Bring Me Back

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “What does it look like?” He winks.

  He asks me this all the time. He wants to know what kind of dress I picked, but I refuse to tell him out of some sense of tradition.

  “I’m not telling.” I mock-glare at him with narrowed eyes and pursed lips.

  He chuckles. “It was worth a shot.” He rubs his hands on a napkin. “I actually got you something for your dress.” I must make a face because he laughs and says, “It’s nothing bad, Blaire.” He stands and walks over to his work bag. He returns with a small black box. “Open it.” He slides it across the table.

  I pick it up and twist it back and forth. I lift off the top and set it on the table. Inside is white tissue paper, further hiding the item from me. Whatever it is, it has to be small to fit in this box. I fold back the tissue paper and gasp. Inside is a pin, but not just any pin. It’s in the shape of a paper crane with glittering blue jewels.

  I look up at Ben and he smiles boyishly, his dimple flashing when he shrugs. “Something blue. It seemed fitting so I couldn’t pass it up.”

  “It’s beautiful.” I remove it from the box and hold it in my palm. It’s about half the size of my pinky and beautifully detailed. It had to have cost him a lot, but I don’t comment on that. “Thank you.” I set it inside the box and lean over to kiss him. He kisses me back, his hand resting on my cheek to hold me there a moment longer.

  “I understand if you don’t want to wear it on your dress,” he says when I slide away, “but I figured you could pin it inside and we’d both know it was there.”

  “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” I smile at him. I’m trying not to get choked up and cry all over my breakfast. I delicately wrap the pin up in the tissue paper and tuck it back in the box.

  I put my hand on his knee and lean over to kiss him. He smiles against my lips.

  “You really like it?” he asks.

  I nod and sit back. “I love it. I can’t believe you found something so perfect.”

  He shrugs.

  “Ben?” I urge, raising a brow.

  He rubs his chin and grins sheepishly. “I may have had it custom made.”

  “Ben,” I cry. “That must’ve cost a fortune.”

  “It was worth every penny,” he assures me. “No need to worry.”

  “You’re crazy,” I tell him.

  “Crazy in love.” He winks.

  I roll my eyes. “And cheesy.”

  “You love my cheese,” he counters.

  “I do,” I sigh, fighting a smile.

  “Pretty soon you’ll be saying that while I slide a ring across your finger.” He lifts the glass of orange juice casually to his lips.

  I shake my head. “Cheeseball,” I tease him again.

  He simply smiles and goes on eating his breakfast.

  We finish eating and wash the dishes side by side at the sink. He bumps his hip against mine, and when I look up, he lifts his hands from the soapy water and sprinkles the droplets all over me.

  My laughter rings through the kitchen. His much louder, deeper laughter soon joins mine. He wraps his arms around my waist, with my back to his chest, and spins me around.

  I lean my head against his shoulder and laugh until I cry.

  I love that I’ve found someone that makes me laugh this much. He goes out of his way to make every moment special. Every look. Every touch. I’m aware that Ben and I share a special love and bond—one not many people have. I’m not saying that other couples don’t love each other, but I think there are different kinds and ways of loving.

  Ben sits me down and I spin around to face him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. His tongue slides out and glides across his lips. He smiles crookedly.

  “What’cha lookin’ at darlin’?” He feigns a thick—and truly appalling—southern accent.

  “That dent in your face.” I surprise him by poking his dimple.

  He throws his head back and laughs. Tipping his head down, his blue eyes shimmer with mischief. “I happen to know for a fact that you love that so-called dent.”

  “And how do you know that?” I raise one brow when I step back and cock my hip.

  He leans against the counter casually. “Not only have you told me on numerous occasions, but you also frequently mumble about it in your sleep.” He crosses his hands together and lays his head on them, pretending to be asleep. “Oh, Ben, your dimples are so cute. I just want to lick them,” he says in a thick voice.

  I swat at his arm. “I do not.”

  He laughs and straightens. “You don’t but I wouldn’t mind if you boasted about me in your sleep.” He winks.

