Chapter 17
There was a clothing box on my desk Monday morning. I opened the top to see a small card that read simply:
G ET READY,
BEN
Inside the box was a heavy fleece running shirt and matching ear warmer.
Ben answered on the second ring. “So, how do you like your presents?”
“They’re beautiful. But you realize we live in Florida, right? It’s March, and it’s already over eighty degrees.”
“True, but it’s in the forties in Boston.”
I laughed out loud.
“You expect me to go running in Boston? I’m a Florida girl, born and raised. I don’t have it in me for cold weather.”
“We’ll be there for five days. Are you planning on going that long without a run?”
He was right. I hadn’t gone longer than a couple of days without running since Jason died. It was my chance to step away and reflect, a pseudo therapy I relied on.
“I’ll freeze and die. Has this been your plan all along to get rid of me?” Ben laughed on the other end of the line.
“Trust me. That’s the last thing I’d want. I’ll be right there with you. If you freeze, I’ll carry you back inside and make sure you get warmed up.” His voice, laced with implications, was already making me warm.
“Unless we get lost far from the hotel and I end up a block of ice.”
“It’ll be above freezing even when we go early in the morning, so you turning into ice is a scientific impossibility. And I couldn’t get lost there. It’s my neighborhood. We’ll be running the streets I spent my entire childhood on.”
“Wait, you’re from Boston?”
“Born and raised, Florida Girl. You really were determined not to know anything about me. I talk about it all the time. The buildings in Boston were the main reason I wanted to study architecture.”
“I may have worked hard not to listen when you spoke.”
His laugh flooded my body with tingles. “I promise I’ll keep you safe on the cold, mean streets of Boston.”
“Fine. We’ll try to run. But I’m not too optimistic.”
“I’ll be down at lunchtime to call your parents about watching the kids. Then we can squeeze in a practice run.”
I smiled as I hung up the receiver.
We were leaving one week from today and still had to iron out some details. Last Saturday, when Sophie realized Ben was going on the same work trip, she decided Paris was going to stay with them at my parents’ house. The little sneak got my phone and called them while I wasn’t looking, then skipped back outside.
“Mr. Ben, can Paris stay with us while you’re in Boston? My grandma and grandpa said yes.”
She avoided looking at me. Clearly, Sophie was the epitome of ask for forgiveness rather than permission.
“Sophie Elizabeth, you do not make decisions like that without talking to me.” She gave me a half-hearted apology.
Ben leaned close to keep the kids from hearing. “Are you okay with that?”
I blinked up at him, wondering again where Paris’s mom was. “Of course. She wasn’t planning on staying with… someone else?”
“Kendall, our nanny, was going to stay, but Paris would be happier with Sophie and Clara.” He shot a quick glance toward Paris, ignoring my unspoken question.
I hated giving in to Sophie’s manipulations, but I didn’t want to punish Paris for Sophie’s actions. Now here we were, tying our lives more closely together when I was still trying to decide if I should run the other way. Ben knocked on the doorframe, breaking me out of my thoughts.
“Ready to talk.”
“Come on in and I’ll get her on the line.”
My mom picked up on the first ring, excited to talk about time with her granddaughters. We spent a while walking through the schedules and activities of all three girls, discussing what they could skip and what they couldn’t miss. We would be gone Monday to Friday, so at least I wouldn’t miss another one of Clara’s games.
“Mom, I’ll also talk to Gabriela and Clara’s teacher about them missing a bit of school to take us to the airport and pick us up. Are you okay with that? I think they’d like to be there.”
“Of course. Plus, it will give me a chance to meet Ben in person.”
Her tone said she was already planning our wedding, and I cringed, knowing she was going to make things awkward. As we hung up, I turned to Ben and preemptively apologized.
“She’s going to be a lot when we see each other at the airport, but it all comes from a good place.”
He laughed and squeezed my hand gently. “Don’t worry. She won’t scare me off. Let’s take that run. See if you can keep up.”
We followed the same path as before, looping around the lake a few times. Even in March, the weather was heating up, close to unbearable, and I wouldn’t be able to do this much longer and still look presentable at work afterward.
