by Lauren Helms
I take a moment to reacquaint myself with the lobby. Ben lives in a high-rise that has a front desk, security, and a handful of other amenities most apartments don’t. I’ve never asked Ben how much he makes, but he’s got to make good money to be able to afford this place. There are large leather couches and a fireplace to one side, elevators to the back, and the front desk has two older gentlemen standing behind. They eye me, but I smile and pretend I’m not utterly exhausted and still slightly hungover.
I know I probably look like shit, but whatever. I look how I feel.
“Hi. My name is Kelly Spencer. I’m here to see Ben Ford.” I lean against the tall granite counter. The man smiles at me while he types in my name. I assume to see if I’m on the list.
“Looks like you are on the list, but Mr. Ford…” he trails off just as I hear a familiar voice.
“Kelly?” I turn my head toward the elevators and see Bernie, along with the rest of Ben’s teammates, waiting for the doors to open. All of them are laden with suitcases and backpacks. They’re clearly coming and not going.
“Hey, Bernie.” I wave, searching for Ben. He’s not with the group, but I recognize Dex, Simon, Link and his girlfriend, Ruby. Bernie waves the group on just as the elevator doors slide open. She rushes toward me.
“Hey, Ralph, she’s good. I’ll take her up.” She smiles at him and nods toward the elevator.
“Thank you,” I tell her, but she frowns.
“What are you doing here, Kelly?” I stumble a moment, unsure of why her question concerns me.
“Uh, to see Ben.”
Her eyes widen. “He’s not here in Chicago. He’s still in California.”
I come to a dead stop. “What do you mean in California?”
Pity. All I see is pity in her eyes, and my blood starts to boil.
“We’ve all been in LA for the past several days. We all just got back from dinner. But Ben decided to stay and visit you.” I drink in her words, and her mouth tightens. “So you’re here and he’s there. Oh. My. God.”
“Why wouldn’t he tell me? Call or text?” My words come out soft despite the raging anger threatening to take over.
“His phone was crushed. It’s unusable. He was going to get a new one today.” She pauses as the elevator door slides open. I look to it, then to her, wondering if I should just leave. I should just go back to the airport and catch a flight. I don’t know why, but I never booked a flight home. I didn’t know what to expect when I arrived in Chicago. But Bernie seems to have other plans for me. She walks a few steps toward me and grabs my hand. “Come on up. Let’s get this figured out,” she says, pulling me toward the elevator.
Stepping on after her, I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
“You haven’t heard from him?” she asks, like she’s trying to defuse a hostile situation.
“No, nothing.” I pull out my phone from my bag and realize it’s still shut off from the flight. I power it up, and as we step out of the elevator, I’m hit with a bunch of messages. Both texts and voicemails. I study the notifications on the lock screen.
Aubrey: What the hell, Kel? Call me!!!
Aubrey: Chance is making me play nice.
Ben: I can’t feel my ass anymore. Where are you?
Ben: I’ll wait on your step until I hear from you.
Aubrey: You won’t believe what the cat dragged in.
They continue, but I swipe open my phone and call Aubrey first. Bernie wanders deep into her apartment before flipping on the first light, illuminating the darkness. I follow her inside just as the call connects.
“Bout time, girlfriend,” Aubrey rushes.
I drop my bag by the front door and watch Bernie turn on lights and make her way into her apartment. “What’s going on? Ben is there?” I ask.
“Uh, yeah. He showed up like two hours ago.” She lowers her voice. “I don’t know what to do with him. He looks like a sad puppy. It’s making it hard for me to stay mad at him.”
I grunt and roll my eyes. Not about her feeling bad, but that he has the audacity to be sad. “He never told me he was in California. And how he’s there, and I’m here.”
“Ironic, yeah?” She huffs out a laugh. “Where are you?”
“I’m with Bernie, his friend. She lives in the same building.” Bernie points to the couch, and I wander through the small space and sit down.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Aubrey asks.
