by S. L. Scott
“Grace.” His tone was determined, causing her to turn to him. “I won’t ever lie to you.”
“I know,” she whispered. Dropping her flip-flops off, she moved closer to him. He angled forward so she could slide under his arm and snuggle against his side. Curling her legs under her, she rested her hand on his stomach and her head on his shoulder.
She was fading. It was late, and they were obviously both tired. With his arm around her, he asked, “Do you want to talk some more? I can make you a cup of coffee, or if you’re tired, we can sleep.”
“I should go.” Looking up at him, she added, “But I don’t want to.”
“I think you need sleep. We both do.” He punched down the cushion and grabbed the blanket from the arm of the couch. “Emily is sleeping in my room. I’m sleeping out here. You can also sleep here if you like.”
A small smile crossed her face while she watched him. “I’d like that.”
When they lifted up, he positioned the pillow beneath his head and then lifted an arm for her. She settled into his side and they covered themselves with the blanket. It was reminiscent of the many nights they had cuddled on their sofa at home. The light from the kitchen was still on, but he didn’t care. They lay there quietly until she whispered, “For the record, I was never afraid of you, even when maybe I should have been, like when you were outside the bathroom . . . Wait, I’m seeing a trend here.”
He chuckled lightly. Narrowing his eyes, he stared up at the ceiling. “You’ve made me into a stalker.”
A little exhale was heard from her before she angled so she was touching even more of him. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”
You’re welcome seemed an odd response to her gratitude, so instead, he said, “I would have spent my life searching for you.”
“I know.” Her response was so quiet he barely heard her.
They didn’t say anything after that. She closed her eyes, and he held her until her breathing evened and she was asleep in his arms. So many thoughts, so many memories, so many times of holding her like this came to his mind. Ben spent hours watching her sleep. As he stroked her hair and then her arm gently, he remembered doing that when they lived together in college and later in their apartment. It never got old. He brushed her hair away from her cheek and outlined the features of her face with the lightest of touches, careful not to wake her. He couldn’t even explain the relief he felt, knowing she wasn’t sleeping—or more—with Hunter that night. She came to him. She searched for him.
He must have dozed off because he awoke to darkness. The kitchen light was off, but frankly, he didn’t care how. What he cared about was stirring against him right now.
“Ben? Are you awake?” Grace asked, so softly and sleep filled.
He lifted his head and looked down at her waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. When they did, he saw her sweet face and a peace—which could easily be mistaken for love—in her expression. Something about the moonlight made her look even younger than her twenty-six years and reminded him of when they were teenagers.
“You could never stay mad, especially at me,” he whispered. The tips of her fingers grazed across his cheek. “We didn’t really fight. Not much. I can count on one hand all the fights we had, and I remember them all clearly.” Ben’s arm tightened around her, relishing the fact that she was in his arms. She was staying and not rushing away because of the time or appointments that filled her day. “When we were twelve, you accused me of liking Fiona Huston more than you. You did it in the most passive-aggressive way and acted like you were teasing me, but I knew you meant it.” He laughed to himself. “For the record, I never liked Fiona Huston.”
Grace smiled. “I don’t even know who Fiona Huston is, but I’m relieved. That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does.” Your heart knows, Grace. Your heart knows me. “Another time, there were rumors going around our high school that Heather Hart and I made out after football practice. You didn’t believe them, but you still wanted me to tell you it didn’t happen. I wouldn’t because you knew me better than that. We were strong, unbreakable, and loyal. We trusted each other. You then told me you weren’t going to homecoming with me and wouldn’t talk to me again until I reassured you.” Ben dropped his head back on the cushion and smiled. “That lasted two periods. I told my teacher I had to use the bathroom and got a hall pass. You did the same, and we ran into each other on the way to the other’s class.”
He paused, licked his bottom lip. He hadn’t thought about those memories in years, probably since they happened, but they were flooding back when he needed them most. “You told me you would never doubt me again and I told you I didn’t make out with Heather. I only told you because you were right. I should’ve just told you in the first place. I was being stubborn over nothing. We kissed and made up and got detention for a week for lying to our teachers, and for kissing on school property.”
Grace sat up, adjusting her body on the couch, and brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. He sat up too, but leaned forward on his legs. It was just past three in the morning. “Sounds like all of our problems involved you and other girls.” She raised her eyebrow and smirked, which made him return one.
Ben laughed again because he thought it sounded that way even to him when the stories were told together like that. “Not all of them, but I never thought we had many problems in the first place.”
“It doesn’t sound like we did.”
Reaching over, Ben rubbed her back and remembered the shirt she was wearing. “I like your shirt. Do you like Nirvana?”
Grace had forgotten she was wearing the old shirt. “I know it doesn’t seem like I would, but there’s something about their lyrics that I love to get lost in. They’re profound and unconventional mixed with the heaviness of the music. Kurt Cobain had a poet’s heart. I found the shirt in New York City on a trip last year. I walked into a record shop in the Village and had to have it.”
