by Kelly Wood
“No. What reason could justify pulling a vanishing act? At this point, it doesn’t matter.”
“Well . . .”
I squinted my eyes at her. “Well, what?”
“Um, I do have a little confession. I did something that you may not like.” Jax got up and shut the window. I liked the fresh air while I slept.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m shutting this, so you don’t have the urge to push me out of it.” Jax turned back to me. She wrung her hands while I waited for her to explain. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“What have you done?” I stood up and started toward her.
“It was a misunderstanding.”
“What was a misunderstanding?” I took a step in her direction. She countered with a sidestep toward the door.
“He seemed so nice last night. A-and, he took the incident with the beer so well. I thought maybe—”
“Maybe what?” I took another step at the same time Jax did.
“I thought maybe, with a little coffee, a little schmoozing, you’d be willing to see him.” Two more steps for both of us. I was almost to Jax, but she was fast. She could get through the door before I took two steps. Her hand reached out now for the knob.
“Him?”
“There has to be a good explanation. It’s time to let bygones be bygones. Let go of the past. Move on. Live for today, blah, blah.”
“Blah, blah?”
“I’ll just go tell Ben you’ll be right down. Maybe this way, you won’t assault him next time you run into him.”
“Him?” I lunged forward. Jax was through the door and had it closed in my face before I could reach her.
Chapter Five
I leaned against the door before sliding down to the floor. I was starting to wonder just how good of a friend Jax was. Upside, she brought me coffee. Downside, she also brought him. Him. I didn’t know who was worse. Ben for vanishing, or Jax for bringing him here. I didn’t want to see him, let alone talk to him.
I ran my fingers through the carpet and pondered my choices. I could stay in here; I had plenty of books to read. I could work; my laptop was sitting on the desk, fully-charged. I could go back to bed. I could catch up on my emails or even give myself a manicure. I could keep myself occupied for days. A person could go a few days without food. Eventually, they would all leave. Locking myself in here was a viable option.
Chicken.
Peter’s words rang in my ear. I. Am. Not. A. Chicken. I always came back and faced my fights. Sometimes, I just took a little break first. This wasn’t even a fight. As Jax said, it was old history. It didn’t even justify a conversation. I’d just march right down there and tell him, “Nice seeing you again, now scram.” I didn’t need some long, drawn-out talk. Nobody ever benefits from those anyway.
That’s what I’d do. I’d do it right now. I planted my hands and pushed myself up from the floor. It would take two seconds. No biggie. I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Nobody liked morning breath. Even that no-good, lying, snake. I told myself that’s all I’d do. Just a quick brush, but then I caught a glance in the mirror.
My makeup from last night had run down my face from the steam of the hot tub. My hair was frizzy and stood straight up in places from the bun. I was fooling myself if I thought that a messy bun would pull me together. My pajamas were wrinkled, and I smelled like chlorine. I couldn’t go downstairs like this. An explanation wouldn’t be needed if I went downstairs looking like this. Who wouldn’t run away screaming in fright?
Gray. That’s who. It was times like these when he would tell me how beautiful I looked. I would roll my eyes and go back to whatever I was doing, but I knew he meant the words. Sometimes, I would catch him watching me out of the corner of my eye with love on his face.
I picked up my phone to call him but hesitated. I sat on the closed toilet to ponder it. What would I say to him? “Hey, remember me? You asked me to marry you, and my only response was to turn around and walk away without saying a word? Just checking in. Miss you. Love you. Wish I could throw myself into your arms. Wanting so badly to see you, yet so scared at the same time.”
Nope, that wouldn’t work.
The irony wasn’t lost on me that I walked away without a word from Gray while still being mad years later about Ben doing it to me. Maybe I should let him apologize and call it a day. I had my reasons for doing that to Gray. So, it was safe to assume he had his. I just didn’t know if I wanted to hear them.
