Maybe he should rehearse what he was going to say, just as a safety net. The thought of choking on his words terrified him. He would only have one chance at this. Ben had never been much of a poet, but he could write what he felt and then maybe memorize it.
He tapped away at the keys:
“I love to look at you. I could do that for hours. I wish you were not so incredibly cute, and I wish that every line and curve of you was not so fascinating. I wish that any and all parts of your body, your face, every last thing down to each hair, did not pull me toward you, causing me to wish only to touch you, to feel you, take your scent in with each breath. Simply put, I am lost to all when in your presence. Damn you and cruel fate that forced us to meet.”
No, that sounded too negative. He tried again.
“The light in your eyes shines brighter than the sun to me. With it, I can see the future. Our future.”
Uh, no. too corny. He’d turn her off for sure with a line like that.
“The world lost its light when I lost you, and there is no room in my broken heart for anything else.”
Nope, too needy. Ben slammed his laptop closed. He couldn’t say any of these things to her. Hell, he couldn’t even write them into a letter and give them to her. The thought of just talking to her was hard enough for him to imagine.
He finally got a few hours of sleep after lying on the bed and looking at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. When his alarm rang, he was up like a shot and getting ready. It was finally time.
Ben had never felt like this before. He had been nervous, sure. Every time he had ever been called to his mother’s office, no matter his age, it had made him nervous. But right now, at this instant, he wasn’t sure he would survive. His heart pounded so hard he could hear it. No, he felt it in his ears.
He lifted his hand in front of him. It was shaking. Why? Why was his body betraying him like this? It’s not like he hadn’t met the woman before. It was Abbie, the woman who had agreed to be his wife, the one he had been so comfortable with. Before she left. There simply wasn’t a reason he should be feeling so weak and so vulnerable, right? Even if she could, with a word, make his life seem like it was not worth living.
No, he would not think about that. She loved him. He knew it. Unless she didn’t anymore. She had left him, not telling him why or what was going on.
Yet here he was.
He waited in the entryway of the Aqua Terra estate, not being allowed further into the house. Normally, he would have thought about how rude it was, that he wasn’t even shown into a sitting room where he could wait, but then again, he was probably lucky he was not turned away entirely. He would wait—patiently—realizing he was lucky he was even allowed to wait and see if Abbie would talk to him.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway above. Ben turned to see Abigail making her way down the stairs gracefully. He was totally unprepared for his body’s reaction.
At the sight of her, he felt his eyes grow heavy with moisture. He wouldn’t cry. He would not. His knees decided to do their part as well. He almost collapsed when they tried to buckle. His heart, beating fast before, jumped up its rhythm until it felt like it would explode. A dry, altogether unpleasant taste entered his mouth, much like the taste that signaled that he would soon throw up. As he looked at her, he wondered if he would be able to speak at all.
“What do you want, Benjamin?” she asked him frostily, and he thought his heart would break right then, killing him.
Chapter 34
“I…uh…” he started. He took a deep breath, his heart a jackhammer in his ears. “I miss you.” His eyes widened as much as hers narrowed at him. “I mean, you picked up and left and didn’t even explain to me why. I think I deserve at least that much.”
“You think that, do you?” she said, almost spitting. “I think that I deserve the truth. You see how everyone thinks they deserve something?”
“Abbie,” he said, wincing at his pleading tone, “I don’t understand. If I did something wrong, will you at least tell me what it was? How can I fix it if I don’t even know what I did wrong?”
Those blue eyes of hers turned even harder. He thought he saw a storm in them, waves crashing, lightning flashing. He had the urge to back up a step, but he planted his feet more firmly and waited for the maelstrom to wash over him.
“You know full well what you did, Benjamin Mason!” Her voice, even raised, was melodious and musical, though it cut him like the sharpest knife. “I fell for you. Quickly, stupidly, but I fell. You took advantage of that to use me for your own purposes. That’s something I can never forgive.”
“Use…use you? Abbie, what are you talking about? I never used you for anything. I—”
“Didn’t use me? I know what you did. Arianna told me all about what she overheard you tell Lucas. ‘I’ll just marry Abbie. That will ruin my mother’s plans. She’s only a maid, but she’ll do.’ Tell me you didn’t say that.”
Ben’s face went ashen. “I did.” He looked into her eyes as he said it, and he saw the anger and the hurt building there. He continued before she could speak. “Did she tell you the rest of it?”
That drew her up short. The confusion in her eyes seemed to break the angry surge that had been there. She pinched her lips and considered for just a moment. “What do you mean, the rest of it?”
“The part after what you just repeated. The part about how I laughed at what I had just said and told Lucas what I really felt.”
“No.” She was curious, which was good. It seemed to cool her anger a little. “Why don’t you tell me about it?” That last was delivered in a voice that could have been an executioner’s.
He pulled out his cell phone and handed it to her.
“What?” she said. “What’s this for?”
“Call Lucas. You won’t believe me, but maybe you’ll believe him if you call him now.”
That took her aback. She bit her lower lip and then noticed what she was doing and stopped. She reached for the phone twice—pulling her hand back after extending her arm halfway—before finally taking it. She went to dial it.