We talked as we ran, and I was shocked to find I enjoyed it as much as the silent, reflective running I normally pushed for. We traded stories of our kids, laughing at Sophie and Paris’s obsession with each other and commiserating over how hard it is to be a single parent. My friends were all so supportive, but most were either married or didn’t have kids. Talking with Ben made me feel understood in a way I hadn’t since Jason died.
He never brought up Paris’s mother. The subtle questions I’d used to try to broach the topic were passed over, and I didn’t think I had the right to push after constantly putting distance between us. I hoped he would eventually volunteer the information, but until then, I had to show him the same patience he’d shown me.
A week later, I stood with my parents and girls in the center of Orlando International Airport, waiting for Ben and Paris to arrive. We had gotten to the airport early, and I was fluctuating between wanting him there early, too, to make sure we caught our flight, and wanting him to arrive late, so my mom had limited time for her interrogation.
“So tell me about this Ben.” My mom kept scanning the crowd even though she did not know what he looked like.
“He’s the vice president of architecture, so he’s helping me with the internship program. The school wanted us both there for the interviews.”
“Yeah, but what about him?”
“He’s nice. He’s close with Asia, too, but we didn’t become friends until the girls met.” I realized the truth then. Whatever else there was between us, I did consider him a friend.
“Is he handsome?”
I groaned. “Yes, mother, he is handsome.”
“Do you like him?”
“Mom.”
“What? I’m just curious! A handsome single dad with a daughter who’s already best friends with one of yours? How could I not consider the possibility?”
“Sophie!” a small voice screeched from across the airport, saving me from this conversation. A flash of pink darted in front of me and tackled my youngest. Both girls laughed as they tumbled down. I turned around to see Ben walking toward us, one hand rolling his suitcase while the other was tucked in his pocket. He smiled widely at me, and I couldn’t help my answering smile.
“That’s who you are going to Boston with?”
“Yes, for work, Mom.”
“Does KMG have any open positions right now?”
I smiled and shook my head as he reached our group.
“Ben, it is so nice to meet you in person. Sophie is ecstatic Paris is staying with us.”
He smiled at Paris. “The feeling is mutual, I assure you. Thank you, Sue, for agreeing to keep her. She wasn’t excited about me leaving town, and she’ll be so much happier with Sophie. Juliana’s lucky to have her parents so close.”
He turned to my dad, shaking his hand firmly and introducing himself before turning back to me. I could practically see the questions flying through my mom’s mind, and I jumped in before she could ask Ben about his goals and what he values in a partner.
“It’s getting close to our flight,” I said to Ben. “We should get going.”
We actually had almost an hour until take off, but I wanted to give my mom as little time as possible to embarrass me.
“Give me a second to say bye, and we’ll head through security.”
I gave both my girls a big hug and kiss and thanked my parents again. My mom gave me a hug, saying, “Have fun,” in a singsong whisper.
I mimicked back, “It’s work,” but we both chuckled.
Ben and I headed to the security line, both turning back to wave to our kids one more time. My heart pinched, wondering how I would get through five days without getting to hug them or kiss them good night.
A reassuring hand ran down my back. “We’ll FaceTime with them every night. It will be like we’re there.” I nodded, blinking back my tears as I watched them walk toward the exit.
The rest of the trip to Boston passed uneventfully. We gathered our bags and hopped in a taxi for downtown. Billings College was in the heart of Boston, right next to Boston Common and the Public Garden.
It was my first trip to Boston, and I was hoping to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing between meetings. Dean Warren had written up a whole schedule for us, complete with meetings with faculty members, interviews with students, and a fancy dinner with President Munchen, but he left our first day open to get settled into our hotel and to account for potential flight delays.
Our hotel rooms weren’t ready for check-in yet, so we dropped our bags and headed out.
“Let’s walk through the gardens.”
Ben grabbed my hand and started towing me in their direction. A zing of energy flew up my arm from the contact, butterflies erupting in my stomach as he wove our fingers together, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“It’s freezing. Don’t you want to do something indoors?”
“Stop being a baby. It’s forty-five degrees out. You can’t come to Boston and not see the Public Garden. Plus, all the best parts of Boston are outside.”
