Chapter 18
A text woke me up before my 7 A.M. alarm.
Ben: Get out of bed, lazy
Juliana: What the hell, Ben! It’s 6:30.
Ben: If we aren’t out of here by 6:45, we won’t have time for our run
I flipped to my weather app and cringed when I saw the current temperature listed as 38 degrees.
Juliana: Too cold. Staying in my bed where it’s nice and warm.
A knock sounded on my door at the same moment I hit send. Ben called from beyond the door, “Stop being a baby. Wear the fleece I gave you and you’ll be fine. I’ll be downstairs waiting. See you in ten.”
I took full advantage of those ten minutes, spending eight of them in my warm bed before throwing on my running clothes and ear warmer with lightning speed. The elevator opened into the lobby, and my eyes found Ben immediately.
He was leaning against the wall, all cool confidence. He looked handsome in his fleece running shirt, but the bottom half of him caught my attention.
“Shorts? It’s thirty-eight degrees, you maniac.”
“Exactly. It’s not even freezing outside.” He smiled brightly, laughing at how I was already rubbing my hands together when we weren’t even out the door yet.
He led me out of our hotel on the edge of Copley Square, and I tried to distract myself from the cold with the beautiful view of the Boston Public Library and Trinity Church, marveling at the history on each corner here. I loved Orlando. It was a bright, warm hub full of fun activities and hidden gems the theme park tourists never find, but something was historical if it was built in the 1960s. This was a different world.
I followed Ben’s lead as we started at a leisurely pace down one of the larger streets until we reached the gardens. We traveled the winding paths that led us up and around the perimeter of the Common. The beauty of the parks and the architecture was just enough to distract from the fact that I was freezing.
I’d expected the city to be quiet on such a cold, dark morning, but the streets were already filling with people: speed-walking women and men in business clothes, bleary-eyed students with bags slung over their shoulders, and others like us who were masochistic enough to run in this weather.
“My favorite street in the city is coming up at this next turn,” he said quietly, almost reverently.
I could see why. The street was wide with stunning brownstones lining each side. The broad road left space for a thin park running down the center, peppered with statues and benches.
“I grew up here on Comm Ave. My parents’ brownstone is coming up in a couple houses.”
He pointed to a simple redbrick brownstone sandwiched between two ornate white buildings that looked like they belonged in Paris rather than Boston. Even with the relative simplicity of his childhood home, I knew the property value had to be through the roof. I imagined what his charmed life must have looked like, snowball fights on his stoop, lounging in the park on a warm summer day, so different from my childhood spent in bathing suits and tank tops, running through our cheap sprinklers to cool off.
“Are you going to see them while we’re here?” I huffed out. My muscles had warmed up over the past two miles, but the cold air still stung my poor Southern lungs.
“They moved. It was the house my mom grew up in, and my grandparents passed it to her when she had kids. Both of my brothers settled down in Southern California while I was in college, and when it was clear I was going to stay in Orlando and they’d have no one to pass it to, they sold and moved out West.”
“I’m sorry. It must be hard to be so far away from them.”
He sighed but nodded his head. “My brothers both went to school in San Diego, and I get why my parents picked there instead of Orlando. Two kids and seven grandkids out there. I used to think about moving there, too, especially after Paris’s mom left, but we had a whole life in Orlando. And now I can’t imagine pulling Paris away from that.”
I was floored again by how much this beautiful man had given up for his daughter.
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“Was that a compliment, Ms. Ryan?”
“Don’t get used to it.”
He laughed. “Thanks. I won’t. Now let’s get you back inside before you turn into an icicle.”
He cut us through a side street, bringing us back to Copley Square with the expertise of someone who had spent years on these streets. I huffed into my hands in the lobby, rubbing them hard and jumping up and down. I turned to Ben to see him laughing.
“What? You’re lucky I survived at all.”
“Your cheeks and nose are bright pink.” He ran his thumb across my cheek. “You’re the most adorable Rudolph I’ve ever seen.”
I laughed, both hands braced on his stomach as I pushed. My fingers tangled in the fabric of his fleece, tugging him back before he could move more than a few inches from me. His hand flexed in response where it was wrapped around the side of my neck.
“It’s tomorrow,” I whispered. “Should we talk?”
He groaned and dropped his forehead to mine. “I don’t think we have time before we need to be on campus.”
“We have half an hour. How long do you think this will take?” I asked with a laugh.
That half smile of his made my stomach flip. “If you’re about to crush me, then I’ll need more than thirty minutes. And if you aren’t going to crush me? Trust me, Juliana. Thirty minutes won’t be nearly enough.”