A knock on the door startled me. I slid right off the side of the toilet onto the floor, my tailbone took the brunt of the fall. I didn’t know who it was, but I was not ready yet. I hadn’t made up my mind. I jumped up, turned on the shower, and struggled out of my clothes. I was under the spray before it had warmed up, a thousand needles stinging my skin from the ice-cold water.
I adjusted the water temperature and hurried to wash. Whoever knocked must have gone away because no one called my name or entered the bathroom. I rinsed the soap and shampoo and wrapped myself in one of Peter’s oversized towels.
Jax was right. I needed to close this chapter of my life. I would get dressed and go downstairs. I rubbed the towel over myself briskly before heading back to the bedroom for clothes.
“You should hurry.” I jumped at the sound, and nearly dropped my towel. Jax sat on the end of my bed, casually inspecting her nails. The bed had been made. I didn’t know if it was her or Peter while I was showering.
“Why? If he wants to apologize, waiting another twenty minutes won’t matter. It’s been years already.” I opened the closet doors. Jax stood up and headed to the doorway leading to the hall.
“Because he’s already been with Peter for twenty minutes.” She closed the door softly behind her.
The thought was chilling. Jax was right. Peter ran the bar so well because he could put anyone at ease in an instant. After twenty minutes, he had probably unearthed all of Ben’s secrets. This could be good and bad. It all depended on Peter. Peter could use the information to my benefit, but most likely, and I knew this from years of firsthand experience, Peter would decide for me what I should do. He would manipulate the situation based on his own perceptions.
I hurried and dressed, picking another dress and flats from my closet. I didn’t have time to dry my hair, so I threw some product in it to cut down the frizz and bring out the curl. Beachy waves fell down my back. I did take the time to put on a little make-up. I knew I shouldn’t care what Ben thought about my looks, but I wanted to be at least presentable.
I grabbed a necklace and my watch from the nightstand, quickly switching my band back to the leather one. I gave myself a once-over in the full-length mirror, happy with the results. The dress was a soft plum color and slimming. I looked nice, but not too done up. I threw my cell phone into my purse before digging out some lip gloss. I dabbed the tube against my lips as I walked downstairs.
I slowed my steps even as my heart raced. I stopped on the bottom stair and peeked around the corner. Peter, Ben, and Jax were sitting around the fireplace. Peter had served coffee, scones, and cookies, ever the host. They were engaged in conversation. The mood in the room seemed light. I couldn’t hear their words, but a laugh floated up every so often.
Traitors.
I took a moment to study Ben. When we were together, I always called him by his full name. Benjamin. He never allowed a shortened version. Now, I could see the differences. Benjamin had been buttoned-up, always in a suit and never a hair out of place. This Ben looked slightly disheveled. His clothes were still expensive-looking and well-made, but no suit today. He had on gray chinos and a white button-up shirt with small blue pinstripes. He’d left the shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and the sleeves were rolled up. The old Ben would never have been out like this. Too casual. His dark blonde hair was still short and styled, but not as smoothed and perfect as before, either.
Before I could decide whether or not to take the last step, Ben looked up and caught sight of me. He rose fro
m his seat but didn’t say a word. Jax and Peter followed suit, turning to see what had caught Ben’s attention. I took the plunge and entered the room. Ben followed me with his eyes. Jax and Peter sat back down on the couch, Ben across from them in a chair. The only available seat was next to Ben. I didn’t like the idea of sitting next to him. I wanted to see his face straight on. Instead of taking the empty chair, I squeezed in between Jax and Peter. The fit was tight. The sofa, built for only two adults, was snug with me there, too. Peter grunted and pulled a pillow off the couch. It gave us a little room, but we were all still hip-to-hip. The silence stretched.
“Ooh, its crowded in here,” Peter said, “Jax, let’s get some more coffee.” Jax met my eye, giving me an eye roll, before getting up. My hips felt cold without their body heat. They retreated to the kitchen, giving us a fake sense of privacy. With the open design of the condo, they would still be able to hear every word.