“That seems like a design flaw,” I muttered, dragging my feet as he pulled me into a city way colder than my poor Floridian blood could handle.
The snow had melted, and the flower beds were still empty. Ben stopped me at the entrance to the park, looking out over the statue of George Washington and the beautiful soft-blue footbridge cutting through the middle of the gardens. Ben stood close behind me, dropping his mouth to my ear.
“It doesn’t look like much, but take a minute to imagine it at other times of year. Spring doesn’t actually spring in Boston for another month, but in May, every bed is filled with tulips. Asia mentioned they are your favorite. They reach as far as you can see, all different colors creating a rainbow. They trade them out in summer for all different kinds of flowers. Fall is a flood of reds, yellows, and oranges, and winter is a blanket of white with icicles hanging off the willows and people ice-skating on the pond. It’s magical.”
I leaned back into him, letting his words transport me to the beauty he described, even though I found the garden beautiful as it was. He slipped his arms around my waist, hugging me even closer.
“I’d love to see that.” I left off with you even though it rang in my mind.
His smile was contagious as he pulled me farther into the gardens. “Maybe we can come back.”
He pointed out his favorite parts of the park, spouting off about both United States history and his own. It was like I was meeting him for the first time, understanding a bit more about where he came from as he dragged me farther into the city.
Travel wasn’t a part of my life growing up. My parents both moved to Florida from other states, and any money saved for vacation went toward visiting family members. Our “hotels” were family guest rooms, our “sights” the cornfields of Ohio or Nebraska. It was a great way to get to know my grandparents and cousins, especially since we didn’t have FaceTime or Facebook to keep us easily connected, but it meant by the time I was eighteen I had really never been anywhere.
When I found out getting to live abroad as a student was an option, I became obsessed. I fixated on the image of me strutting around Paris in the latest fashions, of hiking the Andes to study Incan culture, of being doused in different colors at the Holi festival in India. I didn’t know then what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I wanted to do some of it in a different country. Every cent I saved flew straight into my study-abroad fund.
Years later, when the time came to leave for Vienna, I was terrified. But the trip was life-changing. The new culture mesmerized me—the art and history that can’t be found in the United States. Travel became a bit of a drug for me. Jason and I constantly prioritized travel savings so we could go someplace new at least once a year.
Between the heartbreak of losing him and the substantial decrease in income, travel had fallen by the wayside. It’s hard to think about adventures when you’re trying to keep your head above water. This was the first time I had left Orlando since he died, and I was shocked to realize just how much of my soul had been missing. My heart swelled in my chest, a tingling sensation as I took in the new buildings, the unique New England food, the places that laid the foundation of our country. I needed to bring this back into our lives. For me, this was living.
My eyes flitted back and forth between the stores and incredible architecture around Quincy Market. I let out a squeak as Ben tugged me to the side, sliding into a quiet alcove.
His twinkling eyes enthralled me as the small area forced him into my space. “So, what do you think?”
“Think?” My eyes dropped to his lips as I tried to focus my mind on what we were discussing. He chuckled.
“Of my city.” He inched closer as his hands moved to my waist.
“It’s incredible. I would have expected you to be more interesting after growing up somewhere so cool.” He dropped his face to the crook of my neck, laughing lightly into my skin. His breath set off a chain reaction, heating my body to the tips of my toes.
“I’m sure you find me plenty interesting. Need me to remind you of just how interesting I can be?” His lips ghosted up my neck, and a soft mewling sound escaped me.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed this.” Ben pulled back, looking at me questioningly. “Traveling, I mean. It had meant so much to me before my husband died.”
He smiled, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “Then let’s show you the real Boston. Give you a taste of travel before we get stuck in meeting rooms for the next three days.”
We stopped back at the hotel to get into our rooms before he took me out to a hole-in-the-wall that had been around since his parents were kids. I savored the bit of personal history as much as I savored the food—oysters and lobster and fish the Bostonians prided themselves on.
“How could you leave this place?” I wasn’t sure if I meant the city or literally this restaurant.
“Boston is wonderful, but I wanted to try another place for college. Orlando seemed like a big enough change, and the architecture program at Chadoin College is great.”
