I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. All this time I'd been reluctant to examine the memory, knowing it would tarnish. Everything these people were sharing and writing about - it was so far removed from anything I'd ever experienced. I didn't think it was possible. But I knew what they were writing was real. Every word pulsed with authenticity.
Was this something I could have?
With him?
Just the thought of it was enough to make my heart race. The way he'd kissed me...if the lovemaking was even half as intense, I'd probably explode into a cloud of lust.
But there were the practical considerations. Such as, we weren't really together. He didn't want that. He'd made it very clear. Things would get too complicated, and then where would we be?
Hell, I didn't know. I was just trusting his judgment. Why was complicated bad? Why didn't he want to be with me, for real? It wasn't for lack of desire. I'd felt the proof of that, pressed against my thigh.
Grown men didn't get hard-ons from lukewarm kisses from women they were only pretending to like. I might have a sad, hollow excuse for a sexual history, but even I knew that.
I was tired of playing games, but this was what I'd signed up for.
***
Ben called me out of the blue, while I was sitting on the floor watching Laura set up her Little People village.
"Hi," I said. "I'm working."
"With the baby?" His voice sounded a little bit strange. "Tell her hi for me."
"I'll make sure to do that," I said, dryly. "What's going on?"
"This is embarrassing," he said, "but I need a favor."
A beat. I cleared my throat.
"...okay?"
He was - sleepy? Or...slightly tipsy, or something. "I've got to have my wisdom tooth out."
I blinked. "Now? Aren't you about thirty-five?"
"Thirty-three," he said. "Although I'm not sure why that's relevant."
"Don't you usually have that done when you're like...fifteen?" I crawled over to rescue a firefighter who'd rolled away, under the sofa. Laura's frown of concern turned into a smile. "Or is that only for commoners?"
He sighed. "I might've...procrastinated."
"Oh, for..." I stood up, walking the length of the room while I shook my head. I seemed incapable of talking to this man without pacing. "Okay, so, what?"
"I need a ride," he said. "My driver, Tim - his grandmother got sick and he's got to leave town for a while."
"Oh. Well if you talk to him, tell him I'm sorry to hear that." I thought for a moment. "What about Carol?"
"She's busy that day," he said. "On vacation. In the Bahamas. Requested it over a year ago. I'm not that much of an irredeemable asshole. Besides, you're supposed to be my girlfriend."
I really didn't like the tingle that ran through me at that word. "What if I already had a vacation scheduled in the Bahamas?"
"That would be strange," he said. "Seeing as you're my girlfriend."
Right.
I actually felt bad for him. The guy had no family, at least no one local, and
"Tuesday," he said. "Nine o'clock in the morning. It's uptown. There's a parking garage. I'll pay for it."
"I should certainly hope so." I worried my lower lip between my teeth. "You know I don't have a car, right?"
"I'll rent one for you," he said.
"Uh, don't you have like twenty cars?" I didn't actually know. I just assumed.
He laughed a slightly dopey laugh. "Just because I'm rich, I must have twenty cars? I don't. Who the hell drives in this city?"
"So you don't have a car?" I was slightly bewildered. "I mean, besides the one Tim drives."
Laughing again, he took a moment to respond. "I have cars. Just not twenty. Not even close."
Oh, boy. What was he on? I rolled my eyes as I replied. "Well, it seems like just one would be enough to avoid renting."
"You are not driving one of my cars," he said, firmly. I could practically hear him crossing his arms.
"You sound like a spoiled child," I informed him. "But, fine. Sure. Of course. Like I'm going to pass up an opportunity to hear your twilight sleep ramblings."
I wondered if he'd considered that. With a sharp intake of breath, he seemed to think about the possibility for the first time.
"Don't blackmail me," he said, finally. "You wouldn't like me when I'm blackmailed."
A burst of laughter came out, before I could stop it. Laura glanced up at me in alarm. "Are you high right now?"
"A little," he said. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I went to the doctor and he gave me something for the pain. It's pretty strong. I forgot how strong it is."
"Don't drive anywhere," I warned him. Suddenly, I remembered how he'd seemed to be in pain before we went to the club. "Was that what you were poking at, the other night?"
"It's been bothering me for a while," he admitted. "I guess I was hoping it would go away on its own."
"Sure, that's what usually happens with dental problems, right?" I snickered at him.
"Yes!" he said, defensively. "If you ignore them for long enough, they just rot and fall out. Problem solved. But this one's a special case. It's stuck in there. Apparently I need a surgeon. It's complete bullshit, if you ask me. How does a tooth even get this fucked up? I think there's a conspiracy involved. I knew I shouldn't have turned down that offer to join the Illuminati."
"You're not making any sense," I told him.
"You're not making any sense," he grumbled. "By the way, I have very good oral hygiene. This is just one of those...one in a million medical errors."
"Okay, sure," I said. "But for the record, an impacted wisdom tooth isn't exactly one-in-a-million. I had all mine taken out when I was a kid."
"Conspiracy," he mumbled. "See? Told you. How do you know for sure they wouldn't have grown in? The dentists have us by the balls, I'm telling you."
