by Nella Tyler
For the next few days, things proceeded along the same vein. I didn't try to talk to Ben and he didn't try to talk to me. He didn't scowl at me or otherwise bother me, and he seemed his pleasant old self. Was it that easy? Was it so easy for him to move on? Was I so forgettable? Stop it! I told myself. I was the one who had ended the relationship, and quite vehemently at that. I didn't have much interest in talking to him, anyway. It was better this way, wasn't it?
On the fifth evening after I had told him to leave me alone, I was working one of the later shifts. At about midnight, two hours before my shift ended, Ben sauntered in. I had just been glancing around and saw him, and to be honest, my eyes widened in surprise. He didn't look…how could I say this? He looked disheveled. He looked worn out. Stubble darkened his cheeks. His eyes look tired. Of course, I didn't get a super close-up because he passed within about ten feet of my table and his face was turned away as he did so, but I saw his wrinkled shirt, the smudge of something on his tie.
My heart skipped a beat. Was something wrong? This was not the Ben I knew. Never before had I seen him look anything less than put together. I wondered if his appearance had anything to do with me not talking to him or brushing him off so abruptly. Could he possibly be taking the break-up that hard? I doubted it. Ben was a player, and I knew that. Why, he had women fawning all over him all the time.
Although I was a little concerned and did want to ask him what was bothering him, I left him alone, made it a point to ignore him the rest of the evening. I wasn't about to step into the mess all over again. Besides, I convinced myself that I didn't care enough to break the silent treatment I was giving him.
Chapter 4
On the last night of my week’s schedule before I had two days off, Ben didn't come around at all. It bothered me, although I couldn't quite put my finger on why. I think it was because of his appearance the last time I had seen him. He had looked so unkempt, so…unsettled. That was the only word that I could use to describe his appearance, let alone beyond that. His happy-go-lucky demeanor had diminished. Although his back had been to me most of the time, I was always able to pick out his laugh in the crowd, and I hadn't heard it for several days.
I began to wonder if he was dealing with more demons than I had imagined. While I was sort of relieved that he hadn't come around because my job certainly seemed easier, mainly because I didn't feel the eyes of the pit bosses on me or self-conscious about the eyes in the sky, I also figured that if he had really wanted to make up to me, really wanted to pursue our relationship, he certainly could have tried harder.
I had to accept the fact that he had probably moved on. Found another girl. Found a girl that could be bought with a few pleasant words, a few gifts, a few rolls in the hay, so to speak. Had I done the right thing? I brought it up to Savannah and she nodded.
"You know, Maggie, guys are pretty hard to figure out sometimes. As far as I'm concerned, yes, he should've tried harder to get you to forgive him, but then again, you did put your foot down. You're the one that told him to leave you alone, so you have to be satisfied with that."
I supposed she was right, although it didn't make things much easier. To be honest with myself, I missed him. I missed that smile, that sense of humor, that laugh. I didn't miss the stress I had begun to feel toward the end of our brief relationship. I knew Savannah was right, but it didn't make me feel much better. In fact, I began to feel a little guilty. Had I been too hard on him?
Then, I shook myself. No way. I always let my feelings get in the way of logic and common sense. I wanted to help everyone, "fix" everyone, and I had to realize that that wasn't always possible, or even wanted. He was a big boy. He could take care of himself. If he wanted to date more women, or those who didn't care what he was doing or how he did it, then that was their problem, not mine.
I had to content myself with the fact that he had probably moved on, and that's what I tried to do. I carried on with my shift, pushing any thoughts of Ben far into the recesses of my mind. Tonight, when I got home, I would probably bring all the memories out, and then I would pack them into a nice little box in my mind and put it away. A pleasant interlude and adventure, and now it was done and over with.
Over the following days, I didn't hear anything about Ben, nor did I see him. I slowly got back into the routine of just focusing on my job. I picked up a few extra shifts to make some extra money. Maybe it was because I knew that Ben had so much money, but I decided that if I wanted to get ahead, I had to work even harder and earn more money to put away. I needed to build up an emergency fund or something like it so that if something ever happened, I would always be able to put a roof over my head for a couple of months. It wasn't as easy as it sounded, but focusing on something other than Ben helped me move forward and make efforts to better myself.
Maybe, if I could pull enough shifts to start building up a fund that would take care of groceries and utility bills for a few months, I might even consider going back to school. I supposed I could look into some type of student loan program that didn't cost too much and I might be able to make payment plans on a school program or section of classes on a monthly basis.
By the time my shift ended, I was feeling better about my future. I was moving forward again. Thinking about improving my circumstances. I was actually smiling when I got home – for the first time in quite a while. When I went to bed that night, I felt better than I had in days. I didn't go to sleep at night dreading what the following morning would bring.
*
It was my first day off. I rarely had two days off in a row, and I planned on running errands today, maybe doing a little shopping, and then just hanging out for the rest of today and tomorrow. The downtime would do me good. I tried not to overthink everything, especially in regard to Ben.