“I guess one of us needs to leave,” I mumble. I suck in the corner of my lip, thinking things through. “I’ll head back to the airport and get the next flight out.”
“Okay. So it’s gonna be a late night then,” she huffs.
“Just let him into my apartment, and I’ll text you when I’m home so you don’t have to worry. You also won’t have to deal with any of my drama.”
“Your drama is my drama. It’s not a big deal. I’m just still feeling last night. Maybe we should cool it on the rage drinking from now on.”
A laugh slips out and I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Agreed.”
I wait a beat. “So he’s there right now?”
“Yeah. Watching some game with Chance—who’s totally Team Ben by the way. I mean, he’s made it clear to me he’s always got your back, but don’t be surprised if he tries to build a case for Ben. Just fair warning.
I sigh. It doesn’t surprise me.
“Do you want to talk to him?” she whispers.
“Chance? No,” I absentmindedly reply.
A snort comes over the phone. “No, Ben. He’s staring me down right now.”
Do I want to talk to him?
Absofuckinglutly.
But, I won’t. I’m mad and need to time process what the heck just happened.
“I’ll let you guys know my flight info. See you later.” We say our goodbyes and then I use Bernie’s laptop to book my flight.
I got a hell of a deal on a last-minute flight, but what surprises me is that after walking me down to my waiting Uber, Bernie climbs in next to me.
“What are you doing?”
“Riding with you.” She shrugs as if I should expect nothing less. “Also, I wanted to talk to you. About Ben.”
Sighing, I buckle up. “Bernie, I don’t know what’s going on. I have to fly home first to figure it out.”
“I know, but since you have to wait a few more hours to get that explanation, I’m going to get involved. Because, well, I care about you both.”
I nod, letting her know I’m not going to stop her.
“Things get really, really busy for us this time of year.”
“Don’t make excuses,” I deadpan.
“I’m not.” Her pause is short. “Okay, I am. But I’ll stop.”
“I’m not asking him to visit me. To make time for me. I’m asking for him to return texts. Maybe a call or two. And for fuck’s sake, to tell me when he’s less than an hour drive away from where I live.”
It’s dark out, but the night lights still show all the sadness in her eyes when she looks at me and nods.
“I know.” Her voice soft.
“It’s that job, isn’t it? He had an offer, but he won’t share anything about it.” I turn toward her. I know it’s that job that mucked everything up between us. I just wish he would have been open with me about it.
“That’s something he has to explain. But I will say it’s been causing him a lot of heart and headache. The next step—leaving what you know—it’s a hard step to take.”
Without thinking, I snap at her, “Well, it’s something you normally talk to your significant other about. Instead, he shut me the fuck out.”
She shakes her head, but she surprises me again. “No, Kelly, I know. I agree with you. He didn’t handle it well, and I’m sorry for that.” Her agreement helps simmer my anger. Then she adds, “You might not know this, but Ben doesn’t like relying on other people. He’s not a loner, but he’s alone a lot. The team is important to him, and we consider him a friend, but he does
n’t easily let people in. He makes decisions on his own. He likes to make them before he lets anyone else know about them. It’s annoying as hell, but it’s who he is. He’s got some stuff he needs to work through, but don’t give up on him. Please.” Her voice is pleading.
I lean my head back onto the car seat and close my eyes. “I’m not sure if it’s a matter of giving up, or just facing the music. Long-distance relationships suck, and if one half of the couple isn’t able to remain open and honest, then, well…” I don’t finish the sentence.
We sit in silence for several minutes, then Bernie tries to make small talk. I appreciate her. And I tell her that as I pull her into an embrace when the Uber drops me off at the airport.
I find my way to the terminal and take a seat on one of the benches. This late at night, I’m surprised at how many are waiting to board along with me.
I huff, noting the time—it’s nearly nine. I want to curl up and sleep this freaking day away and not think about it again.