"Right, well, make sure to let me know when you've finalized all your theories on that," I said. "I have to go. I'll talk to you later."
***
Why was I so worried?
Sitting in the waiting room, I twisted a loose thread on my sleeve, over and over and over again. I wondered if I should have worn something more glamorous to take my billionaire boyfriend to the dentist. Would I pass as the appealingly unsophisticated girl-next-door type, a breath of fresh air after a lifetime of models and heiresses?
A family came into the crowded waiting room, four of them, and they searched silently for a place to sit together. Everything on my side was taken, but there were two sets of two empty seats on the other side, bisected by a completely oblivious couple. The family was too polite to say anything, and they split, glancing at each other awkwardly over the couples' heads. I fumed silently, fighting the irrational urge to jump up and scream at them for failing to notice the blindingly obvious.
Ben was going to be fine. It was a routine procedure, so common, so simple. But I'd looked over his shoulder when he signed the waivers. I knew all the things that could go wrong, simply because of the anesthetic. I knew they were just covering their asses. But they still needed his signature, just to make sure that he understood. There was a chance - however small, however insignificant - that he wouldn't wake up again.
Stop thinking like that.
I stared at the TV, slowly nursing an irrational hatred for everyone involved in the production of Days of Our Lives.
After what felt like an eternity, the nurse with the clipboard finally called my name.
"Ms. Hadley? You can come back now."
She looked relaxed enough, so I didn't hold my breath as I followed her to the recovery area.
"Everything went great," she said, leading me to his cot. He still looked mostly asleep, pretty peaceful, and only slightly like a chipmunk. "He's pretty groggy. You might have to stay with him for a while. Some people come out slower than others. Do you know if he's usually like this?"
I shrugged uncomfortably, like the nurse somehow knew my secret. "No, I...I m
ean, he's never been put under since I've known him."
"Well, if somebody can watch over him for the next couple of hours at least, that'd be ideal. He might have a little trouble with his balance for a while, and he'll have to be careful with eating. His stomach might reject anything he eats for a while. It's no big deal, except you're not going to want to clean up the mess."
"Right," I said. Of all the things I'd imagined myself doing to scrape by in New York, cleaning up a billionaire's puke certainly wasn't among them.
Then again, neither was any of this. But I had to draw the line somewhere.
Ben made a small noise, stirring and opening his eyes slightly.
"He won't remember any of this," the nurse said. "And even after he seems 'awake,' he probably won't remember most of that, either. And anything he says is likely to be complete gibberish. The best thing will be for him to just sleep it off."
She rattled off a few more instructions, reminding me a few more times that he wasn't going to remember anything. After she left, Ben seemed to come back to consciousness a little bit. He worked his mouth open and closed a few times, and made a slight noise.
"You want something to drink?" I asked him, holding up the bottle of water. He nodded, and I tipped a little into his mouth. He swallowed with difficulty, his eyelids heavy.
"I don't feel very good," he muttered, his head falling back on the pillow.
"Well, that's understandable." I patted his hand, unsure of how I should try to comfort him. Nobody was around, so I didn't feel like I needed to put on a show. Would his ex-wife's lawyer really come around and interview the dental staff, anyway?
He groaned softly.
"The nurse said you'd probably throw up," I told him.
"I won't," he said. stubbornly. "I've been under general before. I don't throw up. They always tell me I will, but I don't."
He sounded so belligerent. I grinned in spite of myself. "Okay. But you need to be careful about eating, anyway."
"Fuck careful," he muttered. "Order me a pizza."
I glanced at the room, and then back at him. "I'm not ordering you a pizza to the surgeon's office," I told him. "You can't chew it, anyway."
He groaned again.
"I'll get you a milkshake on the way home," I promised him. "After we go to the pharmacy."
The nurse was passing by, and she laughed. "If you're planning on having kids, this is pretty good practice."
I smiled wanly.
***
Fighting the traffic wasn't quite as bad as I'd anticipated, and Ben had already arranged for the valet at his place to return the car to the rental agency. Ben wasn't swaying anymore, so I let him walk up the stairs on his own, slowly, guiding him towards the sofa in his library once we got inside. Getting up another flight of stairs seemed like an unnecessary hassle.
He laid down gingerly, groaning.
"Want something to eat?"
He shook his head. Right. With oral surgery, it was unlikely he'd want anything for a while. It had been so long, I forgot.
I perched on the arm of the sofa, awkwardly, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now.
"Hey," he mumbled.
"I'm here," I told him.
"Is it normal to remember some of the surgery?"
I almost wanted to laugh at the way he sounded with the gauze still stuffed in his mouth, but I didn't. "I don't know. Maybe. Could you feel it?"
"No," he said. "Not really. I think I just woke up at the very end."
There was a moment of silence.
"I have a Tesla," he said.
I processed this for a moment.
"Okay," I replied. "Like, the car?"
"No, like the scientist," he muttered. "The fuck do you think?"
"No need to be a dick about it." I got up and settled down in the chair across from him. "Although, on the plus side, I guess that means you're feeling better."
