Marx Girl

by T L Swan

  He frowns. “Ah, no. I’m going to stay at my new place tonight.”

  “But you don’t have any furniture yet?”

  I shake my head and grin as Ben rolls his eyes. “That’s okay, I don’t need furniture, I will come over tomorrow and see you.”

  “Well, Abbie and I are just in the neighbourhood. We might call by to see your place,” she continues.

  I put my hand over my mouth to stop myself from laughing. They are trying to find out where he is. This is spying at its absolute worst.

  “I’m not at home.” He frowns as he thinks. “I’m out with an old work friend.”

  “Who’s that?” Tash asks without hesitation. Honestly, does she have no shame?

  “You don’t know him, Tash,” he replies.

  “Oh.” She stays silent for a moment, and Ben smiles broadly. He’s used to her after all these years.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” he asks.

  “Hmm.” She pauses and then we can hear Abbie whisper something. “Have you seen Bridget?” she asks.

  Ben laughs, unable to help it. “No, I haven’t.”

  I scrunch my eyes shut in embarrassment. Honestly, these two are ridiculous.

  “Okay then.” She thinks for a moment again, as if distracted. “See you tomorrow night.”

  “Bye, Tash.” He hangs up. “I feel sorry for Stan tonight,” he mutters under his breath.

  “So do I.” I laugh. “So do I.”

  The restaurant is dark, almost moody, and we’re sitting in the back corner at a cosy table for two, waiting for dessert. Our conversation has been easy, fun, and it’s like a weight has been lifted from the both of us. It feels so good to talk to him, and perhaps this is what we both needed: some privacy to take the pressure off.

  “Tell me more about you.” I smile.

  Ben’s brow furrows and his back straightens.

  “Not much to tell.” He sips his wine. “Tell me about your job. How long have you been there?”

  I watch him as I sip my wine. It’s classic Ben to change the subject to be about me whenever I ask him anything about his life.

  I raise my eyebrows. “Well, my job is great.”

  He sips his beer, watching me intently. I smile into my wine glass. I had forgotten this about Ben. When I say something, he really listens. I remember the big conversations we used to have late at night about my hopes and dreams, and I wonder if I did all the talking back then, too.

  He seems to know every detail about me, but I know absolutely nothing about him. “But my boss is a complete bitch,” I add.

  He smiles cheekily and raises his eyebrow in question.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know, I think she’s going through the tunnel or something. One minute I’m the best employee she has, and the next minute I’m on her shit list.”

  He rolls his lips to stop himself from smiling. “Only you that she hates?” he questions.

  I shake my head. “Oh no, she hates everyone at one time or another, every day. We all want a dartboard in the lunchroom, with her face as the bullseye.”

  His smile does break through this time.

  I shrug. “It’s a great job and I get to travel the world, so I just have to put my head down and go to lunch at one every day.” I smile into my wine glass. “I’m hoping she gets head-hunted real soon by a large opposition company.” I sip my wine. “Or a cannibal pigmy,” I add dryly.

  He holds his beer up and we clink glasses

  My eyes hold his. “Tell me about your family,” I say.

  His face falls. “Not much to tell.” He shrugs.

  “Where do they live?” I’m so curious about his family. I’ve often wondered about them.

  His gaze drops to the table.

  I wait for a while and a frown crosses my face.

  He stays silent. I can see that he’s struggling with something internally.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He forces a smile.

  “Ben…”

  “Can we change the subject? I don’t really like talking about my family.”

  “Why not?”

  His eyes stay fixed onto the tablecloth.

  “Ben.” I grab his hand over the table. “Didn’t we just have this conversation about you talking to me?”

  He nods subtly.

  “How can I get to know you if you won’t tell me anything?” I ask softly.

  “I just…” He pauses.

  “You just what?”

  “It will just change the way you see me.”

  I squeeze his hand as I wait for him to talk. What’s he on about?

  God, this man is mercurial.

  “Nothing could change the way I see you,” I whisper softly. “Why would you even think that?”

  His eyes search mine and I know he wants to believe me.

  “This is one of those times, Ben, when you need to talk to me and let me in. How can I get to know you better if you don’t tell me anything about yourself?” I smile softly, and gently squeeze his hand.

  He watches me for a moment, and I can see his internal battle with himself until, eventually, he replies.

  “My sister died when she was twelve.”

  My face falls.

  “She was abducted.” He gets this sad look in his eyes.

  What?

  Oh, my God.

  “Oh, Ben,” I whisper. “I ‘m so sorry. ” I squeeze his hand. “How old were you when this happened?”

  “Twelve.”

  I frown as I do the math.

  “We were twins,” he says softly.

  Tears fill my eyes. Dear God.

  “My father took his own life twelve months later. He blamed himself, and couldn’t live with the guilt.”

  I squeeze his hand that bit tighter because I don’t know what to say.

  Ben stays silent.

  “And your mother?” I eventually whisper.

  “She enrolled me in the army when I was fifteen.”

  “So young?”

  His eyes meet mine. “She was dying of cancer and she knew the army would take care of me.”