I met Ben’s gaze straight on but did not speak. The silence dragged on, the anxiety level in the room rising. Ben spoke first, breaking the spell.
“You look well.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Would you like me to skip the subtleties?” Ben sat back in his chair. I reminded myself that I had decided to be nice. I straightened my skirt and crossed my legs, but never relaxed my posture.
“Just say what you have to say and let’s be done. It’s been long enough.” He raised an eyebrow at ‘long enough.’ He knew I was referring to more than the two minutes we’ve been alone together. Alone? Yeah, right. I turned to the kitchen. Jax and Peter weren’t even pretending to make more coffee and busy themselves. They both were bent over the island facing us. Heads propped in their hands, staring openly. A bowl sat in front of them. Both reached periodically for it and munched on the contents. Confusion clouded my face until Peter reached out again for more. The smell hit me a moment later.
Popcorn? They were seriously eating popcorn. I bared my teeth and gave them the stink eye, before turning back to Ben. I bet they thought they were funny.
“Let’s get this show on the road. We have an audience to entertain.” I waved my hand in the direction of the kitchen. Ben glanced their way before he brought his gaze back to mine.
“I don’t know where to begin, other than with I’m sorry.” I ignored the apology.
“Start with the day I came home to an empty apartment. How ‘bout that?”
“I didn’t know how—”
“How to what? How to ask the doorman to dump me? How to leave me without a place to live?”
Ben glanced at the kitchen again. I didn’t look, but I hadn’t heard any movement. I assumed they were still watching and eating their popcorn. Ben's face showed his misery. Was this even worth it? What did it matter after all this time? I took pity.
“I’m sorry about the beer. I was shocked at seeing you.” Ben’s face relaxed as I spoke. He even smiled a little at the mention of the beer dumping. “You’ve apologized. Let’s just call it even.” I stood and stretched out my hand, offering to shake his, calling a truce. Ben looked down at my hand but hesitated before reaching for it. His hand was as smooth and warm as I remembered. A stark contrast to Gray’s rough and calloused ones.
“This won’t do.” Ben didn’t let go of my hand. He kept it held tightly in his, using the connection to pull me toward the front door. My other hand still held my purse. Ben had used my surprise to his advantage. I saw Jax and Peter’s shocked faces as Ben pulled me through the front door. I was down the stairs and outside before my brain kicked in.
When we reached the sidewalk, I yanked my hand from Ben’s grasp and stopped moving. He took two more steps before he realized I was not by his side.
“What the—” I started.
“I apologize. I couldn’t talk to you like that. Let’s go somewhere. Just us.”
“Are you crazy? No. You’re basically a stranger to me now. Why would I?” I pushed my hair back to get a better look at him. Color had risen in Ben’s cheeks. He was smiling full-on now. An old memory jumped in my head. Ben pulling me from another room where the tension had been just as thick. That time we’d been at a charity dinner. A boring and stuffy one. We were the youngest people in the room by a generation. During the meal, we made small talk with the people around us. After, we danced to music from a string quartet. While dancing, Ben grabbed my hand, pulled me through the crowd, and out the door. Once outside, we laughed while jumping into a cab. We made one quick stop for some greasy cheeseburgers before stopping and eating them behind Belmont Harbor. We had spent the night looking out at the water, sitting in our formal clothes, but with greasy fingers. It had been one of the few times he had let loose. Color had risen in his cheeks that time, too, giving him a carefree, boyishness to his looks.
“I bet we could find some cheeseburgers.” Ben looked at me with pleading eyes.
“No. There is no ‘we’ anymore. We can’t just run off because you’ve decided we should.” I turned to go back inside Peter’s building.
“Come on, Regan. I need to talk to you. I just can’t do it in there. It’s as confining as the night at the benefit.” I stopped walking to listen. I wanted to go back inside and shut the door on him. I wanted to forget him. Why did he have to walk into that bar? But, I hesitated. Right now was maybe the only chance I’d have of finding out why he left me like that. As much as I wanted to forget it, it was a sore spot that had never completely healed.
