Chapter 9
T he problem with opening up to someone a little bit was that it led to telling them even more. The parts of herself she’d guarded so carefully were about to be exposed, but after that kiss, it didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore.
She’d hugged Ben on impulse, and she definitely hadn’t meant to kiss him, but there was no denying her reaction, not with aftershocks still shivering through her. If they ever did more than that, she might not survive it.
She’d found him attractive from the start, but there’d been no connection between that feeling and the idea anything could happen between them in real life. He was off limits, like all men. She’d wanted to help him. But maybe she’d also just … wanted him.
And now she was about to tell him the story she hadn’t told anyone before, because after Mom died, there’d been no one to tell it to. There were reasons she’d avoided this conversation, hadn’t let herself say the words aloud. This would hurt. After years of being mostly numb, she’d let herself feel something, and this was the result.
“I’m not sure where to start.” She paused, took a breath, and felt Ben’s fingers contract, giving her hand a light squeeze. “You already know I left school to get married, after Mom died.”
“Yes, we talked about that part.” Ben stayed quiet, letting her pick through the words she wanted to say next.
“When I didn’t have Mom anymore, I was kind of lost. I was twenty-one, but still a kid in a lot of ways. I felt like an orphan. I barely made it to any of my classes that semester, my grades were awful, and I had no social life. I’d worked so hard to get to college, because I wanted to make her proud. And she was. So proud of me. Then she was gone, and I couldn’t figure out why I was doing any of it.”
Ben nodded. “Understandable. You were grieving.”
“I was, but I didn’t realize how much it would affect every part of my life. I didn’t know how long the process would take, either. When I met Kurt—my ex-husband—I was directionless. And he took charge of everything. He made it easy, because I didn’t have to make any decisions. He decided everything, and I could just do what he said.”
“Decisions about what?” Ben’s tone remained mild, but he sat up straighter next to her.
“About everything. But mostly small stuff at first. Where we went to dinner, what clothes I wore. When I enrolled for the next semester, he helped me pick my classes. I thought it was nice at first. That it showed how much he cared for me.”
She took a deep inhale. “But he also criticized me a lot. I never did anything well enough for him. I was late, or clumsy, or my hair was messy, or I didn’t clean my dorm room enough. Like I said, little stuff at first.”
Ben’s brows came down. “He’s the one who made you think bad things about yourself. The other day, when you said you don’t have any skills. That’s where that came from.”
She nodded. “I guess, when someone criticizes you all the time, part of you starts to believe it. Anyway, he was the one who told me to quit school. He said my grades were bad, and I couldn’t focus, so why not stop? So I did what he said. I was so stupid.”
“You were not,” Ben said, his tone heated. “You were doing the best you could, while someone took advantage of your weakness.”
“I didn’t think of it like that.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. But I can’t let you call yourself stupid in the context of this story.”
No one had ever stood up for her. Not back then, and not since. The fact that Ben was standing up for the past version of her soothed some of the ache of reliving the memory. And he was angry, yes, but angry on her behalf. He’d never take out his anger on her, and that gave her the courage to keep going.
“Anyway. He said a degree wouldn’t help me out much anyway. He wanted to work and take care of me and our kids. And I did want a family. So much. I missed Mom, and I thought starting a family of my own should be my priority. It made sense at the time. But I was so naive. Why didn’t I see what was happening?”
He squeezed her hand again. “None of us are good at seeing our lives from the outside.”
She kept her gaze straight ahead, because if she looked at him now, she might not get through the next part.
“Dropping out wasn’t even the lowest point. A few months after we got married, I found out I’m infertile. We’d been trying for a baby, and when I didn’t get pregnant, I went to the doctor for some tests. I … I don’t know if you want to hear the next part.”
“I want to hear it, if you want to tell me.”
Nell pulled her hand out of his and turned to face him on the couch. “I want you to know the reason why I am how I am now. Not because we’re dating or anything. God, I don’t think you’d want that from me, after I lay all this on you. But we’ve gotten to know each other this week, and with what just happened …”
Ben’s expression turned pained. “We can talk more about that later. But I want to know.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “The night when Kurt came home from work and I told him I couldn’t have a baby … I’d never seen him like that. He changed, right in front of me. Or maybe I just realized how he was for the first time. He yelled at me. Punched a hole in the wall. He didn’t hit me, but I was so scared. I didn’t recognize him. He said … He said he was sorry he married me. And that I was worthless to him now.”