  I shake my head. “Silly boy.”

  He pinches my ass. “Man, B. All man.”

  I skitter out of the kitchen and he laughs behind me. “You’re cleaning up on your own now.”

  “Not a punishment,” he yells back.

  I pad into the bedroom and take a shower. I don’t take long, and when I’m done I apply some makeup and part the front part of my hair—braiding a section of it and pulling it back into a bun.

  With my robe secured around me, I step into the closet and flick on the light, searching the racks. I settle on a pair of black jeans, a short-sleeve black shirt that dips low with several cutouts, and since it’s chilly out, I top it with a black leather jacket. I try to mix up my wardrobe, but I have to admit that most of the things I own are black. It’s my go-to.

  When I enter the bedroom, Ben is just coming back in.

  “I’m going to see if I can get some more sleep,” he says with a yawn.

  I nod. “Good idea.” I grab my phone off the table and see a text from Casey. Ben is slipping beneath the sheets when I say, “Hey, Casey wants us all to meet up for lunch at the café. You wanna go?”

  He yawns again. “I can do that. I don’t go back into work until tomorrow night.”

  “Please tell me you have a shorter shift?” I ask him.

  He nods. “It’s twelve-hours.”

  “Better than twenty-four,” I mumble. I understand the need for such long shifts, but it really sucks and I hate the toll it puts on him. “Have a good nap.”

  I ease out of the room and close the door—not before I see Winnie jump on the bed beside Ben and snuggle close. She’s such a whore.

  I busy myself with cleaning the house and work. Always work. I’m not complaining, though. A year ago I would’ve never imagined I’d have so much interest in my little planning business. Especially in such a small town. But word gets out and that’s been my best ally. It’s not like I have a lot of money to spend on marketing.

  Ben comes downstairs a few hours later. His blond hair is ruffled around his head and he’s still shirtless. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to kill me—only so he can restart my heart.

  “How was your nap?” I ask him, turning down the volume on the TV.

  “Good,” he says and opens the refrigerator door, bending to grab a bottle of water. “What time are we meeting them for lunch?”

  I push the round button on my phone so it lights up. “We have an hour.”

  He finishes his sip of water and lowers the bottle. “You know what we could do in an hour?” He waggles his brows.

  I roll my eyes. “I think I have an idea.”

  He sets his bottle of water on the counter and runs over, jumping into the air to make it over the back of the couch.

  “Ben.” I laugh when he practically lands on top of me.

  He rights himself and drapes an arm over the back of the couch. “Blaire,” he says with the same infliction I used for his name. He leans over and kisses me. I’m slow to return the gesture, but he soon coaxes one from me.

  My hand rests on his shoulder and I duck my head. His lips move to my forehead. “Blaire?” He questions, his hands sliding up my back. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m scared.”

  He knows immediately what I’m talking about. “It’s only two tests Blaire. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “We have sex all th
e time,” I counter. “With that much sex it seems unlikely that we wouldn’t get pregnant.”

  He chuckles and takes my face between his large hands. “True,” he agrees, “but we’re also both stressed with our jobs and stress is known to affect fertility, and now you’re stressing about this…” he trails off, letting me fill in the blanks.

  I take a deep breath. He’s right. He’s always right. But it doesn’t dissuade the nagging thoughts in my mind.

  “You’re overthinking this, B.” He taps my forehead and blinks earnest blue eyes at me. “I’m a doctor, remember?” He cracks a smile, and when I laugh, he continues, “If I really thought something was wrong I’d tell you. I know on TV shows and movies, and even those romance books you love to read, men look at women and boom they’re pregnant.” He snaps his fingers for emphasis. “But that’s not the real world, babe.”

  I nod and he cradles the back of my neck. I cuddle into his side and tuck my head into the crook of his neck. He rubs his fingers through my hair, murmuring sweet words under his breath until he has to get up and get ready.

  He drives us over to the café and the other girls are already there.

  Casey waves us over from the regular table—as if we didn’t know which one it was already. Hannah and Chloe sit on one side of the table with Casey at the head of one end. Ben takes the other head, his usual spot, and I sit beside him.