“But seasons and history!” He chuckled at my outburst.
“It doesn’t seem as impressive when you grow up with it. And I wouldn’t trade the mild Florida winters for anything, even if it becomes hell itself in July and August.”
We made it back to the hotel right around the girls’ bedtime, and we went into his room to FaceTime them. He took the stiff chair set up at the desk, and I perched myself on the edge of his bed trying not to think about what he’d do here when I left the room. Would he take a shower, slide his clean body between the cold sheets? What would he wear—or would he wear anything? Would he go right to sleep, or would he need to slake some of the tension from our day?
Would he think about me?
My mom’s smiling face filled the screen and broke through my thoughts. “Hello, sweetheart! Perfect timing. The girls are about to finish getting ready for bed. How did today go?”
“It was great. Ben is here, too, so he can talk to Paris after I’m done with the girls.” I needed to slip it in quickly. Otherwise, she’d start going off about how handsome and respectful he is, and his head would grow even bigger.
Clara grabbed the phone from her before she replied. “Mom, guess what happened at school?”
“Wait, I have something to tell her.” The phone started flipping around as Sophie wrestled for control. The two of them animatedly told me about their days, jumping in over each other, making me laugh even while tears pricked my eyes.
“I miss you girls so much, and it’s only been a day.”
“We miss you, too, Mommy.” Sophie huddled up next to Clara as they wished me good night.
I handed the phone off to Ben as Paris got on, and her sweet voice rang out from the other end of the line. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey there, angel. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. I really, really miss you, though.”
“I miss you, too, Paris. Do you want me to call you tomorrow morning before you go to school?”
“Will you?”
“Of course. I’ll call you as many times as you want me to.”
“And you’ll be back in four days, right?”
“Yes, angel, I’ll be back in four days.”
“And you promise you’ll come back?” There was desperation in her voice, and I wondered where it was coming from. It seemed more than typical.
“Look at me, Paris.” Ben paused, and I assumed he was waiting for her to meet his eyes. “I swear to you I will always come back. You are the most important thing in my life, and nothing could keep me from coming home to you.” His voice had a sharp edge, and I noticed tears swimming in his eyes.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, angel.” They said goodbye, and my girls piled back into the screen for one more round of I love yous.
Once the call disconnected, Ben dropped his head into his hands.
“I’m sure you’re wondering what that was about.”
Of course I was wondering. But I didn’t want him talking to me about it because he was cornered, so I gave him an easy out. “It’s none of my business. I understand if you don’t want to share it with me.” At that, Ben lifted his head, his eyes swimming with emotion.
“The truth is, Juliana, I want to share everything with you. I want this. I want us. Not a one-night stand or a couple of hookups in my office that we never talk about again. And that means sharing all of my past, even if it’s hard for me. If you are willing to hear it.”
I nodded as I held his gaze but stayed quiet, giving him the space to share his story. He stared off for a few minutes.
The sounds of the city filtering in through the hotel windows highlighted just how quiet the room was while I waited for him to speak. Honking horns pounded in my head. Laughter and cheering from groups of drunken college students—even so early in the night—made my body tense, like their revelry was a threat to the temporary peace Ben and I had established in the past week. A siren blared in the distance, and I idly wondered if they were rushing to our hotel for me. I was sure my heart was going to give out if I had to wait much longer for whatever Ben had to say. Something he considered serious enough to scare me away.
“I don’t talk about this to most people. It was and still is hard on my daughter, and it feels like a betrayal of her trust to share this part of her life with people who don’t need to know.
“I met Paris’s mom my senior year of college. We fell in love and stayed together in Orlando after we graduated. We got married a few years later and had Paris a few years after that. She wanted to stay home with Paris, and I was fine with whatever she wanted to do. Looking back, our relationship wasn’t great. We didn’t fight, but we didn’t rely on each other, either. We just kind of existed in the same space.”
He paused, looking down at where he clasped his hands between his knees. “She became more and more distant as the years went on. I was focused on moving up at KMG to support them and gave all my spare time to Paris. I realize now I probably neglected her, but she never brought up any issues. How was I supposed to fix a problem I didn’t even know we had?”
I held my breath, scared for where this story was going.
