by Shey Stahl
For me, this is the end.
I could write THE END, but is an end really the end?
July 6, 2012
(4 hours and 18 minutes after handing Bensen the journal)
DID I really just hand that over?
Another shot.
Was I thinking?
Another shot.
Clearly not.
Another shot.
What the fuck was wrong with you?
Another shot.
Stop drinking. It was for the best.
Another shot.
“Is he reading it?” Ivey asked, getting inside my car with me. I’d been in there since I handed Bensen the journal four hours ago—just me and that bottle of Fireball I took. I hated Fireball, too. And cinnamon.
“Who knows,” I shrugged, taking another shot. I noticed the sun was rising now. “He could be making a fire with it right now for all I know.”
“Okay.” Ivey reached for the bottle. “Get yourself together. I’m getting married in a few hours. Be a good friend.”
“I’ve been a shitty friend, haven’t I?” I got right in her face. “Tell me the truth.”
“Not any worse than me.” She laughed, pushing my whiskey-soaked, teary face away. “I’m marrying a guy you messed around with all through high school.”
I did get my shit together and eventually got out of my car and took a shower.
And then I ran into my dad, getting dressed for the wedding. He was there on Aunt Megs’s couch, tie in hand, looking up at me.
“You look pretty, Sophie,” he said, smiling.
We got to talking, something we seldom did these days when he said something I never expected.
“I only ever want what’s best for you, Sophie.”
I laughed, the alcohol still in my system speaking for me. “As long as that was never Bensen.”
“He was never good for you, and you know it.”
Before an all-out argument could start, because I was in that kind of mood, I walked away and onto the dock.
I thought for sure no one would be out there, which was what made it the best spot to think. The boats on the lake that usually provided me with the calm were now vaguely annoying.
“Stupid. So stupid,” I said to myself, bringing my hands to my face.
“I heard that.” A relaxed voice spoke from behind.
“Hey Brady,” I said, tilting my head back to look up at him. He looked older and more and more like Bensen every day.
“Long day?” He sat beside me, his long legs propped up by his bare feet. Leaning back, he rested his weight on his hands.
“You have no idea.” My heart continued to pound in my chest, my eyes burning from the tears, scorched by the brightness of the day.
“Uh, it’s only just began, and the wedding hasn’t even started.” He laughed. “Are you drunk?”
“Yes.”
Brady looked over at me, assessing me with a glance. “What happened?”
“In college, I wrote down my life, with Bensen, in a book, and then threw it, at Bensen,” I blurted out.
“Oh.” Brady kind of chuckled, as though it wasn’t funny, but still was.
“Yep.” My voiced seemed tired, brain muddy, confused, and conflicted. It was exactly how I felt.
Brady exhaled, long and drawn out, shaking his head. “You love him?”
“I wish I didn’t.”
He looked at me patiently. I felt my mouth open, wanting to say something, but no words came to mind. I think I was all out of words. It did take everything I had not to break down and cry, though. For some reason I still wanted to cry. I thought that was probably why I came out here. To cry.
“Sophie …” Brady looked upset for a moment and then corrected his features. “Bensen can be an asshole, you’ve always known that.”
Looking at him, it was hard not to see Bensen in his appearance. Not quite as tall, not as hard in the way that made Bensen unapproachable to most, but he had the same eyes, same dark lashes. It was easy to see how much older he was. He wasn’t that nine-year-old boy anymore. He was an eighteen-year-old man.
“Did he apologize?” Brady asked eventually.
“No.” I felt so defeated when I said that.
“He wants to.”
“Says who?”
“Him, last night, when we were right here on this very dock talking.” I remember seeing them last night.
I thought about it. An apology from him, but would I even accept it? Could he apologize enough that I would forgive him?
“What would you do if he did? Apologize, that is.”
“Be a total girl and probably forgive him.” There was no sense in lying to Brady. “But it wouldn’t change anything. He’s moved on. He’s still him, and I’m still me. I’m just a kid to him, and I think I always will be.”
