Chapter 31 Charlie
CHARLIE
Bennett brought me home from school again today.
Rosie isn’t feeling well, and I can tell Bennett’s stressed about it.
She caught the sore-throat, stomach-bug thing I had last week.
He told me that since his mom got sick and died, it’d been hard for him to see the people he loves get sick.
That it brings him back to that time in his life.
Bennett is a huggy person, and I didn’t even think about it before I gave him a quick hug when he dropped me off.
“She’s going to get better. I promise,” I told him.
Later, Rosie texted me a heart and said thank you.
I guess Bennett was much calmer when he got home.
The lines of our days blended into weeks, becoming smudges of hunger, exhaustion, and sleeping increasingly closer to each other as the wind and chill were our never-ending companions.
A few show-initiated challenges broke up our settled routine.
There was a water contamination challenge (the show dropped off two containers of water, and we had thirty minutes to determine which was drinkable and which would make us ill) that I was going to have nightmares about for the rest of my life.
We won the containers, which ended up being really helpful.
For another challenge, we had to race the clock (and the weather) to build four different fires using four different starter methods.
It wouldn’t have been that hard, except the nonstop wind made everything hard.
Bennett ended up holding a tarp over me while I got every fire going. His arms had been shaking by the end.
I was dreading of our next challenge. We’d been lucky to have them spaced out so much. That must mean there were fewer of us left, and they didn’t want to weed us out too quickly.
I needed to mentally prepare, but instead, my thoughts were consumed by two things:
First, hunger. Even in my sleep, I dreamed about food. Maybe that’s why I was hugging Bennett all night, like a turkey leg I’d love to take a bite of.
And second, Bennett. Lying close to him.
Talking to him. Watching him work, which he was always doing.
He was one of the hardest workers I’d ever met.
His fingers against my scalp when he helped me wash my hair.
The very specific muscle in his forearm that flexed when he was sawing another log.
The tender way I caught him looking at me if I woke up after him.
And the one I could create entire songs about out here (except it would be weird): kissing him.
A kiss from Bennett felt more amazing than the most romantic moments with Greg.
What in the world was I supposed to do with that realization?
The good (and bad) news was that I had plenty of time out here to ponder it.
“I’ll get this side!” Bennett yelled over the wild wind whipping through our campsite. I felt like I was in the midst of a tornado. I was helping him tie down anything we couldn’t bring into the shelter.
My hair flung in my face, and I tried to shake it away, since my hands were in the middle of collecting the rabbit meat we’d smoked last night. My hair was too short to tie back, but I still loved the freedom and lightness of it. “Will our shelter hold up?” I called back to him.
He finished tying his corner, then came next to me and brushed my hair out of my eyes and mouth. Every brush of his fingers made it hard to breathe. All thoughts fled except for how, despite everything, I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to lose whatever this was with Bennett.
“I hope so,” he said grimly.
“It sounds like a horror movie,” I said with a shiver. A particularly strong gust of wind rattled the shelter as we escaped inside.
He made sure there were no easily spotted weaknesses while I got a fire going. After being out here for several weeks, I was becoming a pro fire starter. Not really a skill I’d need while leading my ocean exploration groups, but it was sure coming in handy out here.
Bennett sat beside me, and we both stared into the wavering fire.
“Is being out here what you thought it would be?” Bennett poked a stick at the flames, and bright orange and yellow sparks drifted upward.
“I thought there’d be more animal rescues,” I said, almost embarrassed with how wistful I sounded.
“Little warblers with splints?” He gave me a fond smile that had my stomach swooping.
“I wouldn’t turn it down.” I nudged his shoulder with mine as I clamped my lips down on a smile. “Or a fox that needs to be lovingly spoon-fed back to health.”
“Are you okay with having to eat so much meat?” The majority of our diet was greens and berries, but we were able to supplement with grouse and fish to get enough protein and fat to safely stay out here.
“It’s not my favorite,” I admitted. “I’ll eat chicken at home, and grouse isn’t that much different.
I just can’t think too much about how it was just alive.
