Until The Last Star Fades

by Jacquelyn Middleton

  “But they didn’t?”

  “Their next-door neighbor’s daughter…” Ben glanced away. “We…had sex a few times. She got pregnant. I got blamed.” He looked up, gauging Riley’s reaction.

  He’s got a kid? She gripped her flowers, trying not to look alarmed.

  “They told me having sex at sixteen made me a ‘bad influence’ on their own kids…” He shook his head. “I told them I’d been careful, it couldn’t be mine, but they weren’t having any of it. They called social services, sent me packing. Of course, the real father came forward when the baby was born, but by then I was already with foster family number four. I kept my head down, studied, went to my drama school audition, and counted the days ’til I turned eighteen. I hightailed it on my birthday.

  “I know fostering helps lots of kids, but when no one wants you…you turn inward. All I had was my memories…and grief. I was told I’d ‘get over it’, but grief isn’t something you get over, or move on from. Grief sticks. It finds its way into your bones and changes you. I felt like I’d lost myself. I wasn’t Shannon’s son anymore. If Mum could’ve seen me, she wouldn’t have recognized me.” He squinted into the sky, the sun sneaking out from behind a gray cloud. “That August I moved to London for uni, met Mark—the first real friend I had in a bloody long time. Through him I met Spencer and…other girls.” Ben began raking the toe of his boot through a pile of windblown leaves. “I think I was looking for someone who might love me, but…I was pretty fucked up. I confused lust and sex with love. I thought if they fancied me, they cared for me. Took me a while, but I realized the girls most interested in drunk, no-strings sex weren’t going to be there when I felt lost or couldn’t afford bus fare.” He tilted his head, meeting Riley’s sympathetic stare. “It triggered those old feelings of not being loveable, you know? And if I felt anything resembling love, I didn’t trust it. So, I’d have sex and move on, ditch them before they ditched me. Why stick around for rejection? I’ve had more than my fill.” He ran a hand over his frown. “I’m a bit ashamed, looking back. I wasn’t doing it to be an insensitive dick. I was desperate for companionship, even if I didn’t know their names the next morning…”

  I called him a fuckboy. Riley’s stomach soured. “Ben, I’m sorry I called you a—”

  “Fuckboy? If it quacks like a duck…” The corners of his lips turned up. “No, it’s okay. I own it.” He looked away. “I know it sounds weird, but I think I forgot how to care about anyone, or how it feels to be loved…” His eyes found her again. “And then, this pretty New Yorker stole my suitcase…”

  “Uh, you know you’ve got that backward,” said Riley, in on the joke.

  He smiled lovingly. “You were like this rare, beautiful comet lighting up the dark sky. You helped me find my way again… helped me find myself again. You saved me.”

  Her eyes dropped to the ground and her grin broke free, his kind words and the feel of his unwavering gaze raising a warm blush to her cheeks.

  “If you’d left me in the shitty strip club that night, God knows where I’d be…what I’d have done.” He reached up, freeing a rogue leaf from her ponytail. “I owe you so much…”

  Lifting her chin, she caught his eyes. “Well, I owe you more—Mom and I both do.”

  A wistful look washed over his face. “That day up on the rock in Central Park, you went to get ice creams and were laughing with the vendor. I remember looking down at you and thinking I could never get tired of that smile. I pulled out my phone and saw Maggie’s crowdfunding page on Facebook. It floored me. I didn’t know what to do or say. All that fear, the helplessness I had when I lost my mum, it all came flooding back…”

  Riley gripped Ben’s hand tightly as he continued.

  “I know it was stupid, but I thought it was the right thing at the time, just a little white lie. I wanted you to know I’d been through something similar, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. I didn’t want to be that person—the idiot who tells someone in the middle of the battle, ‘Oh, yeah, my mum had cancer. She had surgery, chemo, but none of it worked and she died.’”

  He refused to be a Grim Reaper—he was just trying to protect my heart.

