter, and lean across the island so that she’s forced to look at me. “I died, Ana. It was a huge misunderstanding, but we didn’t exactly break up.”
“Maybe, but you’ve moved on as a result of that misunderstanding so—”
“Moved on?” I repeat indignantly. “Is that what you think?” I hold my breath, and wait for her to respond. When I realize she isn’t going to elaborate on what exactly she means by that, I drop my head with a heavy sigh. “I’m not breaking it off with Tracy because you asked me to, since you’ve made it perfectly clear that you aren’t asking me to. I’m doing it because I need to. I’m not in love with her, and I’ll never be in love with her. I was weak, and miserable, and in a bad place six months ago. Hell, I’m still all of those things, and she doesn’t need to be strung along by someone who can never give her what she needs.”
Ana lowers her head to toy with her food, effectively avoiding eye contact. I desperately want to know if she has moved on, but refrain from asking her now. Not when she’s shut off like this. Forcing her into a conversation she isn’t ready to have will only backfire. If I have any chance at making things right between us, I can’t risk pushing her away now.
To keep myself from doing just that, I shovel a bite of lasagna into my mouth. My eyes go wide as my taste buds remember the deliciousness of this particular meal. “Damn, Ana,” I moan. “Marly would be proud.”
She starts to smile before her lips reverse into a frown. “I haven’t done much for her to be proud of lately.”
Is that an opening? I wait her out, waiting to see where she goes with that statement before I jump in with leading questions. I know this girl. I know what makes her tick, and can use that to my advantage.
“She left the house to me,” Ana continues, “and look at what I’ve done with it. I’m going to be forced to sell it.”
“That’s what you’re in town for?” I guess.
“No.” She glances up with a wry smile before digging something out of her pocket. To my surprise, she tosses the photograph I left behind in her apartment in Philadelphia onto the counter in front of me. “I found this.”
I stare at the familiar image. I’ve seen other pictures of her—that Mama took while we were dating—but this one is my favorite. My fingers greedily scoop it up. “I can’t believe it actually worked.”
“I thought it was Mitch who came looking for me.”
“I gave your roommate his name,” I admit. At her puzzled look, I add, “I wanted to entice you to come home, not run for the hills, screaming that a ghost was haunting you.”
That earns me a reluctant smile. “I probably wouldn’t have passed out in your driveway if I had a little warning.”
“You wouldn’t have believed it,” I counter lightly.
She mulls it over for a moment before nodding. “You’re probably right.”
“Doesn’t matter either way. You’re here now.”
Her smile slips, and her head drops again. “Until I figure out what to do with the house.”
And then . . .
I force the question down with another bite of food. I keep it down throughout the rest of our meal, and while I help her to clean up afterwards. It remains unspoken through another hour of random conversation.
The words already said between us, and those left unsaid, hang thickly in the air around us. There is so much I want—I need—to know. Even more that I want to say to her.
I don’t say any of it now.
There is only one thing I need to say this evening, and only one person that needs to hear it. After leaving the farm around eight, I don’t go straight home. Though she has taken to spending most of her time at my place, Tracy technically lives with her parents. Her car isn’t in the driveway when I pull in, and her mother informs me that she has just left for her shift at the bar.
That means she won’t be getting in until two in the morning. She always stays at her parents’ house on the nights she works late since I have to get up so early for work. I won’t see her tonight, unless I go to the bar.
I’m not doing that for two reasons. One, despite some of the choices I’ve made, I’m not that big of an asshole to track her down at work to break up with her. Two, I haven’t drowned myself in liquor in two days. Aside from the glass of wine the night Ana returned—that didn’t give me so much as a tickle—I haven’t had anything. I’m c
urious to see how long I can go.
Going to the bar to see Tracy tonight is out. We have much to talk about, and it’ll all happen tomorrow.
I spend the majority of the morning cleaning up the house, and gathering the information I need, as I wait for the first of my scheduled appointments in town. By noon, I have a stack of documents on the property in the front seat of the car. A quick stop at the bank confirms the worst: to keep the farm, I will have to come up with a hell of a lot of money.
