Before and Ever Since (9781101612286) (17 page)

“Kevin—”

“Baby, please,” he whispered, taking her face in his hands and leaning his forehead to hers. “I'm sorry.”

“No,” I choked out, watching Ben's face in the window. I head-jerked from the couple in front of me to where he sat just out of their sight. As Kevin kissed her, the tears fell down my cheeks, hot and scalding. “No, Emily!” I yelled. “Pull back! Ben's right there!”

Ben's face went cold. I recognized it. It was the one he had every time we got near this subject. The same glazed-over shell of pain that he'd get every time his father beat the shit out of him.

That damn kiss went on too long. I yelled at them to hurry and get back to the fighting, but I knew better. I knew I wasn't changing history. And as I pleaded with other-me to no avail, I watched Ben leave.

You weren't alone. You chose Kevin.

“No!” I wailed, falling to my knees. It was my fault, all along. He didn't stay long enough to see—

“Stop that!” she said—finally, but too late. She pushed him back and wiped her face. “You don't get to do that anymore.”

Kevin was crying. “Please don't say that, Em. I know you still love me.”

“I did,” she said. “But you killed that. A little bit each time, till now there's nothing left.” She hugged her arms around herself and walked to the window—to the window! Fifteen seconds too late, she walked to the fucking window. “Please leave, Kevin. We're done.”

“I don't believe that.”

“You never do,” she said, her voice a monotone. “Now, I don't care.”

“Emily—”

“Bye.”

After several moments of head-hanging and tear-wiping, he trudged out. Other-me sat on the window seat with a huge sigh, her face in her hands. When she lifted it, she let the smile return and gazed out the window, remembering again.

“He's—not coming back, you stupid girl,” I spat. “You let that idiot in for too damn long, and Ben—” My stomach burned as I said his name. I couldn't believe it had all come down to that one moronic moment. Twenty years of separation because he reacted too fast and I didn't react fast enough. “Oh my God.”

He mercifully answered, because the blackness and the ringing and the noise and the tightness descended on me all at once, sucking me back with an attitude.

•   •   •

I was alone.

I blinked around at the room that had been my haven as a child, had been my gateway to freedom, and now was the portal to a memory I could never fix. Tears streamed down my face, sobs stuck in my throat as I struggled for normal breathing. I sank to the floor as my knees gave way.

“Okay, that's it,” I said, hiccupping. “I've had enough.” I grabbed the comforter off the bed nearby and yanked, sending pillows flailing in all directions. I pulled it to me and leaned my head on the floor, pulling the soft cloth around me. “I can't do this anymore, God. Please be done.”

I thought of my life and what I'd done with it after Ben left. Marrying Kevin, having Cassidy, working as a receptionist till I could afford night classes for real estate. Driving to dance recitals and softball games and divorcing Kevin. Nothing special. Certainly no African adventures or Egyptian archaeological digs. But a life that gave me Cassidy.

If Ben would have stayed, the only thing that would have changed was the man. My heart hurt at the thought of that. I could have lived my life with that man. Been a family that I didn't have to lie about. How different would we have been? How different would Cassidy have been? How stupid were we?

I got to my feet and wiped my face, then snuck down the hall to the bathroom, not sure where Ben was. I did quick repair and then went looking. He wasn't in the entryway, and his paint supplies were propped on a workhorse over some plastic sheeting. I peeked out the door, careful not to disturb the knocker in case it alerted Mom.

His truck was gone. That was okay, I knew where he lived.

CHAPTER

15

B
EN'S HOUSE BEING ONLY A FEW BLOCKS AWAY DIDN'T LEAVE ME
much practice time. There is an argument to be made that I didn't have to leave right away, either, but once I knew he was gone I couldn't get in my car fast enough.

As I pulled into his driveway, I winced at the crunching gravel under the tires, knowing I'd just knocked down my thinking time by half. I had no idea what to say.
I didn't choose Kevin, you stupid moron,
probably wasn't the best way to start.