  “You didn’t need to hear my unhappy ending, Riley. I wanted you to keep fighting for her, still have hope. So…I said Mum had beaten her cancer, because—God’s honest truth—I wanted that for you and Maggie, more than anything in the world…”

  A surge of warmth—gratitude—filled her chest. Riley pulled him into a tight embrace, fresh tears in her eyes. “Ben, I don’t like lying, but…” He didn’t do it maliciously; he knows what it’s like—losing hope when the odds are against you. “I understand why you did it. You were sparing me more hurt. You were trying to be kind…”

  Ben held her in his arms, his head on her shoulder. “I think…sometimes…it’s easier to help someone else with their pain than to deal with your own, you know?” Pulling back, a gentle smile softened Ben’s face again. “And I was already falling in love with you—so badly. That mad feeling…it knocked me sideways.” He laughed, playfully. “I was giddy and dopey, wanting to be around you all the bloody time. I’d fight dragons—NO!—I’d pick up spiders for you and…” His grin faded, a hushed tone imbuing his voice. “Lie about the worst day of my life…if it would help lift you up.” A sigh passed his lips as he let her go and slid his hand around hers, his thumb strumming her skin. “Riley, I love you so much, you know that, right? You’re my everything.”

  And you’re mine. A rush of goose bumps rose underneath her parka. All the tender moments they’d shared, cherished in memory, wrapped around her heart. She gave his hand a squeeze. “I love you, too.”

  Ben squeezed it back. “That day, when you told me Maggie’s blood type? I know we’d only been going out for a little while, but…I can’t really explain it. It’s like I knew I could help her, and it was maybe, you know…a second chance. There was nothing I could do for my mum, but I felt like maybe I was meant to meet you and Maggie when I did. Sounds daft, I know…”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Riley’s offered an understanding smile.

  Ben slowly shook his head in frustration. “I didn’t mean to do any harm, but the longer it went on, the lie sorta took on a life of its own. I was afraid you’d dump me the second I told you the truth. When you called to celebrate six months post-op, I behaved terribly, and I’m so sorry. I was actually over the moon that you might be moving here for work, but I was afraid you’d ask to meet Mum if you came. It all started to eat away at me. So, I decided if you didn’t get the job, I’d tell you and Maggie in June, face to face when I visited New York, and if you did come over, I swore I’d do the right thing and bring you…here.” He glanced at his mother’s gravestone, his face crinkling into a worried frown. “I can only imagine what Maggie will think when she finds out. If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, I’ll understand—”

  “Ben, it’s okay.” Riley released his hand and stepped closer, her heart pounding, screaming in her chest—just kiss him!—but she didn’t, taking his face in her hands instead. “We’ll explain it to Mom. She’ll understand…just like I do.” As she stroked her fingers delicately over his cheeks, Ben’s worried expression faded, replaced by a soft grin. “But, please, no more secrets, okay?”

  He rested his hands on her waist. “Definitely, no more secrets. It’s a huge relief, actually, telling you…” A soft breath left his lips. “Riles, I miss her so much.”

  “Ben.” Riley gathered him in, desperate to ease his pain. “I can only imagine…”

  Safe within her embrace, he gave in to his grief. “You know, it’s always there, under the surface. Some days—Mother’s Day, her birthday—I brace myself, knowing it’s gonna be bad, but it’s weird—a regular day can feel worse. I’ll be in a shop and hear a song she loved or see someone wearing a coat like hers and…” His voice cracked. “It breaks me so hard. It just comes at me and I can’t stop it…” His hand swiped tears from his eyes. “I mis
s telling her my good news and hearing her laugh. I know it sounds daft, but I keep our old number in my phone. I like seeing it there.”

  Stroking Ben’s back, Riley nodded. “My mom carries her dad’s driver’s license in her wallet. She can’t part with it. She talks to him sometimes, too.”

  “Oh, I do that—all the time. I don’t need a church or a grave, I just…wherever I am, I share how I’m doing, how much I love her, and…how much I love you.” He pulled back, meeting her eyes.

  An ache stirred inside Riley’s chest. Five months, three days and…too many hours! Just KISS HIM! Slowly breathing him in, her lips joined his, the softness of his mouth feeling like home. Ben’s hands shifted upward, pressing through her bulky parka like he couldn’t hold her close enough. From the tenderness of his kiss, his eager embrace, Riley knew Ben was as devoted to her as she was to him. She leaned back, smiling as his hair danced in the wind across his forehead.

