They walked in and found his family and Natasha’s all present and talking in the living room. “She’s in the kitchen. We’ve been forbidden from entering,” David said when Ben asked where his mom was.
“Yeah, me and my mom tried to help and got everyone kicked out,” Renee added.
Ben laughed. That sounded about right. Everyone was mingling, and Ben found himself trapped in a conversation with Natasha’s dad about the benefits of do-it-yourself home projects versus taking the easy way out and paying someone to do it. He looked over the crowd and saw Ryan laughing at something Renee had said. He couldn’t help smiling at the sight. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder and whirled around to see Natasha.
“Can we talk?”
“Uh, yeah.” Ben looked around the room for David but didn’t see him anywhere. “Sure.”
Natasha led him out of the living room and to the opposite side of the foyer where their formal sitting room was. Once there, she turned and clasped her hands in front of her.
Ben stuffed his hands into his pockets and waited for her to say what she had to say. It was odd, being alone with her. Odd to think that there was a time when they’d been inseparable. Now being near her was completely foreign to him. And odder still that he didn’t miss how it had been between them. He never really had. Ben assumed that everyone in his family thought he’d been pining over her all these years—that that was the reason he couldn’t let the feud with David go. But it hadn’t been about losing Natasha. A semester apart at college had let Ben see how tenuous their bond was, and he’d had doubts that their relationship would last the year anyway. It had been David’s betrayal—not hers—that had stung. She was simply a secondary character in the drama that was Ben and David’s story.
Natasha was composed, but Ben could see her nerves in the tightness of her shoulders and the rigidness of her limbs. Things he looked for because of how well he once knew her. “I’m sorry for dragging you away from the party, I just wanted . . . I thought we should . . . gah, why is this so difficult?” She let out a small laugh and Ben joined her in it.
“Say whatever you need to, Natasha,” he said softly in an attempt to make her feel more comfortable.
“David is a good man.”
Ben nodded slowly, trying to figure out what that had to do with anything.
“But he’s also stubborn as hell,” she added.
Ben snorted. “Probably an understatement. Though that’s a trait that seems to run in the family.”
“Yeah, I guess it does,” she said with a smile. Then she sobered. “He misses you.”
Ben let his eyes drift down the floor. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Was that something David had actually said or something she’d figured out for herself?
She resumed speaking before he had a chance to ask. “These last few days, with the two of you speaking and hanging out like you can actually stand each other, have been the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time. Not that he’s usually unhappy, but he’s been freer with himself, more outgoing.”
“He did just marry the love of his life,” Ben said. “I’m pretty sure that’s a good reason to be happy.”
“It is. And that is one reason he’s been so lighthearted. It’s just . . . Come on, Ben. He’s your brother. I know you know what I mean.”
Did he? There were times when David felt like a virtual stranger to him. But then there were others when he looked at his brother and felt like they were still kids playing pirates in their tree house. “If I made him happy, then I’m glad for it. I don’t know that it has to do with me as much as you’re saying it does, but I’m thankful that we’ve managed to get along over the past few days, and I’m hoping we can keep it moving in a good direction.”
Natasha smiled. “I hope so too. He was thrilled when you agreed to be his best man.”
Now that, Ben didn’t believe. “Thrilled? I don’t know about all that. I got the impression he only asked because Mom made him.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What gave you that impression?”
Ben shrugged. He wasn’t sure if anyone had given him that impression now that he thought about it. “I guess I assumed.”
“Well, you assumed wrong. He always wanted it to be you, but he was worried you’d say no.” Natasha’s voice was calm, but had a little more steel in it than it previously had.
“He clearly had nothing to worry about.”
Natasha looked at him for a while before speaking. “We’re both sorry, you know? Not that it happened, because”—she spread her arms out before letting them flop down to her sides—“here we are. But we’re sorry for the way it happened.”
“I know. I’m sorry too.”
“Maybe you could say those words to him. It would make a great wedding present,” she said with a sly smirk.
Ben laughed. Why was everyone putting it on him to apologize? “I already gave you guys a gift.”
“Yeah, you did.” The heartfelt tone with which she spoke made Ben feel like she wasn’t referring to the check he’d written them. “Like I said, David’s stubborn. He feels the words, but can’t bring himself to say them.”
“What makes you think I can?”
“Because you do what needs to be done. You always have.”
Ben wasn’t sure how true those words were, but he appreciated them all the same. “I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I ask,” she said. The next thing he knew, she was in his space hugging him, and it felt even more awkward than the talking had. But he returned the embrace, knowing this was a peace offering he needed to accept.
“Am I interrupting something?”
Ben and Natasha flew apart because David’s voice had startled them, but Ben could understand how that reaction could have been interpreted.
“Hey, hon,” Natasha said as she walked over to David and put an arm around him. “We were just clearing the air.”
David remained stiff as he glared at Ben and hummed in response.
Is this asshole serious right now? “Why are you staring at me like that?” Ben nearly growled the words. Here he’d been ready to apologize and move past their issues with this jackass, only to have David stare him down for hugging Natasha. The guy was a lost fucking cause.
