by S. L. Scott
“You can have it,” Ben replied, looking up.
The pretty woman smiled. “Thank you.”
Ben returned to staring out the window when he heard, “Sorry to bother you, and I know this is embarrassingly forward, but would you like to join me?”
At first he hesitated, not used to talking to strangers in coffee shops or bars or anywhere anymore. But he felt it would be rude to say no. “Okay.”
“I’m Rebecca Bauer.” She held her hand out.
When he accepted her hand, he felt a small surge of guilt blend with his loneliness. “Ben—Benjamin Edwards.” He didn’t know why he shortened his name. Ben wasn’t a name he went by anymore, but in this city he’d lost who he was. He wasn’t Ben without Grace, so he became Benjamin.
After sitting for over an hour talking about everything from what brought him to Chicago more than two years ago and their jobs, they exchanged business cards.
Over the next couple weeks, Ben found his reprieve from the heavy sadness he had burrowed inside him. Rebecca showed him he could love Grace and still start living again. They had built a friendship on understanding and patience, both deeply involved in their careers. She brought him back to life during this time. No, Ben wasn’t the same as he was with Grace, but he was better than he had been in years.
His heart ached from the thought of hurting Rebecca, but he tried to justify to himself that he had warned her when they met that he was not a whole man. She had been cautioned before they became entangled. And although he was grateful for all she’d done for him emotionally, he still wasn’t healed or ready to let go of Grace, especially not now.
Grace was the only one who could heal him, and he’d found her again. He had to give it his all. His heart and soul deserved this opportunity. Rebecca deserved to find someone fully invested in her, too. He recognized that Grace’s GQ fiancé probably wasn’t going to give her up without a fight, so he had to shoot straight to her heart. He had to bring in the big guns, reinforcements.
Emily.
Pacing the empty dining room, he tried to work out how to break this news. It wouldn’t be easy. His sister would probably roll her eyes or tell him to talk to a therapist about his delusions. But this time, Grace was real. He would lay it all out there for her—plain and simple—and give her the facts. There really was no beating around the bush when it came to telling someone that their best friend was alive, but had no recollection of her life prior to life in Chicago.
So he made the call and on the third ring, Emily answered, “This is a pleasant surprise.”
It had been a while since the twins had spoken. Ben had cut himself off from a lot of his old life to cope with the loss of Grace, but it hadn’t worked. Nothing worked. Nothing made him feel better. Just more alone.
“Sorry about that.” Although he knew she understood, he still felt bad for not talking to her more.
“That’s okay. You’re calling now. How are you?” Her voice was soft, a bit apprehensive.
“I’m okay. You know, working a lot.”
“I hope you’re playing a lot too. You know the saying. Work hard—”
“Umm, not playing so hard these days, or at all.” It was true. He didn’t play much. He didn’t do much of anything except work, and he knew his sister knew this all too well about him. The last time they talked she had mentioned that she hoped things had started to turn around for him with his new girlfriend.
“How’s Rebecca? Mom forwarded me the picture of the two of you at some fancy event. You looked great in your tux. She’s very pretty, Ben.”
His sister always changed the subject when she got uncomfortable, but this wasn’t a subject he wanted to talk about. “She shouldn’t have done that. I only sent it because she’d been hassling me to send one—”
“Mom loves you. She’s happy you’ve met someone you like. We’re all happy for you—”
“I know, but I need to tell you something, Em.”
They were twins. Growing up they always joked about reading each other’s minds and would pull pranks. A lot of that was true though. Emily could read him well, even over the phone. He had tried to keep his voice even, but when it came to this revelation, it tilted up due to his happiness. “What are you talking about? Is this about Grace again?”
“Yes, it’s about Grace. It’s always about Grace.”
“Ben, you’ve got to try to move on. She’s gone, and let’s face it, she’s most likely never coming back. We’re probably not going to know what happened, but it’s time that you let yourself off the hook here.” He heard her sharp intake of breath before she continued. “I loved Grace, too. I think about her every day. I miss her every day. She was my best friend. She’s still the first person I want to call when something good happens in my life, but I can’t. I don’t know where she is and after all of these years, I’m tired of hurting and crying over something I can’t control. You can’t control this. You can’t fix this, Ben.”
Emily’s pain was heard across the miles on that phone call, which he hated. She was right, until now. “But what if I could? I mean,” his tone went from depressed to hopeful, “what if I could bring her back?”
“Back from where?”
“Back from the dead.”
Silence.
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Silence.
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.
.
“Em, I found her. She’s alive.”
* * *
While Emily flew from Seattle to Chicago, Ben had a date to keep that he refused to be late for. He even showed up twenty minutes early. He sat there biding his time by flipping through pictures of Grace on his phone.
“Hello again.”
He looked up and smiled, struggling to keep his emotions and body in check. Every part of him reacted to her just like it always had and his heart still failed to realize it couldn’t have what it wanted . . . yet.
