Losing Me Finding You

by Natalie Ward

  “Hey, Ben,” Josh says as I close the door behind me, refusing to listen to him try and change my mind.

  Because in that second; I don’t need to hear anything else.

  Because in that single second, with that one word, the knowledge of why tonight felt so wrong, why the past few years have felt so wrong, all comes rushing back to me.

  Ben.

  Ben was the last man I slept with. Ben was the man I should have been sleeping with tonight, the man I thought I’d sleep with for the rest of my life.

  But just as the memories of a rainy night, a deep kiss while pressed against a door, a quiet trip up stairs to a room full of passion and lust and love, all start to invade my brain, so to do the nightmares.

  Nightmares of a betrayal, of another woman, and of Ben, begging me to believe it was nothing.

  And with that, I immediately bend over and throw up. All of the memories and nightmares washing over me, consuming me, finally making me understand why I’ve been feeling the way I have for so long.

  How the hell did I forget all of this?

  29th July 1999

  Twenty-three years old

  My train pulls into Oxford a little after midday. Sarah, my best friend from my last life, is standing on the platform waiting for me. I see her wave and I try waving back, force a smile on to my face that I don’t feel like sharing. I’m not really sure why I decided to move here, especially given Sarah knows Ben. I only knew I wanted something familiar.

  But that something couldn’t be Ben.

  Of course when I got my memories of Ben back, I got the rest of them back too, including my memories of Sarah. When I got home the night these memories returned, I cried myself to sleep, wondering how everything had gotten so messed up in my last life.

  But everything was suddenly so clear too, all the reasons why I’d felt so fucking lost for so long. But with the memories, came nightmares, which only made everything murky and confused again.

  When I finally woke up the next day, I avoided answering my phone or leaving my house. Instead, I drank half a bottle of wine and decided to try and track Sarah down, hoping she would at least forgive me for running off all those years ago.

  It took a while, I had to find her mum first and when I eventually did, she was shocked to hear from me. She’d assumed my last parents had found me at Ben’s and taken me away, the three of us disappearing into thin air. I guess that was sort of true, so I just let her believe it.

  She also told me Sarah had left Fleet and was now working as a social worker of all things. I wasn’t really surprised, remembering all the ways she’d looked after me when we were growing up. Eventually I got hold of Sarah and she was more than happy to let me come and stay with her and that’s how I ended up deciding to move to Oxford.

  I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving Cornwell, not my best friend Penny, and certainly not Josh. I know I’ll never see them again and had this been playing out the way it should be, the way it’s played out in my previous lives, I’d be totally okay with that. But this time things are different. I’m not doing it the way I have in the past because I can’t quite bring myself to face the past.

  Or Ben.

  I’ve been trying not to think about him ever since my memories returned. I haven’t bothered to contact him, or even try to find out where he is now. He will have moved, I know this; it’s what we were waiting for. But of course there are ways of tracking him down. If I can find Sarah, I can find Ben.

  A part of me wants to, I can’t deny it, but a bigger part of me isn’t going to let that happen. I’m still too angry with him, and with Katie Price.

  Every time I close my eyes now, all I see are her hands and lips on his back. Her fingers moving all over his bare skin. Skin that I thought belonged to me and only me.

  And with that, comes all of the pain I felt when I saw it. The pain of Ben’s betrayal, the pain I saw in his eyes when he turned and saw me standing there watching them, and the pain I felt in my heart as I ran down those stairs and into the street, running as far as I could from the pain at what was happening to me.

  But most of all, I remember the pain at losing Ben. At hearing his voice as he begged me to stop, to listen. The pain at hearing him tell me he loved me.

  How the hell am I supposed to forget this pain?

  It’s still two years until I will and never in my life have I wanted to forget something so badly. I’d do anything to be able to forget this pain right now, but I can’t. And no matter how far I run, it will always be here.

  And right now, that pain is almost worse than never remembering Ben at all.

