29. Chapter 29
Avery
“So, did you meet Sonny when he came to your company?” Mrs. West asks as she opens a door and steps into a decent-sized room with a king bed and a large dresser.
Male voices rise from downstairs, too quiet for me to understand, and I wonder if I shouldn’t have left Benson on his own.
He was clinging to me pretty tight, but I didn’t want to offend his mom by refusing her kind offer of pajamas.
How much would he want me to say? He’s not here, so I decide to be honest. “We actually met on a flight to Italy last month,” I admit, “and it was a coincidence that my business partner, Eric, had already hired him to help our company. Eric and Benson were college buddies.”
“Italy? Wow.” She brushes a wrinkle out of the gray comforter on the bed, clearly still nervous like she was downstairs.
I’m going to guess Benson has never brought a girl home to meet his mom, which makes me sad.
I can only imagine how excited she was when Kimball and McKay found their wives. “You’re a traveler, like him?”
I chuckle. “I used to be. This trip was out of the norm for me.”
“Not for Benson. I’m sure you know that.” Her smile is wistful as she looks around the room.
There aren’t many decorations in here, and if she hadn’t said something about this being Benson’s room, I would have assumed this was an average guest room.
Honestly, outside of looking similar to his brothers—they all have the same light brown hair and blue eyes—it would be hard to guess Benson is a part of this family at all.
“That boy…” Mrs. West clucks her tongue. “Never could stay in one place for long.”
I’m overstepping, but I ask anyway. “When was the last time he came home?”
“A year ago last April.” She doesn’t hesitate, and her pain filters into her voice, leaving it shaky.
I would hug her if I didn’t think her fragile hold over her emotions would snap if I did.
“He only stayed for two days.” Her eyes widen as she looks at me.
“Oh! But I’m sure he’ll stay longer when he comes to visit you.
” She pats my hand as if that might make her words true.
Huffing out a laugh, I sit on the edge of the bed and shake my head.
“I doubt that. He’s been pretty clear about the fact that he plans to leave as soon as he’s done helping my company.
” Two weeks. I get two more weeks to prepare my heart for him to leave, and just thinking about losing him brings sharp tears to my eyes.
“You haven’t known my boy very long,” Mrs. West says gently, “but I can tell you I’ve never seen him look at someone the way he looks at you. You hold the moon and stars in his world.”
“He’s not going to change just for me.” I sniffle and laugh at how ridiculous this conversation is. I just met this woman. “And I can’t ask him to change for me. That’s not how people work. Benson isn’t going to put down roots anytime soon.”
“He has never been one for attachments,” she agrees, which doesn’t make me feel any better. She’s looking around the room again, a sadness in her eyes. “I haven’t changed a thing in this room since the day he left for college. Sometimes I come in here and wonder if he even lived here.”
“Why is he like this?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Kimball and McKay, they have always stayed close to home. Sometimes more than they should. But Benson? Even as a child, he was restless, and he never could stick with one thing for longer than a few weeks.”
My stomach twists as I think about the fact that I’ve known Benson for a few weeks. Are we at the point where he’ll realize I’m not as exciting as he thought and move on to something—someone—new? My heart aches thinking about it, but can I really expect anything more?
He told me in the beginning what he is. It’s on me if I let myself get heartbroken over him.
“Well.” Mrs. West says, awkwardly patting my shoulder as she stands and heads for the door. “Who knows? Maybe you’ve given him a reason to change. I’ll see about finding you some pajamas.”
A reason to change . I don’t want to let myself hope, but my feelings for Benson refuse to let go of those words as I sit on the bed in the empty room.
Could she be right? I don’t know all of his reasons for staying away from me, but some of them we could solve.
Eric? Not a real barrier. His family? Maybe this weekend will help Benson realize that his perspective might be wrong when his mom clearly wants him around.
Whatever else there is holding him back, we can figure it out together.
The voices downstairs rise, and though I try to ignore them, the sound carries remarkably well now that I’m not talking to Mrs. West. The first thing I hear makes my heart race.
“So you’re going to stick around for once?” It’s one of Benson’s brothers who asks that, and I hold my breath. Waiting. Hoping.
Benson’s response hits me hard, like a kick to the chest. “I can’t.”
“Won’t,” someone says.
The silence that stretches between that word and Benson’s response nearly kills me.