“Hello.” He stood up awkwardly and motioned for her to join him. She sat down on a bench shaded by a large oak tree, a few feet between them. He needed her. The large, loud fountain was to their right, and just as many people as yesterday, mostly tourists, were milling about. Despite the distractions, he spoke first. “I was thinking you might have some questions for me. You can ask me anything, anything you like, and I can show you a few pictures.”
She glanced at her watch before leaning closer, her hand resting between, and whispering, “I don’t have much time, but I couldn’t stay away.”
He could see the conflict in her eyes, and although it hurt him to see any doubt, he also knew she wanted to know more. When she sat back, he watched her hands as she held them tightly together as if she was restraining them, and he noticed her lip quiver ever so slightly.
Looking at him, she confided, “I believe you.” She paused and swallowed hard. He could see her struggling to control her emotions. This must be so hard for her. “You showed me the picture, but something about you, something made me believe you the night of the awards dinner. You were so sure of yourself and there was kindness—a sense of knowing—in your eyes. I’m not sure I should be here. I’m confused. Maybe I’m a naturally trusting person, but I feel like you’re being honest with me. So I’m here again.”
“I’m glad you came. I know this must be difficult to believe everything I tell you—”
“I’ll be honest. This is really messing with my head. I always wanted to know and spent over two years searching for information, but this past year, about nine months ago, I was finally ready to put it behind me and let it go. The doctors had no idea whether my memories would come back or not, and then I just woke up one day and I felt different. I felt it was time for me to move on.” She laughed mockingly at herself. “I’m sure I sound ridiculous. But that’s kind of how it happened.”
“That’s not ridiculous at all.” He felt embarrasse
d at the thought of admitting how much time he’d spent on his own searching for her, but he thought she should hear the truth. He stood up and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets while looking out at the park-goers. “I’ve been searching for you for over three years. Every day. Every day since the day you disappeared.” He couldn’t look at her. He’d break. He was already so broken, and she needed him to be strong. For her.
The weight of her gaze was heavy, but he kept his own cast down. He felt ashamed. He could sense her approaching. He didn’t look up, too afraid of what he’d see in her eyes after his confession. Would she think him crazy? Would she see the love he still held for her? He knew his eyes would give him away.
But, when her hand landed on his stomach, his eyes finally lifted to hers. Inside her tear-filled eyes he saw something he’d lost long ago. Hope. And in hers, he found his again. Covering her hand with his, he took it and slid up until it rested above his heart. The tears escaped the confines of her lower lids and ran down her cheeks.
His heartbeat was strong in his chest and beating faster than it should. Every beat was a love letter written long before this moment, every beat an eternal promise he’d vowed to keep. He didn’t know if she could ever feel the same about him again, but the pulses that ran through their hands reconnected them intimately.
She didn’t remove her hand or try to pull away. She stared into his deep green eyes. Not ready to reveal everything, nor scare her with the deep-seated emotions, he held himself in check. But then she moved closer, eliminating half the space between them. Nothing could have stopped him from taking the next step to close the gap.
Grace’s chin grazed across his chest as she looked up. His free hand went to her waist. Neither said anything because their body language spoke clearly.
Her breathing quickened, and she blinked before looking back down at his chest. The change in her mindset slinked across her features. He hated that being with him made her feel improper somehow and caused her to doubt. His fingers tightened minutely, though he knew he couldn’t hold her there forever.
She pushed carefully off him and turned her back. “I need a moment.” Her words were barely louder than the breeze that cooled them.
Already missing her touch, he reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder to reassure her and give her any kind of comfort he could.
With her head dropped and her back still to him, she whispered, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s all right. Your heart still knows, Grace, even if your head doesn’t.”
Ben watched as she attempted to ignore the thick tension they were trapped in. “You said you brought pictures?”
Ben’s chest felt tight, but the pressure released with the change of topic. This situation couldn’t be easy for her, but he was fumbling through it as well. Accepting the reprieve, he pressed the button and lit up the screen. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
It was a big step for her to come face to face with a past she wouldn’t recognize. He debated if it was too soon for her. No, he couldn’t wait to share the photos. For her. Was it too much too soon? But just like the Grace he always knew, she lifted her chin into the air as if gathering an inner strength, and said, “Yes, I think so.”
He recognized the trait immediately. Grace’s strength was something she always shouldered with ease and he admired. Although it wasn’t as strong as he remembered, she wasn’t Grace either. Not in that moment, but Grace was still there. She just needed to be unburied. He opened his picture gallery and showed her the first photo, which was of her at a party toasting with a glass of champagne. She didn’t need to know it was their engagement party, not yet at least.
She covered her mouth with her fingertips as she stared back into her own eyes. “My eyes . . . mine but . . . foreign,” she mumbled to herself. “This is me, my life . . . before . . .” Her words trailed off, and as much as Ben wondered what she was thinking and feeling, he gave her the time she needed to process the person she used to be.
The next picture was one of her sitting by the lake behind their homes. She seemed to pause as if trying to actually remember being there. He watched her with intense fascination as she went through the twenty or so pictures he had loaded onto his phone just for her.
“I have more at home on my computer.” He smiled. “I think I have thousands—”
“Of me?” she asked surprised.