“We grew up near Seattle. Once we skipped school and drove to the city for the day. You made me take you to this club where Nirvana played when they were just a struggling band. The club was closed since it was two in the afternoon. But, a manager happened to show up while I was taking your picture out front. You flirted with him and he was mush in your hands. He invited us in and showed us all these funky things inside like where Dave Grohl broke a finger when he jammed it into a hole in the wall and then twisted it on a dare from Kurt. They also had carved a part of the wall out where Kurt had signed his name. You loved seeing that and took many pictures of it.”
“Ben?”
“Yeah?”
She lowered her head, hiding her face. “Will you take me to Seattle to meet my parents?”
13
Ben Edwards
After silence filled the air around them, Ben kissed the top of her head, and asked, “When do you want to go?”
“Tomorrow,” Grace said, wrapping her arm carelessly around Ben’s chest as if she did that all the time. She used to do this all the time. It’s as though it’s instinctive for her to know how to be around him. Tilting her chin up, she looked at him.
Ben’s head was swimming in the closeness. He still couldn’t believe he was holding the love of his life and she was now holding him, too.
“Like tomorrow, later today or tomorrow tomorrow?”
“This evening. You said yourself that I don’t have much time.” Ben had a hard time concentrating on her words after that. She still planned to marry Hunter. Jane still planned to marry him, but what about Grace? Did she not want to find Grace and know who she loved? Who she wanted to marry? He felt they had made so much progress against that very act.
“What do you think?”
“Huh?” he asked, completely oblivious to what she wanted to know.
Grace sat up. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t look at her; he couldn’t. His heart was hurting and he didn’t know what to say because saying he was fine was acceptab
le, but admitting the truth was not. He leaned forward, dropping his head into his hands and scrubbed them, trying to wipe the sleep away.
She began to rub up and down his spine. “Ben, talk to me. Please.”
Moving out of her reach, he walked into the kitchen, flicking the bright light on, and squinting as the glare and reality hit him. Jane still loves Barnes. The coffee he made earlier was still warm, so he poured himself a cup, and took a sip. Anything to not have to face that he had probably still lost her even after finding her. Reaching for another mug, he poured her a cup. This was going to be a late night despite any intentions otherwise. He took the container and spooned in a teaspoon of sugar and was stirring when she walked in. Grace said, “One sugar, no cream.”
He looked up. He realized he’d just gone through the motions, having made many cups of coffee for Grace over the years. But more importantly, Jane took her coffee the same as Grace. Ben spun around in shock. “How do you remember that?”
“I, uh, I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “I just said it. I didn’t think about it.”
He couldn’t be mad at her, not now. She was remembering more with each passing hour they spent together. That’s what he wanted, what he had hoped for even if she was still with Barnes. He became determined to spend more time with her, as much time as he could get. It was the little things that would win her back. He knew she couldn’t remember the past but she couldn’t erase it either. She couldn’t erase them.
When he handed her the coffee, she asked him once more, “What’s wrong?”
He looked at her, not wanting to miss a minute of the time they did have together, but he’d promised to never lie and didn’t want to hide his true feelings. He was already so careful when pushing for memories that he didn’t want to be careful when it came to the topic of her impending nuptials. “That date is just out there looming over us. I can’t help feeling that way, but I do. That had once been our date, Grace. It would have been our third wedding anniversary next month.”
Grace leaned against the counter, and asked, “Would it help if I didn’t talk about it?”
“Not talking about it doesn’t change the facts. I’m not asking you to leave him, Grace. I wouldn’t do that to you, but I can’t help but want that just the same. You know how I felt, and I’ve even told you how I still feel about you.” Was Rebecca right? Maybe Grace had become an obsession he couldn’t let go of. His words were painful and brutally honest. He was determined to win her back, but what if . . . what if he didn’t? What if she married the doctor? “I need to figure things out as well.”
“If you don’t think you can be around me any longer, I understand.”
Ben was a thoughtful man. He had many talents but was only passionate about one thing in life and that was Grace. “It would kill me to lose you again. I’m just being honest. I realize you’re with him and that at this point you’re still planning to get married. It’s too soon for me to want more. Logically, I know this, but seeing you and being with you, touching you, Grace, it’s what I was made to do.” Ben set his cup down, walked back into the living room, and stood at the large window. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared out into the twinkling lights of downtown Chicago.
He didn’t hear her approach, but instinctively he knew she was there. “Ben?” she whispered behind him, her cheek coming to rest on his back as her arms slid around to hold him. He lowered his own arms, covering hers and grabbing hold of her hands, keeping her tightly to him. Her voice was soft, and he could feel her warm breath on his skin when she spoke. “How did we get from that awards dinner to here so fast? Within the last two days, I went from feeling so alone to rediscovering who I am. I feel such comfort in your presence and a constant need to be near you, to touch you. My feelings seem wrong, but I don’t want to deny them.”
