Missing Grace

by S. L. Scott

  Clicking to the next photo, he stared at the picture of the two of them on her twenty-first birthday. He towered over her by then. Caught on camera looking at each other and laughing, living in the moment—he loved this photo too. It could be said, he loved every photo he had of her and had memorized every detail. The evening drifted away as he got lost in a life that had become his past. His torture.

  “Benjamin?” Rebecca’s voice came from behind.

  Quickly hitting the escape button, he tried to cover what he was doing. As casually as he could, he responded, “Hey there.”

  He smiled while walking over to her, hoping to redirect her attention from the computer screen. He didn’t like worrying her and could tell by her tone she was. She deserved so much better than him. Despite his gratefulness, he wasn’t sure why she stayed with him. He could only ever give her half the man he was. She had more access to his apartment than to his heart. The key to the apartment was a consolation prize, a distraction to a conversation she wanted to have about his real feelings, a drunken discussion that had become sexual. He’d thought he was ready for something physical, ready for a connection with someone again. He hadn’t been and the key to his place was offered. The key to his heart would forever remain locked, as half his soul was missing with Grace.

  Reaching up, she rubbed his shoulders, easing the tension collected in his muscles. “Are you all right? You had me worried earlier.” Her eyes flickered to the desk where the computer was. “And now.” Concern coated each word.

  Months ago, he had reassured her that he had stopped looking at those photos, and had promised to put more effort into their relationship. He thought they had made progress as a couple, but something inside him never allowed him to stop looking, to stop thinking about his missing fiancée. He couldn’t let Grace go. He knew Rebecca would be disappointed and hurt, catching him doing this again, so he tried to cover his actions by pulling her into a hug. “I’m good. Are you off for the night?”

  “Yes,” she replied dubiously.

  From her one-word answer, he knew she was mad. After a sweet kiss to the cheek, he tried to sway her mood. “You want to grab something to eat?”

  “Sure.” The word was tainted in uncertainty, maybe more in disbelief.

  He had to be better. Ben had to try harder. “I’ll just change out of my work clothes.” He walked into the bedroom and closed the door. Leaning against it, he closed his eyes and vowed to end this insanity.

  Once and for all.

  3

  Ben Edwards

  In silence, Ben sat in the waiting room of Chicago Memorial. He’d been there so often during the last three years that the staff knew him by name. Sometimes they even sat with him while he studied the notes he had taken each visit, updating them meticulously.

  Ben hired a private investigator the first week of his search, but nothing in the following days was uncovered except what he already knew. He was well aware that the first days someone went missing were the most crucial for evidence if they’re going to be successful in finding them. Ben found himself in a heated argument with the PI, tired of hearing the same reoccurring theme about their situation. There was nothing normal about this. Maybe other couples went to such extremes to start a new life, but his heart knew that he and Grace were unique in their love for one another.

  Jennifer Foster had been the nurse he talked to the first time he came here, handing her a flyer with Grace’s information on it. She was nice that first day and every day after . . .

  As he walked into Chicago Memorial, the last hospital on his list for the day, he could feel hope evaporating from his body like steam into the air. It was slow, but constant. The nurses and clerks were usually as helpful as they could be. Some posted the flyers in their lounges or passed them from nurse to nurse and from one department to the next, but no one had any information.

  “Hi, I’m sorry to bother you again. I doubt you remember me, but—”

  She looked up from the large stack of files in front of her. “I remember. You were looking for your fiancée.” Her voice was sympathetic as she spoke and Ben could see the sadness creep into her eyes. It must have been his body language or something in his eyes that told her Grace had not been found because she added, “I’m sorry.” She didn’t need to say it, but it was nice to hear.

  “Thank you. I was wondering if you knew if the picture had been shared. I feel it’s a numbers game. Someone in this city has to know what happened to her.” He could hear the desperation in his voice and knew she could too.

