Chapter Twenty
RACHEL
Why is it so bright out? It’s completely unnecessary for a day like today. I pull my sunglasses lower on my nose, but it doesn’t help. Everything feels too loud. My head aches, pulsing with every car horn and birdcall. Why is everyone so cheery and awake already?
Ugh, I’m never drinking again.
Flashes of last night come back. Bits of him, of the cemetery, of myself. I try to push them away. I grip the steering wheel tighter as I pull into the driveway. The house looks exactly the same as when I left it. But I feel different. Blurry around the edges.
Ben’s car is in the driveway. I shouldn’t be surprised. He lives here, at least for a little while longer. I was hoping to avoid this conversation, at least until the hangover eased, but it’s impossible. It’s now or never.
I kick off my shoes by the door and toss my keys into the bowl. My stomach churns, and I know it’s not just the hangover. It is the impending conversation that last night made impossible to ignore.
Just breathe, Rachel.
You could never give me a damn thing, and I’d still show up for you. I’d still want you safe. I’d still want you to know you matter.
Ben’s voice drifts down the hall, clipped and low. He is on the phone again, clearly annoyed. I freeze for a second, listening. My body coils tight, waiting for the impact of last night. He hangs up just as I step into the living room.
His eyes catch mine. They flick up from his phone. Is he even mad at me for not coming home last night? Ben’s eyes stay on me. I can feel him trying to read something in my face, but I don’t give him anything.
“Rach.” His tone is flat.
“I need to sit down,” I grumble, moving toward the couch. My legs feel heavy, sluggish. I drop onto the cushions and press the water bottle to my lips again. The room tilts slightly, but I ignore it.
“I didn’t expect you home so early,” he mentions, crossing his arms over his chest.
I stare at the ceiling and rest my hands in my lap.
“I’m tired, Ben. I think I need a nap,” I say finally.
Ben steps forward, stopping just a few feet away. His eyes scan my face. “Yeah, I can tell. Jesus, Rach, you look like hell. Did you even sleep last night?”
I shrug. “Not really.”
His stare lingers, but he doesn’t come any closer to me.
“You and Margo must’ve hit it hard.”
“Margo left after the second drink.” I’m done avoiding the inevitable.
His brow furrows. “So… you drank alone?”
I give a dry, bitter laugh. “Yeah. Why else do you think I called you?”
He looks down, rubs a hand along his jaw. “Oh yeah. Forgot about that. But hey, I got second place in that round of poker.”
My head jerks up. “Of course you did,” I snap, taking a long pull from my water. My stomach twists, but I don’t stop.
Ben’s gaze sharpens. “If Margo left you, where were you all night?”
I meet his stare with one of my own. “Oh, now you care enough to ask where I’ve been? What I’ve been up to?”
“Don’t get smart with me, Rachel.” His voice hardens. “I’m just trying to understand what the hell happened last night.”
I push to my feet. My knees shake, but I stay upright.
“I’m just so tired of it all, Ben,” I laugh. “You don’t notice me. You didn’t even remember that I called last night. You don’t check in. You don’t show up. You just expect me to wait around until you’re ready to pay attention again. And I’m done. I’m tired of fucking waiting, Ben.”
Ben steps forward, closing the distance. His proximity almost makes me nauseous. “I had guys’ night. I communicated it to you earlier this week, and you told me to go. What, now I’m the villain for doing what you suggested?”
I flinch back a step. “It still felt like I didn’t matter.”
He tightens his jaw and leans in slightly. “You always do this. You say one thing, mean another, then punish me for not reading your mind.” He pauses, rubbing a hand over his face. “Honestly, Rach, I’m too—”
You are an undeniable force.
I cut him off, crossing my arms over my chest. “Don’t give me the ‘I’m too busy’ excuse, Ben. Not today.”
He narrows his eyes. His whole body suddenly stops moving. “Maybe we both need to take a step back and give ourselves a minute to calm down and become rational.”
I stare at him for a second. His arms crossed over his chest. He is going to make this my fault, I know he will. That’s how this always ends for us.
I shake my head and turn away. “No, I’m not stopping. I’m being rational.”