  “What do you want to eat?” he asks me.

  I eye him.

  He sighs. “Of course. I’ll be right back. Nice to see you, ladies.” He nods his head at the girls before heading over to the counter.

  Chloe sighs dreamily and leans forward, propping her head in her hand and biting her lip. “Would you look at the way his jeans hug his ass? Mmm.”

  “Hey, he’s practically my husband,” I scold her.

  “I know, but you did good, girl. Man, I wish he had a single brother. If only dreams came true.”

  “You’re a mess. You’ll find someone when the time is right.” I wrinkle my nose. “On that note, you need to start dating the right guys. Stop going for the bad boys.”

  “But they’re so delicious in their dark jeans, sunglasses, and leather jackets. It’s even better when they have tattoos and spank me.”

  I snort.

  “Who’s getting spanked?”

  Chloe lets out a squeak at the sound of Ben’s voice.

  “Apparently Chloe,” Casey says with a smile, twisting a piece of blond hair around her finger.

  “I hate you guys,” Chloe pouts.

  Ben slides my sandwich and coffee over and sits down with his own.

  I take a bite and it’s like heaven in my mouth.

  “I don’t know why you’d hate us,” Hannah chimes in. “No one made you say it.”

  Chloe purses her lips and mutters, “Well … ”

  Casey laughs and brushes crumbs from her muffin off the table. “So the wedding’s soon, are you getting cold feet?” Casey asks Ben.

  “Casey,” I hiss. “Why would you say something like that?”

  She shrugs and flips her hair over her shoulder. Wrapping her hand around her mug of coffee she says, “You’re overreacting, Blaire. It’s just a saying.”

  Ben places his hand on my knee in an effort to calm me, and the gesture does help a little. I’m sure I’m being a little testy what with the baby thing, work, and a wedding.

  “No, no cold feet here.” Ben smiles. “My feet are nice and warm.”

  Casey gives me a look as if to say: See, it was an innocent question.

  Casey’s been my best friend for a long time, and we’ve never fought over a guy, but lately little comments she makes have me wondering if she has feelings for Ben. I know she’s dating James, but I don’t see that making it much longer, and I do know she had a brief crush on Ben when we were in high school. Regardless, I can’t see her doing anything to sabotage my happiness but … but, you never know.

  “How’s work?” Ben asks Casey, leaning back in his chair.

  She makes a face. “Same old, same old. I used to love law, but lately I want to throw a book at everyone I work with. They’re all a bunch of idiots.” Her voice spikes with irritation. “Even the old people that have been at the firm forever go around asking the dumbest questions. Sometimes I want to say to them, ‘I’m not the adult, you are. Get it together.’ But then I realize I am an adult and I’d probably get fired if I said that.” She takes a deep breath after her long-winded rambling.

  “Whoa,” Ben says, holding his cup of coffee midway in the air. “That’s intense.”

  “I should probably find another firm to work at, but they’re really all the same.” Casey makes a face like she tasted something sour. “Anyway,” she lays her hands flat on the wood of the table, “let’s talk about you guys. Any of you,” she adds, desperate to get the attention off her.

  “I’m moving,” Hannah says.

  We all grow quiet and stare at her. “Um, what?” I’m the first to speak.

  “Not away,” she clarifies. “But, man, thanks to the look on your faces I know I’d be missed if I did. Anyway—” she waves a hand dismissively “—I’m moving into a new apartment. The lease on mine is up and I can’t take the roaches and rat poop anymore so I’m out of there.”

  “It was that bad?” Chloe asks, completely appalled.

  “Yep.” Hannah lifts her napkin and begins to break it apart. “It sucks.”

  “Now I understand why you’ve never invited us over,” I add.

  She nods. “The new place is really nice. It’s a studio apartment, so it’s small, but clean. It has exposed brick walls which I thought was cool.”

  “Do you need help moving?” Ben asks her.

  “God, yes. Would you help?” she begs. “I really don’t want to have to pay someone to help me. My brother already said he’d help, so another set of hands would be great.”

