by Helly Acton
Millie feels her chest compress with the weight of what he’s saying. Ben isn’t coming back. Whatever this was, or perhaps still is, it’s finally over. It’s precisely what she wanted. To rewind to life before Ben, when she was happily on her hamster wheel with her regular routine. So why is there a lump forming in her throat at the thought of him being so far away? Millie looks into her mug and blows on the steam with a shaky breath. She can’t look up now or he’ll see that her eyes are starting to glisten.
‘Millie?’ he says, leaning closer towards her. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Fine!’ She smiles, blinking away the wet. ‘I think I’m just tired. I think everything is catching up with me.’
‘There’s something you should know, Belle,’ Ben says.
‘What is it?’
‘Do you remember when we first met? When I took your coffee?’
She nods.
‘That wasn’t an accident. I stole it.’
‘You stole my coffee?’ she replies.
‘I saw you, and I knew I had to meet you. With my caffeine addiction, I would never have stomached your mock-milk swill otherwise.’ He winces. ‘That, Belle, is precisely why I need to get out of here. I need some distance. I’d love to say we could be friends. And perhaps we can in the future. But right now it’s becoming harder for me to be near you. Because every time you’re close to me, all I can think of is kissing you. Well, even when you’re not close. It’s quite torturous, to be honest.’
Millie stares at his face, now blushing, as he starts to get off the stool.
‘Wait,’ she says. ‘Just sit there.’
He lowers himself back down again and watches her stepping forward, between his thighs. Millimetres away, without the blur of champagne vision, she can count every speck of blue, green and gold in his eyes. She places her hands on his flushed cheeks and brings his lips to hers, feeling his knees tighten around her hips and his hands on the small of her back, pulling her into him. They kiss. Softly at first, and then harder. When she comes up for breath, he tilts her head to one side and puts his lips on her neck, his tongue touching her ear with gentle kisses that send lightning bolts from her head to her toes, every inch of her covered in goosebumps.
Millie steps away, takes his hand and leads him to the bedroom, where she pulls him on top of her. Her legs squeeze his waist towards her and his weight makes her ache for more.
‘Stop a second,’ Ben says, lifting himself up and searching her face. ‘Are you sure we should do this? This could mess things up even—’
Millie interrupts him, putting her lips on his and continuing their kiss. He pushes her arms up above her head and strips her shirt off in one move, before she starts scrambling to unbutton his. In seconds, every barrier between them is gone. All Millie feels is hot skin as she nuzzles into the soft-scented hair on his firm chest. Ben rubs his whole body up and down hers with every hungry kiss on her lips, neck, chest and stomach, as Millie closes her eyes and silences her internal sirens with moans of pleasure. A montage runs through her mind. The moment he spun round with her stolen coffee, his electric eyes meeting hers. The secret smiles he would send her across the desk after each message, as if it were just them in the room. The golden sun highlighting his face on Castle Beach.
Ben lifts himself off her again and looks into her eyes as if he can’t believe they’re finally here. He smiles with that pointy tooth smile that makes her insides turn to mush and lowers himself back down onto her. Millie sighs as she finally lets herself go.
Early the next morning, Millie lies in Ben’s shoulder crevice as he softly runs his fingertips up and down her back under the sheets. In a few hours, he will be gone. Perhaps forever. Perhaps this was the right way to say goodbye.
‘Is that the flower from my clown suit?’ Ben asks, pointing towards her dressing table.
‘Oh,’ Millie says, embarrassed. ‘Yes. Did you want it back?’
He chuckles. ‘Of course not, I gave it to you.’
Ben turns to her and lifts the bed sheets over them.
‘Come with me,’ he says.
‘What?’ Millie scoffs.
‘Come with me,’ he repeats, leaning up. ‘Take the leap. Leave Slide. You know you aren’t happy there. We could take a month. Shit, we could take three months. Longer, if you haven’t killed me by then. We could go anywhere we want – South America, Asia, India. Wouldn’t you like to stick your fingers up at Sasha? You could look for a new role when you’re back. A better role, at a company where you don’t have to sell your soul to get ahead.’