“It’s locked,” she said, holding it out to him.
“4-2-2-2-4-3,” he said, making no move to reach for it.
She entered the lock code. “That’s a strange combination.”
“It’s ‘4-Abbie.’”
Ben thought he saw her flush, though it was hard to tell because her cheeks had been slightly red from her anger earlier. She put the phone on speaker.
“Hey, man,” Lucas’s voice said over the phone. “What’s up? Are you still moping around like you’re gonna die?”
It was Ben’s turn to flush. He could feel the heat rising from his neck to his forehead. He wanted to speak, but he remained silent. Abbie looked at him as if asking if he wanted to answer, but when he didn’t, she nodded slightly.
“Hi, Lucas, It’s Abigail.”
Ben thought he heard muffled curses through the phone. “Oh, hi, Abigail. You have Ben’s phone.”
“Yes, he’s right here. I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth.”
“Okay,” Lucas said. “Go ahead.”
“Do you remember when Ben told you he was going to marry me? The very first time he mentioned it, when he came up with the idea, before he asked me?”
There was a slight pause, but then he answered. “Yes.”
“What did he say?” Abbie asked.
“He told me he wanted to marry you.”
“I want his exact words, Lucas.”
“Exact words? How can I—”
“Lucas,” Abbie said firmly. “It’s very important that you be completely truthful with me. Tell me everything.”
“Lucas,” Ben put in, earning him a sharp look from Abigail. “Tell her everything. Every word. I know you remember it. You have shoved it in my face enough times.”
Lucas sighed. “He said he was going to marry you, laughing like he was joking. He said that would put a crimp in his mot
her’s plans to marry him off to Penelope. He said, and I quote, ‘She’s just a maid, but she’ll do.’ He—”
“That’s fine, Lucas. Thank you.” Abigail looked at Ben, holding the phone up as if it was evidence. She went to end the call.
“Wait,” Lucas said, “I’m not finished. He said that stuff, sure, but don’t take it out of context. Please listen to the rest of it.”
Abbie’s hand dropped to her side. She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Okay, go ahead,” she said.
“Thank you,” Lucas said. “Like I told you, he said that stuff. Immediately after he said that bit about being ‘just a maid,’ though, he laughed. Then—”
“He laughed?” Abigail asked. “Lucas, you’re not helping.”
“Abigail, please,” the voice coming from the phone said. “Will you please stop interrupting me and just let me finish?”
“Sorry,” she said, though Ben thought she sounded more irritated than sorry. “Go on.”
“He laughed. You have to understand we had just had a conversation about this very subject—rich people seeing those with less money as lower forms of life—a few days earlier. A conversation in which I ribbed him because sometimes he acted like a snob, though not nearly as often as often as his mother would like. Anyway, he laughed and then said, ‘Yeah, right, as if the word just could ever be used with Abbie. The only sentence I can think of with an honest use of the word is this one: “Abbie is just perfect.”’ I rolled my eyes at that.”
Abbie’s face lost some of its color.
Lucas continued. “Then he went on in sickening detail about how absolutely perfect you are. How your eyes suck him in and make him feel like he’s floating on clouds, how your smile makes him want to sweep you into his arms and kiss those sensuous lips of yours, blah blah blah. I won’t bore you with the details.”
“Bore me,” Abbie said, her eyes alight now with interest.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Fine,” Lucas said. “I’ll tell you what I remember. There was a lot of it, though, and his poetry was lost on me. I’m not in love with you, after all.” Ben thought he saw a small smile form on her lips.
“He talked about how when he’s with you, the world seems a nice place, not at all like when you’re not around. When you’re not near, he thinks of you constantly. He said he thought he fell in love with you the first time he met you, and it only got stronger every time he saw you, every time he talked to you. He said—do I really have to go on, Abigail? It’s kind of making me nauseous.”
Abbie’s face looked rigid, like she was schooling it so no emotion showed. There seemed to be a smile trying to shine through, though.
“I guess that’s enough for now,” she said, in much too sterile a tone. “Thank you, Lucas. I appreciate your honesty.”
“Yeah, sure,” Lucas said. “No problem. Umm, Ben, are we cool?”
“We’re cool, Lucas,” Ben said. “Thanks.”
“Okay, great. Well, I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
Abbie looked at Ben, that carefully neutral expression still on her face. She held his phone up for him to take it.
He tried to force a smile, but was sure it was a sickly thing. His stomach felt as if it had twisted into a knot. He wasn’t sure where they were at this point. He stepped forward and reached for the phone. As he wrapped his hand around it, Abigail grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her. Her arms went around him and she enfolded him in a hug.
Chapter 35
Abigail had her answer. Her doubt melted away like snow in the noonday sun, leaving only relief in its place. He did care about her, really cared about her. It wasn’t some ploy, and he wasn’t controlled by Margaret Huntsman.
“I’m so sorry if I did something wrong,” he said to her. “If I did, I don’t know what it was. Do you understand what the deal was with that conversation?”
“Yes,” she said, “I understand. There were just so many things going on all at one time, and your mother and the maids were telling me things. I just didn’t know what to believe. It did seem like you didn’t care for me.”