“No reason,” David replied. He started to move like he was going to leave the room, but Ben wasn’t having that shit. If everyone wanted them to talk, they could do it right fucking there.
“Oh, there’s definitely a reason, and I want to hear you say it.”
“You’re the one who can’t keep your hands to yourself. So you’re better off letting it drop, Ben,” David said fiercely.
“No. I’m done with walking on eggshells around you people. You have something to say, be a man and say it.”
David scoffed. “‘You people’? You mean your family? And you don’t have to worry about me being man enough. You’re the one who gets his feelings hurt and then runs away.”
Ben and David had been moving closer toward one another, but with David’s final words, Ben stepped directly in front of him. “I’m not running now.”
“Not yet you’re not. But you will be as soon as we’re done here. You’ll hop in your rental, drive you and that girl you brought with you to the airport, and we won’t see you again for who knows how long.”
David’s referring to Ryan as “that girl” made Ben feel a swirl of violent emotions he was barely able to keep in check. Not wanting David to see how close he was to losing control, Ben fell back on sarcasm. “Aw, miss me when I’m gone, David? That’s sweet.”
“Miss you? I forget you even exist.”
Ben was vaguely aware of his mom yelling at them to stop, of Natasha trying to pull David away, of the audience that had gathered around them. But they were all peripheral. David had Ben’s entire focus. “Then why do you care so much about me not being around?”
David remained silent so Ben forged on. “You want to know why I think you care? Because you can’t handle th
at someone isn’t impressed by your bullshit. Everyone’s all ‘David this’ and ‘David that,’ except me. I don’t give a shit how many degrees you have or what schools you went to. Your little brother, the person who should be hardwired to admire you, couldn’t give a fuck less. And it kills you.”
David gritted his jaw so hard the veins in his neck began to bulge. “Careful, Ben, your insecurity is showing.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You can say you don’t give a shit all you want, but it’s all bull. You’ve been trying to escape my shadow since birth.” David’s head turned until his gaze landed on Ryan before he refocused on Ben. “From the looks of things, you’re still trying.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Ben was in David’s face, barely an inch separating them.
“Come on, Ben. You bring this girl home and act like you’re all in love with her so we’ll think you’ve moved on. But facts are facts. Natasha will always be the one who got away. And it kills you that I have her and you don’t. I only hope you were honest with Ryan about why she’s here. Just because you’re heartbroken doesn’t mean you have the right to do it to someone else.”
“You think I’m heartbroken over her?” Ben pointed at Natasha. “Nah, man. That honor goes to you. You broke my heart.” The words poured out of him—true words, but ones laced with the kind of venom that’s only possible during moments of profound rage. Ben felt his voice rising, his fists balling, tension coiling. It was similar to what he’d felt when he’d hit David all those years ago, but somehow more. The years had allowed the wound to fester and now Ben’s only recourse was to sever the limb. “But since you love to be right, here’s something you can hang onto: I did bring Ryan here to make you all think I’ve moved on. That I was over the pain that you caused.” Ben stared David down as his pulse roared in his ears. Everything in the room disappeared. All that was left was Ben, David, and a searing pain that manifested as anger that Ben couldn’t rein in. “How does that feel? To know I hired an escort to come with me to your wedding because I didn’t want anyone to know how hurt I am every time I see you and you don’t want anything to do with me?”
The two men fell silent then, the anger still there, but dissipating the more Ben’s words settled in. And as Ben thought back over what he’d just let out, panic overtook all his other emotions. He snapped his head up to look at Ryan, and what he saw made him feel worse than his brother ever had.
* * *
Ryan couldn’t do anything but stand there. She felt the eyes on her, but the shock that was coursing through her didn’t let her focus on that. Had Ben announced that she was an escort? To everyone?
She tried desperately to corral her thoughts, which only let embarrassment start to fray the edges of her stunned psyche. That and anger. And hurt. All the feelings were starting to cascade in, and Ryan wasn’t sure how to handle them all without breaking into a million pieces. Which she refused to do in front of these people—especially Ben.
Fuck him, and his “we need to talk about us” bullshit. If this was the kind of talking he’d had in mind, she wished he’d warned her so she could’ve sat this gathering out. Rationally, she knew that these people knowing he’d hired her made no difference in her life. It was Ben who’d royally fucked himself over by admitting that. But her brain wasn’t operating in a logical capacity. Because the reality was, she’d really liked Ben’s family, and they’d seemed to like her too. She’d hoped—even though she should have known better—that maybe she and Ben would visit again sometime.
She and Ben.
There was no she and Ben. Because the man who’d come to mean so much to her had told his entire family she was an escort. He’d used that information to hurt his brother without any regard for how it might hurt her. It was inconsequential to her that she was, as far as Ben was concerned, an escort. He’d never made her feel like one until this moment. Even when they’d been talking about payment plans and backstories, Ryan had never felt as irrelevant to Ben’s life as she did now. She was willingly used as collateral damage, and it . . . was fucking devastating.