  “Hey stranger,” Sarah says as I step off the train and into her open arms. “It’s been a long time.”

  I hug her back, the easy familiarity of my old friend briefly easing the hurt I’m now feeling. “I know,” I say, smiling at her. “It has.”

  “Where the hell have you been, Evie?” Sarah asks, not bothering to hold back. I knew she wouldn’t, it was bad enough trying to tell her over the phone that I’d explain everything when I got here. “You just disappeared into thin air.”

  I shrug, wishing I could explain just how true her words are. But she didn’t see what happened and she’s never known the full truth about me, so I say the only true thing I can. “Ben and I had a fight.”

  “Yeah I gathered that,” she says, grabbing one of my bags and linking her other arm through mine as we walk down the platform. “He came over the day after your birthday you know, wondering if I knew where you were or if I’d heard from you.”

  “He did?” I ask, surprised. Ben knows I didn’t go to Sarah’s, I couldn’t. By that stage I’d be somewhere else and wouldn’t remember her either. I wouldn’t remember any of it.

  “He did,” she says, glancing over at me. “And then every day after that until he left.”

  Sarah’s words stop me in my tracks.

  “Evie?” she says, turning to face me now. “You okay?”

  I swallow, taking a deep breath before I ask, “Do you know where he went?”

  Sarah smiles at me. “Yeah, he wrote it down for me, the station he was going to. I’m pretty sure it’s in London somewhere. I’ve got it at home,” she says, pulling me towards the exit. “I’ll dig it out when we get there.”

  “No, it’s okay,” I start to say, thinking there’s no way I’m going to contact him, not now.

  Sarah laughs. “Bullshit, Evie,” she says, as we walk out of the station and into the carpark.

  “What?”

  Sarah stops and turns to face me again. “Look, I don’t fully understand whatever it was that happened between you two that night,” she says, dropping my bag and placing her other hand on my shoulder. “But I do know that that man loves you, Evie. A lot. He was a wreck, a total wreck after you left, and judging by how you look now, he wasn’t the only one.”

  I have to bite my lip, swallow down the tears that are now threatening to spill. “It doesn’t matter now, it’s too late,” I whisper, not even sure how I can begin to forget about everything that happened that night. Not just with Ben and Katie, but with Ben and me.

  But more importantly, it’s too late to apologise. For either of us. Because how I can ever possibly apologise for the way I treated him after I saw it all. How can I ever apologise for staying away like I’m doing right now. And how can he apologise for what he did, what he let happen.

  Sarah smiles, her hand squeezing my shoulder as she says, “It’s never too late, Evie. And besides,” she adds, winking at me, “when you’ve got a man who looks like Ben does, I’d be doing everything in my power to get him back. You know what I’m saying?”

  And I can’t help but smile, hoping, wishing even, that Sarah’s words are true and maybe it isn’t too late.

  That for once, there’s enough time to make this right.

  14th February 2000

  Twenty-three years old

  “You sure you don’t want to come?” Sarah asks, turning to look at her bac
k in the full-length mirror hanging inside her cupboard door.

  “Are you high?” I ask, throwing a cushion at her. I’m sitting on her bed, drinking wine and watching as she gets ready to go out.

  “What?” Sarah says, as tough the idea of me joining her and Adam on their date tonight is no big deal.

  “Um, hello,” I say, “it’s only the most romantic night of the year. I’m not about to make it a threesome, Sarah.”

  I watch as she smiles at me, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively as though she’s not opposed to the idea. I can’t help but laugh as I throw another pillow from the bed at her.

  “What, you don’t fancy me?” she says now, spinning around.

  I can’t help but laugh. “Sorry sweets, but you’re not really my type.”

  “So what is your type?” Sarah asks, suddenly serious.

  “What?”

  Sarah walks towards me and takes a seat on the bed beside me. “Come on Evie,” she says quietly.

