Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
THE PLATTERS, “ONLY YOU”
Gabby
It was weird. When I woke the next morning, I no longer recognized the Ben I grew up with.
He stood at my desk, thumbing through one of my textbooks. Shirt off. Jeans on, but not zipped or buttoned. Hair a chaotic mess.
Nope. No sign of best friend Ben.
The guy scratching the back of his head and yawning was hot Ben.
Sexy Ben.
Boyfriend Ben.
I had to think about that. Did it take me nineteen years to get my first boyfriend? And would he be my last? I pressed a hand to my baby bump. Of course, he would be my last.
I sat up and put on his hoodie, zipping it just past my breasts.
He turned and lifted his eyebrows while inspecting me. Then he smiled. “Good morning.”
I finger spelled “Only you.”
His forehead wrinkled as he stared at my hand. “Slower.”
I spelled it again.
“Only you?”
I nodded, pointing to him. Then I padded toward my desk, my body brushing past his to write him a note.
Only You
You’re my first and last.
My beginning and my end.
My friend and lover.
Ben read it and lifted his gaze to me. “Gabbs, did you just write me a poem?”
I finger spelled. “A haiku.”
He grinned, curling my hair behind my ears while ducking to kiss me. “I love you,” he whispered before kissing me. Then he hugged me and swayed.
I wasn’t sure what he was doing until he started to sing “Only You” by The Platters.
My heart swelled, forming a lump in my throat. Ben could sing, like really sing. Pitch-perfect. In time. And every step synched to the rhythm. Then I focused on the words, and my emotions multiplied. The song wasn’t just poetic; it was beautiful and romantic. It was us.
While Ben serenaded and danced with me, it felt like he could hear. There was nothing tragic about the moment. It was just me and the boy who stole my heart before I even knew it. Perhaps all those years in high school I spent “pining” for Matt were nothing more than searching for my stolen heart. And Ben had it all along.
As he sang the last two lines, he unzipped the hoodie and slid it past my shoulders, leaving me naked before him.
“Baby,” he murmured in my ear. “You’re so sexy.”
I swallowed hard because he called me “baby” and “sexy.” For years, I wanted to be someone’s “sweetheart” or their “love,” and I wanted to be “beautiful” or maybe even “gorgeous.” But as Ben cupped my breast and teased his thumb over my nipple, I loved being his sexy baby.
I blinked heavily, staring at my alarm clock. “Oh my gosh! I’m late!” Shoving Ben away from me, I grabbed my previous day’s clothes from the floor and wrestled with them.
Ben squinted.
“I’m late!” I yelled, then I tried to sign it, but I couldn’t remember the sign for late.
“It’s fine. I’m guessing you’re late,” he said.
I nodded with my back to him as I hopped on one foot and then the other to put on my socks and shoes.
“Sorry. My fault.”
Yes. It was his fault. Everything was his fault.
I dry brushed my teeth, swished the melted ice from the previous night’s drink, spat it back in the cup, and snagged my backpack on the way to the door.
“That’s it. You’re leaving me with a boner? No goodbye. No kiss?”
I turned while opening the door.
He crooked a finger at me, and I shook my head.
“You’re stubborn,” he said.
I grinned.
“Skip your classes. I’ll help you study. We’ll go to lunch. I’ll braid your hair.”
I shook my head.
Ben sauntered toward me. It wasn’t fair that he was half naked. “You say no, and yet you’re still here.” He took my bag from me and dropped it on the ground before pushing the door shut. Where was my willpower?
I had none.
No willpower, and less than sixty seconds later, I had no clothes on my body, just naked Ben between my legs.
* * *
Why did you finally read my letters?
I had so many questions, and since Ben convinced me to skip school and he fetched me breakfast, I had all day to quiz him.
He sipped a bottle of orange juice, sitting in my desk chair, while I lounged in the bean bag chair I got from Sarah and Isaac for Christmas.
“I don’t want to tell you.”
I signed, “Why?”
He capped his juice. “Because I’m a stubborn asshole. And I honestly don’t know how long it would have taken me to open them had Tillie not opened them the day she cleaned my room.” He stared out the window.
Tillie knows!
I panicked because I didn’t want anyone telling my parents before I did.
“She won’t say anything.”
How do you know? That’s a big secret to keep. Where are the letters? The ultrasound picture? What if your mom finds them?
Ben stared at the notepad that I held up, and he twisted his lips for a few seconds, then he leaned to the side and pulled his wallet out of his jeans. “Some of the letters were damaged, and the rest are hidden.” He slid the ultrasound photo from his wallet. “But I have this.”
It melted my heart at first, then I set the notepad aside and rocked forward to pluck the taped-together photo from his fingers.
Ben cringed, scratching the back of his head. “About that …”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Tillie didn’t say you were pregnant. She just told me to read them. So I started to read them in order.” Ben shot me a look. “Do you recall what you wrote in your first letter?”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded slowly.
“So I ripped up the letters, but then I stopped when I noticed shreds of the photo. It took me forever to piece it back together. Then I read the letters that I hadn’t destroyed. And here I am.”
That’s not how I wanted him to find out. It left me crestfallen.
“Gabby.” He reached for my hand, but I plopped back into the bean bag chair before he touched me.
Were you ever going to read them?
His hesitation answered my question.
Were you going to sleep with her?
“Gabby.” His face tensed as he shook his head.
I hurled the notepad at him. “NO! Not Gabby ! That’s not what you say. Oh my—” I cupped a hand over my mouth to muffle my sob.
He was going to have sex with her because we were over in his mind.
“I hated my life,” he said, stabbing his fingers into his hair. “I hated the pity. I hated the look on your face because you blamed yourself. I hated not knowing if I would ever live up to Matthew Cory in your mind.”
I couldn’t look at him. And I didn’t want to hear his excuses.
“Gabby, you taunted me. Had I opened the first letter from you when you sent it, I never would have opened the rest.”
“I was mad,” I signed.
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Ugh!” I hated that he got to speak his emotions without thinking them through. I had to stop, control myself, and write everything down.
He handed me the notepad, and I jerked it out of his hand.
I was mad! You knew there was a possibility that I could be pregnant but you still broke up with me.
He frowned. “It was a slim chance.”
It was a 100% chance. I’M PREGNANT!
He flinched.
Is that your method? Pulling out? How many other girls have you impregnated?
“None. I wasn’t planning on having sex with you. It just happened.”
You had no intention of coming here. You’re not really here for me. Intention is everything! Just go home.
I stood and shoved the notepad into his chest before opening the door.
“Intention is nothing.” He tossed the notepad onto my desk and shoved his feet into his sneakers. “Reality is everything.” He stopped at the door, peering down at me. “And here’s what is real. I’ve loved you for years . Something really shitty happened to me, and I’ve had a hard time accepting it. But you’re pregnant with our baby, and all I want to do is get my life together and be a good father and husband. What’s real is I don’t care how we got here or how bad the timing may seem. I’m not mad about it. You are my fucking dream, Gabriella Grace Jacobson. And I’m not letting you go. That’s what’s real. That is everything . So you just think about that while I’m gone.”