The End of All Things Beautiful

by Nikki Young

  “Crazy how things have changed,” I say, and Jack nods. Everything in my life used to be high pressure. It’s funny because I feel like I can finally breathe again.

  I wish Jack goodbye and agree that we’ll talk more about the job later on. As I’m getting ready to close the door, I bend down and poke my head back in.

  “Thank you. Seriously, Jack. I really appreciate it. Not just the job, but for coming with me, for being so understanding. For everything.”

  “It’s all good, Campbell,” he says with a smile on his face, and for once, it is all good.

  I walk away from the car giving Jack a quick wave before scampering up the steps to my house. It’s only been two days, but I can’t wait to see Benji.

  He’s sitting on the couch when I walk in. I immediately walk over, climb into his lap, and rest my head on his shoulder.

  “How’d it go with your mom?” I ask as I press my lips to his neck. I feel his hands run up and down my back and I close my eyes relishing the feel of his body against mine once again.

  “You first,” he says, and while I love that he always wants to put me first, I need this to be about him. I know his time with his mom was far more difficult than mine was.

  “No, baby,” I whisper against the curve of his neck, and I feel him shudder in my arms. He lets out a long exhale into my hair, his breath lingering along with the smell of liquor and for a moment I panic. What happened?

  I push back from him, but as soon as I do, he takes my face in his hands and he shakes his head. Cupping my cheek, he guides my mouth to his in a soft, sweet kiss. His tongue grazes my bottom lip and mine brushes lightly against his as he pulls away. He tastes like scotch and coupled with the way he smells and the warmth of his body, it’s intoxicating.

  “Everything’s fine, baby,” he says tiredly. “Just a long day. I needed a drink.”

  “You taste like scotch,” I murmur, my mouth only inches from his. “I like it. Kiss me again.”

  A loose smile forms on his face as he cradles the back of my neck and kisses me. Guiding me back until I’m lying on the couch, the weight of his body covers mine. I almost forget about our days apart and the reason we were separated, but it comes back quickly.

  “Stop trying to distract me, Benjamin Kennedy. Start talking, boy. No secrets, remember?” I say, running my hands up and under his shirt, my fingers trailing slowly down his ribs.

  “You’re terribly impatient,” he says, burying his face in my neck. “I just want to enjoy you for a second. I missed you.”

  “I missed you like crazy.” I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him closer; I let him find the comfort in me I know he needs.

  “There was a lot of crying,” Benji says without pulling back to look at me. His words are muffled, but still completely clear to me. “She wasn’t as hurt by the fact that I kept the accident from her as she was by the fact that I just disappeared.”

  “I can understand that,” I say, and as much as I understand why Benji did that, I’m now struggling with the reality of it all. At the time both of us thought it was best to hide our feelings and avoid discussing what happened. That somehow this would preserve us and allow us to forgive ourselves. But in actuality all it did was drive the people who could’ve helped us further away.

  I don’t think either of us intended to live a life of confinement and solitude, but to surround ourselves with the people we knew and loved was just too tempting. We knew we’d eventually breakdown and tell them everything.

  “So how did you leave things with her?”

  “Like I’d never even left,” Benji says, and although I can’t see his face I know he’s smiling. I feel it against my neck and it makes my entire body warm. I’m happy he was so easily able to repair years of lost time together. But that’s what a family is for. To accept you in spite of the awfulness that surrounds you.

  “That’s the way it should be.”

  “I know, but it makes me feel even guiltier for the way I behaved. She was devastated.” He pushes up off of me and lifts my legs, resting them on his lap, he sits next to me. “You should’ve seen her face when she opened the door,” he says, and I can tell he’s holding back the tears.

  “She recognized you?” I ask jokingly, as I run my fingers across his beard. He laughs, and takes my hand in his, pressing a kiss to my palm.

  “Yes she did, snarky girl. She started crying the moment she opened the door. I think she hugged me for at least ten minutes before she even said anything.”

  I start to tear up as he talks. I’m glad things went well for him. He really needed to know someone else cared about what he went through, that someone else missed him.

  “She wants to see you, too,” he adds, and I give him a strange look. I was always close with Benji’s mom growing up. She was more of the mothering, loving person than I ever had in my own mom, but after all this time I figured she would’ve let that go. “I told her we would stop by before we left to go back home.”

  It’s funny to hear him call Hessel home and that he’s already started calling it our home. There’s no uncertainty or concern in his voice. He talks about it like it has always been our home. I love it.

  “When do you want to leave?” I ask, and I see his face fall slightly. He thinks I’m not coming back with him. But after talking with Jack today and knowing my job is secure, I’m okay with leaving my house and moving in with him as soon as possible.

  “I should probably head back soon, in two or three days. I’ve left things at the store completely unattended. I’m sure my emails are out of control.”

  I’ve noticed that Benji hasn’t checked his email or done anything with his job since arriving here. It’s important that he gets back to take care of things. But I also know we have to find the time to talk to Samantha. Not something I’m looking forward to, but it needs to be done, if only for my own peace of mind.