Money I definitely don’t have.
By mid-afternoon, I’ve decided what I need to do. The papers on the front seat have been exchanged for a large For Sale sign that I will need to stake into the ground once I get back.
First, I need to stop by the store for some more groceries. Though my mind has been made up about the farm, I’m not ready to leave Stone Creek. Only my task of taking care of the property has been dealt with. Given the huge surprise that greeted me three days ago, there’s no way I can leave town yet.
Another surprise waits for me in the dairy section of the grocery store. Jen Anderson plows into me with a squeal, and enough force to drive me into the shredded cheese display, when she sees me.
“You came back . . . you finally came back . . . I started to think you were gone forever . . .”
“I’m sorry . . .”
We repeat the same words over and over, hugging each other for so long my arms start to go numb. Finally, releasing each other, I get a good look at the first girl I ever considered a friend. She looks a little older, obviously, but just as spunky as ever.
And I’ve missed her.
“I’m so sorry I left the way I did,” I repeat. “I wish it could have been different.”
For so many reasons, most of which I didn’t realize until the day I came back.
Jen shrugs. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just glad to finally have you back.” At the grimace on my face, she frowns. “You are back, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I only came—”
“Have you seen . . .”
“I know. I’ve seen him.”
Her eyes go wide. “And . . . you’re not sure you’re staying? What the hell is wrong—”
“He’s with Tracy.”
“Oh, please.” Jen waves her hand in dismissal. “That girl sunk her claws into him the first chance she had, when he was at his lowest. Everyone—and I mean everyone—knows it’s not going to last. Especially now that you’re back.”
“I’m not back,” I remind her, though the laughter in my voice doesn’t make it sound very convincing.
Not that I’m all that convinced. Especially after what happened—or almost happened—between Ben and me yesterday. The things he said have given me reason to question my next move. I planned to return to Philadelphia once I took care of the property, yet here I am, buying more groceries to stay.
“We’ll see about that.” Jen gives me a knowing smirk. “Whatever you decide, you’d better not run out of here without telling me again.”
“I won’t,” I promise, but for now, I have to go. Before he left yesterday, Ben told me he would stop by after work this evening, and if the clock on the wall over Jen’s head is correct, he should be leaving the job site right about now.
I give Jen another hug and promise to visit with her again soon, before finishing my shopping. I check out and take the few bags to the car. As I shut the trunk, I feel someone come up behind me, and slowly turn to face the scowl on Tracy’s face.
Without missing a beat, she sneers, “Shouldn’t you be gone by now?”
I ignore her and move toward the door. That doesn’t stop her from following me.
“You’re only messing with his head,” she continues in an icy tone. “Why don’t you do us both a favor, and go back to wherever you came from.”
I turn on my heel, causing her to skid to a stop behind me. “This is where I come from.”
“Not anymore,” she fires at me. “He was fine before you came back. He was happy. We were happy.”
I snort out a laugh. “Is that what you call it? Happiness? I call it desperation. He might have called it . . .” I tap my finger to my chin as I coyly pretend to dig up the right word. “Delusional.”
Tracy’s nostrils flare, and she takes a step toward me. I don’t back down. I don’t even flinch, and that only infuriates her more. “At least I was here for him when he needed someone. Unlike you.” Her jeer grows when my face falls. “He didn’t tell you? He’s with me now because he gave up on you. That is what he said to me.”
I turn my back on her, determined to get in the car so I can slam the door in her face. Her words slow me down, and I feel like I’m moving through quick sand as I try to escape them.
“His mama’s ring is gorgeous, too,” she continues. “It fits my finger perfectly, don’t you think?” She thrusts her hand over my shoulder to give me a glimpse of Ben’s mama’s ring on her bony finger.
I can’t get in the car fast enough. I nearly fall into the seat before slamming the door shut on her hyena laugh. The purr of the engine blocks it out as I pull out of the parking spot. I keep my eyes forward, refusing to give her, or her stupid ring, a glance in the rearview mirror.
I keep my eyes focused the entire way back to the farm. Only then, after I turn off the engine and jump out of the car, do I let the tears fall.