“I know a thing or two about being just a kid,” Brady said, speaking the truth. The thing was, Brady knew exactly what I was going through. He loved a girl name Lenny, a friend of Ivey’s, for as far back as I could remember. He was ten when he first met her at the lake. She was thirteen. He worshiped her, and she never gave him the time of day. He knew, all right.
I never thought about anyone else going through what I was going through, but the fact that Brady understood was exactly what I needed.
“I’m not sure what to do,” I finally said, wishing he’d tell me.
“Just give him some time to sort out what he’s going through.”
Again, I never thought that Bensen would need to sort anything out.
Brady sighed. “Do you want to be with him?”
One would think it was a deceptively easy question to answer, but it wasn’t. I thought hard, the answer was simple but impossible to comprehend. “I don’t know. I want to be happy.”
“You don’t need Bensen to be happy.”
He looked at me seriously, and I knew I wasn’t fooling him. “You know he never meant to hurt you. If he does come back to talk to you, hear him out. You may not like what he has to say, but hear him out.”
“Did he put you up to this?”
Brady laughed. “No. He’d probably beat my ass if he knew I was here with you, but who knows where he is. He showed up drunk, holding a book.” He side-eyed me with a smile. “Told me some shit about him fucking up. Then he left. I’m wondering if he’s even coming back for the wedding.” Brady shook his head, giving a quick glance over his shoulder at the house. “Ivey will kill him if he misses it.”
“He’s not coming back,” I deduced.
“Bensen was a dick, Sophie, but he did love you. Even from the start.”
“How do you know that?” It was difficult talking to Brady like this. He was still a kid to me, but suddenly he had facial hair and looked just like Bensen and had insight I didn’t. That was hard for me.
“It was pretty obvious.” His heartfelt smile melted me a little. “He’s not a bad guy. Just confused.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“He never let go,” Brady said, finding a smile. “He loved you … loves you,” he corrected. “But he doesn’t know how to show that.”
“Did he talk to you after he left?”
“He called me on my birthday a few weeks after he left, but then it was probably a couple months before I heard from him.” Picking at the dock, he chipped a sliver of wood away and tossed it in the water at our feet. “He’s been working up in Gainesville for a couple years now. Keeping a good job, too.”
It was hard to ask, but I needed to know. “Did he talk about me?”
“No,” he said honestly. “Just that he fucked up that night.”
He left after that. Ivey was looking for Bensen, and Brady felt the need to calm her down, something I clearly wasn’t doing very well today. It was her wedding day, and her maid of honor was punking out on her.
I watched Brady disappear into the house before I grabbed my bottle and headed back to Aunt Megs’s house. Maybe Sadie would want to get drunk with me. She was always
good for that. Then I remembered she went and got herself knocked up.
Stupid.
A COLE family wedding was elegant to say the least. What wasn’t as classy was the fact that I had drunk an entire fifth of Fireball since I arrived at the lake house.
With that fifth of whiskey came my spunky side. Not only did I feel completely out of place, but I was ready to start a fucking brawl.
Ivey felt the same, and it was her family and wedding. Poor girl. She looked pissed at her husband-to-be for making her have a wedding instead of getting married in Vegas.
I’d be pissed, too, if I had to wear that dress. She looked like the Michelin tire man with all those ruffles. She wasn’t impressed, that was obvious.
Weddings in our family were nothing like this.
When Stephanie got married, my dad was so shitfaced he tripped walking her down the aisle. Kaden family weddings were a disaster.
I was in the living room with relatives of the Cole family, most of whom I didn’t know.
I was pretty sure I was supposed to be doing something, at least I thought I was, holding a bouquet of flowers and all, but no, I was holed up in the corner, leaning against Ivey’s grandma, doing shots with her.