  She leaned forward and whispered as if she was sharing a secret, “I made colored copies to help them stand out and posted them in all the staff lounges except the doctors. But, I asked a doctor to do that.”

  Her kindness warmed him. If only it could bring Grace back. “You did that?”

  She glanced down at her paperwork once again but left it and walked around the desk closer to him. She kept her voice lowered and said, “I did it because I can see how much you love her.” The nurse rested her hand on his arm and tried to comfort him in some small way. “I hope it helps. I hope you find her.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ben had never wanted to move away from where they grew up. Grace hadn’t either, but here he was living in Chicago as if it had become his home. Home? It wasn’t home. It was a building that housed him. His home was Grace. He’d quit his job in Seattle and stayed in Chicago. In his mind, there was no point in going back to their apartment. Without knowing what happened, if she was dead or alive. He couldn’t face the emptiness that awaited him there. He couldn’t go back without her. He couldn’t give up. When a job opening came up in Chicago, he transferred and settled. Settling seemed to fit in more ways than just his location.

  He bought the basics and nothing more. Ben rejected the idea of building another life. He couldn’t even remember what life was without Grace in it. They were ten when they first became friends. They were fourteen when they shared their first kiss. They were sixteen when they showed each other how much they truly loved one another. They were kids, lovers, partners, fiancés and each other’s future. They were life to each other. They’d been Ben and Grace for years. But now, he didn’t know what they were. Ben didn’t know who he was.

  Outwardly, he had moved on. Inwardly, he was still in love with the dream life he’d once had. He was functioning, barely. Like an alcoholic, the search for Grace became an addiction, as he couldn’t believe she could be gone forever. He didn’t bother decorating an apartment. Why would he? It was meant to be temporary. Every spare minute that wasn’t dedicated to work, eating, or sleeping he spent searching for his love. And sometimes when he should have been sleeping, he used that time scouring online resources. He was a soulless and heartless man without her. He felt like a hostage in his own body. The best parts of him disappeared with her, and he never felt right after that, trapped with his memories.

  Jennifer brought Ben coffee and asked, “How are you?”

  He shrugged, not wanting to tell her how he really felt. He didn’t have to. She knew. “Don’t lose hope.” Patting him on the arm, she got up, and went back to her station. He sat there slumped in the seat. He knew he’d be back in another two months, just in case a Jane Doe or Grace Stevens was brought in for something.

  During the shift change, he went home.

  * * *

  Two nights later, Ben stood in front of Rebecca’s door and pushed the bell. It opened wide, and she tilted her head. “You have a key, Benjamin. You can come in, you know. Treat it like your own hom—” She caught herself before she finished the word. Glancing to him, her wide eyes gave her away, and she said, “Sorry.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Ben replied, feeling terrible that he made her feel bad over one word. It was a word that stabbed his heart anytime he heard it, and unfortunately, she had learned not to use it around him. This was her special night, and he wanted to see the happiness back in her eyes that was there when she opened the door. �
��You look very pretty, Dr. Bauer.”

  Her sadness morphed into joy again. How did Rebecca care so much for him? He should feel lucky. He wanted her to be happy. Not guarded. “You look very dashing yourself, Mr. Edwards.” She straightened his tie.

  He liked wearing his tuxedo because he didn’t get to wear it much. It felt special and made him feel confident, a little like his old self. He offered her an escort elbow. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  * * *

  Rebecca won her category and gave a thoughtful and sophisticated speech. Ben proudly watched her at the podium as she accepted her award in front of a ballroom of prestigious doctors and their dates, and spoke so passionately about her profession. “ . . . Serving this community has been humbling. To be recognized by my peers and superiors, a true honor. Thank you . . .” Many high-profile people were in attendance, and she outshone them all with her humility and poise.

