by T L Swan
“That’s it,” he snaps, and grabs my arm. “Get in the car.”
“What? Have you gone fucking mad?” I whisper.
“We’re leaving.”
“Fuck’s sake, Ben. I’m at a family wedding. Go home!”
The priest comes around the corner. “We are going in.” He smiles calmly.
I fake a smile in return. “Thank you.”
Rage is burning on Ben’s face. I’ve never seen him so mad. “I’m warning you, Bridget. If you don’t want a scene, make sure he keeps his fucking hands off you.”
“How dare you?”
“Don’t push me. That is your first and last warning,” he growls.
I force a smile through my tears. I can’t believe this. “Thank you, Ben. Thanks a lot.”
“For what?” He frowns.
“For ruining every beautiful memory I had of you.”
His face falls.
“Get the fuck out of my life.” I storm inside with my heart hammering hard in my chest, and I take my seat between my boyfriend and my sister.
BEN
I sit at the table with Joshua and Brock, two of my closest friends.
They get it. They think like me.
We all call Joshua Stan, Joshua seems so formal.
My eyes are following Bridget around the reception like I’m a lovesick puppy. I’ve thought about her constantly over the last five years, but being in the same room as her and seeing her not even noticing me is a whole new level of torture.
It’s like I don’t exist to her anymore.
Maybe I don’t.
I’ve behaved like she asked and kept my distance all night. I’m still smarting from her last comment. Thank you for ruining every beautiful memory I had of you.
Have I done more damage than good by coming back?
That thought is weighing heavily on my mind.
She’s dancing with Adrian and Natasha. She’s constantly laughing and she’s sexy as hell. No matter how hard I try, I can’t take my eyes off her.
She’s more beautiful than ever.
It kills me that she’s here with someone else—someone like him.
In the real world, Eric is the kind of guy I would be friends with. Brock told me to get my ass back here because she had met someone she could actually fall for.
Someone like us.
Am I too late?
I sip my scotch as I try to block my emotions. I’ve been numbing my feelings for her for five years, and now that I’m back I just can’t get a hold on them.
I’m about to lose my living shit.
Like a bubbling pot of fury, my blood is boiling.
Have I only pushed her closer to him?
“Just call her tomorrow, man.” Brock tries to calm me.
I sit back in my chair and exhale deeply as I watch the three of them dance.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I told you years ago, mate, you should have told her then.” Stan sighs.
I scratch my head in frustration. “You know I couldn’t.”
“Are you going to tell her now?” Brock frowns.
I shake my head. “I don’t want her knowing that shit about me.”
They both nod, and we all stay lost in our own thoughts.
“Ben, is it?”
I look up to see Eric, Bridget’s boyfriend, standing over the table. I nod and raise an eyebrow in question. “Yes,” I reply dryly as I sip my drink.
My heart is still beating hard from my memories.
Get away from me before I fucking kill you.
“Mind telling me what you wanted with my girl in the church?”
My eyes flicker to Josh and Brock as they exchange looks and smirk into their drinks.
My eyes hold his. He’s got balls, I’ll give him that. Not many people take me on by choice.
“For the record, she’s my girl,” I sneer.
He fakes a smile. “Fuck off, idiot.”
I raise an eyebrow and sip my drink, our eyes locked.
“What do you want?” he snaps.
“Bridget,” I reply without hesitation.
Joshua is unable to contain his grin as his eyes flicker between the two of us.
“You can’t fucking have her.”
I sip my drink. “Watch me.”
“Outside, prick,” he growls.
I stand abruptly, and he turns and walks out the front door with me hot on his heels.
4
Bridget
I laugh as I watch Tash try to navigate the bad song. Daggy dancing doesn’t come close to describing it. She and Adrian are doing the bump.
“Houston, we have a problem.” Adrian frowns as he looks over my shoulder, across the room.
We all turn to see Eric standing over Ben’s table, looking unimpressed.
My eyes widen, and I see Brock and Joshua smirk. “Oh shit, what’s going on?”
Tash frowns as she watches.
Next minute Ben stands abruptly, and Eric and he march outside.
My face drops in horror. “What the hell is going on?”
The three of us all stand still on the spot as we watch Joshua and Brock smile at each other and stand to follow them outside.
“Fuck.” I start to run with Tash and Adrian hot on my heels. “Oh, no.”
“Damn Ben,” Adrian curses behind me. “That man is totally out of control.”
We run out into the foyer and Tash slips over on the marble floor, knocking over a stand.
“Oh, my God,” Adrian squeals as he helps her up. “Are you okay? Watch what you’re doing.”
Max frowns as he comes out behind us. “What’s going on?”
“I hate these shoes, Adrian. You try and wear these bastards next time,” Tash sputters from her place on the floor. “I’m wearing runners from here on in.”
“Well, my shoes are going in the rubbish bin after tonight,” I groan as I grab Tash’s hand. I’m not joking, they are so uncomfortable.