He watched an elderly couple in the distance walking hand in hand. “No, not just you. I mean,” he sat back down and rested his forearms on his legs, “a lot of you, but a lot of you with other people, too.”
“Will you show me?” She stood right in front of him, holding her hand out for him.
“I thought you didn’t have much time today?”
She looked at her watch and then put her hand out to him like an offering again. “This is more important.”
The offer was irresistible. He would never refuse her, so he placed his hand in hers and stood up. Expecting her to take a step back, he waited but she didn’t. She didn’t move. What she did was look up at him and made a confession of her own.
“I feel close to you, Ben. I don’t know what exactly we were to each other, but I can feel it was important, that you were important to me.”
He wanted to scream, “I was. I was the one you were going to spend your forever with.” Rubbing the back of his hand across her cheek, in that moment, he didn’t care about appropriate boundaries. He had his Grace standing in front of him in the flesh and needed to touch her just like old times. “Thank you. Thank you for trusting me. I know it’s hard to do, to take a relative stranger’s word, so I appreciate that you’ve given me this chance.”
She tilted her head a little confused as the words escaped, “You searched for me for three years.”
“More than.”
A sweet smile appeared on her face as realization dawned. “You never gave up, even after I did.” Her words were shaky like her hands. “Ben?”
“Yes?”
She peered directly into his eyes, as if trying to pull information from his soul. “Did you love me?” Sweet Grace, with all of my heart and soul.
“More than anything.”
6
Jane Parker
Jane and Ben walked in silence back to the parking garage across the street. He held the door open while she climbed inside his car, a soft thank you drifting from her lips.
It only took ten minutes to get to his building, but she felt every second. Two nights ago her life changed, and she was still grappling to find her footing in this new world. More than anything. He loved her more than anything. The magnitude of that statement hit her right in the heart. His honesty was so romantic she couldn’t resist gravitating toward him. Peeking over at Ben, she couldn’t deny that something was awakened, an innate attraction that stirred inside. She didn’t dare explore it for fear of what she’d find. She just wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to deny it.
Guilt seeped in. She was in love with Hunter. How could she have feelings for another if she loved him? But Ben Edwards was so handsome he took her breath away every time she saw him. His hair was stylish, short and maintained, but not perfect. A little messy and a lot sexy, if she was being honest. She liked it, and despite how much his eyes reminded her of a perfect spring day in Chicago, it was the intensity of his passion that drew her closer.
When he looked at her, her stomach flipped in anticipation. She was nervous and clasped her hands together to keep her idle hands busy. “We’re here,” he said, cutting the engine.
Hunter had called him crazy and had griped about him the rest of the night, but Jane couldn’t help herself. She was told to stay away but couldn’t keep her eyes off him. The way Ben looked at her made her feel vulnerable, almost naked that first night. The way he still looked at her, he thought she couldn’t see, but his heart lay in the palm of his hands. She was tempted to take it, the desire coming from a place she was unfamiliar with, a place Hunter had never reached. No
, I’ve never felt like this before. What is this? Why are these feelings for him so tangible?
“Ben?” He sat back in the driver’s seat before meeting her gaze and waited to hear what she had to say. “I’m scared.”
Doubts clouded her thoughts and mixed with guilt. Was she doing something wrong? Why did she feel like she was betraying Hunter? She knew why. She was sneaking around behind his back. Hunter Barnes was the one who helped her from the beginning of Jane Parker. When the hospital could no longer help her, he did, fully—financially and emotionally. He healed her physically. He turned her tragedy into a fairy tale. Without him, she would be homeless, penniless, wandering the streets. She would be nameless. Instead, she lived in a high-rise apartment building in the best zip code in Chicago. When she was out of the hospital, he helped her establish her identity legally after handling everything for her with the hospital. Everything he did was for her and that made the transition into this unknown life easier, including not having to work. She just had to keep a nice house. She had an endless spending budget and designer clothes. He gave her everything. Not without expectation, but underneath those, he loved her. She knew he did. She owed him her life and had promised her loyalty in return.
But what kind of life was she expected to live? Her complete happiness had been traded for security, so if she was offered a chance to know who she was, how could she turn her back? Ben was in front of her, right there in front of her, offering her the answers she had wanted for years. Surely Hunter would want her to have them. Discovering who she was before the accident will only strengthen their relationship. She will become Mrs. Barnes as a whole woman instead of half the person she was now. Maybe I’ll remember what I do for a living . . .
Ben took her hand in his, and she admitted to herself that it was comforting. He treated her with kid gloves, so careful as if she’d break before him. As his eyes roamed over her face, she searched his face for honesty. He said, “I’m here with you, for you. We’ll do this together. You can tell me what you want to see and we’ll focus on that. One step at a time.” Since yesterday, his tone was always gentle with her, even when he was upset. The source of his pain was evident—her. She hated it. She hated hurting him and every time he looked at her, that hurt mingled in the deep green of his eyes. But rivaling that pain, it angered her that her mind refused to remember a man who’d loved her so vehemently, a man that she must have loved as much.