Everything in me tightened. Flashes from my office—of his fingers tightly gripping my hips, his teeth and lips skimming my neck, the feel of him inside me—burned through me.
“Tonight,” I said.
“Tonight,” he said. The promise laced in that one word kept my mind occupied as we went upstairs to get ready.
An hour and one frantic call with the kids later, Ben and I sat in Dean Warren’s office with two different schedules laid out in front of us for the next three days.
“We’ll start today with a group meeting with the architecture faculty. After lunch, you’ll split up. Ben, you’ll bounce through the afternoon architecture classes to talk to students about your day-to-day experience.”
“Juliana, President Munchen wants you to meet with one of our business faculty members. She was impressed with the professional-development piece of the internship and is thinking about developing a course on the topic the business school would teach. After, you’ll get a break to freshen up, and then join President Munchen and some faculty members for a nice dinner.”
I glanced between our schedules, noticing they’d packed Wednesday and Thursday with back-to-back student interviews. Billings was treating today as a day to network before getting into the nitty-gritty of our program.
The meeting with the architectural faculty was smoother than I expected. Although they had a few changes to suggest, they were happy overall with our plan. As we exited the room, a woman a few years younger than me greeted us. She was beautiful and curvy, probably half a foot shorter than me, with a smile that instantly put me at ease.
“Juliana and Ben? I’m Quinn Riley. I’m in the career office and advise students on internships. President Munchen asked me to take you all for lunch and show you around for the rest of the day.”
“It’s great to meet you, and thank you! Ben’s from here, but the twisting Boston streets are not my friend.”
Quinn laughed. “I feel your pain. When I moved here, I spent the first week lost. I kept ending up next to this giant white church no matter which direction I walked in, and thought I was trapped in some weird vortex.”
“Where’d you move from?”
“Florida, like you. I grew up in Gainesville.”
“I went to school there!” From there, we jumped into reminiscing about the small town that made such an enormous impact on our lives. Ben smiled indulgently as we walked, unaware of how empty his life was, never having tasted Satchel’s Pizza.
We grabbed a quick lunch in the dining hall, and the smells and sounds transported me back to my freshman year. The food and decor were slightly different, but I could almost see Jason walking up the first week of class to ask me out, all smiles and laughter and confidence. For the first time, the memory filled me with sweet nostalgia instead of heartbreak.
“No matter where you go or how nice the school is, the dining hall is always the same, isn’t it?” I asked Ben and Quinn as we enjoyed —the word being used loosely—the salad bar and pizza that tasted like it had been sitting under the heat lamps for a couple of days.
“I grew up on campus,” Quinn said. “Both of my parents are professors, so I’ve eaten at dining halls my entire life. And now that I’ve worked on different campuses, I can truthfully say the food never gets better.” Quinn grimaced as she looked at the depressing pizza. “I’d have taken you off campus if we had time. Blame the dean for the crappy schedule.”
Ben took a giant bite of his pizza. “It’s comforting in a weird way, right? No matter what, you know what to expect. It’s like airports. You know they’re going to suck, but you also know they’ll be consistent around the world.”
I gasped in horror. “I love airports!”
“Then you’re a freak and I want nothing to do with someone who is clearly not in their right mind.”
As we finished eating, Quinn pulled out the map and talked me through the path to the business school, since she needed to guide Ben from class to class. I stumbled around campus, positive I was following her directions but not seeing any of the landmarks she mentioned.
“You look lost.” I pulled my nose out of the map to find a handsome man in his early forties standing in front of me. He was tall, almost as tall as Ben. His dark hair was peppered with gray, which only enhanced his attractiveness, and his light green eyes were startlingly vivid.
“That’s because I am. I’m trying to get to Cooper Hall for a meeting. It’s my first time here, and I have no idea where I’m going.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m headed to the same place. James Stevenson.”
“James Stevenson, the management professor?”
“That’s me.” His eyes darted around like he had discovered his stalker.
“I’m Juliana Ryan. I believe you are my one-thirty meeting.” I juggled the map with my schedule, confirming the name.
“Ah, yes. From the architectural firm down south. President Munchen hasn’t stopped talking about your program. Follow me and we’ll get started.”
We spent two hours discussing my program, debating the best way to reach students and the importance of different professional skills. He was witty and charming, and I imagined his students quickly fell under his spell. A knock on the office door interrupted our conversation, which could have gone all night otherwise. I glanced to the doorway to find Ben standing there, amused by how passionately I was arguing my side.
