36. SOFIA
36
SOFIA
I jerked upright on the couch. I must have fallen asleep again.
Lately, I’d been falling asleep more and more. I was so exhausted. It had to be the pregnancy, but the truth was I wasn’t sure.
Maybe something was wrong.
Or maybe sleeping was just easier to get away from everything, to escape from the world.
Don’t be pathetic , I scolded myself, although I knew I was being hard on myself.
I had to get to a doctor soon. I had to accept that I was pregnant and that this was my life now.
I had to make a decision—was I going to choose this life, have the baby and stay in Rhode Island, or was I going to give the baby up when the time came and go to Costa Rica?
The answer was easy. My subconscious had already decided long before I’d actively thought about it. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind—I wanted to raise this baby. However hard it was going to be. However lonely without his or her father by my side… I was going to do this.
I didn’t know why I knew it so clearly, but this baby was a part of me. Literally. And giving this up, a little miracle that hadn’t asked to be in this situation, would be cruel and unkind.
I would never do to this baby what its father’s birth parents had done to him.
The television was still on. I couldn’t remember what I’d watched, but I picked up the remote and flipped through the channels.
Suddenly, Ben was full screen, front and center. I stared, blinking.
It was as if my mind had conjured him.
But no, he was surrounded by press, and he had a microphone clipped to his lapel.
This was a press release and I’d caught it just in time.
Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed members of the press , he started.
He looked so handsome in his tailored suit. His brown eyes were light, his face open. He’d shaved off the stubble on his chin, and I wanted to reach through the screen and stroke my fingers along his jaw, feel what it felt like.
I forced myself to focus on what he was saying.
I stand before you today with a humble heart and a sense of responsibility that weighs heavy on my shoulders. The Harborview Rejuvenation Project has been the subject of conversation for a while, and there have been missteps in our approach…
Ben shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
No. Not our approach. Mine. He took a deep breath and shuffled his weight to one foot, undoing his blazer.
I messed up, and I take full accountability for that. As the leader of this mission, I made errors in judgement, but I get it now. It took me a while to realize I’ve been on the wrong path, but I figured it out.
Everyone was holding their breath, and it was so quiet.
Even I was holding my breath to hear what he had to say.
In my eagerness to succeed, I rushed forward without understanding what exactly was at stake. I didn’t consider the needs of my partner. He looked at the camera, and it felt like he was looking directly at me.
I didn’t listen. I thought I knew better. I didn’t see the whole picture, and for that, I’m sorry. I get it now. It takes more than just a charming smile to succeed. It takes humility, empathy, and willingness to admit when I’ve made a mistake.
So, this is not the end of our journey. In fact, it’s just the beginning. After introspection, after learning from my mistakes I hope I’ve grown, and this time, I’m committed to doing it right. To being there.
He finally looked away. The hair on my arms and neck stood on end. Had he really said what I’d just thought he’d said? Had he really told me that he’d been wrong, that he hadn’t listened, that he hadn’t acted the right way?
That is why , he continued, not looking at the camera anymore, I’m proud to announce that I’ll personally be investing in the rejuvenation of Harborview. This project is not just about business. It’s about community, about making a difference in the lives of those who need it most, and I can think of no greater honor than to be a part of that.
Thank you.
The press rushed closer with their microphones and recorders, asking one question after the next, but Ben held up his hands, telling them he didn’t have any more comments, and he walked away.
One of the PR reps I recognized from the company held up his hands and tried to calm the press, but Ben was gone.
A part of me wanted to jump and go to him. I wanted to ask him if he’d really meant it.
But if he had meant it, if it was about me and not just business, where was he? Why hadn’t he come to me and told me himself?
No.
I was just hearing what I wanted to hear. I was just hoping beyond hope that he would be there for me when the truth was he’d told me that he didn’t want to be involved. To start wishing, to start hoping for something different was just a waste of time.
Happy endings were real and some people did get them, but that wasn’t the case for me.
And that was fine.
I’d done everything I’d achieved in my life without help. I could do this without help, too.
I switched off the television and closed the curtains. It had gotten dark, and it was time for supper.
Despite barely having eaten all day, I wasn’t hungry.