Ben’s eyes locked with hers, and she could see the realization of what he’d said dawn on him. Whether the fear in his eyes was because he’d outed himself to his family or because he’d outed Ryan to them didn’t really matter to her. What was done was done. She broke eye contact with him, murmured an “Excuse me,” and bolted like she’d wished she’d done as soon as Ben had hit her with that door—especially since this was by far the bigger slap in the face.
Ryan heard a “Ben, go after her” from behind her as she hurried toward the door. She thought his mother had said it, but she couldn’t be sure. Her ears were too busy ringing with the force she was exerting to hold back her tears.
She’d made it to the driveway before she heard Ben call her name. She ignored him as she made her way to the rental car.
He caught up to her right as she reached it. “Ryan,” he breathed.
She turned toward him and held out her hand. “Keys.”
“What?” he asked, looking flustered.
“Give me the keys, Ben.”
“No, let me . . . let me take you back. We can talk and—”
“I have nothing to say to you. And I’m sure as hell not getting in a car with you.”
“Ryan, please let me explain.”
“You have. I got the message pretty clearly inside. Seems like everyone else did too. It was quite a show.”
Ben ran a hand over his head. “I didn’t mean to say that. It just came out. I was angry, and—”
“Jesus Christ, Ben! Stop. You’re not an eighteen-year-old kid anymore. You can’t use your anger as an excuse for saying shitty things. Besides, it’s not like you didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Ryan shrugged. “They know the truth about me, and I know where I stand with you. It was for the best.”
“That’s not . . . that’s not where you stand with me. You’re more than that.”
Ryan laughed humorlessly. “No, I’m not. I’m not even that actually. All I am is an out-of-work waitress who was desperate enough to let some guy think she was an escort.”
The startled look on Ben’s face would’ve been comical if it wasn’t for the fact that Ryan was pretty sure she’d never laugh for real ever again. “Wait, you’re not an escort?”
“Well, I mean, I guess I am now. Thanks for that resume builder, by the way. But before I met you? No. I was just some girl trying to figure out how she was going to make ends meet after I quit waitressing at a crappy strip club. And then you barged into my life and offered me a better alternative. So I took it.” Ryan had managed to keep her emotions in check, but time was running out on that. “But now it’s over. So give me the keys.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Ben pulled the keys out of his pocket, but he toyed with them instead of handing them over. “I don’t want it to be over,” he said softly.
“Well, it really doesn’t matter what you want. There’s no coming back from that. We both know it.”
“I don’t know that.”
She sighed. “Then I guess you never really knew me at all.” She held her hand out, and after a few beats, he placed the keys in it. Ryan didn’t hesitate. Pulling open the door, she settled in the seat and moved to close the door behind her, but Ben’s hand on the door stopped it.
“I still owe you. For coming.”
Ryan stared at the check that he held out to her in his other hand as if he were trying to give her a rattlesnake.
“I wrote it before we left the hotel because I thought I’d give it to you, and then . . .” Ben let his voice drift off with a shake of his head. “I guess it doesn’t matter what I thought.” He thrust the check toward her, and she gingerly took it from him. “I’ll call the airport and have a ticket back to Philadelphia waiting for you.”
She nodded, the sting in her eyes making it difficult to speak. “Thanks,” was all she managed before she pulled the door out of h
is grasp and closed it. She turned the key in the ignition, backed out of the driveway, and drove away from the life she’d never have even though she’d foolishly let herself want it anyway.
The trip to the hotel was a blur, and she was thankful that they’d gone back and forth to Ben’s parents’ numerous times and that it was fairly straightforward so that her body was able to make the drive on autopilot. Once in the room, she grabbed the things she had in the bathroom and lying around and threw them into her suitcase. When she was done, she took a moment to look around. She gave the memories they’d made in the room a moment to overtake her before she started the painful process of trying to move on from them.
Going to Connecticut and meeting Ben’s family, spending time with them and Ben had been some of the best experiences in her life. It hadn’t felt like a job, and Ryan wished she could keep it that way. She slipped her hand into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out the check Ben had given her. As she walked past the bed, she dropped the check onto it. She couldn’t let Ben buy the past few days, nor the time she’d lived with him. It wasn’t for sale.
Ryan walked out of the room and made her way down the hall and out of the hotel, where she hailed a cab that took her to the airport. The ticket was waiting for her, as promised. It was a first-class ticket, because of course it was—Ben wouldn’t have let it be any other way. And as she sat by the window and looked out at nothing in particular, she heard the pilot come on and say they expected to land at around five p.m. Ryan was suddenly struck with the fact that she had no idea where the hell she was going from there. But she did know that it wouldn’t be as good as where she’d been.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ben opened his eyes, squinting and putting an arm up to block the sun’s rays. When he’d closed them God knows how long ago, the sky had been overcast, allowing him to watch the clouds as they passed overhead. But now the brightness of the surrounding world seemed too much to handle, as if the sun brought light to so many things Ben would rather have kept hidden in the shadows.
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