  I blink to try and stop the tears as I picture a fifteen-year-old boy all alone in the world. The lump in my throat gets so big I can hardly hold it.

  “I’m so sorry, baby,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes.

  His gaze drops back to the table.

  We sit in silence for a moment as I try to process what he’s just told me. What I do say now?

  “Thank you for telling me,” I eventually say. I wanted to know his history, but now that I do know it I feel guilty for making him think about it.

  He nods once, his eyes downcast.

  I watch him struggle—this big, beautiful, dominant man—and now I see him so clearly… a scared fifteen-year-old boy. It breaks my heart that he hasn’t told me any of this before now. I need to change the subject, but I’m too rattled to even try.

  He watches me, as if expecting me to run, and I scramble around in my bag for a tissue.

  “Who knows about this?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Nobody.”

  “Nobody? Like… nobody at all?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s not something I want anyone to know about.”

  I grab his hand again as my eyes search his, and I suddenly feel so close to him that I want to crawl into his lap and comfort him.

  “Well…” I pause. “Your mum must be really proud of the man you’ve become.”

  He drops his head and I quickly swipe a wayward tear from my cheek.

  Ben stays silent, and I know I need to change the subject. “Do you need help blowing up that air mattress?”

  His eyes meet mine and he smirks.

  “Because I am full of hot air, you know.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

  His mouth breaks into a breathtaking smile, and I feel my heart somersault in my chest.

  “Probably.”

  I point to my plate. “I’m eating this chocolate cake and the
n I’m blowing up your bed.”

  “You are if Natasha and Abbie haven’t broken into my apartment and done it already.” He smirks.

  I roll my eyes. “Knowing those two, it’s a strong possibility,” I reply dryly.

  He laughs out loud, and it’s like a drug to my system.

  Our eyes linger on each other and my heart hurts as regret hangs heavily between us.

  Why didn’t he tell me this before?

  I just want to hold him in my arms and tell him that everything is going to be all right, but I can’t. I can’t offer him my heart as a sacrificial lamb to heal his.

  I’m not that stupid anymore.

  Unfortunately, it’s now official…

  I know I’m still in love with Ben. Every damaged inch of him.

  And I know it’s too late for us. I know I can’t take him back, but looking at him now across the table has me feeling a closeness that has always been there between us.

  An empathy, a friendship, and a heartbreak waiting to happen.

  I internally kick myself for putting myself in this position.

  Go home, Bridget, and don’t look back.

  7

  Bridget

  The walk up the corridor to my apartment is long. Ben wouldn’t let me help him inflate his bed, so we ended up coming straight back to my place. At this very moment I have no idea what I’m doing; I’m a hot mess. Confused doesn’t even come close to describing how I’m feeling. My mind keeps going over and over everything, and I have no idea how to decipher it.

  Should I ask him in?

  No… definitely not.

  I fumble about in my bag for my keys and dig them out. “Here they are.” I smile up at him nervously.

  Ben stands still, his hands in his pockets. I frown as I get an image of him going back to his dark and lonely apartment to blow up a bed alone.

  All this information about him tonight has left me emotionally weak.

  I can’t stand it. I can’t stand that he lost his family when he was just fifteen.

  I can’t stand that he doesn’t know how to talk to me.

  No wonder he can’t communicate. When his family was alive to show him how to talk, he was too young to understand.

  I’m sure the army didn’t teach him anything about his emotions.

  My eyes search his and I just want to ask him in.

  But I know I can’t.

  Fuck’s sake, why is he so hard to push away?

  I open my door and he stands behind me, close… too close.

  I close my eyes as I feel the heat his body is emitting. His breath on my neck sends goose bumps scattering down my arms.

  My heart starts to beat faster and faster. Stop it, stop it, stop it.

  I turn in a rush. “Thanks for dinner.”

  A frown crosses his face before he has time to mask it, and he fakes a smile and nods.

  “I’ll…” I pause because I just really want to ask him in… no! “I’ll see you at dinner at Mum’s on Sunday?” I ask hopefully.

  He nods as he takes a step back from me.

  My body screams at the distance between us. “Sure,” he replies.

  His eyes hold mine, and I know we both want the same thing.

  Stop it.

  “Bye, Ben.” I force the words from my lips.

  “Bye, Didge,” he whispers softly, and with one last lingering look he turns and walks down the hall. I watch him until he disappears.

  Half of me wants to chase him down and go with him. Half of me… who am I kidding? All of me wants to go.

  Too bad.

  Get over him, Bridget. He’s just no good for you.

  I sit at my desk and stare out the window. Ben is playing heavily on my mind. My phone dances across the table and I turn it over. The name ‘Eric’ lights up the screen. I close my eyes in regret and let it ring out. He’s called me five times today, as if he can somehow sense that I went out with Ben last night.

  I feel bad for not answering, but I have no idea what to say to him or what the hell is going on with me. The perfect guy is calling me and I’m letting it ring out, all while thinking about a man who is completely wrong for me on every level. I stare into space. Aren’t you supposed to grow out of this shit when you hit eighteen?

  I’m twenty-seven years old. I’m supposed to have my shit together by now. I’m supposed to know what’s good for me and want that in my life.

