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

April, five years ago

The cherry blossom tree in the yard beyond the pool was in glorious bloom, the pale blush of pink offset against the deep teal of the lake. The Masons had planted it when they moved in, back when Ben was six and Bonnie only three. Cherry blossoms were Angela’s favorite, inspired by the time she’d spent in Osaka as a student.

Or, they had been.

More than a year from the accident, and it was still hard to think of Angela and Frank Mason in the past tense. They seemed so present, in the house and garden and lake view, even now.

And their presence in my life had meant so much. A support system like one I’d never known, not even when my own parents were together. Frank and Ange were so encouraging, to all three of us. It had been like I was one of their own kids, and they were just as enthusiastic about my marketing career, and my writing hobby, as they were about Ben and Bonnie’s ambitions. Without them, I felt somewhat adrift. I was still working at Frank’s architectural firm, but it was weird without him there, and the work was a little dry at times.

Plus, I hadn’t jotted down a word of creative writing in over a year. Not since that night.

I stood upright from my position leaning against the deck railing, rolled my shoulders and shook out my arms to bring myself out of the nostalgia, and went back into the shade of the house. In the kitchen, Bonnie was laying out fixings for lunch for the three of us.

Through the archway into the living room came the strains of Ben picking out a tune on the guitar his father used to own, which Ben still kept in the family home. He had several guitars at his and Amber’s loft, but he was spending a lot of time at the Lake Bluff house these days. It felt like ever since Bonnie had used some of her generous inheritance to buy out Ben’s half of the house, he’d been spending even more time there — despite having bought that gorgeous loft in the city for himself. As though he needed a way to hold on to his parents.

It had been a rough year, for both of them. For all three of us.

I’d tried to be strong for them, and help out where I could, or just to be there to listen. But sometimes it had been hard to be the strong one when I almost felt like I’d lost my parents, too, in a way. Of course, I knew it wasn’t the same as losing the mom and dad who had raised you. But I had loved Frank and Angela — very much. Sometimes I’d wished it could be me sobbing on Bonnie’s shoulder, or grieving while wrapped up in a warm Ben hug, rather than the other way around. But their pain had been worse than mine.

“Come get it,” Bonnie yelled, unnecessarily, given both Ben and I were close by. The strumming stopped, and Ben lumbered through the archway. His dark-blond hair was disheveled and over-long, his beard needed a trim, and his posture seemed a little stooped — his whole countenance somehow lower than his tall frame usually offered.

He glanced up as he gathered a plate of ham, cheese, and bread. “Oh, hey, Mill. I didn’t realize you’d gotten here.”

I smiled at him, but he had already turned to the fridge to grab a soda.

“Hey, Ben. Yeah, just about ten minutes ago.” I paused. Asking him how he was doing was probably fruitless, given that the answer was apparent in the set of his shoulders.

I glanced at Bonnie, who gave me a twisted half-smile and a tiny shake of her head. Clearly Bonnie was fully aware of Ben’s low mood.

She clapped her hands. “Let’s sit out on the deck,” she exclaimed, with a forced sing-song brightness.

“Great idea! It’s gorgeous outside,” I replied cheerily, then cringed a little at my over-enthusiasm. Ben would see right through both of us.

Ben silently followed us out into the sunshine and we settled ourselves around the large glass table. The umbrella was not yet set up for the warmer weather, and the light was a little dazzling, but none of us could be bothered to lug the huge umbrella out of the storage box. We dug into makeshift ham, cheese, and salad subs, uncharacteristically lacking in conversation. It was mostly Ben’s grumpiness that was bringing us all down, though.

Bonnie, in contrast, had mostly emerged from her hole of grief at this point. Her cure had been using a chunk of the inheritance to lease a tiny storefront in nearby Lake Forest and set up a beautiful little store full of shabby-chic tableware and decor items, with an interior design consultancy on the side. Since deciding to take that step six months ago, she’d been incredibly busy finding the right location, arranging the lease, sourcing suppliers and setting up relationships, working with local artists and ceramicists to showcase their work, then decorating the empty store in time for its launch, just two weeks ago. I’d helped as much as possible, on evenings and weekends, with social media marketing and a bit of local promotion and advertising.

And it was working, at least so far. The store wasn’t packed, but there was definite interest from the wealthy locals, with a steady stream of customers. The “A Bonnie Home” social media account had amassed nearly a thousand followers already, all ooh-ing and ahh-ing over Bonnie’s styling of rustic candelabras over locally hand-woven table runners.

Bonnie was a hit, as I’d always known she would be.

I took a sip of my lemonade, and gave Bonnie a grin. She responded with a smile of her own, and raised her eyebrows.

“Hey, Mill,” she said, breaking the silence, “did I tell you about the woman with the house by the golf course?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “So this woman, like, dripping with diamond rings, came into the store Thursday, and was in for maybe ten minutes examining everything — and you know there’s not even that much to examine — and then was like, ‘So you do interior design consultancy too, right? My daughter saw your TikTok,’ and she wants me to come to her house next week, and maybe style her dining room, because she’s got a big dinner coming up.”

I put down my glass. “Bonnie! Wow, that’s awesome. Good for you! I knew the Real Housewives of Lake Michigan would start hiring you before long — it was only a matter of time. And it’s only been, what, two weeks?”

Bonnie giggled. It was so good to see her truly joyful again.