  The “Chicago Under Forty” category was announced as the highlight of the night. Ben didn’t pay much attention to the winner or his speech, but he did notice that he looked sleek and seemed to play the role of up-and-coming doctor to a T. From their assigned table, Ben watched Rebecca as she stood near the bar deep in conversation with the chief of staff at University. He was sure they were discussing the job offer she’d been working for her entire career and was glad to see she would finally be recognized for her hard work. Any man would be lucky to have her in his life. To have her love. He knew he needed to accept his reality and start moving forward with Rebecca. He had found the capacity to care again, although it was different, and wanted her to feel appreciated the way she deserved. Starting tonight, he would ensure Rebecca understood her worth to him. He’d gained another good friend, and he knew it was time to move forward.

  As the winner left the stage, Ben watched Dr. Under-Forty winner walk back to his table. The doctor’s confidence rivaled anyone’s in the room. He was comfortable in the spotlight. Call it voyeurism. Good for him. When the doctor approached his date, she stood and kissed him as he embraced her.

  Ben stood, his body working of its own accord. The room faded to gray around him.

  She was beautiful.

  Elegant.

  Long, wavy chestnut-brown hair.

  Slim and delicate build.

  Graceful curve of her neck.

  Almond-shaped eyes highlighted by long dark lashes.

  Ben rushed through the dining room as if it was an obstacle course. Drinks splashed, and people griped, but he didn’t bother with niceties. The people and tables felt like hurdles, purposefully placed to keep him from her.

  “Grace,” Ben called unable to stop himself from saying her name. His heart beat louder than the music filling the room as he approached her, and he slowed.

  Ten feet.

  Ten feet separated them. His pace was cautious as if approaching a wild animal. By her wide eyes, she looked scared. How could she be scared? Dr. Under-Forty winner took a protective stance in front of her as if she were his to protect. The urge to pray returned, and he silently sent one into the universe: Please let it be her.

  “May I help you?” the doctor asked, his arm in front her as if Ben was dangerous.

  Ben glanced at the man trying to block his Grace from him, but his eyes quickly went back to her. He could see she was taken aback and still held fear in her eyes. He’d done that; he had scared her. He blinked rapidly and looked back at the dark-haired doctor. “I know her.”

  “I doubt it,” he said, dismissing Ben on the spot.

  But she asked, “You do?” at the same time, her voice a balm to Ben’s wounded heart.

  The doctor turned to her, and said, “Honey, he called you Grace. He obviously doesn’t know you.”

  She looked back at Ben, but he remained silent. He had lost his words as his pulse pounded loudly in his ears. Her brow furrowed and she bit the inside of her cheek making her lips purse. That one small act—that was everything.

  Ben knew. She was Grace. “What happened?” he blurted, ignoring the man still blocking her.

  She shook her head in response not seeming to understand the question. She didn’t even seem to recognize him. Her eyes held no love, not even a smile for him. The love that used to live there no longer existed. He refused to be deterred.

  The doctor took her hand tightly in his, and said to Ben, “Listen, you’ve obviously had too much to drink. I think you should excuse yourself and go back to your table before I get security involved.”

  Ben finally looked at him and how possessively he held her to his body. He used to hold Grace like that. When his gaze shifted back to her, he could tell she wasn’t going to answer his question, which baffled him. Each second felt like a clamp around his heart, tightening until he couldn’t take anymore. Why was she doing this? “Grace, please.”

  “Benjamin, what’s going on?” Rebecca placed her hand on his shoulder, but at that moment, her normal calming manner had no effect.

  “Dr. Bauer,” the doctor acknowledged Rebecca.

  Guess they know each other.

  “Dr. Barnes.”

  “Your date seems to think he knows my fiancée. Congratulations on the win tonight, by the way.”

  “Congratulations are in order for you as well, Hunter.”

  As Grace peered around her fiancé, Rebecca introduced herself. “I’m Rebecca Bauer. Congratulations on the engagement. So you know Benjamin?”

  The woman nodded, and said, “No, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Jane Parker.”