The wedding would be starting shortly outside the Cole’s lake home, followed quickly by the reception, all in an attempt to get it in before the weather changed. I felt like the weather tonight. Impending doom.
Bensen came walking in with Brady; both were dressed in tuxes. Bensen looked amazing. Fucking amazing. Tan skin on black fabric, scruffy face, hair tousled.
Stupid. No one should look that good.
Look at me. I was a train wreck in my lilac tear-stained dress.
Best case scenario … he loved me and finally owned up to it.
Worst case scenario … he never did.
I wanted to punch him in the face for making me think about the worst case scenario. I didn’t though. Instead I turned to booze. It was a wedding after all. Wasn’t everyone supposed to be drunk?
As I sat there beside Grandma Della and our booze, Bensen came over.
He was walking toward me, book in his left hand, tucked to his side, the way only Bensen Cole could walk, making sleepy, slow steps look sexy.
I still wanted to punch him. And he had my journal with him. The thought of him reading it, reliving all those memories and knowing me down to my soul had my heart pounding.
“Just talk to him, Bensen,” his mom said, shoving at his shoulder. “He’s your cousin.”
“That’s never gonna happen,” Bensen returned, looking back at the bar. He hesitated for another moment, just like he’d done that night he left me. This time he chose the bar.
Nothing had changed. This was his fuck-you of choice.
Grayden’s eyes flashed with anger. “You know what, Bensen, fuck you.” Bensen’s eyes shot to his, fire and ice. “Fuck you, because you were the one that agreed and just like every other cliché out there, and everything you say you live by, you fell for the kid sister whether your cocky ass wants to admit it or not. Don’t put your shit on me.”
Bensen spun around to face Grayden, grabbing him by his tie. “That shit is on me, motherfucker.” His voice was sharp but wavering. Brady stepped forward as did Robbie and attempted to push Bensen away, but he got right back in Grayden’s face. “It’s because of you. Remember that, this was because of you!”
When Bensen let go, he offered a few more words in Grayden’s ear that I couldn’t hear, and then turned to me, leaving Grayden and everyone else dumbfounded at his outburst.
What. The. Fuck?
Bensen surprised me when he gripped the journal a little tighter and walked toward me as if he was going to say something. His left hand reached out, and he handed me the journal.
His grandma looked up at him and then to me, frowning. “I thought this was a wedding, Bensen? Why are you giving her a yearbook?”
I patted Grandma’s head softly, and she laid her head back down, going to asleep, I assumed.
Bensen smiled at his grandma and then looked back at me as I took the journal from him, our fingers grazing slightly.
When I looked at him, his eyes filled with regret. Running his hands over his face, groaning, he seemed torn at what he wanted to say. He wanted to say something. Staring at me, blues so deep and tortured I feared they’d never be free, he hesitated.
He moved away, back at least a foot, and then looked at me again, sighing, before he turned and walked away. Again. Heartbroken again. But when he turned his back on me again, there was a sense of relief knowing my tears had finally dried.
Fuck me for ever believing I meant something to him.
Fuck me for wanting to mean something.
Fuck me for being so naïve.
Fuck you for making me believe.
Fuck you for pushing me to be something to you.
Just … fuck. Fuck … fuck … fuck.
I was still in my fuck speech when Grayden made his way over to me with his wife. Yeah, stupid fuck got married.
“What Grayden?” I snapped impatiently. “What the fuck do you want?”
There was a lot of fucks happening right now.
“Jesus Sophie.” Grayden sighed, putting his hands on his hips, a beer still in his right hand. The wedding hadn’t even started and everyone had drinks. “I was considering apologizing to you, but I guess even that pisses you off.”
“Don’t spin that shit on me, Grayden,” I scoffed. “I wouldn’t know that’s what you’re trying to do anyhow. You’ve never apologized to anyone your entire life. Why start now?”
Grayden shook his head and exhaled slowly. “I’m trying to be different,” he said roughly. “And I really fucked things up between you and your boy. I know you’re angry.”