  “I’m going back with you when you leave,” I say, completely foregoing the conversation we have to have about going to see Samantha. I can tell I’ve shocked him, but after that initial surprise wears off, his happiness shines through.

  “Seriously, baby?” he asks, pulling me into his arms. He kisses me hard, his lips colliding roughly with mine and I’m smiling as he kisses me.

  I love his reaction to this; it shows me that the only place I belong is with him. Not that I’ve ever doubted it.

  “Yes, seriously. I talked with Jack and he’s going to let me work from home, so I’m free to go. I just have to figure out what to do with the house.”

  “Fuck the house!” Benji yells, yanking me off the couch. “Baby, you’ve made me happier than I’ve been since you walked back into my life.”

  He lifts me off the ground, kissing me and squeezing me tightly as I laugh hysterically at his reaction. There are few things that elicit complete excitement and joy and nervousness in me, but Benji can do all that in a second.

  When he finally sets me down, his forehead resting against mine, I lean up and kiss the tip of his nose.

  With complete sincerity in his voice, he says, “I never thought there would come a day when you’d finally be living in the house with me.” His eyes are closed and my face is now in his hands. “I built the house for you, Campbell. I hoped you’d one day come back to me. I built the house for our family.”

  I don’t even know what to say. I’m shocked into silence. He waited for me all this time, never forgetting what we once had, what we now have again. I see him for all he was, all he is and all he will be and I know together, our life can finally begin.

  “Thank you,” I whisper. “I’m not sure what to say,” I add stupidly, and Benji chuckles.

  “You don’t need to say anything. You already said you’re coming with me and that’s enough for me. You’ll always be enough for me.”

  In this moment I also realize Benji’s business is named after me too. CB, Campbell and Benji. I smile at him, again unsure of what to say and I can tell by the way he’s looking at
me he realizes I’ve connected the pieces.

  “The store too?” I ask and his smile spreads as he nods his head.

  “I thought that if you ever did try to find me, it would be a reminder that I never forgot you. I never could. Everything I did was because of you, Campbell.”

  As much as I know why I never came looking for Benji until after Tommy’s letter, I wonder why he never looked for me.

  “Why didn’t you ever try to find me?” I ask him, despite knowing I left angry and hurt. I didn’t say it then, but my silence made it clear I was done.

  “I wanted to, but I also knew you were hurt by my behavior. I wasn’t the same person after the accident. I couldn’t be who you needed me to be and if I did find you, I would’ve had to admit everything I saw and everything that happened. I wasn’t ready.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed the way I felt about you. I might have been angry, but I still loved you,” I reassure him.

  “I know that now, but then I didn’t.”

  “All that matters now is that we’ve found our way back to each other,” I tell Benji, kissing him softly.

  “You’re right.”

  I’ve never been happier about the prospect of the future and of what’s to come for Benji and me. Now we just have to someway correct this situation with Samantha.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  There has always been a lot to discuss regarding the accident and the lives we ruined throughout all of this. Tommy’s wife, Samantha, being one of them. It’s hard to know exactly what to do, but for some reason, setting things right with her seems like a priority. While Benji and I have talked a lot about the accident and the lives it affected, we haven’t really discussed how Samantha came to be or the feelings her presence created in me. I’ve left it alone, focusing on the people most directly involved. In my mind, I’ve pushed her aside, even though I know she was indirectly traumatized by it all. I haven’t wanted to share how she made me feel. The guilt I carry is still stifling, but I know I can’t leave her out of all of this.

  After much debate, Benji and I decide not to meet up with Sam or Kelly’s families right now, but we both agree that Samantha needs an explanation even if she’s not interested in hearing the truth. For our own piece of mind, we need to salvage what we can, and possibly purge some of this guilt we have that surrounds Tommy’s death. While we were never directly involved, our indirect connection to it all has taken its toll on both of us.

  We also have always felt that visiting Sam and Kelly’s families would only open a very loosely healed wound. Like ripping off a scab, it’s not necessary; it will only create an even bigger scar. Our goal in all of this is not to make someone’s life worse, but to help all that are involved heal. There would be no healing for their families should we admit what we’ve done, especially in Sam’s case. There comes a time when we have to be okay with what we’ve done and know that we can’t change it, but we can continue to repair our own lives. I also wonder if there’s a part of us that fears their reaction. Maybe someday we’ll regret our decision, but until then, we have to learn to deal with it.

  We’ve also given a lot of thought to going to the police in Ann Arbor and confessing. But after Benji’s research and his visit to the station many years ago, we’ve both found that under the law, we would be guilty of nothing.

  The passenger of a vehicle, whether they leave the scene or not, cannot be held responsible for what occurs at the hand of the driver. What the law doesn’t say is the guilt that will haunt you will always be enough of a punishment.

  I often wonder if either of us will ever fully recover from this and the answer is probably not. While we have each other now, and that has healed some of the deepest wounds, I know there isn’t a chance any of this will ever magically be erased from our memories. I hope that as we work through this, we find ways to correct what we’ve done, to somehow make it right.