  The breath rushed from Ben’s chest as if he’d been punched in the gut. Her words made his chest ache. His tunnel vision expanded. The real world hastened back in full sound and motion, almost deafening him.

  Rebecca’s hand slid down his arm and into his hand, her fingers entwining with his. She squeezed lightly in encouragement, and said, “Well then, let me do the honors. This is Benjamin Edwards . . .”

  Ben stared at Grace as Rebecca made the rounds introducing herself and him, her voice trailing off as his own thoughts took over.

  Jane Parker.

  Jane Parker.

  Jane Parker.

  Grace Stevens.

  Grace Stevens.

  Grace Elizabeth Stevens.

  Not Jane Parker.

  “You don’t recognize me, do you?” Ben didn’t care if he sounded crazy. This whole exchange was crazy.

  “No,” she replied softly, appearing embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  Sadness colored her hazel eyes, a look Ben hadn’t often seen in her expression, but it made him believe it was her all the more. He glanced at her doctor-date who had tightened his hold on her arm, keeping her at a safe distance from Ben.

  When Ben looked back to Grace, Jane, he thought he saw a hint of hope as she looked at him, but he was so unsure of himself by this point that he dismissed it.

  With narrowed eyes still set on Grace, doubt seeped in. Was he hallucinating? Was he seeing what he wanted to see, like days before on the street? He blinked several times, knowing he was close to being admitted into an asylum if he wasn’t careful.

  Grace was a hot topic with Rebecca. Suddenly remembering where he was, he bowed his head in defeat, apologizing for interrupting their celebration.

  Hunter lightened up and finally released her from his side, but had to get in his jab, “Might want to stick to water the rest of the night.”

  Rebecca looked mortified. Grace gave a slight smile before Rebecca pulled Ben away, and they returned to the table.

  Rebecca leaned in, gritting between her teeth, “What was that all about? God, I could feel how awkward that was from across the room.”

  He shrugged, unable to honestly answer her question through the confusion of his thoughts. She should put some distance between them while he worked through his crazed mind. Rebecca should take advantage of this opportunity. He didn’t want to cause her any more embarrassment. “You should mingle. I’m going to sit here a minute.”r />
  Hint taken, Rebecca left him alone. While she mingled, he remained at the table. Watching Grace, Jane, from a safe distance, he drank three vodka martinis in a row. He caught her eyes on him more than a few times, curiosity thick in her gaze. Every time their eyes met, it was another confirmation that she was his Grace and not that doctor’s Jane. But how?

  The kaleidoscope of greens and gold that make up her eyes.

  The straight slope of her nose.

  The strands of hair that graduated from honey brown to deep auburn.

  When she finally left the doctor’s side, Ben jumped at the opportunity to speak to her again. This time he was hoping in private. He worked his way through the back of the ballroom so he didn’t draw attention to himself, especially from Hunter or Rebecca. As soon as he exited the room, he ran to the bathrooms and waited for her to come out.

  It was a new low, but he didn’t care. He needed to see her again, to see if she was real or another hallucination. The door opened and Ben stood straight only to be let down. He smiled kindly to the elderly lady and leaned against the wall. The door opened and this time his heart skipped a beat. She was real. Standing before him, she was real—her hazel eyes and hair he used to tuck his nose into when falling asleep holding her. The ghost of Grace wasn’t a ghost this time. She was real. Grace in the flesh.

  She startled when she saw him, her fingers tightening on her bag. Her eyes lowered from his and she started to leave.

  “Please give me ten minutes of your time. I promise we know each other. I don’t know why you don’t remember me, but I can never forget you. Please, Grace.”

  “Grace?” She tilted her head and bit that cheek again in contemplation as if trying on the name to see how it felt. If she only knew how that tortured him, she might not do such things.

  His natural reflex took over, and he cradled her face as his thumb smoothed over her cheek. Astonishingly, she relaxed under his touch. It only took a split second for it to register that he was once again touching Grace. Jane. Fuck! Whatever!