Ben was listening with his whole body, but he didn’t interrupt the flow of her words. His hands clenched into fists on his thighs, the knuckles white.
“And I was so young and stupid, I tried to make it better with him. I thought if I could get on his good side again, smooth everything over, we could get back to how we used to be in our relationship. Not that it was ever good. I know that now.”
“I don’t know how I did it, but I convinced him we could be happy if we adopted a child. I still wanted a baby so much. Marco was twelve months old when we adopted him. I just … I fell in love with him the minute I met him. When the adoption process went through, I knew I was the luckiest person in the world to be his mom. But not Kurt. He was never the same. He just got colder and meaner. And then one day he left. I haven’t seen him since.”
Nell wrapped her arms so tightly around her middle, her ribs ached. She didn’t look at Ben, because he would probably be wearing that kind, compassionate expression on his face, and then she’d cry, in front of him this time. Which could not happen.
“Sweetheart, I am so sorry.” Ben didn’t seem to notice the endearment had slipped out. “I’m sorry he treated you like that.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. But it does help me understand.”
“The worst part is, I feel so guilty. I brought Marco into our lives when our marriage was so bad. And I worry all the time that if I don’t keep everything together, someone will take him away from me.”
There it was. Her worst fear, right out in the open.
“They can’t do that. Unless you’re neglecting him, which you clearly are not.”
“Really?” She let herself meet his eyes for the first time since starting the whole terrible story.
“Really. We have a family counselor on staff who works with cases like this. You are not going to lose Marco. I can even set up an appointment with her, if you want to talk to her about it.”
She took a shuddering inhale, relief piercing her chest. “Thank you. I swear, I’ve worried the most about that.”
“Can I please hug you now?”
She gave an aborted little nod, and Ben’s arm came around her, pulling her close to his side. His hand smoothed up and down her arm. With the truth out in the open, the heaviness of her past lost some of its grip.
“Nell. What happened to you isn’t your fault.” Ben paused for a minute, seeming to choose his words. “That was an abusive relationship. You know that, right?”
She looked down at her lap. “Yes. Of course I know that now.”
“So you aren’t to blame. Not for any of your feelings, or any of the ways you’ve coped with it since then.”
“I guess I know that, too.” She spread her fingers over the leather upholstery next to her thigh. “This couch … It’s magical, right? It makes people tell you things.”
He huffed out a laugh. “This is my therapy couch. But I promise you, I don’t hold any of my patients like this. Or kiss them.”
“That’s a good thing.” Nell put her hand on his forearm, feeling the warm muscle beneath his sleeve jump under her fingertips. “About that kiss … You can see why I haven’t dated. I didn’t trust myself to not mess things up again. I couldn’t take the chance.”
“I do see why.”
“And I think that’s why I had a bad reaction, earlier. To finding out those things I hadn’t known about you before. I don’t think I’m very trusting anymore.”
“Understandable.”
“So you probably don’t want to get involved with me now.”
“I want …” Ben shifted to look down at her. His face was so close, she could kiss him again, and she wanted that. The feel of his mouth, the warmth of his lean body pressed against her. It had only been a taste, and she wanted more. She froze in shock at her own thought train, pinned by his eyes.
“I want whatever we can have together,” he said. “I want to know you. You already know I’m far from perfect myself.”
She frowned, drawing away from him. “But you’re smart and successful. And kind of famous.”
“And I’ve only left the house a handful of times in the last month. All of them with you. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“But it’s not your fault. You have anxiety. A lot of people have it.”
He shook his head, as if he didn’t quite believe her. “I’ve known I had anxiety my entire adult life, and I still let it get this bad. But I’ve changed my medication dose, and you’ve helped me get back out the door. It’s just … I can’t figure out why. Why I wasn’t able to get it under control this time. Which means it could happen again. I’m sorry. I don’t usually sit on this couch and tell other people my problems.”