I grabbed a handful of crackers from the pantry and chewed on them on the way to my bedroom, switching off lights and locking up as I went.
Finally, I was in my pajamas, and I crawled between my sheets.
I closed my eyes, exhausted, and fell asleep almost immediately.
And immediately, I saw Ben.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He lifted his hand and brushed the back of his fingers down my cheek before he opened his hand. When he brushed my hair back, hooking it behind my ear, I leaned into his touch, and his large hand cupped my cheek, his fingers in my hair.
“I missed you.”
He didn’t say anything, only looked at me with those eyes that slowly turned from honey to molasses. He stepped closer to me —so his body was so close to mine a sigh could press us together—and he leaned his forehead against mine.
He still didn’t speak.
I drank in his warmth. I felt like I’d been away from him for an eternity, freezing cold, barely holding up, and now that he was here again, his warmth bled into me, defrosting me.
The heat that radiated from him washed through my body and pooled between my legs, and I had a sudden ache for him deep at my core, a need for him to take me, claim me, make me his.
As if he knew what I was thinking, his fingers slid down my waist and over the curve of my hips, then back up, pulling my shirt up as his hands glided over my stomach.
His eyes didn’t leave mine as he lifted my shirt over my head, then dropped it on the ground.
I stood in front of him, bared to him, and he studied me, his gaze roaming from my face, over my chest, to my waist, then back up again.
He took one of my nipples in his mouth and ran his tongue over the tip.
I gasped, arching my back, pushing myself against him.
He cupped the other breast, kneading it.
His touch made me gasp, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the feel of him, the hardness of his body against mine, his rough hands, the heat coming off him.
I slid my hand down the side of his neck and along his shoulder, and I was thrilled to see a small shudder ripple through him.
We were on the bed, then, naked. His body was large, pinning me down, and I loved the feel of his weight on top of mine. My thighs fell open for him, and his hips settled between them. He was thick and hard, his need for me reflecting my own, but his eyes found me again, and I could fall into those eyes and fall forever.
“Ben,” I whispered.
He balanced his weight on one arm, the muscles rippling under the skin as he held himself up, and with his other hand, he stroked my cheek. His cock slipped between my legs, his tip at my entrance, and a shudder of anticipation ran through me.
God, I’d missed everything about him. I’d missed his eyes, the curve of his Cupid’s bow, the way he cocked an arrogant smile. I’d missed his body pressed against mine, the weight of him anchoring me.
I reached up to his face, reveling in the realness of him.
He pushed into me; I let out a moan until he was buried to the hilt, and I shivered around the size of him. He filled me up, stretching me, and my body settled around him.
When he started moving, the friction set my body on fire. My skin burned hot and everywhere we touched, it felt like electricity flowed between us.
He kissed me, and his lips were soft, so soft, and his kisses were sweet and tender.
My breath quickened, and I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, and our movements became faster and more frantic, as if we couldn’t get enough of each other.
He kissed the side of my neck and buried his face in my hair.
My orgasm was building, a deep pressure inside me that was getting harder and harder to control.
“Ben,” I moaned.
His hips ground against mine, and he slid deeper into me, his movements faster. He pushed me closer and closer to the edge, and I gasped and moaned as the fire inside me turned into a roaring furnace.
As the orgasm rolled through my body, the world went silent. There was nothing but the sensation of him and the way his body fit against mine, his skin against my skin, his cock deep inside me, his hand on my breast.
I cried out, the heat washing over me, and I woke up from the orgasm.
I curled on the bed, shivering and trembling from the intensity of the dream, the heat of the orgasm. I rode the wave of pleasure and arched my back before rolling onto my side.
When I blinked my eyes open, I was alone in my room. The covers were twisted and tangled around me, but Ben wasn’t here.
A feeling of loneliness followed in the wake of the orgasm, and I sat up.
I took deep breaths, trying to slow down my breathing, trying to calm down.
He wasn’t here. He wasn’t in my life.
I was alone.
I pulled the covers over myself again and shivered, cold now that the dream, the warmth, the togetherness had melted away, and I covered my face with my hands, wishing that the dream had been real and Ben was here with me to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be okay.