Friends With All the Benefits

21 Ethan

S pring arrived, and with it came warmth and an explosion of colour in the front garden. Ellie’s vision for it had come to fruition. The scraggly rose bushes we put in almost half a year ago were growing thick and green. Blush pink rosebuds were forming all over, promising a brilliant show when they hit full bloom. Underneath and around the rose bushes bloomed half a dozen colourful flowers I still couldn’t name. Bees buzzed from flower to flower, and a few neighbours had already wandered by to admire the view.

Ellie had just finished having a chin wag with Mrs Ramon, the neighbour across the road about our respective gardens and waved to me. I had just finished a brekkie run to our favourite bakery and was walking back with our drinks and pastries. Ellie came down the footpath to join me, and we walked back together.

Just as we reached our little gate, Ellie stopped. She took a deep gulp of her coffee, looked at the house and garden, and sighed.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“This is what I always thought my dream house would look like.” Ellie had stars in her eyes as she surveyed the cottage in all its springtime glory.

My lips turned up. I was proud of the house and even prouder of what we’d both achieved with it. I felt a flood of pride when Ellie told me how much she loved this place. “So you’ve said. Multiple times.”

“I wonder if our landlady would sell one of these days…” A dreamy look washed across her face.

Ellie still believed that some benign old lady who liked gardening owned the house. I might have inadvertently led her to think so over the last few months with a few throwaway comments, and more tellingly, my silence. My chest tightened. My white lie about the house was there for very good reason, but somehow, after months of Ellie not knowing the truth, the lie had grown and grown until it suddenly became too big to surmount.

“…but I doubt I could afford this on my own salary,” Ellie continued, still daydreaming about one day owning the place. She was right. House prices had gone through the roof in recent years. I had barely scraped through buying this place, and it was only because of my inheritance from my grandparents that I could have afforded the downpayment for it at all.

“I’m sure the landlord will be happy to keep renting to you for the foreseeable future,” I said, my mouth dry. I couldn’t bring myself to say landlady. It seemed like a lie too far. Ellie didn’t notice. Everything else I said was the truth. I was more than happy for Ellie to keep staying here. With me. For as long as this arrangement lasted.

“Maybe the old lady has a son who’s single. And she plans to leave this cottage to him someday for him to raise a family. And maybe his mother would mention me favourably because I did up her gardens.” A grin lit up Ellie’s face.

My eyes widened at Ellie’s flight of fancy. “Ellie, I’m shocked. Are you saying you’d marry a guy just for the house?”

“Maybe he’s good-looking too. And muscular thanks to all the gardening he does for his mother. I hope he is.”

I felt a jolt of jealousy course through me. It was irrational. I was the landlord. I was the one who worked on the gardens with Ellie. It should be me that Ellie wanted, not some imaginary mama’s boy. And yet, she wasn’t the one I wanted. Irrational indeed.