  “What?” I ask, knowing exactly what she’s going to say next.

  “Why don’t you just try calling him? You know you want to.”

  I exhale and take another sip of wine before forcing myself to meet her stare. “I can’t,” I whisper. “It’s too late.”

  “Why do you think that?” Sarah asks. “Have you even tried?” I nod, even though it’s not exactly true. “Evie,” she says, trying to be serious. “I mean calling and actually speaking to him, as opposed to just calling and hanging up.”

  I close my eyes as I fall back onto her bed, knowing that I haven’t really tried at all. I’ve been with Sarah for just over six months now and in that time I’ve called Ben’s station a total of nineteen times. By some miracle I haven’t ever spoken to him, but that’s been an almost deliberate move on my part. Usually I call at random times of the day, or night, but mainly when I don’t think he’d be there. I had to stop calling when I got the same guy four times and he started to yell at me down the phone. I’m not sure what I’d do if Ben ever actually answered.

  “Evie,” Sarah says, her voice quiet as she grabs my hand.

  I open my eyes and shift up on the pillows so I’m sitting with my back against the wall. “Yeah?”

  “Call him, let him explain what happened and for fuck’s sake take him back already, you two are perfect together.”

  “Ugh,” I scream, finishing my wine before dropping the glass onto the bed. “What if it’s really too late, Sarah?” I ask. “What if he’s found someone else?”

  Sarah doesn’t say anything for so long that I eventually sit up, open my eyes and face her. “Sarah,” I say, my eyes locking with hers. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Evie,” she says, her voice serious. “Even if he has found someone else, you don’t think he still wants to hear from you, to know that you’re alright?”

  My head falls into my hands and I push my palms into my eyes, trying to stop the onslaught of pain that comes with the thought of Ben being with someone else. “He’s with someone, isn’t he?” I whisper, unable to look at her because I know her face will tell me the truth.

  “Sweets,” Sarah says quietly, pulling my hands away and forcing me to look at her. “He’s not with anyone else, at least not the last time I spoke to him.”

  The sudden relief that flows through me is unbelievable. I think it’s the first time since I’ve remembered all of this, maybe even since I left Ben in my last life, that I’ve finally been able to breathe properly. But then the rest of her words register. “You’ve spoken to him?” I ask, my spine straightening as I wonder if she’s told him I’m back. “When?”

  “At Christmas, that was the last time.”

  “Did you tell him about me? I mean, did you tell him that I’m staying with you?” Sarah bites her lip and in that second I know she has. “Sarah, seriously.”

  “I didn’t tell him you were with me, Evie, I promise,” she says, taking my hand in both of hers. “All I said was that I’d seen you and that you were okay.”

  “And,” I whisper, afraid to hear what Ben might have said to that.

  “And,” she says, a sad smile on her face. “I might have told him that it was obvious you missed him. A lot.”

  My heart is pounding in my chest now, my breaths coming in fast pulls and I force myself to swallow, take a second before I ask what happened after she told him that. “And what did Ben say then?”

  Sarah waits until I’m looking at her, really looking at her, before she says, “He said that he missed you too. He said, and I quote, that he missed you so fucking much it hurt and that if I ever saw you again could I please ask, no beg, you to call him. He was pretty desperate, Evie.”

  “Why haven’t you told me this before now?” I whisper, knowing that none of this is really Sarah’s fault.

  Sarah lets go of my hands and reaches over to tuck some hair behind my ear. “I’ve been telling you to call him since the second you walked off that train, Evie,” she says. “You’re the one who hasn’t been listening, who hasn’t been willing to let the past go.”

  And she’s right, I haven’t been. I’ve been stubborn and moody and angry, blaming Ben for something that I only know half the story to. I didn’t give him a chance to explain that night and I’m not giving him a chance to explain now. Instead, I’m being an idiot, risking the one thing that means the most to me in the whole world, over something that happened years ago.