“I finished up, so I thought I’d come grab you so we could walk back to the hotel together.”
“Perfect! My walking GPS.”
James walked me over to the door, thanking me for taking the time to speak with him.
“It’s a rare person who will happily talk about all of this for hours.”
I smiled back at him. “I’m pretty sure anyone who works in HR would have been just as excited to learn from you as I was.”
“Maybe, but I doubt any of them would have been as charming as you have been. At the risk of being too forward, I would love to take you out for dinner one night before you leave.”
Ben stiffened by my side, but he made no move beyond that. I sputtered, struggling to figure out the best way to handle this. I didn’t want to damage our new relationship with the university, but I was out of practice on how to turn people down gently. James laughed.
“Don’t worry. I can tell when I’ve overstepped. I’m looking forward to our professional working relationship.” With one last smile, he turned back to his desk.
Ben was quiet on the walk back to the hotel. I asked about the rest of his afternoon, getting respectful but short answers. His mind wasn’t in the conversation, and I gave him the space he needed.
We had two hours before dinner, which was scheduled at a fancy steakhouse near our hotel. I took full advantage of the time alone, luxuriating in the shower and using the rest of the two hours on my hair and makeup. I missed my girls, but I never had time to pamper myself this way anymore.
I pulled out a long-sleeved dress I bought for this dinner. The boat neckline swept under my collarbone, keeping it professional and tasteful. The dark blue velvet, which almost perfectly matched my eyes, hugged my body, following my curves perfectly until it stopped right above my knees. I paired it with black tights and high-heeled ankle boots, praying my coat would be enough to keep me warm for the short walk.
Ben was already waiting for me in the lobby, offering his arm as he led me through the streets to the restaurant, never once having to check where he was, like he was following a line on the pavement I couldn’t see. I handed off my coat to the coat checker when we arrived. I looked over my shoulder to ask Ben if he was going to drop his, too, and found him following the line of my dress, his eyes dark and hungry. I gulped, a flush moving across my upper chest and neck. He noticed the blush, and his lips curved at the corners before he leaned past me to hand the lady his coat. He dipped his head so he could whisper it in my ear.
“You look stunning.” I shivered at the touch of his lips, wishing I could drag him into a back corner of the restaurant where we could have privacy. My eyes met his, and his own flared at the desire he saw.
“You all found it.” James walked over to greet us as the rest of our group congregated right inside the front door. I looked for Quinn but didn’t see her.
“Is Quinn not joining us?”
“Who?”
“Quinn Riley.” He continued to stare at me blankly. “From the career office?”
“Oh, right. Quinn. No, we wanted you to get some time with faculty, and she’s just staff.” The statement didn’t sit well with me, but I shook off the feeling as we headed to our seats. I found myself sandwiched between James and President Munchen.
“Thank you, President Munchen, for scheduling the meeting with James. It was an interesting and spirited couple of hours.” James laughed from beside me.
“He said the same. And please call me Maureen. You impressed me on our call, so I am pleased to hear you can hold your own against a person like James.”
I laughed at that. “Hold my own may be a bit of a stretch. I learned much more than I taught. Hopefully, he’ll let me brainstorm with him again after the program finishes to see if I need to tweak anything for the next year.”
“I’d be happy to.”
Maureen smiled brightly. “The sign of a true academic is one who always keeps learning. I’m looking forward to seeing what you accomplish this summer.”
The conversation flowed naturally for the rest of the dinner. The Bostonians unsurprisingly made jokes about how everything in Florida was trying to kill you, and the Floridians (or Floridian plus the transplant) pointedly talked about how nice it was not to have to shovel snow. We made our way out of the restaurant hours later, satisfied by both good food and good conversation.
James grabbed my arm as we all said our goodbyes. “Let me add my number to your phone. Give me a call at the end of the summer if you want to talk about the program.”
As he took my phone, I was hyperaware of Ben’s presence behind me.
“And if you change your mind about dinner, too, you have my number.” He winked and headed off down the sidewalk.
Ben and I walked the couple of blocks back to our hotel in silence. As we stood in the elevator, I broke from the awkwardness.
“I was surprised you didn’t jump in when James was hitting on me.”
“I’m not a jealous guy,” he said blandly. “And I don’t get to decide who you spend your time with.”
The doors of the elevator opened, and Ben started down the hallway at a brisk pace.
“You didn’t seem to feel the same way when Mike was hitting on me outside of Niran’s restaurant.”