“Can’t,” Benson says again. He thinks that, but his reasons aren’t as solid as he thinks they are, and we can— “I’m heading to Australia next week to work with a client who’s going to push my business to the next level and help me bring on clients from all over the world.”
Something in me shatters. Australia? Next week? But he hasn’t said any…
They keep talking about how much Benson works—too much—but I can barely concentrate.
He’s leaving? I thought his next client was in Alabama, and that job wasn’t supposed to start for another couple of weeks.
And he said he lost the Australian client.
We had a whole conversation about it. So is he just making stuff up to try to sound good in front of his family?
I know Benson better than that. He’s not the kind of guy who lies.
Australia . Next week…
“Here you are, dear,” Mrs. West says, making me jump as she appears at the door with a bundle of clothes. She pauses, studying me for a moment as her brow furrows. “Is everything okay?”
No. I’m as far from okay as a person can get, but I can’t tell her that. “Fine,” I whisper. The conversation downstairs has either stopped or gotten too quiet to hear, but I heard enough. “I’m just tired.”
She smiles warmly and comes to my side, handing me some silk pajamas and an unopened toothbrush. “If there’s anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
I need to know if Benson was serious about leaving next week, but that’s not a question she can answer. “Thank you,” I say weakly. “You’re so sweet to let me stay on such short notice.”
“It’s nothing. You’re welcome any time.”
“Hey.” Benson appears in the doorway, looking like he’s never been as exhausted as he is now.
And he’s planning on taking on even more work?
That can’t be good for him. Sparing only a glance at his mom, he watches me for a long moment and frowns, reminding me how good he is at reading me. “Mom, can you give us a minute?”
“Oh! Yes. Of course.” She pats my arm again and heads for the door, pausing for a moment when she reaches Benson, like she wants to say something to him. But she stays quiet, shaking her head before she steps into the hall and disappears.
Though a part of me wants to pretend everything is fine and I didn’t hear any of the conversation downstairs, I’m tired too. I’ll never sleep if I don’t know the truth.
Benson takes a breath, forcing a smile. “Do you need—”
“When were you going to tell me about Australia?”
Paling, he gapes at me for a long few seconds before his eyes drop to the floor. “It’s not what it—”
“So you lied to your family?” I stand and hug my middle, hating how much I would rather be tucked into his arms than my own. I’m thinking that’s not going to be an option anymore.
Benson blinks, then takes a step deeper into the room and closes the door behind him. “I didn’t… It’s more complicated than that.”
I scoff. “ Everything is complicated with you, Benson. But it shouldn’t be. Are you going to Australia or not?”
“Maybe. I haven’t signed the deal yet.”
“You’re maybe abandoning my company next week?”
He groans, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not going to abandon you, Avery.”
“It sure feels like you are.”
“It’s not that simple. I’m trying to figure out what I—”
“Do you hear yourself?” Tears prick at my eyes, but I hold them back. I need to get this out, and then I can let myself cry. “Benson, if you’re thinking about going to Australia next week, we need to call this what it is.”
His eyebrows dip low, and he takes another step toward me. I step back, and his frown deepens as he takes in the movement. “What are you saying?”
Something I probably should have said that first day he showed up at Rose & Quill.
“I’m saying you clearly don’t want to be with me, so I’m not going to waste any more of my time trying to convince you otherwise.
I’m not your priority, and that’s okay.” It’s not okay, but what can I do about it?
I’ve been fighting a losing battle from the start.
Benson swallows hard. “Avery.” That’s all he says, which is pretty telling on its own. He hasn’t fought for me before, so why would he now?
I take a shaky breath and pray I can keep my voice steady. “We should go to bed.”
He glances at the bed behind me, and though a spark of desire lights in his eyes, he backs toward the door. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“You can have your bed,” I argue, even though the thought of sleeping in a common area of the house when my heart is breaking sounds like the worst.
Already pulling the door open, he shakes his head, pausing halfway into the hall. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. I think he means it.
I’m sorry too, but I can’t bring myself to say the words out loud. I think I could have spent my life with this man, but he clearly has no room in his life for me.
“Goodnight, Avery Grace,” he adds, waiting a few seconds as if expecting me to reply.
I don’t.
The door clicks shut. I don’t move. Not until my knees give out and I collapse onto the bed while my few remaining hopes crumble around me.