“Jesus,” he shouts, and it startles me. “Save me the performance, Rachel. You act like you’ve been some warrior for this relationship. Like you’ve actually been trying. You walk around like a victim, and I’m just supposed to take the hits.”
I whip around, eyes flashing. “You’re really going to stand here and try to make this”—I gesture between us, my fingers shaking—“my fault? You’re un-fucking-believable.”
He steps toward me again, but slower this time. His tone changes as he pretends to be soft with me. “You know I love you, right?”
The emotional whiplash hits hard. His voice drops, trying to make a wound heal with words.
But it’s too late. He reaches to touch my shoulder, and I jerk away.
“You’re just… you’re going through something.
And I’ve been trying to give you space. I’ve been trying to be patient.
But it’s like you don’t even see that.” His eyes are wide, almost pleading.
“I’ve stood by you through everything, Rachel.
Don’t throw that away because you’re having a bad day. ”
The old me would have believed him. I would have swallowed my feelings, folded myself smaller, let the apology sit on my tongue because asking for more felt selfish. But I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I’m sick of being that girl.
“No, Ben. The only version of me you like is the one who exists to please you. And I hate to tell you, I don’t exist to please you.”
I grab my jacket off the chair, keys digging into my palm.
He calls after me, voice slipping back into that sharp edge. “Call me when you’re ready to be an adult and actually talk!”
My keys bite deeper into my skin as I clench my fist. Every part of me hums with frustration and something colder. I’m so fucking done with this.
I walk out without saying another word. I slam the door behind me. The sound follows me down the porch and out into the cold.
The morning air is sharp as I stand on my front porch. I just need a minute to think.
I try to focus. I try to piece together the rest of last night to make sense of what I’m feeling. I know Ben isn’t what I need. That part is clear to me. But I want to be sure I’m not doing this for anyone else. I want to know I’m making this choice for myself.
I remember the bar. The drinks. Margo leaving before I was ready. I remember how much I didn’t want to go home. I remember the moment I realized Ben wouldn’t even think to come find me.
And Rhett did. He didn’t know where I was, but he still came.
He sat next to me at the cemetery and didn’t try to talk over my silence or my rambling. He didn’t rush me or make it uncomfortable.
He showed up.
He didn’t make me feel like a burden.
Rhett may not be in love with me. He may not see me as anything more than a friend or an obligation. But in less than a day, he treated me with more care and respect than Ben ever has. I can rely on Rhett.
He didn’t make me feel like I needed to apologize for having feelings. He didn’t make me feel like I had to shrink myself to be acceptable.
I turn back to face the front door. I’m done. I’m not going to willingly spend another moment in this relationship.
When I open the door, Ben is still standing in the same spot. And, of course, he’s back on his phone. He sets it down the second he sees me, playing concerned now.
He lifts his eyebrows. “You’re back fast.”
“I didn’t go far,” I say flatly.
“You cooled off?”
I let out a dry, bitter laugh. “That’s what you think this is? That I needed to cool off?”
His jaw clicks. “You stormed out like a child. What was I supposed to think, Rachel?”
“That maybe I’ve finally hit my limit.” My voice is calm. “That maybe I’m done making excuses for how invisible you make me feel.”
Ben straightens, a mocking grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. “Here we go again. Poor Rachel, never seen, never heard. It’s a boring storyline, Rach. It’s always the same shit. You’re exhausting. This fight is exhausting.”
“No. You don’t get to flip this on me. Not this time. I’m not doing this dance again with you. No more half-apologies, no more excuses. No more pretending like I’m crazy for wanting something real from you.”
The room goes quiet.
Ben narrows his eyes. “You done?”
I say nothing.
His jaw shifts, chewing down a laugh. “God, you really think you’re better than me, don’t you? You walk around like this perfect little victim, acting like I’m the one ruining your life.”
I walk past him toward the bedroom. Talking with Ben is a waste of my time. There is no reasoning when it comes to him. I’d rather spend my time packing a bag to get the hell out of here.
He follows me a few steps, arms crossed as he stands in the doorway. “So now you’re icing me out? What, you think walking around all silent and righteous makes you the bigger person?”