‘Ben,’ she says, frowning. ‘I’ve told you before, I’m not that kind of person. I don’t cope well with change. Please don’t put that on me.’
‘Put what on you?’ he asks.
‘Make me out to be boring, just because I don’t want to quit the only job I’ve ever had and take off without a plan. I have a life here, Ben, and it might be dull to you, but I like it. I have my mum, June, Al, Ruth, Sunday lunches, Fridays at Buddies. I don’t want to walk away from that.’
‘I’m not making you out to be anything! Boring is the last word I’d use to describe you. I just want you to come with me, that’s all,’ he says. ‘And I don’t mean it in a purely selfish way. I just think a change of scene would do you some good. I bet your June would agree with me.’
‘Um, you barely know June,’ Millie scoffs. ‘That’s the last thing she’d say. What will do me some good is space and time to get my life back in order. That’s what I want.’
‘I don’t believe you!’ Ben cries, making Millie’s heart race. ‘I’ve seen you at the office, I’ve seen you in Tenby. I know which Millie was happier, and I think you do too.’
‘We aren’t all like you, Ben!’ she cries, sitting up and looking for her shirt. ‘You like spur-of-the-moment, you like doing the opposite of what everyone else is doing, you don’t care what people think. You break rules, you hate plans and you’re risky. And you’re bringing me down with you. It’s 5.30 a.m. and I have a pitch today. This is hardly a good start, is it?’
‘I might be risky,’ he says, sitting up. ‘But at least I’m honest. At least I’d never let myself be Sasha’s puppet.’
‘What are you saying?’ Millie says abruptly, frowning and feeling stung.
‘I’m saying, you’re too scared of everything, Millie. You’re scared of change. You’re scared of confrontation. You’re scared of what people think. One day you’ll look back and wonder what life could have been, if only you’d been brave enough to actually do what you wanted to do.’
Ben rubs his face with his hands and stands up.
‘Ben, you can’t throw a tantrum because I don’t want to quit my life and run away with you. It’s not who I am. You should know that by now!’ Millie shouts. ‘And if I’m so scared of confrontation, what do you think this is?’
‘Fair enough,’ he sighs. ‘Perhaps I need to remember that not everyone thinks like me. Everyone’s entitled to their opinion. You’ve always said that your career comes first. I hope Oxytoxin brings you all the success you’re looking for.’
Ben raises his eyebrows and buttons his shirt.
A relationship with Ben? It would never have worked. When he disappears through that door in a few minutes, she can return to the Millie she knows. But if that’s what she wants to do, why do tears stream down her face the second he slams the front door? Why does every gulp of air hurt as she staggers into her bedroom, grabs the daisy from the dressing table and tosses it in the bin? Why are her fingers shaking uncontrollably when she takes the packet from her drawer, removes the pill from the foil, puts it on her tongue and swallows?
Thirty-Three
On Saturdays, Millie’s alarm rings at 7.30 a.m. At 7.45 she eats breakfast with Bruce. At 7.55 she’s in her running gear, scraping her hair back into a high ponytail in front of her dressing table mirror. At 8.00 she shuts the front door.
Today, her Saturday-morning routine has been disrupted by the disappearance of Bruce. She
shakes the pellets around in his bowl three times and there’s still no sight or sound of his beefy paws thudding across the wooden floors. She puts her smooth-peanut-butter toast down, wanders across to the hallway and opens the front door.
‘Bruce? Breakfast!’ She shouts down the old and empty stairwell outside her flat.
Leaving the door open, in case he’s being stubborn and ignoring her calls on purpose, Millie crouches to peek under the hall table, his usual hideout. He’s not there, but something is. Millie puts the last piece of toast in her mouth and stretches underneath to retrieve it. When she pulls it into the light, her face scrunches. It’s Ben’s daisy that she threw away earlier this week. Bruce must have fetched it from the bin. Sometimes she wonders if her cat is part dog.
She twirls it with her fingertips as she stands up. The party – Ben – is the last thing she needs to be reminded of.