Ben turned slowly around, not breaking her hold on him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He had those same needs for her, but each day he had watched her leave. His feelings weren’t wrong. Neither were hers. He rubbed his cheek against the side of her head. “I may not be in here yet,” he said, gently touching her temple with his finger then went to her chest above her heart, and tapped. “But I’m in here. You just have to give yourself time to remember.” Grace sighed, closing her eyes, and he knew she could hear his heartbeat as he held her. “Do you have that kind of time?”
“I’ll make the time for you, Ben. I promise. I owe you so much already. You’ve given me what I’ve been missing for so long, and I want to know my family.”
Leaning back, he looked into her eyes. “What about . . . him?”
“I need to consider his feelings, but being with you doesn’t feel like a betrayal.”
It feels right. Something he felt every time he was with her. They stood there for a bit before she excused herself to use the bathroom. He settled back on the couch and was thinking about all the things they’ve said and done. She felt everything was moving too fast, and he felt it was all too slow, but it felt right. Even she felt it. It wasn’t quite four in the morning, and he was exhausted, emotionally and physically. And then her phone rang. There was only one person who would be calling her at that hour. His anger surged, and he thought, yeah, that’s right, she’s with me, asshole. It rang three times and then stopped, eventually chirping once to signal a voicemail. Grace came over just before ten and the doctor hadn’t bothered calling all night until now? Asshole. He had no respect for her, so Ben considered whether he would tell Grace or not. Knowing he called, she might leave and that’s the last thing he wanted to happen. He still felt raw over Rebecca’s betrayal and knew he wouldn’t want Grace to feel tricked into being with him. If she were with him, it would be because she chose to be. Wanted to be. So when Grace walked back out to him looking upset, she asked, “What? What happened?”
And even if it hurt his cause, he told her the truth. “Your phone rang while you were in the bathroom. It sounded like you also got a message.”
“Oh.” Grace began to pace, and soon she bit the side of her cheek, which told him she was worrying.
As he watched her debate what to do, he lay down on the couch, stretching as far as the couch would accommodate his long body and patted the space next to him.
“It can wait until morning.” She lay down, pressing her backside to his front as he covered them with the blanket again then spooned her. His arm cradled her close, her hair tickling his nose. He couldn’t fathom that she was here by choice. She had a fiancé and a place where she laid her head each night, so for her to come here, it meant more than he could articulate. The silence allowed his mind to settle in to the fact that not only was she here, but she’d chosen to stay. “Grace?” he whispered to the back of her head.
“Yes?”
“Thank you for coming over tonight.” He was still confused as to why she had come. She had looked like Grace when she arrived, not Jane, in her designer dresses and shoes. Baggy T-shirt, yoga pants, and flip-flops . . . that was all Grace.
He kissed the back of her head, and she said, “Tonight, I’m where I need to be.”
Does that mean tonight she is Grace?
14
Jane Parker
Jane awoke with a start. She fell forward and rolled right off the couch.
“Grace? Are you all right?” Emily asked, rushing to help her.
Jane pushed up off the floor a bit awkwardly as she tried to gather her wits about her. She didn’t immediately respond to the name Grace, but she was becoming more comfortable with it. “Um, yeah, I guess.”
Jane looked around once she was on her feet. It was just after eight and she was surprised she had slept so soundly for those last four hours, considering she’d slept on a couch. She never slept that soundly at home and was usually up by six. She stood there, unsure of what she should do next.
Emily said, “Ben’s in the shower right now. I just made coffee and I have biscuits in the oven.”
“Wow,” was all she could manage to say. Her
mornings were normally so quiet. Hunter usually slept until six and then would leave to hit the gym before going to work. He used to try to get her to spend time with him in the early hours by working out together, but she preferred a quieter wake-up routine. She stopped to check her phone, putting it to her ear and listening to the message. “Where are you?” Hunter asked. Closing her eyes, his voice didn’t crack from pain or hurt like her heart had been since their last encounter, making her wonder if she was the only one who had been affected. “I want you home.”
She turned the message off and set her phone back down. Joining Emily in the kitchen, she realized she didn’t mind the early morning chaos of people, conversation, cooking, and coffee together. But maybe it was the company she was keeping. She reached for a mug, knowing exactly where they were stored from the night before and made her coffee.
She could feel Emily’s gaze on her, and turned to see her watching with great interest. Emily asked, “Will you still meet for lunch?”
“Yes, I’d like to do that.”
“You two were up late.” Emily winked and then took a sip from her mug.
“Yeah, I guess we were.”
“I woke up around two and saw the light on, so I turned it off. You were both asleep on the couch.”
Emily wasn’t asking a direct question, but Jane heard it in her tone. She didn’t mind because there was something about Emily that put her at ease. “Yes, we were talking and it got late, so we—”
“Good morning,” Ben said, freshly showered, cleanly shaven, and smelling out-of-this-world amazing. Damn, he looked good, and she couldn’t help consider how lucky she was that she used to have sex with him. She had seen all of him. Everything. She had seen everything beneath the gym shorts he was now wearing. Jane had a strong suspicion he was shirtless again on purpose, that he was using his body, aka his “secret weapon,” to get to her. Cue the dirty thoughts. Again.