I walked slowly, knowing he already knew I was there. I wasn't even sure why, other than the need to set the record straight. He needed to know. Or maybe I just needed to say it. Still, he didn't swing the door open ahead of time, he didn't stand there waiting for me. Maybe he was going to make me sweat it. Or maybe he didn't care anymore.

I shouldn't have cared, either. The one thing I was doing with absolute certainty—hunting him down to rehash history—was the one thing I knew better than to do. And yet, there I was on his doorstep. Not knocking, just standing. Wishing for a bench or somewhere to sit and sort out my words. I swiped fingers under my eyes and glanced back toward my car, giving myself one last chance to bail, but then the door finally opened.

I swung around, greeted by a very closed-off face and crossed arms.

“Hey.”

“What do you want, Em?” he said, his voice low and weary. “We've already done this.”

I shook my head. “Not this, we haven't.”

He sighed like I'd just signed him up for the draft and rubbed his eyes. “What now? Where did you go?”

“The morning after.”

“Fantastic.”

“Ben,” I said, stepping forward. “You were there.”

“I'm aware of that.”

I held my hands up. “Well, I wasn't. But this time I saw you.”

He turned around to walk back in. “What difference does it make?” He motioned with his hand. “Come in if you need to ramble, otherwise, I'm watching a movie.”

“A—movie?” I asked, taking tentative steps forward to follow him.

“I decided I'm taking the day off,” he said, landing on his couch. The television screen was paused in an unfortunate facial pose for some man about to lose an eye.

I allowed myself a slow, steadying breath in and out while he fiddled with the remote. I looked from the screen to the picture on the mantel. The charcoal one I knew instinctively he'd done himself, of the river and the dock. A memory he pulled right out of his head and put on paper forever. He hit play and let the guy have his eye gouged out before turning back to where I stood standing behind the couch. Resignedly, he paused it again.

“What?”

I studied his face, the way his jaw worked when he was irritated. Something I managed to see a lot of.

“You left too early.”

His eyebrows knitted over his nose. “I told you, I decided to take the day off. I told your mom.”

I shook my head before he ever finished. “Not today.
That
day.”

If a look could be a groan, he had it. “Emily, I already told you I wasn't going there with you.”

I walked around to stand in front of where he was sprawled across his couch, legs and arms spread over pillows. I knelt so that we were more eye level.

“You left too damn early,” I repeated.

“I saw enough.”

“You bailed without having any faith in me.”

His eyes flashed. “Okay, damn it, you insist on the play-by-play?” He swung his legs down so that I had to scoot back. “I came back to surprise you. To be spontaneous. To tell you I suddenly couldn't stand to be away from you.”

I breathed faster, trying to keep anything from showing.

“But you weren't alone,” he said.

“No, I wasn't,” I agreed. “I was fighting with Kevin.”

“Not for long,” he said, his voice monotone. “I may not remember a conversation from last month but I remember that day vividly.”

“And if you'd stayed fifteen seconds longer,” I said, hearing the shake come into my voice, “we would have been talking about it
together
over the last two decades.”

There was a pause, and his cocky anger fizzled slightly in his eyes as he tried to make sense of what I said. “What are you talking about?”

“I told him no, Ben.”

“And accidentally married him anyway?” he said, the sarcasm coming back.

I closed my eyes and listened to the air coming in and out. “No,” I whispered. “That was two months later.” When I opened my eyes, hot tears spilled over. “I never knew you were there, Ben. I never knew you left. But I saw it today. You left the window right before I told him we were over and to leave, that I didn't love him anymore.” I blinked more tears as they came. “And then I sat on that damn window seat all day, waiting for you, because you said you were coming. I slept on the roof that night. Waited again the next day, till I finally went to Bobby's and found out you were gone.”

I saw the different stages roll past in his face. Denial, question, realization.

