My lip quivers, and the rest of me threatens to break.
She gasps. “Oh God, Ben! And you let me go on like that?”
“I don’t know if she wants you to know right now. I feel shitty asking you to tone it down today, but she’s going through a lot.”
“Oh my God, of course I won’t. Why wouldn’t she tell me?”
“Darcy is used to handling things on her own. She raised herself, so I think she’s so accustomed to dealing with everything on her own she can’t let anyone else see the full picture. And then when it overflows and she can’t keep anything back, she’s completely tormented, completely fucked up.”
“Poor girl.”
“I haven’t even seen her cry about it. I have no idea what to do. I’m so worried I’m going to upset her.”
“Ben, I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine what you guys are going through. The accident, and then this…”
“I acted like a fucking idiot that day. I was terrible, Rebecca.”
“What did you do?”
“I find it hard to even repeat.”
“Ben…”
“I-I told her I was only pretending to want the baby so she’d be happy. I told her that.” His voice is shaking. “Fuck, Bec, the accident happened literally seconds later. It was like…like I willed her to lose it.”
The sound of his wheezing breaths, the low, shocking rumble a man makes when he’s trying to stop tears from being shed leaves me frozen, forced to listen to Benjamin break down in front of his sister.
“And when she was crying out in pain, I don’t think I was ever so scared. I was sure I was going to lose them both.”
“Ben!” she gasps, as if she can’t believe it. Knowing their relationship, the last time she’s probably seen him vulnerable enough to cry was when Daniel died. “Come here.”
“No, I’m fine,” he says stubbornly. I’m positive he’s pushed her away. “I’m fine. It’s all…just a lot.”
“Neither of you need to put on a brave face right now, Benjamin. You went through two traumas at once. I know you wanted that baby. This isn’t your fault.”
“But it is,” he cuts her off before she can argue. “Rebecca, it is. I stormed out of that office. I put us in the car. I screamed and upset her.”
“Well, when she gets pregnant again, you won’t act that way, all right? You both will be careful.”
“That means me overlooking the fact that pregnancy could kill her. I don’t know how to get right with that. Darcy is my world.”
“I know she is,” she whispers warmly. “I know. I saw what you were like without her, and I’d never wish that for you again. But she’s felt what it’s like to be pregnant. That feeling isn’t going to just go away, Ben.”
“Then we can adopt, you know? Do something else. There’s other ways to have a child without putting her in danger.”
“That sounds appealing to you, but does it to her? Ben, she just lost a child. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve got one growing in me right now, but I find it hard to believe Darcy won’t want to try again in the future, and you’re just going to have to get right with that.”
His silence speaks volumes. She’s asking for more than he’s willing to give right now. It’s crossed my mind multiple times that his grief might stem in some way from the underlying relief he may feel at the loss of the unfamiliar, dangerous territory we were entering.
“I should come back tomorrow,” she says, but I’ve already scrambled to my feet, swiping away any remains of my pain, and opened the door.
I cross the room and set eyes upon them at the table. Benjamin momentarily looks at his lap with discomfort but gathers himself, refusing to let me see what he believes to be weakness. Rebecca smiles, resembling her brother closely as I approach the table.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize, and she hops out of her seat, shaking her head.
“No, no. You could have told me, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I say, refusing to hold her pregnancy against her. This is a time for celebration for her. I won’t be the person to take that away for even a second.
Benjamin remains quiet, assessing me. His words are twirling around in my brain, and because of that, I do my best to keep my gaze from his. I don’t want him to know I listened to their conversation.
She gathers her things, glancing at Benjamin. “I will let you guys get some rest. Would it be okay if I stole Darcy from you tomorrow?”
Benjamin gapes, uncomfortably put on the spot. To save him the trouble, I agree, as positively as I can, mostly because I believe another day in seclusion may drive me to madness.
“Good. I’ll come pick you up at noon.” She hugs me again, this time squeezing just long enough to strike me with emotion and remind me of her pity. I pull back, and she hugs Ben. I scoop up their dishes while he walks her to the elevator.
There’s a tight, violent twisting in my chest that began when she entered, but it’s lingering like an omen. I’m inhaling fiercely through my nose, trying to catch my breath. My hands are shaking against the white dishes, so I scrub them harder.
It won’t always be this hard. I just need to heal.
I can get through this. I’ve been fine up till now. I’ve kept it together pretty well.
I slam my eyes shut, exhaling shakily as I see a vision of what I thought she’d look like. Long black hair like her father. Maybe blue eyes like me. A backpack and new sneakers because it’s her first day of school…
I’d be quickly throwing together a lunch for her while she eats her Cheerios on Benjamin’s lap…
I hear the clatter of the plate falling into the sink as I completely let go, losing hold of myself altogether, the dam finally crumbling. The force of my grief is impressively powerful and steals my air from my lungs. Painful, loud wails come from a deep part of my chest, and I’m unable to hold back. I shield my face with both my hands, gutted by the memories I created in my mind. An arm winds around my chest, and Benjamin’s body conforms to my back.
“I-I’m s-sorry. I’m being s-stupid.”