"I feel great," he said. "I feel like that Pink Floyd song. Doo doo doo...a distant ship, smoke on the water...I turned to look, but the child was gone..." He hummed, very off-key, waving one arm like a drunk conductor, while I nearly doubled over with laughter.
"I don't think that's how it goes," I managed, as he drifted off. "So you've got a Tesla, huh?"
"You seemed interested in my cars," he muttered. "When I first asked you for a ride. I thought you might be curious. It's very pretty." He sighed. "We should take it for a spin sometime."
"Okay, sure," I said. "Just as soon as you can remember all the actual words to 'Comfortably Numb.'"
Very slowly, he lifted up his arm, and flipped me off.
The room settled into silence again, and
"You know why I picked you?" His eyes were closed, and I had no way of knowing if he was really talking to me. Or to anyone. For all I knew, he was seeing nothing but pink elephants and babies crawling on the ceiling.
Even so, my heart started racing. "No," I said. "Why?"
"Because," he said, slowly. "You really do."
If I prodded him, I'd probably make him forget what he was going to say. But I had to know.
"I really do what?"
He sighed. "Shine like a diamond."
It took me a while to remember what I'd sarcastically said at that party, when I was feeling inadequate next to all the elegant and wealthy women who vied for his attention on a daily basis.
"I saw it right away," he said. "You're different. Maybe that was a stupid reason, and I should've picked somebody ordinary. Everything would be easier. But I didn't. I picked you."
Smiling, I leaned back in my seat. "I'm sure none of the women you've been with are ordinary."
"I guess that's true," he muttered. "Maybe I'm the ordinary one."
I laughed. "Not a lot of ordinary people have Teslas and private drivers."
"Daria hated it too," he muttered.
I was trying to keep up. "Daria?"
He didn't answer, but I realized that must be his ex-wife. He'd never called her by name before.
"My money," he said. "She hated it, too. Eventually, she hated me."
There was genuine sadness in his voice, and I felt terrible in spite of myself. "I'm sure she didn't hate you," I said.
"I wasn't enough for her," he mumbled. A moment later, his voice became louder, clearer. "I'm never enough for any of them." He faded a little more. "Never enough."
I waited patiently, sensing he wasn't quite finished. The nurse had told me it would all be nonsense. I had to keep that in mind. I should just walk away and let him sleep, but I wanted to hear it. Even if it was all total garbage, I had to know.
"The only reason I take control is because I don't know what else to do. Anything else...terrifies me. Of course I have to give them all the power. That's the hell of it. That's the thing that keeps me awake at night. They can always walk away, and of course that's how it has to be. I'd never really want it any other way. But still..." he sighed. "I can't stand it. Any of it. I drive them away because it feels inevitable. Because I just can't see any other end to it."
I swallowed hard. "I wasn't your fault, with Daria," I said. "She made a choice."
He laughed softly. "Of course it was. I made it impossible for her. You know how I can get, and you barely even know me. Cold. Sarcastic. I made myself unlovable, and then I blamed her for not loving me. Imagine trying to live with me at my worst, twenty-four-seven. I was never outright hostile, and that was the worst part. I made her feel like a bad person for wanting to leave me, so that's what she became. Everything she did, everything she became...it's all because of me. It's what I deserved.
"And that's why I didn't fight it," he said, his voice still faint but unmistakably clear and coherent. "Because deep down, just like the rest of them...I wanted to accept my punishment." His mouth twitched, but didn't quite become a smile. "I thought if I didn't fight it, if I let her...metaphorically, you know, stomp all over me in stiletto heels, I thought that would be enough. That I'd rest easy after that. I thought I'd f
eel better. She had the power to make the guilt go away. Or at least make it bearable. But of course, she didn't.
"She didn't owe me that. Nobody did. But I still haven't forgiven her. I need it. I need it, and I can never have it. It's never as easy as it seems. But I guess that's why I'm so good at what I do. Every submissive always says I'm the best she's ever had...and I know what you're thinking, but I can tell when a woman's lying to me. I'm the best, because I know exactly what they're after. Seeing somebody else experience that release - it's the closest I can get to experiencing it myself. I'll be chasing it forever, but I'll never find it."
His eyes opened, suddenly. A ghostly smile was tugging at his mouth, but his lips seemed too sluggish to give in. "And that's it. Pathetic, huh? I've been trying to punish myself for so long, and it's only at the last minute that I realized I didn't want it. Like jumping off a bridge. That's the real reason why it took so long. When I'm sober I won't even be able to admit it to myself, but that's the truth. I thought maybe if she really did get my company, that would do it. But now I've realized it's not going to be enough. It's never going to be enough. Because forgiveness is something you have to give someone. I can't take it by force."
He was starting to drift off again, his eyelids fluttering closed. I wanted to say something, to comfort him, even if he'd forget all of this in a few hours. I just wanted him to stop drowning in his guilt, even if it was only for a little while.
A moment later, he exhaled softly, and I realized he was asleep.
Chapter Twenty
Jenna
Once Ben was recovered, he took me out to dinner at one of those restaurants with reservations booked out for a year. We hadn't spoken since the day of the surgery, and I didn't know if he remembered anything he'd said while he was coming out of it.
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