  I’ve eaten three donuts, two cupcakes, and I’ve drunk four cups of coffee. Operation Slim Down is completely out the window. I’m pretending to research locations for a customer, but really, I just can’t be fucked to work.

  Ben’s words just keep going over and over in my head. I hate thinking about them. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to feel them.

  I think back to the story he told me about his family, and sadness sweeps over me again. I feel so heartbroken for him. He was just a little boy. His beloved twin sister. I know what it feels like to lose a sister, but a twin is a special bond.

  I frown and tap my pen on the desk as I think. Uneasiness sweeps over me.

  Oh no.

  Oh, my God.

  He pulled away from me when my sister went missing. His sister went missing, too, and she died.

  I sit up in my chair as I have an epiphany. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

  He handled it so badly back then because he was dealing with his own sister’s death all over again.

  It was too close to home for him.

  I tear up as I imagine what he must have been going through at that time, all alone. Nobody knew any of this.

  He blamed himself for my sister’s disappearance. Does he blame himself for his sister’s disappearance, too?

  At the time, we were all so frantic; of course he wouldn’t have told us about his story and its outcome.

  I put my head in my hands. God, this is a breakthrough. A horrible breakthrough.

  All this time I thought he pulled away from me because he didn’t care, when maybe… he cared too much.

  My eyes fill with tears.

  Fuck’s sake, Ben, why didn’t you just talk to me?

  We could have helped each other.

  “Don’t forget about tonight.” Louisa smiles as she walks past.

  I frown. “Huh? What’s tonight?”

  “We have drinks for Marci leaving, remember?”

  I screw up my face. “Oh, that. I completely forgot.”

  She points at me. “Don’t even think about it. You’re coming. Everyone has already pulled out and now there’s only the six of us. I feel sorry for her, so you have to come. She’s excited.”

  “Ugh.” Drinks with work friends is the very last thing I feel like doing. “Fine,” I snap.

  “I’ll pick you up, so you can drink,” she offers, to sweeten the deal.

  I roll my eyes and blow out a deep breath. “Okay, great. A hangover tomorrow at work will fix everything,” I mutter under my breath. She raises a cheeky eyebrow before disappearing back to her desk.

  “Are you going to lunch?” Mary asks. “The quicker you get back, the quicker I get to go.”

  I glance at the time on my computer. Oh, jeez, the day has been a total blur. “Yes, I’ll go now,” I reply, distracted. I pack up my desk. “Back in an hour.” I grab my bag and walk downstairs with my mind in overdrive. To be honest, I’m so full of donuts that lunch isn’t appealing at all, but at least I get out of here for a while. What I really need to do is go to a bar with Adrian, Tash, and Abs, and discuss this at length with them over a very strong alcoholic beverage or ten.

  They would know what to do… maybe.

  No! Keep them out of this.

  This has nothing to do with anyone but me. And maybe Ben. And maybe Eric. And maybe my whole future. Oh fuck, what a mess. I wave at Bethany on reception and make my way through the doors and out onto the street.

  And there he stands.

  Ben is leaning against the wall next to the door, and my br
eath catches.

  Wearing a white T-shirt and black jeans with his black baseball cap in place, he is one hell of a fine specimen. I have to stop myself from swooning like a love-struck teenager.

  “Hello.” I smile up at him as I get that nervous, excited feeling deep in my stomach.

  He smiles softly, and I feel it all the way to my bones. “Hi, Didge.” He’s holding a brown paper bag.

  I try to think of something intelligent to say. Nope, I got nothing. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He bites his bottom lip, as if stopping himself from saying something, and holds out the brown paper bag. “I brought you afternoon tea.”

  I take the bag from him and peer in to find a chocolate éclair. I smile up at him. “I’m going to get fat if you keep buying me these.”

  “You would be perfect whatever size you were.” His eyes search mine and I feel the ice around my heart start to thaw.

  Don’t be sweet. Don’t you dare be sweet.

  “That’s very thoughtful, thank you.” Good manners take over and I go to give him a quick hug, but he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. He’s warm and big and strong, and he feels so good. We stay like that for an extended time. My eyes close, and damn…

  There isn’t a better place on Earth than Ben’s arms.

  Cut it out.

  “How did you know I was having lunch now?” I ask as I pull out of his grip, but he catches my hand in his before I can think. Oh no, he’s touchy today. How the hell am I supposed to resist touchy Ben?

  “You told me last night that you have lunch at one every day.” He lifts my hand and kisses it. I watch him as I feel my heart somersault in my chest.

  Why does he have to be so fucking gorgeous?

  “Do you want to have lunch with me?” I whisper before I can stop myself.

  “I want to do everything with you.”

  Oh, boy.

  He pulls me closer to him by my hand, and I stare up at him.

  He’s going to kiss me. He’s going to kiss me. Do it, do it, do it.

  His lips take mine softly and his hands snake around my waist. He pulls back to look at me as his thumb dusts tenderly over my cheek. I can feel his erection through his jeans and I feel like I can’t breathe. “What do you want for lunch, angel?” he whispers.

  You… I want you. All of you, right here, right now.