Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
Ben
Aarabelle is finally asleep after an hour of Beauty and the Beast retelling by a six-year-old. I had to wear a blanket as a cape and hide in a closet where I was to stay until I could be nice. Then I wasn’t allowed to eat because I said a curse word and needed to be punished. Of course, Gretchen, being the princess, was allowed to eat all the cookies she wanted as long as she shared with the enchantress.
After that, I was allowed out of the closet, but then she decided I needed to go for a walk outside to think about my temper.
She may be the cutest kid in the world but she has a warped sense of fairytales.
Gretchen sits on the couch, legs tucked underneath her with my cape around her.
“You cold?” I ask and she jumps.
“No, I’m okay now that I’m allowed back inside. You?”
“Well, being outside with no coat wasn’t exactly fun, but at least I had my cape.”
She laughs and snorts. “That was the best version of that fairytale I’ve ever seen.”
“Which part did you like? The closet or making me watch you eat cookies?”
“Both were equally fun.”
“Women.”
Gretchen shrugs. “At least she knows how to manage you guys like a pro.”
That she does. “Aara has had a bunch of men at her disposal to do her bidding since birth. None of us can deny her anything.”
I’m fairly new to the crew, but that doesn’t mean I love her any less.
“She’s very sweet.”
“Yeah, she’s the closest most of us will ever get to having a kid, so she sort of owns us.”
“What do you mean?”
Having kids has never been on my list. Charity sure as hell didn’t want them, which worked just fine for me. Not that I don’t love kids, but I didn’t want to have them deal with me being gone all the time. Then, when my marriage dissolved, I decided it was probably better. I can’t exactly run around, lift and toss them in the air or be the kind of father I would’ve wanted.
“I just mean that kids aren’t really in my cards. I’m happy just being a good uncle to the kids around me.”
Gretchen’s face falls slightly. “Oh, well...then it’s a good thing you have Aara to spoil.”
“Spoiled she definitely is, but she’s a special kid. It’s like she just knows what each of us need. The first time I met her, I had just gotten the job and she saw my leg. She ran over, hugged my good leg and asked if she could kiss my other leg since I had a boo-boo. After that I think she owned me.”
Gretchen’s hands cover her heart. “That’s the sweetest thing.”
It really was. That was the first time I thought maybe I wasn’t unlovable. It was irrational to ever think it anyway, but when your wife leaves because your injury is so repulsive, you start to wonder.
Even now, there are times I question how any woman can look at me and not be repulsed.
Then I think about how Gretchen looks at me and I start to hope again.
“Well, there’s at least one girl who loves me.”
Her lips purse. “What happened with your wife?”
My hand grips the back of my neck and I try to squeeze the tension.
“You don’t have to tell me, but...”
“No, there’s not much to tell. I got injured and when I came back, she was different. It was like my injury destroyed the vision she had. Charity was vain, selfish, and wanted the glory that she got by saying she was a SEAL wife. I didn’t see it before we were married or maybe I didn’t want to. Our divorce was ugly, like her personality, and I haven’t heard from her since.”
“She left you because you were injured?” There’s no mistaking the disgust in her voice. “Seriously? Were you mean when you got back? Or maybe something else because that is—horrible.”
I wish I was mean. Before I was sent back to the States, I actually had a very long talk with the Chaplain. He explained that a lot of marriages and relationships suffer after injury and why. We spoke about how to channel the anger into the rehab and not at the people who loved and cared for me. Charity never saw my despair. I hid it, kept it buried, and did exactly what he said when it came to exerting my energy in the right places. Turned out it didn’t matter because my wife didn’t care regardless.
“Some people show their true colors after the ink is dried,” I say with a sneer.
“I think your ex and Harold could be long-lost cousins.”
I laugh once. “Probably. Maybe we could set them up.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Anything.”
For some reason, talking about this with Gretchen doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does. I want to be open with her, tell her the truth, and I crave the same with her. I want her to trust and bare her soul to me. Which is fucking ridiculous because we’re not the same people as we were almost twenty years ago. Things have changed, appendages lost, time slipped away and I’d be a fool to think there’s a chance here.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
Her question stuns me. “What?”
Gretchen tucks a blonde strand behind her ear. “For living the way I did, agreeing to marry a man who kept me hidden. When I say all of it out loud, I feel like such a dumbass. I’m not a stupid person, but when it came to him, I was.”
I hate that she thinks she has the blame on this. He was the fucking idiot, not her.
“You’re no more of an idiot than I am for trusting my ex-wife. We’re the ones better off without them. If they didn’t leave us then we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
Her voice is soft and wistful. “And that would be sad for both of us. I’m much happier...right now, with you, than not...”
We both move closer, almost like magnets that can’t stop ourselves. With each breath, our bodies pull nearer.
“I missed you when I was gone, which is crazy, right?”
She shakes her head. “No. I missed you too.”
My gaze drops to her lips and I can feel her breath as we both breathe harder. “I think about you all the time,” I confess.
Gretchen’s hand reaches out, touching my cheek. “Ben?”
“Yes?”
Her chest rises and falls, the questions swirling in her eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And then my lips are on hers and my heart in her hands.