“Shh, baby. Shh.”
“God, I hate this!” I sob, clutching his arm tightly while he nudges my cheek with soft, tender kisses. He was right. Tonight was my undoing.
“Let it out. Let it out, love.”
I suck in desperate gasps, as though I’m running out of oxygen. He moves his hand from my shoulder upwards, massaging the curve of my neck.
“W-Why does it hurt like this?” I sob. “I can picture her in my head. Why? Why does it hurt like this?”
“Because you already loved her.”
His words release a new, powerful wave of tears, and he doesn’t let me go. His grip never loosens. Bludgeoning rakes of hurt course through me as I manage to calm myself in his arms. Embarrassed, I reach out for a napkin, hoping removing the tear stains will stop them from falling. My swollen skin resists the rough material.
His phone rings on the table.
“I’m okay. Get it,” I say, yearning for a moment alone. He moves slow but eventually does as I ask. He answers his cell briskly, saying only his name.
“No, no. That’s the wrong form. We already spoke about this.”
His voice fades as he walks away, probably to the bedroom. I set down the napkin on the counter and pick up the plates, determined to finish washing them. The tears don’t completely cease.
I shut off the lights and walk into the living room, taking a seat on the sofa. The apartment is dead quiet, other than the soft rumble of Benjamin’s voice in the room. My eyes are heavy and ready for the blissful darkness sleep brings.
I don’t hear Benjamin when he returns, only noticing when he sits beside me. He lifts the arm not casted, and I gratefully mold my body to his chest, settling into the crook of his arm.
“It kills me to see you like this.”
I wish I could wrap my arms around him, but unfortunately, his entire torso is one big battlefield of wounds. I settle on grasping his hand, care
ful of the healing cut on his palm.
“I wish we could go back, back to our honeymoon…back to when everything was perfect.”
He nods his chin against my hair. “Me too.”
***
I stand at the dresser staring at myself in the mirror as I chase my medication down with a sip of water. I fondle the strand of black hair I’ve placed perfectly to cover the couple of stitches I have on my forehead. I honestly have no idea why they look so terrifying, but they do. I run my hand over a yellow bruise on my lip.
Using a dark lipstick, I try my best to cover up what I can. The cons of going out in public. We’ve been in hiding, and no doubt the media is waiting to catch the first instance we attempt to reacquaint ourselves with the world.
I’m just lucky they don’t know about the baby. I press down underneath my eyes, remembering yesterday, remembering the pain. This morning I woke up with no tears. I felt a resolve, a calmness that scares me. I recall what Benjamin said to his sister at the dinner table yesterday.
It’s like…like I willed her to lose it.
The words make my mouth dry. The thought that he’s holding the miscarriage, the accident, over his head is heartbreaking. Shame falls upon me at the thought that I haven’t done much to sway his dark thoughts. I move over to the bed, choosing a pair of black flats to match my dress. With the bathroom door open, I catch a glimpse of my glorious husband.
He has on a clear wrapping around his sprained limb, a clear sling holding up his arm in place. He’s running his free hand through his hair, spreading shampoo through the long locks. I’m transfixed by his dominating stance even when completely alone. He glances through the glass, shocked to find me there, watching him. The burns on his chest stand out next to the dark hair trailing over his pecs. His wound, that will most definitely scar, crosses over almost half of his abdomen, looking fierce and painful.
I don’t even realize I’m undressing until I open the shower door, stepping in. He’s watching me carefully, his hand on his stomach. I’m aware I’m about to ruin all the work I just did making my face look presentable, but I couldn’t care less. I shut the glass behind me, now in close proximity with this Adonis of a husband. I raise myself onto my tiptoes, smoothing the shampoo into his hair, making sure all of it is covered. He tilts his head under the shower, letting the water do its work untangling whatever knots there were.
I want to comfort him. I want to adore him and show him love.
“Aren’t you late?” he asks.
I drag my fingers through his hair, rinsing out the suds. “Do you know how happy you make me? How good you are to me?”
His spine snaps erect, his face lifting high enough that I can’t reach the top of his head. He turns his cheek to me. “Darcy, don’t.”
“I heard you yesterday.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice bounces off the walls.
“I won’t have you blaming yourself, Benjamin. You got angry that day, yes. You said a lot of things you didn’t mean. So did I. We handled all of this so poorly, but that is not the reason I’m not pregnant right now.”
He’s silent for a really long time, long enough that I’ve moved on to washing more of him. I caress his arm with soap, careful around the jagged slits where broken glass once covered most of him. He doesn’t complain.
“I know you may…you may not believe me, but—”
“You wanted the baby,” I say for him, and his silence confirms it. I’m oddly relieved to be speaking openly about this. “I know about the nursery.”
His face tilts enough that I can see the uneasy look in his eyes. “You do?”
“Yes, I do.” I lift on my toes and kiss the curve of his jaw, where rough stubble has begun to grow. “It’s a beautiful gesture.”
“I was going to surprise you,” he says.
“Which is why I love you…more than anything the world, Benjamin. We both lost a lot that day, but we didn’t lose each other. I won’t let you hurt yourself over this.”