Knowing Ben’s at my place, I start to get antsy. While I wait to board, I pull out my phone and text him.
Me: How’s the ass?
Unlike over the past two weeks, his response is immediate.
Ben: Better.
Me: Good.
Ben: Aubrey hates me, but this goat is my new best friend.
Me: Pixy loves everyone.
Ben: Don’t take this away from me. I’ve never had a goat friend before.
I let a few moments go by before responding.
Me: What the hell happened, Ben?
Ben: I fucked up. I’m so sorry, baby.
He’s never called me baby before. I’m equally annoyed and relieved that he’s started now. But I leave it at a simple okay since it’s time for me to get on the plane. He’ll have plenty of time to explain and apologize in person—at, like, three in the morning when I arrive home. You bet your ass I’m not going to let this wait another second. We’ll figure this shit out once and for all.
17
Kelly
I’d be happy if I don’t see the inside of an airplane any time soon. I’m not a huge fan of flying, and doing it by myself, even less. The fact that I’ve been on a plane four times in three weeks sucks donkey balls and I’m over it. When the Uber drops me off in front of Aubrey and Chance’s house, it’s a little after one. It’s going to take me a hot minute to get my body back into the right time zone. Due to the three-hour time change, this day has definitely been the longest day of my life. And I’m nearly dead on my feet.
Standing on the sidewalk, I send Aubrey a quick text to let her know I’m home—as promised. When I glance at my apartment, I can tell there’s a light on. I take a deep breath, knowing he’s awake and we can’t wait to work through our shit until I’ve had a nap.
I ready myself with another deep breath and a small pep talk as I make my way to the stairs. I attempt to be quiet as I ascend the stairs, but they creak with every step.
I unlock my door and slowly open it. The light in the kitchen is on, but the rest of the room is dark. That’s when I see him—he’s stretched out on my couch. He doesn’t move, so he must be asleep. Why wouldn’t he sleep in my bed? I never made him sleep on the couch when he visited.
I gently close the door behind me, locking it before I drop my bag on the floor. I deposit my purse on the small table next to the door, dropping my keys there as well.
Do I wake him? I want to sleep so badly, but he’s here, in my space, and I don’t want to waste a minute of that time. I’m so angry with him, but my heart begs me to go to him. My fingers itch to touch him. My body is drawn to him. The only thing keeping me rooted in place is my brain telling me to wait. At least I can trust one part of myself.
I take him in. Jeans, signature black tee. He’s wearing a beanie, though, something I’ve not seen him wear before. He’s got the hat pulled down, possibly covering his eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest, his chin tucked in close. I can tell he started propped up in the corner, one leg stretched out across the couch, the other bent, foot planted on the floor. He still dons his black and white chucks.
I would love nothing more than to go to him, crawl over him, and snuggle into his side. Would he have me or would he want to talk instead? The battle between my heart and head comes to an end when my feet move toward the couch. I kneel on the floor and slowly reach for his beanie.
Lifting it up, I whisper, “Ben.”
His eyes blink open as he takes me in. He’s not startled. Then a lazy grin crosses his face, and the need to kiss him settles deep in my belly. I fight it, though. There will be no kissing until we figure things out.
“Kel.” His voice is hoarse. He clears it, shaking his head slightly.
“Hey.” I drop my hand from him as he sits up.
“What time is it?” he asks, his deep voice back to normal.
“Just after one.” Suddenly there isn’t much space between us, so I lean back on my haunches. He tugs off his beanie, and it takes everything in me not to gasp in surprise. His messy, thick, finger-tangling hair is gone.
“Your hair,” I murmur.
His hand comes up and scrubs over his new buzz cut. “Oh, yeah, I needed a change.” When he peers at me, his eyes are filled with worry. “Do you hate it?”
I cock my head and take him in. While I loved running my fingers through his hair, this new style suits him just as much as the pompadour did. It makes his bad boy vibe more pronounced.