Millie never replied to Ben’s messages this week. Not out of anger; it was more of a defence mechanism. Watching him walk away on Tuesday morning sent a wrecking ball into her chest. Hopefully the final pill she’s taking tonight will heal her bruises.
‘Millie?’
Millie gasps and spins round, dropping the flower on the floor.
‘How long have you been standing there?’ Millie says, hiding the flower with a shaky foot.
‘Sorry,’ Ben says, rubbing his unshaven face. The overgrown stubble brings out his eyes even more, if that’s possible. ‘The front door was open. I didn’t mean to give you a fright. I found him in the street and I didn’t want to leave him. I tried picking him up, but after five seconds I decided that having hands is actually quite useful.’
Bruce appears from behind Ben’s legs and darts straight to Millie’s feet, where he starts scratching at her slippers. She kicks him away with her other foot.
‘I promise I’m not being a weirdo who hangs outside your house, I was just here to put this in your letterbox,’ he says, holding up a white envelope. ‘I feel like a bit of a dick now. I was hoping I could just leave it there and then leg it before bumping into you.’
Millie flicks the flower behind her under the drawers with her foot, sending Bruce scrambling after it, while Ben plays with the letter in his hand. The sound of Bruce gnawing through the plastic breaks the silence.
‘So, should I take that, then?’ Millie says, pointing at the letter.
Ben rubs his forehead and laughs uncomfortably. ‘Actually, now that I’m here, have you got five minutes? Look, I know I’m the last person you want to talk to, and maybe you never want to talk to me again after what happened, but I’m catching a plane tonight and I need to explain a few things before I go. Get them off my chest, you know. I promise I won’t ask you to come.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asks.
‘Back to Sydney,’ he replies.
‘Woah, that’s far,’ Millie comments quietly, feeling panicked by the distance that will soon be between them and wondering whether he’ll meet up with his ex-girlfriend. Maybe they’ll get back together. Maybe that’s the plan.
‘For how long?’ Millie asks.
‘It’s an open ticket,’ Ben replies.
Calm down. Space is what you wanted.
Ben hasn’t done anything wrong. Millie can’t punish him for calling her out on her fears; his points were all true. Perhaps a chat will bring the closure she wants to this mad chapter of her life and help her start afresh. Besides, she’s a few hours away from taking the second pill. What’s the worst that can happen? The first Oxytoxin must be having an effect on her by now, even if her rushing pulse suggests otherwise.
‘Let’s walk instead,’ Millie says, nodding towards the front door.
‘Really?’ Ben looks at her quizzically.
‘Yes. I don’t mind,’ Millie replies.
‘No, I mean . . . really?’ He smiles, looking her up and down.
‘Oh, right,’ she giggles, realising she’s still in her pyjamas.
Distracted much, Millie?
‘Come on, Belle, I know your style is comfortable but you could occasionally make some effort,’ Ben teases her. She’s going to miss those dimples. Wow, he really does listen. She’s going to miss that.
She shuts her bedroom door and clutches at her cramping stomach as his nickname for her rings in her head, and the way he says it with the ‘l’ on the tip of his tongue. It’s only been five days, but she’s missed him, despite how they left things. She’s missed this. Being with him feels so right in one way, but wrong in so many others. Too many others. She’s this close to having things back the way she wants. She mustn’t let him derail her. As painful as it might be to watch him walk away, the pain won’t last long. Not after tonight’s final dose.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t reply,’ Millie says, softly tapping the surface of the water with the tip of her trainers.
‘I’m sorry about what I said,’ Ben replies, doing the same. ‘It was harsh, to say the least.’
‘Don’t be. It wasn’t because of anything you said,’ Millie continues. ‘What you said was true – I am afraid of lots of things.’
‘Well, so what? Maybe I’m not scared of enough things,’ Ben replies. ‘You once told me I should care more about what people think. I think about that comment a lot. I know I should. But I guess we are who we are.’
‘Ben, I didn’t reply to your messages because I felt like we both needed space. And just to move forward with our lives. I thought it was pointless to try and be friends. It would feel a bit false. A bit forced. I’m black and white, I don’t cope well with blurred lines. So I thought it would be easier if we became . . . fond memories. I guess I could have just told you that, but I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t seem right to put it in a text.’