“I didn't choose him, Ben. I chose you,” I whispered, not able to see him clearly anymore. “I—thought you—”

“You thought I changed my mind,” he said, like he was thinking out loud. He sat back in the cushions and put his palms against his forehead. “Jesus.”

I rose slowly to my feet and wiped at my face, thinking I had to look like an alien after all the crying. “I just felt you should know.”

His gaze followed me up. “So you ended up with him, why, then?”

I licked my lips and hoped he'd assume the Kevin angle. “I ended up pregnant,” I said quickly, averting my eyes. “He insisted on making it legal and I was too scared and clueless to do otherwise.”

“Well, then it turned out as it should have,” he said, bringing my attention back to him.

“What?”

“You had a kid together, Em,” he said, still sunk back against the dark chocolate leather. “What we had wasn't important.” He flipped a hand sideways. “We both moved on.”

Acid pushed an ugly laugh up my throat. “Wasn't important? We moved on?” I gestured behind me. “Is that why you drew a picture of our dock to keep in your house? You could add one of the roof and have our whole history.”

He moved his line of vision past me to the picture, and his flippant air went somewhere else.

I walked away, not feeling my steps, not feeling my feet, not feeling the air around me. I walked out the door and left it open, not stopping until I was inside my car. I never looked behind me once I got the car moving down the street. I never checked to see if he watched me leave.

•   •   •

I
STARED SIDEWAYS AT
C
ASSIDY'S GIANT COLLAGE FOR AN HOUR
from my spot on my pillow on my couch. At the pictures of her and Kevin at different events, at various ages. I closed my eyes. He would have never had that opportunity to be her father if Ben would have stayed, but Ben never had the chance at all.

My eyes felt so puffy and worn out, I just wanted to sleep. I wanted it to take me deep down where the fingers of sleep grab you. I'd changed into pajamas the moment I walked in the door, deciding I needed a break from everything. From Ben, from that house, from my job—although to be honest, I'd kind of already been doing that. From my family, from my life. I thought about watching TV, but I ended up lying there with the remote in my hand, never turning it on. I wanted to pass out and not dream, just sleep, so I clamped my eyes shut tight and tried to force it, but the ringing of my doorbell made me give up.

“Ugh!” I moaned out load, wondering why other people were home in the middle of the day like me. Didn't other people have real jobs with real hours? I lay there for a minute, under the premise of maybe-they-would-go-away, but then the bell rang again.

Rolling out from under my favorite quilt, I went from knees to feet and trudged to the door, feeling twice my age and never giving any thought to who it might be. Honestly, with my luck lately, I figured it would be Kevin again.

I unlocked the latch and opened it without looking out the window, and then stood there wishing for sexier pajamas when it was Ben.

“Hey,” I said.

I felt every nuance of the word as I forced my tongue around it. Because he wasn't just standing there. He was standing there with one arm leaning on the house, looking like he might fall over if he didn't. His expression was hard and intense and raw, but worn out, as if he'd fought himself to come over. His eyes panned my red flannel pj's, and I held my chin up anyway.

“Were you asleep?”

Was I asleep. “I decided to take a day off, too,” I said.

He nodded slightly but fixed his eyes on mine and didn't say anything. I gripped the door handle in my left hand and squeezed to help the anxiety.

Finally, his eyes closed, as if he were struggling with something. When he opened them, the look pierced right through me. “Em, I don't want to waste any more years,” he said, the words barely making sound.

All the air went out of me, and tears instantly filled my eyes. Again. Damn it.
Shut the door
, my brain said.
Close it, and walk away. Don't listen. Don't say a word
.

I didn't. I didn't say anything, I just walked into his arms and wrapped mine around him, inside his old blue jean jacket. It was warm and familiar, oddly enough, and as I buried my face in his chest, I felt him take a long, deep breath. He pulled me tight against him, lowering his face to my hair and whispering my name.