“But you do with me.”
The corner of his mouth twisted up. “Only with you, it seems.”
“So … What should we do?”
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “I can’t tell you what to do. But whenever a patient in my practice starts a new medication, we do a three-week trial run to see if it’s going to work, or if we need to adjust the dosage, or try a different medicine. Most of the time, we don’t know if it’s going to work until we give it three weeks.”
“The medicine takes that long to work?”
“It does. And I’m wondering if the same might be true for us. We’d have to try dating to know if it works for either of us.”
“And if it doesn’t work out?”
“We’d part ways. No obligations.”
Would it be any easier to say goodbye to him in three weeks? Things could only get more complicated, more messy. But she’d shown him parts of her past no one had seen, and he hadn’t run away screaming. He’d said he wanted to know her.
“I might be willing to try it, except for Marco. I don’t want him getting confused. Thinking we’re together when we’re not. It would be too hard for him when … if it doesn’t work out.”
“We could tell him we’re friends. It does seem like it would be smarter not to tell him at first.”
“I can’t risk hurting him.” Nell stood in a rush. “I’m sorry, Ben. I don’t think I can.”
Ben gave a sad little nod, looking up at her from the couch. “I understand. It was just an idea. A way of thinking about it. But you’ve been through a lot, and I’m not very functional right now, either. Maybe neither one of us is ready to date.”
He shoved a hand through his glossy black hair with its threads of silver, the waves uncharacteristically messy because she’d had her hands in them twenty minutes ago.
Of course he was as worried as she was about dating. He’d shared as much of his own vulnerabilities, maybe more than she had. He needed patience and understanding as much as she did.
She’d stepped closer to him without realizing it. She stood right between his knees, and he looked up at her, brown eyes soft and sad in his sharp, severe-looking face.
She cupped his jaw in her hands and pressed her mouth to his, because she couldn’t resist, softer and much gentler than their earlier kiss. Ben’s lips parted on an indrawn breath. He’d kept his eyes open, and they drew her in, asking her to trust him, telling her it would be all right.
She pulled back a couple of inches. “If we did do this trial run, would you kiss me? As part of the three weeks?”
His expression darkened, pupils widening. “I want to. Unless you say no. Then I would absolutely respect that boundary.”
“Okay.” She pulled in a breath, straightened. “Let’s try one evening together. Maybe have dinner. We can see how it goes. Then I’ll make a decision.”
Where this calm, authoritative person had come from, she didn’t know. But it was her decision to make. At every step, he’d let her lead the way, never pushing her to do what she didn’t want.
Ben swallowed. “One date. I can do that. The, uh … Dinner might have to be at my house or yours. I’m not sure about going to restaurants yet.” He dropped his eyes, looking sheepish.
“Neither one of us has to apologize for what we need. Because it’s not our fault. That’s what you told me.”
“I guess I did.”
“Good, then.” Nell held out a hand to him, and he took it and stood. She glanced at her watch and didn’t even panic at the time. “I have to get back now. I’m supposed to pick up Marco in fifteen minutes.”
“Nell, thank you for trying this with me. Even if it doesn’t work out, I want you to know, I’ll never treat you like you were treated before.”
“I know.” She flashed him a smile, because she did know that much. She might not trust this would work out, or that he wouldn’t hurt her without meaning to. But he would never do it on purpose, never be cruel. And that was enough for now.
Ben held her hand in the car the whole way back to his house. He promised to text her to set up their date. Before he got out of the car, he brought her hand to his lips, brushing his mouth over her knuckles. At the old-fashioned gesture, she shivered, fighting the urge to pull him closer for another kiss.
He lifted his face to hers, eyes glittering almost black. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded breathless to her own ears.
He walked at a brisk pace up the steps to his house, and she watched him go. He’d removed his jacket and slung it over one shoulder, and his walk was lighter, easier than she’d ever seen. A beautiful man, so stern and reserved, but he let her see his flaws and conflicts too. He’d let himself need her.
It was one date. Maybe three weeks of dating. She had choices now, when she’d never had any choices before. And she’d choose to try.