“What?” We stared at each other, his eyes flashed with regret. I didn’t know what he knew, and that was clear.
Grayden looked down at his shoes, swallowing hard. “I uh … maybe Bensen should talk to you.”
“Well, Bensen says he doesn’t remember me. So spill your fucking guts right now.” I was ready to throw down. I even stood up, ready to fight. Well I tried. All that alcohol was starting to get to me.
Ivey came rushing out, crying, and holding her Michelin tire dress. “Sophie, get your ass in here!”
I swayed slightly holding onto Grandma Della’s fragile arm for support. “I’m really not bridesmaid material today.”
“Well that’s a good thing because your drunk ass is the maid of honor! Now get in there right now!”
I looked back at Grayden only to see him running away. Lost my chance to beat his ass, so I went and started my duties as the bridesmaid … or maid of honor.
MY DUTIES as maid of honor meant taking a few more shots—or at least that was a duty for myself. After putting my journal back in the front seat of my car, I made my way to Ivey’s room with my bottle of Fireball. What was left of it anyway. I planned on finishing it off.
Ivey had other ideas. “I need you to walk down the aisle with him.”
Was she fucking serious?
“No way.” I shook my head, tucking my bottle in my bag so my mom wouldn’t find it and steal it. She seemed to think she knew what was best for me today. “Not happening. I’m not the one getting married. You are insane?” I was shaking my head so much I was making myself dizzy.
“One of Wyatt’s groomsmen has the flu and couldn’t make it, so Bensen stepped in.”
My eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. Wyatt would never agree to that.”
Ivey raised an eyebrow and lifted her dress in an aggravated motion. “Do you really think he has any room for negotiation today?”
Shrugging, I slouched against the wall where I was sitting in her room trying to apply make-up. “I guess not. But I’m still not doing it.” I stood up, swaying a little, but standing made me appear more stable. At least I thought so.
When we got downstairs and the wedding was just about to begin, Ivey cornered me agai
n, pointing at Bensen standing against the wall, his head hung, staring at his feet. “Walk with him, or I will never forgive you for this.” She pointed to the bottle I got out again.
She had a point.
“Walking.” I took another swig from my bottle only to have Grandma Della walk by and take it, mumbling something about bullshit traditions before dumping the flower girl’s basket of flowers out on the floor.
Ivey looked at me and pointed. “Get over there.”
I did as she said, but I wasn’t going to enjoy it.
Bensen walked toward me, and as I hooked my arm around his, I looked around. Then he was beside me, keeping my gaze much longer than he had any right to. The warmth of his body felt like acid on my skin, though he was barely touching my arm. And even though I hated to admit it, he was still that shining star in the dark I couldn’t look away from.
I tried to breathe through my frustration when the music started. Ivey noticed and glared. I winked at her.
Bensen looked over at me, smiling tightly, like he wanted to say something, but it pinched, hurt too much.
“Nothing to say?” I asked him as we started to walk down the pebble stoned path leading to the archway facing the lake. The sun was setting now, little slivers of chalky pink and purple peeking through slate gray.
Bensen tilted his head toward me to listen, but he continued to face forward.
“Not right now,” he replied, low-toned and turning slightly, he quirked an eyebrow.
“Pussy.” Shaking my head, I sighed. “Fucking pussy.”
Bensen laughed, mostly under his breath. He nodded, checking our surroundings. “Okay,” he said easily, tightening his elbow to his side to pinch my hand in place.
Touching his body, even if it was just his arm, felt unfamiliar and inaccessible. I didn’t want to be touching him, but with all the Fireball, he had to keep me from face-planting a few times.
And when I did manage to look up, I saw people stealing glances my way. Some just stared where others gave an open mouthed, “What?” Probably in regards to my appearance.
When we got to the arbor, he let me go, and then there was the awkward staring at each other since we technically had to face one another.