I decided that this afternoon I would create a long-term budget, seeing where I could save some money, cut back on something, and start putting some money away not only for an emergency fund, but to get ahead on utility bills and groceries, and perhaps even start taking a little bit of money from every paycheck into a school fund. Instead of dreading the task, I was looking forward to it. This is what I needed. I needed to continue my journey of self-improvement. I didn't need a guy in my life complicating things.
Just as I went into my bedroom to fetch my vacuum cleaner from my closet, I heard my doorbell ring. Odd, I wasn't expecting anyone. It was probably Savannah, wanting to see if I wanted to go shopping with her. Smiling, I walked to the front door and glanced through the peephole. My heart suddenly began to trip hammer in my chest. I felt a myriad of emotions. Joy. Annoyance. Hope, followed quickly by pain. It was Ben.
I sighed, rolled my eyes, and wondered if I should open the door. I supposed if I didn't, he would just return. After all, he knew where I lived.
"What you want, Ben?" I asked through the door.
"Let me in, would you, Maggie? I really want to talk to you."
"What is there left to say?" I said. I tried to keep my voice firm. The sight of him standing out there looking so forlorn tugged at my heartstrings, dammit. While he still looked tired, he had shaved. Still, his hair was more tousled than usual, and though he wore a T-shirt and jeans, I could tell that they were wrinkled, as if he’d slept in them.
"Please, Maggie, let me in, okay?"
I don't know why, but I did. I let him inside. I displayed none of my emotions, trying to keep my face and expression as blank as possible. Dammit! I had just gotten to the point where I had convinced myself that I had gotten over him, but just seeing him made my heart race. There was no denying my sexual attraction to him.
I stepped back, gestured for him to enter, and he immediately walked over to my sofa. My ratty, used, afghan-covered sofa. He sat down. I decided that the least I could do at this point was hear him out. I sat down on the opposite end of the couch and gestured for him to go ahead. He certainly looked apologetic, but I had gone through all that not only with him, but with my ex-husband, as well. Sorry only went
so far. A person could only take so many “I’m sorry” stories before they began to sound meaningless and trite.
"I'm sorry for putting you in the position that I did," he began bluntly.
He looked at me. "I never meant to hurt your feelings, Maggie, really. I wasn't thinking. I should've known better."
He looked at me, but I didn't say anything. I gestured for him to continue. "I'm telling you the truth, and it may hurt a little bit to hear it, but I came here to be honest, and so that's exactly what I'm going to be. I have to be honest and tell you that initially, I started going to your Blackjack table every night because I did eventually want to elicit your help.”
I knew I shouldn’t have been shocked and tried to tamp down the feelings of hurt that his words elicited.
“But the more often I went, the more often I saw the kind of person you were and to appreciate not only your outward beauty, but your inner beauty. I wanted to get to know you better for who you were."
Of course, my heart sank when he told me that he had originally approached my table because he wanted me to help him cheat. To be honest, as he said, his words made me feel like crap. But I was the one who wanted honesty from him, so at least there was that. I refused to cry. To think that the reason he had first sat down at my table those first nights, being so friendly, charming, and attentive was because he wanted to use me cut deeper than anything I had experienced since my husband's betrayal. I couldn't lie about that.
"The first time we went out, Maggie, that first dinner date and then the Jacuzzi and what happened afterward… I’m being honest with you when I tell you that I really enjoyed being with you. Thoughts of asking you to help me didn't enter into that part of our relationship."
I watched as he paused, glancing down at his hands, resting on his knees, and then he continued.
"The more time we spent together, the more I began to feel an intense attraction for you. Not only because you're so beautiful, but because you're such a kind, compassionate, and honest person."
I had to be honest, as well, and I did feel rather skeptical. I tried my best not to smile. If he thought me to be such an honest person, then why in heaven’s name had he asked me to cheat for him? Was he just stating platitudes? How many times had I heard those before? I had heard plenty from my ex-husband, but it hadn't stopped him from being a total jerk. I got the impression that Ben understood what I was thinking.
"I understand that you're angry with me, and you have every right to be." He lifted a hand, as if he was going to place it on my shoulder, but then changed his mind.
"I want to make it up to you, Maggie."
I shook my head. "How do you intend to do that, Ben? You can't take your words back. And don't think that gifts are going to do it because, as you know, that's not what I'm all about."
He shook his head. "The only reason I gave you all those gifts was because I didn't want to lose you-"
"And, I already told you, Ben. I can't be bought with money or material things. If you knew me at all, you would understand that." I was beginning to grow angry. Was this going to be the same song and dance that I had heard so many times before? I knew I might be unfair due to my history and my suspicion, but I couldn't help but be wary. I had fallen for those make-up words so many times before it wasn't funny.
"Maggie-"
"I've already told you that I'm not like that. Your money, it's nice, no doubt about it. You're very fortunate to have so much that you don't have to worry about how you’re going to pay your next bill, keep a roof over your head, or fall back on something in an emergency. But you see, Ben, I don't have that luxury, and when I do, it's going to damn well be because I've earned it, not because somebody gave it to me. Is that so hard for you to understand?"