“Everything is so different now. A week ago, our lives were significantly different, and now, we’re back…back to what we’re used to. Except it’s worlds away from that.”
“We need to take care of each other, do this together. It’s the only way I can stand this.”
He nods, slowly, and clasps the back of my neck. “This is forever, Darcy Scott. I’m here.”
CHAPTER NINE
Benjamin’s sister is a mirror of caution, using our time at lunch to shield me from children, to occupy me with relaying the details of Benjamin’s proposal, our marriage. It’s admirable how intensely she cares, although I can catch her discomfort whenever someone stares at her stomach for too long or stops by the table to ask how far along she is.
My intimate conversation with Benjamin has made all of this bearable. To enter public society and withstand the intrusive photographs and questions is frightening in itself, but I feel the breaking point has passed. I’ve gone numb. So when they ask Rebecca about her baby, I find a way to tune it out, to focus on my food or some pedestrian passing by.
It works better than I thought it would.
The chicken salad sandwich I ordered is sitting on the plate untouched. However, I’m on my second glass of freshly brewed iced tea, which this restaurant is known for. I still can’t keep much down.
Rebecca regards me kindly after minutes of silence. “It will get better.”
“I know. I know it will.”
My positivity is forced, and it doesn’t slide past her.
“When I heard from Mom that you and Ben were in the hospital after a terrible accident, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared.”
“Yes, she came to see Benjamin a few days after he regained consciousness, with Alexander.”
Can she hear my disdain?
“Things between them were already rocky with Alexander’s runaround to Ben about parting from Scott Industries. How long did they stay?”
“A few minutes.” I consider whether I should keep my mouth shut and leave their family drama to them. That proves to be too difficult. I set down my glass, sighing. “They asked him for money for their new company.”
Rebecca’s blank stare is a perfect representation of how anyone with a pulse would react to that statement. Alexander had enough grace to look mortified by his mother’s lack of care for her other son, but it didn’t make him rethink taking money from him. That makes them both unworthy in my eyes.
“They did that in the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“How much did they ask for?”
“A million dollars.”
She chokes on her tea. “Excuse me?”
I nod, glad someone is as appalled as I am. Benjamin acted as if it were an everyday occurrence.
“So they went there and asked him for money and left?”
“I reacted to it pretty badly. If your mother didn’t completely loathe me before, she does now. I ran after them, told them that Benjamin’s heart stopped in that accident, that the doctors had to pump his chest with electricity to revive him. It’s a miracle he’s here at all.”
Rebecca’s mouth opens in disbelief. “His heart stopped?”
I glance to my stomach, a flat, hollow thing, a thick lump in my throat. “His sprained wrist? That happened when he shot his arm out to protect me and the baby from the impact of the crash. He was impaled by a shard of glass, and he still found the strength to get me out of the rubble.”
Her features have paled considerably, making me believe I’ve ruined this lunch. But she needs to know this.
“They have no idea how amazing he is. He and I were fighting when it happened, and I know that weighs on him, but he did everything he could to try to help me. They hardly cared, and it destroys me that he knows that.”
We’re interrupted by the waitress, who deposits our check with the to-go meal I ordered for Benjamin. I take the bill before Rebecca, which is a similar reaction to one Ben gives me when I do that. She doesn’t fight me like
him though, which I’m grateful for.
“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind tonight. Alexander too. We have our differences, but we’re blood. This shit needs to stop. He’s not their bank account.”
Her words relieve me a great deal.
“Benjamin would probably kill me for telling you all this.”
“You are looking out for him.” She smiles. “He’s lucky he has someone who wants to fight for him.”
***
Benjamin is defying doctor’s orders when I enter the apartment, comforted by how well lunch went with his sister. Standing up, bent over his computer, he turns to watch me walk in, speaking to someone low on the phone.
“I won’t be back for a few more days, at least.”
Not wanting to interrupt him, I approach him only to kiss him. It’s a chaste kiss, one that I don’t settle on for long. Sex for us is not an option, and in reality, I don’t feel the drive for it. My body is weak and slow in recovery. My mind is even worse.
I move to the kitchen, set down his food, and fish a water bottle from the fridge. I’m unscrewing the cap when Benjamin shuts his computer and says, “Tiffany, those tickets I purchased last year…they are still valid, right?” He nods as I regard him suspiciously. “Yes, the London tickets.”
I set down the bottle without taking my eyes off of him. What is he doing?
“Can you get us the next flight out? Yes, thank you, Tiffany. Have the tickets ready at the information desk, and inform Dimitri that we are leaving the country.”
He hangs up, smiling at how shell-shocked I am.
“London?”
He walks around the couches and expensive side tables, approaching me with more grace than he’s had for days. He clasps the back of my neck so I’ll tilt up to him. I do just that, sure he’s insane.
“I always promised I’d take you one day. I think it’d be good for us to…recover a bit. It’s perfect timing. Cindy’s given you time off. I had no intention of going back for a few more days. Why shouldn’t we go?”
I touch his wrist worriedly. He reassures me with a nod.
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