‘Well, there’s nothing to be sorry about,’ Ben replies. ‘You love your life just how it is. You’re happy on your . . . hamster wheel. And knowing that you’re happy on it alone, makes me happy.’
She’s never mentioned her hamster wheel to him. Strange. Maybe they’re more similar than she thinks.
‘And I think what’ll make me happy is having what my parents have,’ Ben continues. ‘A relationship. I guess I’m just the relationship type.’
Millie plays with a stone under her shoe, keeping her eyes on it. What’s she supposed to say to that?
‘And that’s just fine for you,’ Millie replies. ‘Obviously.’
‘It is fine,’ he nods. ‘And I would be fine, if I could just get you out of my head.’
Millie moves her scarf up when she feels her cheeks start to burn.
‘I even considered taking Oxytoxin,’ Ben says, and laughs.
‘You must have been feeling desperate,’ she says, thinking of the pill in her dressing table drawer.
‘I was. But then I came to my senses,’ he adds.
Tell him about the pill. You have to tell him about the pill.
‘Ben, I need to tell you something—’ she starts.
‘I’m in love with you, Millie Jones. I am. I suspected it the moment I spotted you in the canteen queue, and I knew it the moment I watched you in the wind on Castle Beach. Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to be in love with me back. It’s my problem, not yours. It’s been on the tip of my tongue since Tenby, and I just had to get it off my chest. I couldn’t leave without telling you. I know we don’t want the same things, and that’s fine. I’ll come to terms with it eventually. I just thought that if I don’t tell you now, I never will. And I’d spend the rest of my life wondering what you might have said.’
After a few moments of silence, Millie speaks.
‘Ben, I don’t know what love feels like, but I know there’s something between us. I know that, for the past week, I’ve thought about you a lot. About us a lot. What it would be like to be in a couple. I’ve imagined coming with you and leaving this life behind. Quitting Slide, packing my case, meeting you at the airport to fly somewhere far away. But I can’t.’
‘I thought as much,’ he says, h
is hands jangling the contents of his pockets.
‘It’s not because I don’t have feelings for you. I do have feelings for you. Maybe it’s love. But I’ve worked my guts out to create this single life for myself, and I don’t want to give it up. We’re talking dreams I’ve had since I was sixteen. Promises I made to myself. I feel like if I quit this life of mine, this life that I love, I’d be letting my sixteen-year-old self down.’
‘I get it,’ Ben says.
‘I can promise you one thing, though,’ she says.
‘Oh yeah?’ Ben says, as he stares across the water.
‘If I was going to be in a couple with anyone, it would be you.’
He smiles and turns towards her, wrapping her in his arms and resting his chin on her head. She inhales that eucalyptus scent deeply for the last time.
‘Well, thank you for saying that,’ Ben murmurs.
‘Ben, there’s something else I need to tell you,’ she says, unravelling herself from his grip. He keeps hold of her shoulders, his face lingering just a few inches from hers. She cranes her neck up, looks into his eyes and says, ‘The night you walked out, I—’
Before she can finish, Ben lowers his head and kisses her deeply, squeezing her into his chest. Leaning in, she kisses him back. The world stops. It feels like they’re alone again.
But they aren’t.
When they come up for air, Millie’s eyes shift left to the person standing behind him, staring at her.
‘June!’ Millie mutters, gently pushing a startled Ben away from her.
‘Um, hi?’ June says, her head bouncing between them both, holding a coffee in one hand and a cheese toastie in the other.
‘What are you doing here?’ Millie asks, brushing her hair out of her face.
‘What do you mean, what am I doing here? What are you two doing here?’ June scoffs. ‘I thought you’d be on your run.’ June is talking quickly, her eyes searching for anything to land on but the two of them. ‘So I decided that, as you’ve had a tough time of it lately, I’d get you a surprise breakfast!’ She laughs bitterly and lifts up the coffee and toastie. ‘Didn’t realise you’d end up surprising me!’