He shook his head. "I've never met anyone like you, Maggie. I screwed up. I didn't-"
"So you're used to going out with women who you can buy off with trinkets and baubles, fancy cars and expensive food… I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Money does buy a lot of perks, after all." He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but I held up my own hand. "I did have a good time going to those places with you, Ben – the expensive restaurants, your fancy house. I can't lie and say that I didn't enjoy it. Riding in your limo was fun because I've never done that before. But that's not why I was attracted to you. Money isn't everything, and it's not worth a hill of beans compared to other things in life."
"Maggie-"
I felt a sheen of tears burn in my eyes. "I may not have a lot, Ben, and the stuff I have may be ratty and secondhand, but it's mine. And yes, I live paycheck to paycheck, but you know what? I don't have anything to feel guilty about when I go to bed at night. I put in a hard day’s work for my pay. I might not have everything I want, but I have enough to get by. For now, getting buy is all I can deal with."
"Maggie, let me-"
"Let me finish, Ben. I don't plan on doing this forever. I plan on doing something bigger and better with my life. You don't have to worry about money, and you can do anything, be anything that you want. I don't even know what you do for a living, or even if you have a job. All I know about you is that you gamble every night. I don't know if you're addicted to it, and at this point I just don't care.”
“Maggie-”
“What I'm trying to tell you is that you can’t just treat people like objects. You can’t go through life thinking that you can buy affection from anyone, even if they're willing to take it. That's just pretending. That's phony." I paused a moment. "I wasn't attracted to you because of your money. Like I said before, I was attracted to you."
He said nothing for several moments. "I've lost control," he said simply. "The honest, plain, simple truth, Maggie, is that I've fallen for you, and I lost control of the existence that I had so carefully orchestrated for myself. What I had imagined to be a simple lark turned out to be something quite more. What I'm trying to say is that my feelings for you are genuine. You're worth fighting for, and I'm willing to do that."
I stared at him in amazement. What was he saying? Was he telling me that he truly had feelings for me? I wasn't quite sure whether to believe him, but he seemed honest. Then, much to my surprise, we began talking.
We talked about relationships, what was most important to us, and he reiterated again how he felt about me. I wasn't sure whether to believe him or not. He could've been giving me a typical song and dance, but the more we talked, the more I began to believe him.
After a little while, he moved closer to me on the couch. Then, he leaned forward. I knew he wanted to kiss me. Much to my surprise, instead of pulling back, slapping him, or rebuffing him, I leaned into his kiss. The moment my lips touched his, I felt a thrill surge through me. I didn't know if I was making a big mistake, but for the moment, I was willing to give Ben a second chance.
Chapter 5
It started out easy enough, just a kiss – but what a kiss it was. With that kiss it seemed as though Ben was trying to say so many things. And I was still trying to figure out what the hell I was doing, and why I was letting him kiss me, but the moment his lips touched mine, most of my questions flew out the window. It was only Ben. I knew this was wrong, but I had already pretty much figured that I would be moving on without him and here he was in my living room, sitting on my couch, kissing the living daylights out of me.
And, you know what was so bad about that? I felt the same desire for him that I always had. No matter what he had done, no matter what he said, it was like I felt compelled to forgive him. It wasn't just the kiss that did it, either. It was because I realized how much I still felt attracted and drawn to him. Yes, I realized that he had overstepped the bounds, but he was trying to apologize, wasn't he?
The kissing grew more passionate and before I knew it, we were both pressed up against one another, his arms around my back, mine around his shoulders. Our lips parted and our tongues again began to explore each other’s mouths, and before I knew it, I felt one of his hands cradling my breast. All
of a sudden, I couldn't stand the thought of clothing between us, and I broke off the caress, staring at him while I pulled the T-shirt over my head. I wasn't wearing a bra underneath. I got the impression that he felt a little uncertain now, so I reached for his hand and placed it over my breast, holding it there. Warm. Firm. Strong. He began to squeeze gently, and then I closed my eyes, leaned forward, and kissed him again.
There was something different about this coming together. It was like so many emotions were wrapped up in my chest. Desire, affection, despair, anger – I don't even know how to explain it. I was hurt, but I was still excited by the passion and in his caress. To be honest, I was surprised by my own reaction, as well.
He murmured against my lips, soft words of apology, regret, and then those three words that literally turned my world upside down. It was spoken between passionate kisses and my ears were ringing, so I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly, although I knew that I had.
"I love you, Maggie," he whispered, so soft that I barely heard the words. I wanted to reply in turn, really I did, but I didn't. I was still determined to protect myself, to protect my heart. Besides, I didn't want to show my hand, to make him think that a few kisses, sexual desire, and words blurted out in the midst of passion would sway me so easily. I kissed him in earnest, acknowledging his words without returning them.
I knew I had to protect myself. I knew it was wrong of me to continue making out with him without explaining myself, but he didn't seem to notice, or care. That gave me a slight pause, but the minute I felt his lips leave mine and I felt that sense of emptiness, I just wanted him next to me, close to me. He leaned forward again, as if he were going to kiss the base of my neck, but I grasped his head and lowered it to my breast. He kissed my nipple gently, so gently as if he were honoring it. It puckered of its own accord, reaching out to him, wanting more.