“I do. I just wasn’t expecting it,” I tell him.
“Okay, good.” He gives me a shy smile—one I’ve never seen before.
Awkwardness takes over and it’s nearly excruciating. Never once when we’ve seen each other after weeks between visits—even before we started dating—was it this awkward. We always just picked up where we left off.
I huff and push up on my feet. Standing, I look down at him. “I’ve gotta change and brush my teeth.” I walk to my bag, snag it up, and carry it toward my room. I hear him get up from the couch, and he follows a safe distance behind. Tossing my bag on the bed, I pull out a pair of sleep shorts and a tank, a clean pair of undies, and my toiletry bag. He leans against the doorjamb, watching me. Under different circumstances, I’d just change right here in front of him. I’m not shy, but you can cut the tension between us with a butter knife. Besides, why should I treat him to a show? I’m pissed at him.
So, I grab my stuff and book it to my bathroom. He doesn’t say a word as I change and brush the day-old sweaters off my teeth. When I return to my room, he’s sitting on my bed, his shoes on the floor where I stood moments ago.
Making eye contact, he starts to open his mouth, but I beat him to the punch. “Why are you here, Ben?”
He looks taken aback by my question, but he recovers quickly. “To see you. To talk to you.”
“Yeah, well, you know we could have avoided this mishap if you would have communicated with me instead of ghosting me for two fucking weeks.” I cross my arms. While I planned to sit next to him, to talk it out like adults, I’m too pissed now and need to keep my distance.
“I’m so sorry, Kelly. I know I fucked up. I want to explain. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you can give me another chance to prove I’m not the asshole I’ve been acting like for the past two weeks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know, Ben. I guess, start talking and we’ll see where that gets us. You owe me one hell of an explanation.”
“I know I do, baby.”
Ugh, the name. “Don’t call me that,” I grit out, digging the back of my teeth into each other. His eyes sink, confusion at my words, so I add, “Don’t use sweet names at a time like this. It won’t get you anywhere other than pissing me off even more.”
He nods. “I’m sorry.”
I roll my eyes, wondering how many more times I’ll hear those two words tonight. “Go on, start explaining.” I wave my hand in front of me impatiently.
“I was offered a job. In New York. There’s a whole l
ist of pros and cons for both taking the job and not taking it. While it’s with a great company with potential to grow into what I’m looking for, it’s not a job I really want, and it takes me further away from you. It overwhelmed me.” His shoulders curl as he rubs his hand over his head. He huffs out a breath to clarify. “The decision, that is. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every waking moment, I was thinking about it. Every time I told myself I didn’t want to be any further away, I’d counter back with the thought that we were in such a new relationship, and I shouldn’t be this invested in it.”
The moment the words leave his mouth, a sharp stab of pain lances through my heart. If I weren’t leaning against the wall, arms already against my chest, I would have physically stumbled. Ben misses the moment, as he’s had a hard time keeping my eyes, so by the time he looks up at me, I’ve masked the pain.
“You and I did not have an easy start. And we’d only been a couple for a month or so before I applied for the job. I’m used to being on my own, Kelly, so the idea of having to think about someone else just didn’t register for me.”
“I’m not loving this explanation,” I mutter. But he keeps going.
“I shut you out because it made things easier. It was wrong, I get that. I hated it. I missed you so fucking much.” His eyes are pleading, but I don’t know what he expects from me. It’s not going to be forgiveness.
“You missed me, but shut me out. That makes sense,” I snap.
“Kelly, I know. It’s all so fucked up, and it’s hard to explain. When I told you I needed space, it was wrong. I just needed to figure out what to do. I was treading water, and I wasn’t making any headway. I was close to drowning.”
“You should have talked to me. That’s what I’m here for.” I realize at the moment, my tone is no longer laced with anger, but with sadness. “You actively chose not to confide in me.” I choke on the words.
