The Love of Her Lives: A BRAND NEW unforgettable and utterly emotional summer romance (Must-read Rom

December, nine years ago

“Congratulations, Ben. It was a total triumph.”

“Thanks, Millie.” Ben scratched at his beard with a smile that — finally — reached his eyes. He looked a little tired, after what I’d heard was a series of long, late-night rehearsals with the small cast, but he also seemed really happy. I wanted to hug him, but maybe we weren’t there yet.

Bonnie did the hugging for me, congratulating her brother on the successful opening night of A Chill in the Air, his very first written-and-directed play. Amber, who’d been sitting with us for the performance, waited impatiently for her turn, then flung her arms around Ben’s neck and gave him a longer-than-necessary kiss.

I looked away. It always felt weird to see Ben kiss someone. Then again, Bonnie probably didn’t like it much either.

Chris ambled over with some drinks, handing one to me and planting a kiss of his own on my temple. I responded with a small smile. Chris was such a good boyfriend. So reliable.

We’d been dating casually since the start of the junior-year fall semester, when the Notables got back to rehearsals for their own Christmas concert, and he’d asked me out to a movie. He was such a refreshing change from my disastrous affair with Rufus. Always there for me, always available, always wanting to do things. Go to dinner, see a downtown exhibit, go for a weekend lakeshore hike, or just spend the day having sex and eating pizza.

So goddam enthusiastic about it all.

I felt a slight wobble in my stomach as Chris and Ben chatted about the play. Bonnie, who’d been working admirably over the past few months to embrace her brother’s girlfriend, was listening to Amber talk about her cosmetology course.

I scanned the room where the show’s afterparty was being held — this time, a somewhat soulless function room near the campus theater. Rufus had been told by the dean to stop hosting drama group parties inside the theater itself, following the West Side Story wrap event earlier that year. Rumor had it that the caretakers had arrived in the morning, and complained to the university administration about sticky wine and beer spilled all over the stage, and even someone’s lace underwear left in the wings. The complaint had gotten back to the theater group, and was met with a lot of laughter and wild speculation about whose underwear it might’ve been. Most of the cast eventually decided it was probably Bonnie’s, as she’d been seen getting very close to the lighting manager that evening. Bonnie, graciously, neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.

My cheeks burned with shame every time I thought about it.

As if to compound the humiliation of that memory, I spotted Rufus and Amy, joined at the hip, on the other side of the function room. They were chatting to some university faculty, and Amy was laughing with abandon.

The two of them had clearly worked through Rufus being a liar and a cheat, then.

Rufus had always told me that Amy was severely depressed and isolated, but every time I’d seen her, she’d looked perfectly happy. Aside from that night, of course. With the benefit of distance from my affair with Rufus, it seemed increasingly likely that Rufus had simply lied to me in order to gain my sympathy — to make him seem somehow less of a cheat, since he was supposedly unhappy at home. And it had worked. I had, in the early days at least, presumed Rufus would break up with Amy, validating our affair and turning it into a real relationship. That had made it feel less shameful to sleep with him.

In more than a year of sneaking around and lying to others, it had never occurred to me that Rufus might also be lying to me. Now it seemed so obvious.

But that was all in the past, and now I had Chris. I was pretty confident Chris would never lie to me.

I turned and gave my boyfriend a winning smile. Was he my boyfriend? We hadn’t used such terms yet.

Distracted from his conversation with Ben, Chris raised his eyebrows at me. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Oh, nothing. Just glad you’re here.”

Chris beamed at me. “Me too.” He kissed me on the forehead, and something caught his eye behind me. “Oh, there’s Andy. I gotta see if he and Bella are still up for the ski trip. Give me ten minutes.”

Left alone with Ben, as Bonnie and Amber were still subcutaneous-deep in skincare discussions, I was suddenly awkward again. Ben, bless him, broke the silence.

“How’s the latest short story coming along? Weren’t you expanding on some of the stuff you wrote on your Europe trip?”

I smiled at him, tentatively. Trust Ben to ask about that. He was the only person in my life who was truly interested in my fairly poor attempts at creative writing — Bonnie and Chris included. Bonnie, for as much as she loved me, didn’t really keep track of my hobbies. And Chris, although he was very sweet, wasn’t much of a creative guy, and simply let me do my own thing when it came to writing.

“Thanks. There’s one that’s coming along okay, I guess. About a girl who keeps missing her buses in various European cities, which is driving her crazy, but it turns out that it was meant to be, as it leads her to a guy she likes. Eventually.”

Ben chuckled lightly. “Sounds fun. Your character sounds a bit more like my ditzy sister than you, though. Presumably it’s not autobiographical?”

I laughed. “No, my own trip to Europe was much less eventful. And the protagonist is partially based on Bonnie, I think. I’d definitely say my character is more her than me. But the guy she falls for isn’t based on anyone real.”

“Not Chris, then?” Ben nodded towards where Chris was talking to some guys. “He seems like a good dude.”

I followed his gaze. “He is.” I nodded, turning back to Ben. “He’s really... uh, into me, I guess. Which is super sweet.”

Ben raised a brow. “And are you really into him? Kinda has to be a two-way street, Mill.”

Rude.

“Erm, yes, of course I am. Like I said, he’s great.”

Ben lifted a hand in defense. “Okay. If you say so.” He paused, taking a sip of his beer and scanning the room. “Well, I’ve said this before, but thank you again. I suspect you were — how can I put this delicately? — instrumental in helping my play get produced.”

My cheeks flushed for the second time in the past few minutes. “You’re very welcome. And rest assured, that phase of my life is one hundred percent behind me.”

Ben nodded. “Thank goodness for that. That whole thing was a total shitshow, Mill. And if I’m being honest, Rufus may have been good to me from a career perspective, but he is an asshole of the highest order. You deserve so much better than that — I could hardly stand the thought of you allowing yourself to be treated like that.” He visibly shuddered.

“Thanks.” I gave him a light arm-punch. “Protective big brother.”

I regretted the phrase as soon as it came out of my mouth. Something about the word “brother” felt squishy and wrong.

Ben frowned, and muttered, “That’s not exac—” He was cut off as Amber, Bonnie, and, from the other side, Chris, returned to our group all at once.

Chris pulled me close to his side, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Having fun?” he murmured to me.

Breaking eye contact with Ben, I turned to Chris and gave him a light kiss. “Always, when you’re around,” I replied.

I chose to ignore the squirmy, unsettled feeling in my gut.