  Ben nods. “Sounds good. I’ll let you know what my schedule at the hospital looks like and you can let me know what day works for you.”

  We finish eating and chat for a little while longer before heading out.

  Ben takes my hand on the way to the car. “Want to go shopping?” he asks me, and I shake my head. “Movies?” Another shake. He laughs. “What do you want to do then?”

  “Just go home, I guess.” I shrug. “We can watch a movie there and resume your conversation from earlier.”

  “Conversation?” His brows wrinkle in confusion. I wink and it’s all the answer he needs. “I like your idea.” He opens the passenger door and offers me his hand as I get in. He’s a gentleman, for sure. I tell him often that his momma raised him right.

  We head home and pick out a movie to watch, getting cozy on the couch. I know I should’ve probably taken him up on his offer to go shopping, but I’d rather be here, in our home, with him.

  I lay my head on his lap and he brushes his fingers through my hair. It’s soothing, and I’m tempted to fall asleep, but I don’t. It’s not about missing the movie—it’s this I don’t want to miss. Life itself. I’m scared of blinking my eyes and finding these little moments seldom happening. We’re both bound to get even busier with work, and throw in a baby …

  It doesn’t matter, though. None of it. This is where I’m happiest. Right here with Ben and I hope that love and happiness never ever fades.

  I lie sated in bed while Ben gets ready to go off to work. I’m not going to lie, we definitely took advantage of last night and today since his shift doesn’t start until eleven PM.

  He steps out of the closet in his scrubs with a heavy gray coat over top. “Behave yourself.” He winks at me when he sits down in the chair to lace up his white tennis shoes.

  “No promises when I have this big bed all to myself.” I rub my hand over the sheets.

  He groans. “I have to go and you’re not helping.”

  I smile slowly. “Stay.”

  “I wish life worked like that.” He shrugs and stands. “Alas, I must get to work.”


  I snort and clutch the sheet tighter to my chest. “Who says alas?”

  “Me, I guess.” He grins, and there are those dimples I love. He walks over to me and bends, kissing my forehead and then lips. I hold his smooth cheeks in my hands, drawing out the kiss.

  At last, he pulls away. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “I know.” I sigh as he heads for the door. “Bye. I love you.”

  He pauses and looks back at me. His eyes peruse my body and he dips his head in acknowledgment. “I love you too.”

  I listen to the heavy fall of his feet on the steps and close my eyes. It’s late, but I’m not really sleepy.

  I hear the front door open and the alarm dings before it can close.

  Winnie comes wandering into the bedroom and gives me a scathing look, like I personally sent Ben away.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I mumble at her. She merely swishes her tail and jumps up in the window to watch Ben back out of the driveway.

  I unwrap the sheets from my body and pull on my robe, standing by the window with her. Ben happens to look up and sees me. He grins and waves. I wave back, pressing my hand to the window.

  When his taillights disappear around the corner I head to the bathroom to take a bubble bath. My muscles need it after the day I’ve had. I add a heaping pile of bubbles and salt then light a few candles and turn on some soft music.

  I dim the lights in the bathroom and tie my hair up. Letting the robe fall, I step into the warm water. Almost instantly I begin to feel my muscles loosen. I lean back in the water and rest my head on the back of the bathtub. There are so many bubbles that I can’t see anything, and that’s just the way I like it. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

  When the water begins to feel cold I step out of the water and dry my body. I change into a pair of pajamas and climb into bed. I open the drawer to my nightstand to grab the remote, but I smile when instead I find a paper crane.

  I open it slowly, like it’s a precious treasure—which I guess to me, it is.

  My smile grows at his messily scrawled words.

  No amount of time will be enough with you. Not a minute. Not an hour. Not a decade. Not a century. But I promise to make all of our time count. I may not tell you I love you every minute of every day, but I try to show you—because true love has to be felt not heard. And our love, B? It’s my favorite feeling. Here’s to tomorrow, and the next day, and the one after that—and all the love that’s shared in between.