  “I’ve never kissed in a cemetery before. Have you?”

  “Um…” Ben bit his lip.

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then!’ They shared a quiet laugh.

  Ben gently swept a lost eyelash from Riley’s cheek. “But I’ve never been in love in one…until now.”

  “Well, that makes two of us.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, the touch of her fingers reveling in his hair, eliciting a groan of longing from his lips.

  “You don’t know how good it feels to hear that.” Ben nuzzled her ear and a new burst of goose bumps tickled her skin, causing her to shiver against him. “That wind is picking up. Want to head back?”

  “When you’re ready.”

  Ben pulled back slightly. “We could go to mine. Spencer’s away on a hen weekend—”

  “YES!” Riley flinched at her own outburst. “I mean…yeah, that would be great.” More than great.

  He laughed, pressing a smiley kiss to her mouth, and let her go. “I’ll call a cab.”

  Riley watched him on his phone, chatting with the dispatcher. He looked happy, relaxed—his old self again. I owe Shannon so much. She removed the plastic on her daisies and kneeled down. “Thank you…for sending him to me,” she whispered, setting her flowers beside Ben’s. “I promise Ben will never be alone again.”

  Seventy-One

  Riley and Ben achieved a new record—within seconds of slamming the door of Spencer’s tiny flat, they were naked and lip-locked and tangled in each other on his unmade single bed. While a tour of his London home would’ve been nice, Riley didn’t care. All she wanted to see was Ben liberated from his boxer briefs. After their hour-long taxi/train/Underground journey (where their amorous acrobatics were limited to a full-on snog and under-the-parka, over-the-clothes touching), her self-control had been pushed to its limits on the Victoria line.

  Ben didn’t leave the Underground unruffled, either. Despite making it his mission to tease Riley into a pent-up frenzy, Ben’s desire for his girlfriend got the better of him—he exited the Tube station carrying his backpack in front of his crotch.

  Behind closed doors, the promise of a slow, sensuous reunion dissolved into a desperate quickie of open mouths, arching hips, and fisted bedsheets. In the heady aftermath, Ben’s small room looked like it had been ransacked: a once-orderly stack of books lay in a pile of literary rubble, discarded clothes were scattered everywhere, and the bedframe’s incessant banging knocked a framed photo of Riley off the wall to the threadbare carpet. Even his small floor lamp was upended.

  Happy? Euphoric? Sex drunk?! Yes, THAT’S how I feel! I’ve missed him, how I feel with him. Lightheaded and breathless, Riley flopped backward onto the crumpled sheets and discovered why Ben always slept on the right side of the mattress. “Oww!”

  He looked over his shoulder, the damp sheen of exertion glistening on his back. “Careful now, Riles. I told you, this mattress bites.” He laughed as he dropped the used condom in his empty bedside bin.

  Not even a painful spring could deflate Riley’s orgasmic high. Taking delight in Ben’s toned backside, she raised an eyebrow and hugged herself, the bliss of finally having skin-against-skin sex after five months apart still coursing through her body. “Benjamin,” she purred. “Come back here.”

  Ben snickered, searching for his underwear. “If you want a nice home-cooked supper tonight and more of this”—he waved his hands over his body like it was a prize on a TV game show—“you gotta let me pop to the shops for groceries and more condoms.”

  “Didn’t that restroom vending machine give you more than one?”

  “Nope. Stingy fucker.” Ben leaned over, setting the broken floor lamp back onto its feet.

  Watching him at the end of the bed, Riley ached for the weight of him moving over her again. “Don’t go yet. Kiss me—now.” She eased up on her elbows, daring him to come back.

  Ben’s eyes swept over her pale skin, bathed in a sliver of streetlight, creeping past his polyester curtains. “Bossy.” He laughed. “And that’s a compliment!” He climbed back onto the bed and lay between Riley’s thighs, leaving gentle kisses first, then warm licks and sucks, each teasing flick of his tongue pushing Riley’s hands farther into his hair.