  “So, you gonna call him?” Sarah asks, her hand on my knee. I shrug, even though I know I probably will. “I mean call and talk to him, Evie,” she says, trying to look serious.

  “Yeah, maybe,” I whisper, knowing I desperately want to now.

  When Sarah leaves, I pour myself another glass of wine and curl up on the couch with a blanket and the phone. I don’t need the piece of paper with Ben’s contact details anymore, ironically enough, I’ve memorised the number now.

  It takes me two more hours before I can finally pick up the phone and call though, and when I do Ben isn’t even there. He’s on leave, away until the twenty-seventh. As I throw the phone onto the couch before me, I start to wonder if I haven’t already run out of time to fix this.

  Is it too late to save Ben and me?

  28th February 2000

  Twenty-three years old

  “Are you at least having a good night?” Sarah asks, leaning against Adam as we walk back to her flat. She’s a little tipsy, but Adam is being perfect and looking after her. I’m happy for Sarah, pleased she has such a great guy, but I also envy them. Envy the fact that they have each other; that she has Adam to look after her. To love her.

  “I am,” I tell her, smiling as she links her arm through mine, the three of us walking together down the street.

  “Call him, Evie,” she says, tugging me closer. “For the love of god, and my sanity, please just call him.”

  I turn to look at her, see she really means it. He would’ve come back from his leave yesterday. I’ve been counting down the days until he did, but somehow, I still couldn’t bring myself to call him. I tried to rationalise that he wouldn’t be back at work straight away, but I know they said he would.

  “He misses you, Evie. He misses you and he loves you and you love him, so please, do us all a favour here and call the boy!”

  Her words are loud, fuelled by alcohol and I laugh, knowing she means well. But they are words that reach into my heart and squeeze it so tight, I feel like I might just stop breathing. Because deep down, I do miss him. I miss him so much, it hurts.

  I glance at my watch and see I only have five hours left. I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to explain my soon to be disappearance to Sarah, because the only person who knows it even happens, is Ben.

  Ben.

  My Ben.

  I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, or Sarah’s words, or just because it’s tonight, but I’m suddenly overwhelmed with memories of him. The way he touched me, the way he kissed me, even just the way he looked at me. It’s a longing and a
want that no amount of distance or time can ever erase. It all floods through me, reminding me of everything I am missing. And now, with the knowledge that in only a few hours I’m going to forget about Ben all over again, all I want to do is find him.

  I’ve wasted four painful years without him, four years over a stubborn refusal to give Ben even a chance to explain. I was being childish, but more importantly, I wasn’t being fair to Ben.

  I untangle myself from Sarah’s arm as I pull out my mobile phone; dial the number I can’t forget now. The number that will lead me back to him.

  Ben Foster.

  The love of my life. The one man who knows me, who knows everything about me. The man who swore he would always look after me and protect me. The man who used to love me.

  What the hell have I done?

  I hit the call button, hoping to god he’s there tonight. The phone rings and rings and rings and I think no one’s going to answer and he won’t ever know that I really wanted to talk to him. That I actually wanted to listen now. He won’t know and tomorrow I’ll disappear and I’ll forget about him all over again.

  “Shit, please Ben, pick up, pick up, pick up,” I say, as Sarah and Adam walk ahead now, to give me some privacy.

  I’m about to hang up when I hear it, “Ealing Station, Ben Foster speaking.”

  My breath catches in my throat, a jolt running through me as he finally answers and I hear his voice again for the first time in four years.

  I don’t know what to say. Don’t know if I can even say anything.

  “Hello,” he says again and my heart pounds just from the way his voice says that one word. “Hello,” he says a third time, only this time it’s frustrated and I know I have to hang up or speak.

  Hang up?

  Or speak?

  “Ben, it’s me,” I finally say, my voice sounding strange. “Evie,” I add on, in case he doesn’t realise. I don’t know why, it just seems like the right thing to do.