  All of this is the reason I need Samantha to know the truth. I can’t have her carrying the burden of hate and guilt that I imagine she feels. I can’t have her life ruined by this, or have her think it was somehow her fault. And even if it doesn’t work, even if she won’t hear me or can’t find it in her heart to understand, I will at least have made the attempt.

  It’s raining when we wake the next morning; relentless and pounding as it hits the windows, the room shrouded in darkness despite it being well after eight o’clock. Benji stirs next to me, his sleep has been utterly soundless and peaceful since we’ve begun to repair all this damage.

  He confessed to me early on that he didn’t sleep, sometimes spending countless hours working well into the night just to avoid it. I know the feeling, but now I’ve found myself falling asleep easily without the use of alcohol and sleeping without waking multiple times. A dreamless sleep, something I never thought I’d find again.

  I’m staring up at the ceiling when Benji rolls over and slings his arm across my stomach, letting his fingers run over my skin. Shivering from his touch, he pulls me into his body and I let out a sigh as I feel myself begin to relax against him. But no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget what needs to be done today. I shift in his arms, trying to relax completely.

  “What’s wrong?” Benji asks, pulling back slightly. I don’t mean for him to think I’m shying away from him or that his touch has upset me, but that’s exactly how it comes across.

  “Sorry,” I immediately apologize as I move closer to him. “We haven’t really talked about Tommy’s wife.”

  “Well, you told me she hates you, which I still don’t believe.” Benji shakes his head a little and just as I’m about to argue with him, he continues. “I told you before, she needs someone to blame. Maybe she’s in a better place now?”

  “She showed up at my office,” I say, realizing I’ve told him none of this. The memory of it has me as rattled as the day it happened. I was on the verge of falling apart at that point and her appearance practically pushed me over the edge.

  For years I had devoted so much time and energy into keeping up a front, not allowing anyone in to see what I was hiding and one visit from Samantha turned that all to shit. The façade I had in place crumbled, and what I tried to hide was now revealed to everyone.

  I remember calling after her in the lobby of the office building where I work, my voice loud, yet still shaky and weak as I practically chased her down. I couldn’t remember the last time I cried in public, but that day it was nearly impossible to act like I wasn’t.

  I take a deep breath. Benji has made this easier on me, but there are still things I’m not proud of. One of them being the fact that I basically stalked Samantha.

  “I was so upset already. It was the day after the anniversary of the accident when she showed up and I was trying so hard to hold it together. But as soon as she told me who she was, I fell apart.” I feel Benji’s arms hold me tighter, encouraging me to go on. “She was so spiteful. She thinks Tommy was in love with me. She thinks that’s why he killed himself.”

  “You can see how she would feel that way,” Benji rationalizes, but it only upsets me more.

  “It wasn’t like that,” I immediately defend, even though I know Benji knows that. I can feel angry tears sting my eyes and my throat begins to burn as I try to control myself.

  “I feel guilty enough,” I say, letting out a small sob with it. “I’m the reason he did this, Benji. I know that. But it’s not for the reason Samantha thinks.”

  “What are you talking about?” Benji says, his voice firm, almost angry. “No, Campbell. You will not blame yourself for this. Tommy made a very selfish choice, something we will probably never understand, but it is not your fault.”

  I want to move away from him. I hate the feeling of vulnerability that has taken control of my body. I can’t hold still and Benji won’t let go of me.

  “Campbell,” he says, and I close my eyes as the tears fall hard and fast. “Look at me,” he insists. “I wasn’t trying to say this was your fault. I’m sorry I said I coul
d understand why Samantha would feel that way. It was wrong and now I’ve upset you.”

  “I went to her house,” I admit, letting it all out now. “I needed answers and I wanted to tell her what happened, but I couldn’t. She was so angry with me and I didn’t even know what to say.”

  I’m crying and Benji runs his hand down my back trying to calm me. I sit up so I’m now looking at him, and he does the same. He brushes the tears off my cheeks as I watch him take a hard breath.

  “I’m sorry,” he says again. “But you can’t blame yourself for this, Campbell. You can’t blame yourself for any of it.”

  “I think a part of me always will,” I whisper. “If I had just found him. If I had tried harder…”

  “No…” Benji cuts me off as he shakes his head. “If we’re placing blame, Campbell, then we’re all to blame. We all made a poor choice. We were just kids and while that’s not an excuse, it is what it is. Of course we could’ve done things differently, but that’s why we’re doing what we’re doing now. We can only go forward from here.”

  I nod, although the guilt still pools heavy in my stomach and I finally admit to Benji part of the reason I ended up finding him. “I was afraid I was going to lose you too,” I blurt out, as I find myself crawling into his lap and burying my face in his neck. “I came to find you because I couldn’t bear to lose you, too.”

  “You never would’ve lost me, Campbell. I’ve always been yours and you will always be my light.”

  Several hours later, we’re parked in front of Samantha’s house and as much as I know this is something we need to do, I can’t make myself get out of the car.

  Benji looks over at me, his expression full of sympathy for what I’m feeling at the moment as he says, “I can do the talking. It’ll be okay.” He runs his thumb along my knuckles, our hands locked together. They’ve been this way since we left the house. There’s an energy I can feel between our connected hands, a nervousness we both share.