“I came home from work one day when Paris was almost five. Our babysitter was there. She said my wife had an appointment and needed her to watch Paris, but the second I walked in I knew something was wrong. I went into our room and found all her things were gone. Clothing, jewelry, everything. There was a note on our bed that said I’m sorry, but I can’t do it. ”
I reached out to clutch his hands, unable to resist the urge to offer him comfort.
“She sent divorce papers last year. I couldn’t even move forward with the process before because I didn’t know where she was. The hardest part is that Paris remembers her. She was just old enough to remember what it was like to have a mother and to know she actively left her.”
My heart squeezed for the sweet little girl who made my daughter feel so loved. It broke something in me that she had ever spent a day thinking she was unloved or unwanted.
“We’ve both struggled with it. Paris has abandonment issues, and she’s been going to a counselor for the past few years to work through it. I think it’s one reason she and Sophie have connected so much. Obviously, their situations are so different, but they get what it’s like to lose a parent.”
“Ben, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
My nasty comments at the field trip about Ben being a deadbeat parent who put all the work on Paris’s mom slammed into me. I wished I could go back and erase it all. This man had stepped up and had become everything for his child in a way even I couldn’t understand. He not only had to walk Paris through losing her mother but also worked every day to make her feel important in a way my own kids had never once had cause to doubt. He looked back up, his eyes swimming with memories.
“You started at KMG about a year after she left. I took one look at you and I couldn’t breathe. The most beautiful person I had ever seen, even while freaking out. You bolted before I could introduce myself, and I started counting the minutes until our meeting later that day. I spotted you in the auditorium, looking around with such confidence, like you were unfazed by our break-room run-in. And then you looked at me. I thought I was ready to move on if it meant moving on with you.”
My world was shifting underneath me. It was like what I imagined the moments after you jump from an airplane are like, torn between terror and exhilaration as you wonder if the parachute will open. I thought back to my first day, to the strange connection I had with Ben. His perception of me was vastly different from my own. I had been terrified walking into the auditorium, thrown off by our interaction and certain everyone would judge me for my time away.
“But then you canceled last minute, and I came home to Paris crying because I missed her recital. I was already in a terrible mood after ending the day with that asshole client. When I tried to reschedule him because of something for my daughter, he said, ‘Oh I didn’t realize you had a vagina.’ When I didn’t laugh along with him, he told me maybe he should go to a company that knew how to take a joke and prioritize their clients. I was still new in my supervisory role, and I was worried about how Eduardo would react if I lost a big client, so I let him get away with it.
“I was so pissed at him and mad at myself for not being there for her. I felt like it was the universe punishing me for wanting you, for even thinking about something for myself, and I lashed out at you instead. It was completely irrational and unjustified, and I am so sorry, Juliana.”
The regret shined in his eyes, and I squeezed his hand to show I understood and forgave him.
“I shouldn’t have thrown something this heavy on you while we’re stuck together, but I needed you to know. I want you to understand my baggage so you can decide if this is something you want.”
I started to speak, but he cut me off. “Please don’t say anything now. It’s a lot to think about. I don’t want you making a decision you regret later because you felt bad now. You know everything. All my skeletons. I hope you pick me despite it all.”
I nodded solemnly and stood, hating that I was leaving him with nothing but uncertainty and his memories. After two steps, I turned back to look at him, his throat working and his eyes staring unseeingly at the ceiling.
My feet carried me back to him before I knew what was happening. The cold metal of the hotel office chair bit into my fingers as they landed on the armrest. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, the strands of his beard tickling my lips.
He turned toward me as I pulled back, fear and hope fighting for dominance in his eyes. I wanted to swear my allegiance to the hope, to help turn the tides of the war in its favor.
But he asked for me to wait. I hadn’t given him much reason to trust me since we started this thing, and if that was what he needed to feel confident that I wanted him, I’d give it to him.
I ran my hand through his hair, barely restraining the urge to press my lips to his.
“We’ll talk tomorrow?” I asked.
He nodded. The hope seemed to beat back the fear. Not fully, but enough for tonight. “Tomorrow.”
I released a shaky breath, giving him one last smile before leaving him with his thoughts.