  Ben lifted his head, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Argh—you’re getting me all riled up again. Sorry, you’ll have to wait for more, missy!” He shifted up, pressing brief kisses along her chest and her neck, finally reaching her mouth. He smiled into a long, deep kiss as Riley’s hand slipped past the scar on his abdomen, curling around where he was eager and ready for another round.

  With kisses and caresses, they spoke to each other in sighs, thankful their love was stronger than any ocean or secret conspiring to keep them apart.

  Riley’s lips brushed Ben’s. “I think I’m going to like London—a lot!” They shared a chuckle as her finger traced the two hollow stars tattooed beneath the curve of his left collarbone. The beautiful sentiment from his mom’s gravestone tugged at her heart. Until the last star fades… “I used to think this tattoo was a tribute to astronomy or that crazy Equinox TV series you geek out about, but…it’s for your mom, isn’t it?”

  He nodded, a wistfulness in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s me and her. This way, she’s always with me. I don’t get to the cemetery as much as I used to, only birthdays and Christmas, really.” He propped himself up on his elbow. “I want to make her proud. It’s why I’ve been working so hard with Love Bites—it feels like I’m doing it for her as much as me. I’ve even started taking orders for weddings.”

  “No way!”

  “Yeah! First one was before Christmas. A customer took my details and hired me to make brownie wedding favors. Then, three of her guests, called me up for three different corporate parties in the City. I ended up baking all night and rolled into Waterstones half asleep, but it was so worth it! Those jobs turned into more bookings and they just keep coming, mostly word of mouth, referrals. Riles, if demand keeps growing like this, I might be able to do Love Bites full-time, maybe get a small shop, even…”

  Her hand flew up to meet her smile. “That would be perfect!”

  “I know! And I’m doing everything by the books. I’ve met with a bloke at the bank, I drew up a proper business plan over Skype with Hunter, and Mo has been giving me advice. He started with one market stall five years ago, and now he’s got three stalls, two shops, and online sales, too! His son is a website wiz, so he’s been working on my new site. It goes live next month!”

  “Ben, this is amazing! Can you…imagine what your mom would say?”

  “Hmm, she might be a wee bit proud…and hopefully you are, too?” He raised an expectant eyebrow.

  “Like you have to ask!” She planted a kiss on his forehead. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

  “Oh, she would’ve loved you…and Maggie. I—oh!” Ben froze. “Just give me…” He rolled over and off the bed, his hand zeroing in on the envelope Maggie had sent over for his mom. It sat on a narrow shelf screwed to the wall. The a-ha record, two birthday cards, the Equinox Ten boxset, a m
uch-loved stuffed turtle, and the swiped plastic gallbladder were the only other residents. “Maybe you can sorta meet her…” Envelope in hand, he sat back on the bed.

  “But that’s my mom’s note—she wrote it to your mom.” Riley looked confused.

  He pulled away a second envelope, stuck to the back of Maggie’s. “It sticks to everything. Mum sealed it with tape. She always went overboard—took me ten minutes to open a Christmas present once.” He flipped it over, placing it in her hand. “Here.”

  For Benjamin. Riley stared at the swirly handwriting; its penmanship matched the B. Something tag on his pink suitcase. “What is it?”

  “It’s the letter Mum wrote me…before she died.” He nodded. “You can read it…if you want to.”

  “I can’t read it. It’s private.”

  “Well, suit yourself, but she wouldn’t mind.” He leaned forward and kissed her temple then gathered his blankets into a cozy nest around her. “Now that you’re snug as a bug in a rug, I’m running out to the shop. I’ll get some basics: bread, eggs, bacon…oh, and prawn cocktail crisps—you’ll like those! Be right back, ’kay?”

  She nodded, her eyes falling back to the envelope.

  Ben shimmied into his boxer briefs and inched along the small pathway between the bed and the wall until he located his jeans, t-shirt, and hoodie, all buried under his books. Blowing Riley a kiss, he left the room and the flat, the door locking behind him.

  Heart heavy, her tentative fingers slipped inside the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper, its edge jagged from where it had been torn from a spiral notebook. Taking a deep breath, she began to read.