I leave a trail all the way up to my old bedroom, where I grab my overnight bag from the dresser. Another trail dots the earth from the barn to the end of the driveway, where I hammer in the For Sale sign. The tears eventually slow, and give way to unrivaled anger, by the time I return the legal documents I found earlier to their place in Pop’s old desk. I let out a frustrated scream as I slam the drawer shut.
How stupid am I?
Obviously he didn’t break things off with Tracy. I wonder if he ever intended to. She’s wearing an engagement ring—my engagement ring—for crying out loud. I remind myself that I never asked him to break up with her . . . but he still said he was going to. He almost kissed me yesterday. He hinted at so much yesterday. So much promise that I actually believed.
I considered staying, and for what?
To wait for the day Tracy gets to marry the man I was supposed to marry, and live out the life with him that I was supposed to have?
No. I’m not sticking around for that.
I back out of the office and sweep my gaze around the house, making sure I haven’t left anything behind. Who am I kidding? I brought nothing with me, other than the bag on the ground beside the car, ready to be loaded. The food can rot, for all I care.
I snatch the keys from the counter with an angry growl. My march across the floor halts when I look up to find Ben filling the doorway.
His eyes shift from the keys in my hand to my face, which no doubt shows all the evidence of my meltdown. His throat jumps. “What’s going on, Ana?”
“I’m leaving.” The words coming out of my mouth give me the boost I need to slip past him. I’m through the door and five steps from the car before he turns to race after me.
“I thought—”
“You thought wrong,” I snap over my shoulder. I scoop my overnight bag off the ground and toss it through the open door, onto the passenger seat. My hand grazes the steering wheel before Ben’s heavy frame gets in my way. I step back as he reaches across the seat and snatches the bag.
He tosses it toward the house before turning to me. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
Ignoring him, I stalk toward the house to retrieve the bag. He’s blocking the open car door when I turn around, but I’m not above using the bag as a weapon to move him out of the way if I need to.
“Move,” I order.
His head swivels back and forth. “No. I’m not letting you leave.” His voice catches, but I refuse to let that affect me.
“You don’t get a say in what I do anymore, Ben.”
I use the bag as a shield, attempt
ing to plow my way through him to get to the door. It doesn’t work, so I quickly turn and dash around the rear of the car to get in on the passenger side. I don’t make it before he catches up to me. He grabs the bag from my hands, and tosses it over the roof of the car before caging me in his arms.
“What happened?” he presses.
“I’m sure Tracy will be more than happy to fill you in after I’m gone.” I shove at his chest in an attempt to get away. Either I’m stronger than I think I am, or my words stun him enough that he gives up the fight enough for me to wiggle free.
He follows me from a safe distance as I go after my bag . . . again. Next time he takes it in an effort to keep me here, I’ll just leave without it.
“What did she say to you?”
“Ask her.” He doesn’t stop me from putting the bag into the car this time.
“I’m asking you.” His hand comes down on my shoulder, and he spins me around to face him. He takes one look at my face and concludes, “Whatever she said to make you this upset, it’s a lie.”
I toss my head back with a shrill laugh. “Really? So my engagement ring isn’t hers now?”
His lips twitch as he fights a smile.
“What is so funny?” I snap.
“You just called it your engagement ring,” he answers softly.
“No I—so?”
“So . . . I agree with you. It is yours, and you’ll be the only girl that ever wears it again.”
I suck in a sharp breath, and remind myself that I’m mad. Furious, even. But damn him, those words have my heart tripping all over itself right now. I push away the warm feelings and focus on the facts.
“No, I won’t,” I respond. “Not when it’s currently placed on Tracy’s bony finger.”
Ben’s subtle grin slips, and his brow wrinkles. “What?”
I’m taken aback by the genuineness of his surprise. He’s acting like he doesn’t know she’s wearing it. Which means . . . “You didn’t give her the ring?”
His head turns back and forth as a gamut of emotions play across his face. He finally settles on a combination of annoyance and regret. “I never gave Tracy that ring. I never had any intention of giving her that ring. She must have found it. I’m sorry.”
What Comes Next Page 29