I grab a duffel bag from the closet and drop it on the bed. “I’m not icing you out. I’m finally thinking clearly. You should try it sometime.”
He laughs under his breath. “Right, because you’ve always been the stable one. You drink too much, cry too often, and somehow it’s my fault you’re miserable.”
I turn to face him. “I asked you to show up for me, and you chose poker. Again.”
“It was one night, Rachel.” He shrugs, dismissive. “You seriously need that much attention? I can’t have just one night with my friends? Do you hear yourself right now?”
“That’s the problem, Ben.” I take a step toward him. “It’s not one night. It’s every night. Every time I ask for more, you act like I’m impossible to deal with. And every time I shrink to keep the peace.”
Ben’s jaw clenches. “And now you want to act like you’ve been so amazing? You don’t think I put up with things you do? You think you’re easy to love? Newsflash, Rachel, it ain’t that easy.”
I flinch out of reflex. I can’t lie and say no part of me believes him.
“I don’t feel like myself with you,” I say, quieter now. “I feel like I have to earn your affection. I’m too much and not enough all at once. It’s confusing, Ben.”
He takes a step forward, and I think he might try to patch this fight up with fake niceness.
But instead I watch a cruel smirk skirt across his face.
“No one else would put up with you. You know that, right? The crying, the mood swings, the constant need for validation. You think that’s attractive?
You’re lucky I love you, and I’ve stayed as long as I have. ”
I step back, but I don’t drop my gaze.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t say something just to hurt me, Ben. Just be honest with yourself.”
“You want honesty? Fine. Honestly, I think you’re selfish, Rachel. You have managed to make everything about you. I bend over backward, and it’s still never enough for you.”
“You don’t bend at all,” I say, exhausted with this conversation. “You avoid. You deflect. You turn every conversation into a way to make me feel smaller.”
Ben’s voice drops to a growl. “So what now? You’re just done?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I am.”
He stares at me, and for a minute, I can see the anger in his eyes.
I walk into the bedroom, floorboards creaking. I start packing: clothes, chargers, my toothbrush, Rhett’s hoodie. Whatever else I might need, I know I can borrow from Margo. Behind me, I hear him pacing. His steps are heavy and erratic.
“One bad night and you’re throwing this all away?”
“You really think this is about one night, Ben? God, seriously. Aren’t we past this part of the fight already?”
He throws his hands up. “You stormed out after you picked a fight. And now I’m the bad guy? It’s time to grow up, Rachel.”
I pause. My voice is steady but final. “I’m not asking you to take the blame. We’re clearly past that point. I’m telling you it’s over between us.”
I grab my duffel and head out of the bedroom.
Ben’s face twists. “Where do you think you’re going? You think Rhett’s gonna save you? Is that it?”
I freeze. “What?”
“Come on,” he spits. “You think I’m an idiot?
I saw the way you look at him. I hate to be the one to tell you, but he doesn’t look at you in the same way you look at him.
You really think he would want a girl like you?
He’s just being nice. You’re his dead buddy’s sister.
He pities you, Rachel. He’ll get tired of you and leave again. ”
You’re still her, Sunny.
I blink, my chest tightening as he confirms and throws all my intrusive thoughts at me.
“This has nothing to do with him,” I say quietly.
Ben shakes his head, disbelief etched across his face. “If I have to be honest, then so do you.”
“It’s not about anyone else, Ben. I don’t know how many times I have to say that to you for it to get through that thick skull of yours.
” I sling the duffel over my shoulder, feeling the weight of every decision I’ve made.
“It’s about me. I’m done settling for less than I deserve.
I don’t want someone to tolerate me. I want someone who actually wants me.
And you’re not willing to give me that.”
His face hardens as he tosses, “You’re being overly dramatic. You’ll regret this.”
I pause in the doorway, every nerve screaming. “No. I’ve already spent too long regretting staying.”
I look back over my shoulder, eyes locked on his. “The lease is in my name, Ben. It was my house before you moved in. I need you to move out. You can have the place for a week to get your shit together.”
I shut the door behind me, and I don’t look back.