“If I go, you will tell me everything? Answer every question I have?” I asked.
“Everything.”
Chapter Six
It was too early for cheeseburgers, even for me. We both opted for take-out diner breakfasts instead. The food was still warm as we perched on the ledge overlooking the water. An occasional runner went past, some with a dog jogging by their side. Boats were being loaded with people and supplies to head out for the day. I liked the idea of spending a day on a boat, but boats do not like me. I’d be miserable and sick from the swaying even hours after we docked.
“We have food. We are in our spot. Time to talk. I’ve held up my end.” I picked at my omelet, not looking at Ben.
“I don’t know where—”
“—to start. I got it. When did you decide to leave?” I asked.
“I didn’t decide.” I let that pass. Clearly, a decision had been made at some point. I rephrased the question.
“When did you know you were going to leave?” I asked.
“Two days beforehand. I didn’t want to go.”
“If you didn’t decide, then who did?”
Ben blew out through his mouth while running his fingers through his hair. He didn’t speak for a full minute. My patience started to ebb.
“This is going to sound . . . terrible, but . . .” His voice trailed off. His takeout container sat open on his lap, untouched.
“Just get on with it.” I stopped picking at my food and started eating in earnest. Emotional eating and I were good friends.
“My dad made me.”
What?! “Your dad made you.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to need a better lie than that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Then you are a pansy. Your dad made you? Come on.” I pushed the container aside and stood up to pace. I needed to move.
“It started before I left. My father was adamant about meeting you. He complained I was unfocused and undisciplined. He wanted to know what was causing me ‘to fail.’ His words.”
“What were you failing?” I continued to walk back and forth in front of him.
“Work. I was distracted, as I told you. I’ll admit that to you, but I didn’t to my father at the time.” Ben paused.
“Go on.” I stopped pacing and stood in front of him, blocking his view of the lake, and forced him to look at me.
“Before I met you, I worked fourteen-hour days. The business was my life. After you, I barely squeezed in six hours each day. I wanted to be with you. I
wanted to be home when you got there, to hear about your day. I couldn’t wait just to talk to you. I was a bit ‘love-sick.’ Also, his words, but those I always agreed with.”
I sat back down next to him but didn’t pick my food back up. Most of it was gone anyway. I remembered those days well. I looked forward to seeing him after my classes, too, always disappointed if he wasn’t waiting for me. I felt powerless around him. Looking back, I realized he was more of a drug to me. I knew I was moving too fast, spending too much time with him, but I couldn’t stop myself. I made him my life instead of just a part of it. I just wanted to be with him.
“I think love-sick would describe both of us. Why didn’t you just introduce me?”
“I wanted to protect you from them. They, my parents, can be very demanding. I finally agreed to introduce you the night of the charity benefit.”
“The one we left early?”
“Yes.”
“But, I didn’t meet them.”
“You did. I just introduced them by name and didn’t clarify they were my parents. Remember the couple you met first?”
I thought back to that night. I hadn’t paid much attention to the other attendees. My only focus had been Ben. He had a way of making me only care about him. My tunnel vision was long and narrow. Ben the only focus. Anyone he introduced me to went in one ear and out the other. Other people were just an annoyance to my focus on him. I did remember when we arrived, a middle-aged couple near the entrance. There was nothing special about them. They hadn’t looked familiar to me, but I remember thinking, it’s like they are waiting for us, before turning my focus back to Ben. I cringed now at how young and dumb I was. I could finally see how unhealthy my fascination with him was.
“The couple by the door?”
“Yes. Your memory has always amazed me. You pick up on the smallest of details.”
“Thanks, I guess.” Another memory from the night surfaced of us on the dance floor. The man had caught Ben’s eye and waved him over. I excused myself to the restroom, but when I returned, Ben had seemed distant, distracted. It was during the next dance that we’d bailed. “You didn’t introduce them as your parents.”