Chapter Sixty-Six Before—Poppy
| Sixty-Six |
Before—Poppy
Before I left the office, I noticed something.
Isabel’s journal. I’d seen it on her nightstand when she would come visit.
What was it doing on Bennett’s bookshelf?
She must have forgotten it here after her last visit.
I grabbed it and left. Sitting down on the living room sofa, I opened to the first page and began to read.
I can’t believe it finally happened. I’ve been in love with Bennett since I was fourteen. But back then he saw me only as his little sister’s friend. Now I’m twenty-six and the awkward teenager he used to know is long gone.
He’s still asleep as I write, his chest rising and falling, and I’m struck by the surrealness of it.
We were celebrating last night and finished off two bottles of wine.
All night I kept hoping he would kiss me, that he would finally realize that we are meant to be more than friends.
I sat close to him and the heat of his body made mine tingle.
He was high from the news, his future as bright as the sun.
He toasted to my idea for his final twist, called it brilliant. He’s on top of the world with his book deal, the praise of the New York Times, all his success, and he clinked my glass and said, “To us.”
I beamed, basking in his gratitude, and told him we make a great team.
I held his gaze and then he moved toward me, his lips pressing against mine, and it was divine.
The most exquisite kiss I’d ever had, even better than I could have imagined.
Soon we were peeling off each other’s clothes and then we stumbled into the bedroom where we made love for hours.
I waited for him to tell me that he loved me, but he didn’t.
I held back the words I so desperately wanted to say.
It was the only thing that marred a perfect night.
The morning felt different. He mumbled a “morning” without opening his eyes.
No kiss. Just a complaint about a headache from too much wine.
I asked what was wrong. He told me he loved me but that he wasn’t ready for anything serious.
He said he took advantage of me and when I tried to protest, he insisted that we dial things back.
And I’m back in the friend zone, offering support but nothing more. But I can’t say no to him. I’ve never been able to. Besides, he’ll come around. He’s just overwhelmed right now. Once things calm down, he’ll see what I see: that he and I are meant to be.
I couldn’t believe what I was reading. There was something between them. My original instincts had been right. Why hadn’t Bennett been honest about it? Had they only had that one night together? I turn the page.
5/2/23
It’s been a few months since I’ve seen Bennett.
Taking care of my father has been a full-time job, but I still get back to my New York office once a month.
It’s actually been a good distraction for me since Bennett went and got engaged.
I couldn’t believe it when he told me. And after he said he wanted nothing serious.
He acts as though that night between us never happened.
But I pretended to be happy for him. After all, having some part of his life is better than none.
But I’m happy now. He texted me that the bitch left him.
Sent him a text and adios. He asked me to go over and console him.
When I got there, he had candles lit, wine open and poured.
I played it cool. Made him work for it. But then his hand moved to my leg.
My whole body felt flushed and I sat motionless while his hand continued, under my skirt, higher and higher, until he moved my panties aside.
“I want you,” he whispered. “So much.”
He pushed me down on the sofa and moved on top of me, his mouth covering mine, his tongue probing. I returned the kiss and closed my eyes, relishing the feel of him. I was drunk with passion and so was he. He finally came to his senses.
5/3/23
My dad fell and broke his hip. Bennett drove me home, like we’re a proper couple.
He went with me to the hospital and stayed the night at the farmhouse.
The next morning, he sat me down and I took one look at his face and knew what was coming.
He told me he would end up hurting me if we stayed in a romantic relationship.
That he couldn’t bear to lose me as a friend.
I begged and I cried. Humiliated myself.
But he wouldn’t budge. He told me to find someone else.
Sometimes I almost hate him. I wish I could stop loving him.
I will find someone else if only to make him jealous and return to me.
My horror grew with each entry. Bennett had destroyed poor Isabel.
He’d gotten engaged again and when Devon broke it off, he called Isabel to his side, and she came.
And they had sex. Again. On and on it went, a saga of manipulation and gaslighting.
Then he married me. No more entries after that.
But Isabel had been such a good friend to me.
Was it all an act? Or was this diary even true?
And why did Bennett have it? Isabel had told me that she was the one who gave Bennett the twist for Promise Me Never.
Maybe this was another device they came up with together for another story.
Because she can’t possibly be in love with him? Surely, no one is that good an actress.