“Well, it’s all thanks to you, Mill. If you hadn’t made me do those dumb video clips, she might never have heard about me.”

I chuckled. “Not so dumb now, are they?” I turned to Ben, who was sitting next to me, staring out over the water. “You must be feeling very proud of your sister.”

Ben glanced my way. “Huh? Oh... yeah. Super proud of her. She’s doing amazing.” He turned to his sister. “You know I’m impressed with you, right? Way to make a silver lining out of what happened.”

Bonnie’s expression darkened a little. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She tilted her head at her brother. “You think I’m glad it happened, and we got the inheritance?”

I reached across the table to touch Bonnie’s arm. “I’m sure he didn’t mean that.”

Ben sighed audibly, and returned his gaze to the lake. “No... of course not. I just mean... I don’t know. That you seem to have been thriving recently, I guess, and totally turned yourself around from a year ago, while I’m...” He didn’t bother to finish his thought.

I sat back in my chair. I couldn’t hold it in any longer — I had to ask. I pulled in a long breath.

“What’s really going on with you, Ben? I mean, I know it’s been a rough time, of course it has, but... is that all it is? It feels almost like you’re sadder than you were even six months ago.”

Ben nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess I don’t feel much better. Plus, things are always tough for me between plays, when I don’t know where the next production is coming from. And I haven’t done much new writing in the past year.” He shrugged, with a nonchalance that was unconvincing. “It’s just a whole bunch of stuff at once.” He clearly wanted this conversation to be over.

“Okay,” I replied. I cast a glance over to Bonnie, who gave a quick nod of encouragement to keep pushing. I knew what Bonnie wanted me to ask. “And... how’s Amber? I was kind of expecting to see her here this weekend.”

Ben’s sandy eyebrows furrowed. “She’s at a spa getaway. And... I guess I didn’t tell her I was coming over here. I needed a bit of time apart, and away from our place.”

“Everything okay between you?” I asked, as Bonnie quietly stood and collected dishes to take into the kitchen. That was Bonnie’s way of bowing out of the conversation, knowing Ben would probably be more open with me on our own. Ben always seemed to struggle with admitting hard stuff to his sister, especially since their parents had been gone. Like he had to be the strong one — even though he didn’t have to, at all.

Ben passed Bonnie his plate, and waited until she’d gone inside before responding. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I guess we’re at a crossroads. She’s made it clear she wants to get married and move out of the loft, buy a big house together, and start having kids in the next two years.” He screwed up his face and ran a hand through his thick mop of hair. “And we’ve been together four years — we just had an anniversary, and she obviously totally thought I was going to propose at dinner, and she was basically furious that I didn’t. We had a big fight about it when we got home. And I get why she’s mad. It’s been four years, all of our mid- to late twenties, and that’s the time you find your life partner, right?” He shook his head, and turned his body to face me. “But I just don’t know.”

His eyes looked sadder than I’d ever seen them — except at the funeral.

I spoke quietly. “So, what do you think is holding you back? I mean, Amber’s not wrong — you’ve been together all this time, and it’s reasonable for her to expect the next step.”

Ben grimaced. “If I’m being really honest — and this is just between you and me — she’s... well. She’s very ambitious, as you know, and entrepreneurial, and driven. I’ve always admired that. But her cosmetics line isn’t doing well, and she comes from a stay-at-home-mom kind of family. Her mom was an Avon rep, supplying the local housewives with products while raising kids in the suburbs, total Edward Scissorhands kind of deal.” He paused. “I can’t help feel like Amber’s just been waiting all this time to see if I’ll be able to support her in the way she wants to live. Like, a fancy house in the suburbs — kinda like this one, but, you know, with more bling — and she can stay home with the kids.” He sighed. “And I guess she’s been waiting to see if I would become successful enough as a playwright, because God knows we weren’t expecting any inheritance for another thirty years, right? But since we came into the money, she’s suddenly all about buying the big house and having her fairytale wedding. She even told me in our fight that it doesn’t matter if I don’t write any more plays — I can afford not to.” He shook his head. “I’m starting to wonder if she really loves me for me, or the life I can offer. But I don’t want that life. Just because I also want a family one day doesn’t mean I want that life in the suburbs. With her.”

Ben turned back to face the lake, his cheeks flushing. “Man, she’d be furious if she knew I was talking to you about this.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, she probably would. She’s never liked me.”

Ben chuckled quietly. “She doesn’t get how I could be close with my sister’s best friend. That’s weird for her. She doesn’t have any male friends herself, not one. Or even that many friends at all. She’s become kind of reliant on me.” His smile faded. “So... what do I do? Marry her, knowing we’ve been a pretty good cohabiting team over the past four years, and we could both do worse, and just find a compromise for our lifestyle and dreams? Or break up, which means I’ve wasted the best years of her life and she’ll have to start from scratch? We both will.”

I placed my hand on Ben’s bare arm, my heart aching for him. I couldn’t stand to see him in pain. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. It’s gotta be tough. But I remember a piece of advice you had to give me, years ago, when I was in a relationship with Chris and I wasn’t feeling it. You’ve got to do what’s truly right for both of you, no matter how hard.”

Ben nodded, and gave me a sad half-smile. “Yeah. I’m so wise.” He placed a hand over mine, just for a moment, then stood. “Thanks, Mill. You’re the best.”