“I do, Abbie, I really do. I know sometimes I seemed to be a different person. I don’t know why that happens. I should probably see a psychiatrist or something. There are times when it doesn’t seem like I’m even in control of my own mind. I can’t really explain it.” He stopped and his eyes narrowed. “Now that I think of it, I haven’t felt like that since I left home.”
“You left home?”
“Yeah, I kind of confronted my mother about the Penelope thing. It made me mad that she might have fired you. I couldn’t get a straight answer from her or anyone about what happened. And she took my phone and canceled my service—it was one of the business accounts, and she told the phone company I was fired. I lost all my contacts so I couldn’t call and—”
“She did fire me!” Abbie said. “I was escorted off the property and when I called you, your phone was out of service. I didn’t know if you arranged it and hated me, or what.”
“I’m so sorry, Abbie. I should have thought of a way to track you down before now. I should have—”
Abbie kissed him mid-sentence. The warmth she remembered and had thought about so much over that last several weeks, the comfort, spread over her body and she sighed. It felt like her muscles had turned to taffy and she sank into his embrace. They held each other for a long time, all tension leaving her, being replaced with a peace she hadn’t felt for months.
She leaned her head back and looked at him. Maybe not all her doubt was gone. What if he was still playing an act and he was carrying out his mother’s will? What could she do if that was the case? She decided to go with her feelings.
“Ben, is your mother…special in any way?”
Ben blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Special? You mean other than that she’s incredibly successful and can manipulate people expertly?”
“Yes, other than that. What I mean is, has she ever shown that she has special abilities or anything like that?”
“Abbie,” Ben said, “I really have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please just cut to the point? All you’re doing is making me more and more confused.” He stroked her hair and his eyes became unfocused for a moment as he leaned in to kiss her again. She put her hand up to stop his lips.
Abigail took a deep breath, let it out, and spoke. “Ben, your mother is a witch.”
He laughed at her. “Oh, Abbie, leave it to you to soften your words. I believe the word is ‘bitch.’ But yes, I am fully aware of that.”
“No, no,” Abbie said. “You’re getting it all wrong. What I mean is that your mother is actually a witch. She can use magic, cast spells.”
Ben’s laugh slowed to a chuckle, but his eyes didn’t show that he felt any humor. “What do you mean? What kind of joke is this, Abbie? My mother, casting spells, using magic like in the movies?”
Abigail saw that he wouldn’t believe her if she explained it to him. Despite that, though, she let out a relieved breath. Unless he was acting—and if so he was a very good actor—the fact that he found it so hard to believe proved that he was not in league with his mother. She did the only thing that would convince him without having to explain things for the next hour. She cast her magic toward him, stopping up his mouth while at the same time lifting him off his feet to dangle in the air while calling moisture out of the air into a ball of water hovering above her open palm.
“Ben,” she said calmly, looking into his wide eyes, “I’m a witch, too.”
His eyes grew even wider, and he mumbled something around the plug of solid water she had placed in his mouth. She had only done that to stop him from interrupting her. She removed it.
He was breathing hard as he tried again. “You’re…you’re a witch?”
“Afraid so,” she said as she lowered him to the ground and released the magic. She dispelled the water ball into the air as water vapor. “I figured it would be easier to show
you than to try to explain it to you. Are you all right?”
Ben was bent over, hands on his knees, breathing hard as if he had just run a race. Abigail thought that if he didn’t get his breaths under control, he might hyperventilate.
“Breathe slowly, Ben.” Abbie came up to him and rubbed his neck gently. She was glad he didn’t flinch or shy away from her when she did so. He was freaked out about the magic, but he wasn’t afraid of her. She loved him all the more for it.
It was a few minutes until he was calm. She continued to rub his neck and shoulders, making soothing noises.
“I’m okay now,” he said. He looked into her eyes and she felt a jolt, as she always did when he looked so deeply into them. “Will you explain this to me? I don’t know what to think of it. I’d like to understand.”
“Yes,” she said as she smiled at him. “I will explain everything. Let’s go into one of the sitting rooms and sit down. This will take a while.”
They settled into a comfortable little room with a fireplace, two sofas, and three big, stuffed leather chairs. Abigail sat down on one sofa and motioned for Ben to sit on the other, across a polished cherrywood table from her.
“Do you want some tea or anything else to drink?” she asked, still looking into his eyes as if to find out what he was thinking.
“I would say to give me something stronger—much stronger—but I think tea will do. I think I want my mind clear for this.”
Abbie poked her head out the door and said something to a person Ben couldn’t see. Not a servant, surely. For some reason, even though the house they were in was large and it seemed her family was fairly well off, he just couldn’t picture Abbie the maid bossing around servants. The thought caused a pang of regret. He was judging based on those old prejudices again.
“You have to understand, Ben,” she said as she seated herself again, “that most of what you have ever heard about witches is not true.”
“Which parts? Like the parts about them eating children?” He tried to make it a joke but winced when he heard how it came out. “I’m sorry, Abbie. I think I’m still in shock. Why don’t I just shut up and let you talk?”
Water & Flame (Witches of the Elements Series Book 1) Page 21