It’s so different to eat something you hunted instead of going to the grocery store and picking up a chicken cutlet from the freezer section. ”
“It is. It can be hard, but for me, there’s a level of connection with the animal and nature that fills me with a really specific kind of gratitude.”
“How so?” I loved when Bennett got to talking like this.
He usually asked questions and listened but was quiet about himself.
The more I was out here, the better I was getting to know him.
He had depths he kept hidden for some reason.
Perhaps the same reason we all kept good parts of us hidden—it made us vulnerable.
If someone rejected the facade, well, okay. That didn’t hurt so much.
But if someone rejected the real you, that hurt. Greg had rejected the real me in our on-again, off-again relationship. Found me lacking in every way. So I’d shifted and changed and molded myself into someone he wouldn’t reject.
The me who almost married Greg? I didn’t know who she was. Being in the wilderness with Bennett was making that clearer than ever.
Another aggressive gust of wind shook the tarp over our heads, and Bennett’s mouth turned down as he stared at it. “When I’m hunting, I think about the gift of the animal’s life.”
“That’s beautiful.”
He cleared his throat and poked at the fire again. “I’ll keep my eyes out for an injured animal you can rehabilitate,” he said, clearly wanting to change the subject.
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” I paused, feeling the tenseness and worry coming from Bennett. Talking about his childhood seemed to put him in this mood. “It’s rainier out here than I expected.”
He pulled his gaze away from the flames. “Yeah. I don’t remember the other seasons being so wet.”
“I guess we could be dealing with the heat of season two.”
He shuddered. “Give me rain and wind any day over that.”
I yawned and rested my head on his shoulder. “At least in the cold, we can add layers. You can only take so much off in the heat.”
“One downside to the cold, I guess,” Bennett said with a dramatic sigh.
I played my words back, and my cheeks grew warm as I buried my face in his arm. “Bennett,” I scolded half-heartedly, my gaze shooting to the cameras.
“What? I can’t say that to my wife?” His arm went around me, and his fingers tickled gently down my arm. I was extra grateful to see him being playful again.
“Yes, but—” I bit off my words before I said something the cameras might pick up.
Everything with Bennett felt so charged lately—in an exciting way.
But also in a way that scared me. What was real, and what wasn’t?
His kisses felt real. His touch sending delicious prickles up and down my arm felt real.
The way he looked at me, like he could watch me all day and never grow bored, that felt real.
And the heat in his gaze after he’d helped me wash my hair? I’d been grateful for the icy cold water dripping down my back to keep my feet firmly planted in reality.
Bennett rested his chin on my head.
“What about you?” I asked him. “Is this what you expected?”
He was silent as he pondered the question.
I loved that about Bennett—the way he was thoughtful about everything.
He didn’t rush to fill silence with the sound of his own voice and half-cocked thoughts.
Instead, he let the ripples of my questions settle around him before he answered.
Like they were worth thinking about—and that I was worth answering.
“No.” His fingers stopped dancing along my arm and now brushed through my hair, continuing down my spine as he scratched my back until I could almost fall asleep. “I didn’t expect this at all.”
The way he said it made me lift my head to look at him. At the weight in his expression. At all the unanswered questions between the two of us.
He studied my face, leaned close, and then kissed me on the forehead, leaving his lips pressed to my skin. I closed my eyes at surge of emotion rising in me. I was not going to cry just because Bennett was being tender.
Bennett pulled back, and I thought he might kiss me. Maybe this time, I’d let it happen. Let the waves of Bennett consume me, drag me under, never let me go.
My heart raced, and I braced myself. I could do this. I could trust Bennett. He’d never hurt me, not knowingly.
What if Bennett Forrester realized that I was falling head over heels in love with him, and stayed with me out of obligation? Because he would. My self-sacrificing husband absolutely would.
Was I selfish enough to let him?
Not yet. But if he kissed me, really kissed me, all bets were off.
He brushed his nose against mine, and then, to my surprise, he pulled us both down to the ground so we were lying on our backs, staring up at the rippling tarp above us. My stomach whooshed with the movement, and I let out a unexpected laugh.
“If you could go one place in the whole world, where would it be?”
“What?” My mind raced to catch up to what was happening as I tried to recalibrate.