“Clean up here,” Max orders the two other security guards following him. They stand the signing stand back up and rearrange the floral arrangement that Tash knocked over.
“Ben’s gone crazy,” Adrian snaps. “You need to get a hold of him.”
Max breaks into a grin as Tash shakes her head in disgust, and we take off again.
We burst through the front doors and look down the front steps, but we don’t see anyone.
We look left, we look right.
Nothing.
Where are they?
I look out into the darkness with my heart hammering hard in my chest.
“Pull your fucking head in,” I hear Eric’s voice growl from around the side of the building.
“This way!” I yell.
We take off down the wide stone steps.
“Natasha. Take your shoes off!” Max calls from behind. As her security guard, he cares for nothing but her safety.
“Shut up, Max,” she cries as we run down the steps. “I’ve got bigger issues going on here.” We turn the corner to see Eric and Ben, who have a tight hold on each other’s suit lapels, as they get lost in a very heated conversation.
Adrian stops running and his face falls.
“Ben!” I yell. “Cut it out.”
“Go inside, Bridget,” Eric orders.
I look over and see Joshua and Brock standing up against the building. Brock has casually lit a cigarette, like he’s about to watch a damn theatre show.
“I’ll say this one time and one time only, prick… you stay the fuck away from Bridget,” Eric growls in Ben’s face.
“Go to Hell,” Ben sneers.
My eyes widen in horror as I run to them.
Joshua steps forward to grab me and I struggle to break free.
Eric takes a swing, and punches Ben hard in the face.
Ben hits Eric back and they begin to struggle.
Natasha screams, “Stop it. Stop it now!”
“Do something!” Adrian yells at Max.
&
nbsp; Max and the bodyguards all stand back.
I break free and sprint to them as Ben seems to gain the upper hand.
“Ben, I swear to you, if you hit him once more I will never speak to you again,” I cry.
Ben glances over at me, and his face falls as he realises what he’s just done.
Eric breaks free from Ben’s grip on his shirt and pushes Ben hard. “You’re fucked,” he growls.
Eric walks over to me. “Let’s go home,” I whisper, staring at him through my tears.
He turns to Ben. “I won’t warn you again.”
Ben glares at him, fists clenched at his sides as if restraining himself. He’s breathing deeply as adrenaline burns through his body.
I take Eric’s hand and we walk around the building as they all watch on in complete silence.
“I need to get my bag,” I tell Eric quietly.
He nods, and we walk up the steps, his hand resting gently on my waist.
I go straight to the table and grab my things, then Eric and I leave.
As we drive away I look up to the side of the building, and see Ben’s haunted face as he watches me leave with my boyfriend. Joshua, Tash, Brock, and Adrian are all with him.
He looks so sad, and I know he has nobody to blame but himself, but damn, why do I feel like the guilty one? I’ve done nothing wrong. Why do I feel like shit?
“You’re staying at my house tonight,” Eric says flatly as he turns the corner.
Rain starts to fall in heavy drops and the windscreen wipers automatically come on.
I stare at the windscreen through my tears. Does he think Ben will show up tonight while he’s at work?
Maybe I should go home, then…
I hope Ben’s okay.
Guilt hits me hard in the stomach. I shouldn’t be caring what happens to Ben.
God, what a mess.
I drop my head back to the headrest and concentrate on not blubbering like a baby.
I lie in the dark and watch the shadows from the television dance on the wall.
It’s 4:00 a.m.
I keep seeing Ben’s sad face when I was driving out with Eric. I know it shouldn’t bother me and I know I shouldn’t care.
But I do.
How do you hurt someone you care about… even when they don’t deserve for you to care anymore?
I can’t switch it off.
I keep going over that last night we were together, when he came to say goodbye.
“I look at you like I want you…” He pauses and clenches his hands at his sides. “…because I do,” he whispers. “You have no idea how badly I want you, Bridget… how hard it is to stay away.”
What did he mean when he said it was hard to stay away?
Why did he have to stay away?
I’ve thought about this a lot over the years, and I still don’t understand what he meant. I think back again.
He runs his thumb over my cheekbone as he studies my face. “I have a past, Didge. One that I don’t ever want to catch up with you,” he replies sadly. “I won’t bring that into your life.”
I shake my head. “What are you talking about? We all have a past. We can work it out together, Ben.”
“Goodbye, Bridget,” he whispers sadly. He stands, and I grab his wrist.
“No. Don’t go,” I beg as I lose control. “Don’t leave me. I love you.”
He bends, and kisses me gently. “Remember me with love, angel.”
I stare at him through my tears.
“I love you,” he whispers.
He has a past, one that he doesn’t want to catch up with me. What the hell did he mean by that? Did he mean his military life? Why would he think a past in the military is going to impact me?
It just doesn’t make any sense. I go back to his words from the other night.
“I was coming back for you sooner, but things worked out harder than I thought.”
“What things?”
“My work.”
“Fuck’s sake, Ben,” I snap, exasperated as I pull from his grip. “Speak English.”
“I want another chance.”
