Chapter Thirty-Five
Ben
One week later, I sat in Ava’s kitchen on a painting tarp, brush in hand. She wasn’t kidding about the yellow. It wasn’t school bus yellow, thank God, though I would’ve backed her no matter what color she chose. The idea was to enable her to start living her life instead of living in the past, because the more time I spent with Ava, the more apparent it became to me that she was doing just that.
She only talked about things that happened ‘before.’ Before her friends left. Before her parents died. Before she’d grown up. Before she opened the bakery. It took me a few weeks to realize that she never talked about her future, and rarely about her present, with the notable exception of her bed and breakfast project.
I wasn’t trying out for the spot of her therapist or anything, but it was obvious she wasn’t happy even before the fiasco with Jules. The least I could do was help.
And it wasn’t entirely selfless, either. I loved hanging with Ava. She might live in her own past, but she had no problem at all asking me about every aspect of my day and trying to help however she could. If I was being honest, she was exactly the kind of partner I’d want in life. But that was getting way ahead of myself.
“Seven Nation Army” had just started when someone knocked on the door. Ava shot up like a rocket, remembering halfway there to set down her paintbrush. Moments later, Riley followed her into the kitchen, her face serious and withdrawn. It was odd to see her so intense. Riley was a bubbly bundle of fun and laughs, at least in my limited experience. That was more Liam’s thing, though. Or should be, at least. But that was a whole different problem.
“I can’t stay,” she said, frowning at both of us. Her eyes widened when she noticed the project that was underway. “You’re painting the house?”
“Just the kitchen for now,” Ava smiled, shifting her weight anxiously. “It was Ben’s idea.”
“It’s a good one,” Riley agreed. She wet her lips then turned to Ava. “I know that I was supposed to move in here this week, but Jules begged me to get a place with her. We’re renting an apartment downtown together.”
Ava looked at her feet, shuffling them some more. “I understand.”
It broke my heart to hear the defeat in her voice and know that I was the cause. As I watched Ava take hit after hit just because she wanted to date me, I couldn’t help but wonder if I should be the one to leave. Because I sure as hell didn’t want to be the one causing her all this pain.
“That’s not all,” Riley continued, her face sympathetic. “I told her that she shouldn’t make any rash decisions and should take as much time as she needed to think about it, but,” she sighed, “she’s out.”
Ava’s face blanched. “Out?”
“Of the pact. She’s not doing the B&B anymore. She’s taking the fast-food job.”
Also because of me. Not only had I derailed Ava’s life, I’d somehow managed to injure Jules a second time. If I hadn’t tried dating Ava, Jules might have come to work with me. I could tell she’d been considering it after we spoke. Per the usual, I fall for someone and they get hurt.
Every time and counting.
“Are you still in?” Ava’s voice broke when she asked, and I wondered if I should start packing up the paint supplies. Even I wasn’t in the mood to rock out and get shit done anymore. And as hard as it was for me to watch, I knew it was ten times worse for Ava.
“Yeah, I think so,” Riley reached for Ava’s upper arm and gave her a squeeze. “I’m hoping she’ll change her mind in time. But I did warn you something like this would happen.”
“I know,” Ava whispered. “You were right.”
“Look, just give her some time. I’m sure she’ll come around. But until then, I’d give her space.”
Riley said her goodbyes and headed out, leaving deafening silence behind her in that tiny brown kitchen.
I stood and walked over to Ava, fully expecting her to cry. I wanted to cry for her. Instead, she went and picked her paintbrush back up.
“This kitchen isn’t going to paint itself,” she muttered, dipping the brush and continuing where she left off.
Following suit, I went back to my spot and started in again. “Did you want to talk about it?” I ventured.
“Will talking undo it?”
“Probably not.”
“Then I think I’d rather paint.”
I smiled to myself. “Fair enough. Let’s paint.”
Paint we did, for several hours, until we had the first coat on all the walls. Stepping back as we tidied up, I had to admit that it made a huge difference. If we painted the cabinets, too, and did the trim, it would be a new kitchen.
“Are any of the other girls coming tomorrow?” I asked. Tomorrow was the inspection, and I couldn’t quite suppress the ball of nerves in my gut when I thought about what it would uncover. I knew that Ava had been waiting for this since she first toured the house.
She shook her head. “I thought Riley might, but it sounds like they’re going to be busy. Gianna and Viv can’t come up on a weekday.”
I swallowed back the urge to apologize profusely for the entire situation. She said she didn’t want to talk about it right now, and I wasn’t going to push her. Instead I held her tight, tilting her chin up so I could kiss her properly.
All that pain she was trying to hide was because of me.
I wished I could just kiss it away, but I grew more and more worried that there was only one way to fix it.
And now that I finally had her, I wasn’t sure I could let her go.