He stopped, turning to face me outside of his door. “The guy was being an aggressive jerk. Your body language was clearly uncomfortable, and I was trying to help you out of the situation with as little conflict as possible.”
“I thought it was a little more personal than that.”
Ben stepped closer until there were only inches between us, forcing me to look up to meet his eyes.
“You know what I want. But I want you to choose it. That’s your right. And I don’t want you to pick me because I scared off all the competition. I want you to pick me because you feel the same way I do every time I look at you.”
I stared up at him, drowning in the depths of his gaze. But before I could get my head above water to speak, he turned toward his hotel room.
“Aren’t we going to talk?” I blurted out.
I studied the way his muscles shifted under his dress shirt before he turned back to me. “I can’t have you half in, Juliana. I need you to be sure. And I don’t think you are.”
He slipped inside his room, leaving me in the hallway.
I ran my hands over my face and up through my hair, my body still vibrating from the energy between us.
My mind flashed back nine years to a conversation with Jason. It was a few months after Clara had been born, and I had finally gotten her to sleep. I plopped down on the couch next to him, all nervous energy.
“Okay, here are the things I need you to promise me if I die.” His booming laugh echoed through the house, and I jumped to shush him. “I swear to god, if you wake that child, I am leaving this house for the night and you can deal with it.”
“I’m sorry.” Jason quieted the volume but kept laughing. “That was so fucking dark.”
“To be fair, I grew up watching movies where they killed off the mom and then the daughters were treated terribly. I know they ended up princesses, but let’s just talk now and skip the trauma for Clara, right?”
He shook his head but gestured for me to go on. I launched into my absurdly long list. Everything from not being weird when she would get her period to playing Christmas music all December long.
“Okay. That’s all I can think of. For now. You know there will be more later, but you also knew who I was before you married me, so that’s kind of on you. What about you?”
“What if I die?” He looked off to think.
Had this thought not occurred to him? The question had been on a constant, anxious loop in my head since the moment Clara was placed in my arms. Maybe it was the changing hormones or the combined six hours of sleep in the last three days or the stress of being the sole provider of sustenance for another human being as a breastfeeding mom. But I felt this compulsion to outline everything, like if I didn’t, I was daring the universe to take advantage of my lack of preparation.
“I know you’ll do all the things you listed, obviously.” He gave me a pointed look, and I smiled back, unashamed. “The only thing I can think of is when you start dating. I wouldn’t want you to be alone forever, but when you do, I have requests. He will love you, of course, but make sure he’s willing to take on Clara, too. He needs to be someone who wants to be your partner in it, not just who tolerates her for your sake. And make sure he makes you laugh. You can get so caught up in your to-do list and forget to have fun. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Because you are the funniest man in the world?”
“Clearly.” His eyes danced as he pulled me to his side.
The memory faded, and I was left standing in the hallway of our hotel alone.
He was right.
I was way too young to spend the rest of my life alone. Rationally, I’d known this for years. But understanding the concept of eventually building a life with another person was much less intimidating than the practice. I hadn’t allowed myself to feel anything, and the first time I did, I bolted the other way. Ben had called me out on it, but I didn’t let myself hear it. As I stood frozen, thinking about my husband’s words, I realized Ben wasn’t just anyone. He was exactly the sort of person Jason described.
I had seen so many sides of this man. He was loving and kind. He built me up, championing my success. He teased me and challenged me on my bullshit like no one else. He already cared about my girls and wanted to be a part of their lives. He was the sort of man who would build a life with me without ever expecting me to lessen myself to make him feel better.
Before I could second-guess myself, I knocked on his door. It swung open a heartbeat later, like he hadn’t been able to bring himself to move farther into his room. He didn’t speak, just stared at me expectantly.
“I met my husband on the first day of college at eighteen.” I fidgeted under his stare. He didn’t speak, watching me with guarded eyes. “We started dating right away, and we never broke up. Not once. Not even for a day after a fight as teenagers. I haven’t done this, starting a relationship, in almost eighteen years. And honestly, it scares the shit out of me.”
Ben stayed silent, forcing me to say what he needed to hear. I made myself meet his gaze, finding it soft and affectionate.
“I try to seem like I have everything together. My girls need that from me. The truth is I’m a mess who’s trying to keep moving day-to-day. The idea of opening myself up to a relationship and the hurt that can come with it is fucking terrifying. But I don’t want my fear to stop me. I want to do this. I want you. If you’ll have me.”
We stared at each other for a beat before Ben’s hands tangled in my hair, pulling my lips up to meet his. He pulled me inside, letting the door to his hotel room swing shut behind us.