He said he wanted another chance. Is that why he came back after all this time?
I sit up and flick the bedside lamp on. I turn on my side and stare at the wall as I go over and over the wedding tonight, and what we said to each other.
I pick up my phone and stare at it for a while, with my mind in overdrive.
I wonder, did he go out tonight with Cam and Brock?
It’s 4:30 a.m.
I scroll through my messages between us from Friday night, and before I can stop myself I have typed out the message.
Are you awake?
I hit send before my brain catches up with my fingers. Oh no, what the hell am I doing?
My phone instantly rings and the name Ben lights up the screen.
Shit. My heart starts to race in my chest.
I pick up. “Hello,” I whisper into the darkness.
“Hi.”
My eyes close at the sound of his beautiful voice.
We both stay silent, and I twist the blankets between my fingers in the dark.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
I get a lump in my throat. “Yes,” I whisper back, although I’m really not sure.
“Are you?” I ask.
The line stays silent until he eventually replies, “Not really.”
My heart drops and I frown. “Why?”
“Because I want to be there with you,” he whispers.
The lump in my throat gets really big, and my eyes fill with tears because, damn, if this isn’t a mess. The closeness that we always had is still there between us. It’s tangible. If he hurts, I hurt. I stay silent for a moment as I try to think of an intelligent reply.
“Ben,” I sigh.
“I won’t leave again. I promise.”
The tears break the dam and roll down my face, because I want to believe him. I so desperately want to believe him.
“Ben.” I close my eyes. “We can only be friends.”
“Don’t. Don’t ask that of me.”
“But—”
He cuts me off. “I can’t watch you with someone else, Didge.”
I scrunch up my face. “Wouldn’t you rather be friends than be nothing at all?” I whisper.
He stays silent.
“You can’t keep acting the way you are, Ben.” I look around the darkened room as I try to articulate what I want to say. “If you keep acting like this, we’re going to end up hating each other.”
“I could never hate you,” he whispers.
Tears slowly roll down my face. He sounds so sad, and I know I should go, but I want to stay on the phone. This is the closest I’ve been to him for such a long time, and I just want to stay here.
Stop it.
Hang up.
“Are you at home?” he asks.
I glance around at my surroundings. I’m in Eric’s bed in Eric’s room, and I’m secretly talking to another man—a man I don’t want to get off the phone from. What kind of person am I? “I’ve got to go, Ben.”
He stays silent and I stay on the line.
Oh, God, hang up. Please… hang up. As if neither of us wants to end the call, we both wait.
“Goodnight, Didge,” he eventually whispers.
I close my eyes, and the lump in my throat is so big I can hardly speak. “Goodnight, Ben,” I whisper.
More silence.
This is ridiculous. Just do it.
I hang up, turn onto my back, and stare at the ceiling. Confusion and regret swirl around all me, and my tears run down into my ears.
What a mess.
I wake as the front door bangs open, and I roll over to pull the covers up. It’s nice and warm in here and, after not sleeping all night, I am finally comfortable. Eric marches into the room, having finished his shift. He opens the blinds forcefully and I frown.
“Good morning, Bridget.” He smiles as he puts his hands on his hip
s.
“Hmm.” I scowl with my eyes closed.
“Tell me… who is this Ben?” he asks, trying his best to act casual.
Huh? My eyes open. “What?”
“I did a little investigating last night at work. Ben used to be Joshua Stanton’s bodyguard.”
I frown harder. Damn it, I knew he wouldn’t let this go. “And?” I sigh.
“How well do you know him?”
“What?” I sit up and walk past him into the bathroom. I don’t need this crap. “Like you said, he was Joshua’s bodyguard, so I know him from that,” I call from the bathroom.
“And you went out with him?”
Fuck’s sake. I wash my hands and walk back into the bedroom.
“Bridget?”
“Kind of, yeah,” I sigh.
“How long were you with him?”
“Eric. Just drop it.”
“No, I won’t drop it. How long were you with him?”
“A couple of months. It was years ago, it doesn’t matter.” I lie back down in bed and pull the covers over myself to get away from his questioning.
He drags the blankets back off me, and his eyes hold mine. “Who ended it?”
I scratch my head in frustration. “Can we just leave the past in the past, please? I just woke up.”
“I opened up his cold case.”
“What?”
“He was suspected of murder. I opened his case back up for reinvestigation.”
“You did what?” I snap as I sit up in a rush. “What the fuck, Eric?”
His eyes hold mine. Is he baiting me right now?
“Are you that hard up for a case that you had to reopen a stupid investigation from six years ago?” I snap as I get out of bed. I don’t believe this shit.
“Tell me about this prostitute that was murdered.”
Shit, he really did look in to it. I begin to pull my clothes on, because it’s bloody cold.
“Before Joshua met Natasha, he spent a few nights with a high-class prostitute. Six months later, when he was with Natasha, she started threatening to go to public with footage she had of the two of them together if he didn’t pay her millions of dollars in bribery money.”
“Did he pay her?”