I felt the kisses in my hair, soft and moving toward my face as his hand wound into my hair and held my head. All the reasons not to be there were waving in the back of my mind, but it felt so right, so normal to be in his arms like that. We fit into each other perfectly, and suddenly I couldn't let go. I wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever.

I hadn't opened my eyes. I was a little afraid to—afraid of what I'd see. Scared of seeing my own anxiety reflected in his eyes. Of seeing the raw everything that we were, exposed again. But as he trailed his lips down my forehead to my nose, and pulled back to look at me, I had to look.

And the tears in his eyes did me in. I broke.

“Ben,” I whispered, brushing his lips with mine.

Both of his hands cradled my head as he kissed me back. Teasing my lips once, twice, three times. On the fourth, I pulled him against me and he made a rumbling sound deep in his chest as he deepened his kiss and claimed my mouth.

I felt that kiss in the soles of my feet.

His kisses make your clothes melt off
. Oh, I had the feeling they were about to. It was so slow and delicious, like he was tasting everything, memorizing my mouth. I didn't know about my clothes, but the rest of me melted into him. When we finally came up for air, breathing like we'd just run a marathon, his hands shook. He traced my cheek, my lips, but his eyes never left mine.

“Probably—should come inside,” I managed, vaguely aware that we were on my porch.

He picked me up off my bare feet and walked into the house, with my arms around his neck and my fingers in his hair. He kicked the door closed and let me down slowly, letting me slide down his body. That was it.

I was on fire for him. I pulled his face down with me and kissed him with all the passion I had burning inside me. Everything that had lain dormant for the past twenty years came raging to the surface. Ben responded the same, diving deep and aggressive. When he pulled his mouth away, he trailed down my jawline, down the side of my neck, moving my hair aside to taste the skin toward the bottom. I moaned at the sensations his tongue sent sparking through my body, and I twisted my fingers in his hair.

“Mmmm, Ben—”

He unbuttoned one button at a time, following each opening with his mouth until he was kissing between my breasts. Then I was off my feet and wrapped around him, his hands holding my ass. I could feel him hard against me, and I locked my legs around him tighter. I was out of my mind with desire for the man who'd made me crazy with love the first time.

He made a growling noise deep in his throat and turned and pinned me against the wall, pushing hard between my legs and making me gasp and wrap my legs tighter. “Where's your bedroom, Em?” he said, his voice ragged.

I pointed, and he walked there, carrying me until he laid me on the bed and came with me, pressing his body against mine as his mouth ravaged mine and his hands went on the move.

Mine did, too. Gone were the jacket, the flannel shirt, the T-shirt. I made easy discard of them, wanting skin against skin as he freed my top, peeled off my pj pants in one movement, and came back up slowly, kissing his way up my thighs.

“Oh, God, Ben,” I moaned, arching my back as he lingered torturously before working his way back up past my belly to my breasts, which he then made love to with his mouth till I was nearly begging.

He traveled back up to my face and kissed me, soft and then hard, soft and then hard, over and over till I rolled him over and worked a rhythm against him. He moaned my name and grabbed my ass as he moved with me, his eyes heavy and full of heat. It was erotic and primal and nearly put me over the edge, but I wanted the full show. I kissed down his chest, to his stomach, unzipping his jeans as I moved lower. He grabbed my head and made a sound of ecstasy as I licked my way down till he was free of restraint and in my mouth. He was huge and ready, but I teased him with more, dragging a nipple along the length of him as I crawled back up slowly and rubbed him against me until we were both shaking with need.

“Em—”

“I want you so bad,” I breathed, sliding down over him and catching my breath as all my muscles went taut. “Oh my Go—”

He made a long moan and dug his fingers into my hips, moving me how he needed me to move. I was done for. It had been far too long since a man made me feel like that, and all I could do was hold on to him and hope I didn't pass out from lack of oxygen. I was going over the edge as he shoved up deeper. I was going—