CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sunday morning, Lizzie woke with Ben on the brain—same as when she’d fallen asleep. He stirred up a gaggle of foreign, uncomfortable feelings that she now had to muddle through and make sense of. When she was with him, the world seemed right. But as soon as she stepped away, doubts flooded in. She’d gone to bed planning to break up with him, but laying here now, she wanted to do the opposite.
“What should I do, boy?” she asked Charlie. “Should I tell him I like him?”
That would be weird. Then again, everything about this was weird. It was as if he’d burrowed into her soul with no plans to decamp. She never found herself on this end of a relationship—well, not since she was seventeen. And look how that had turned out. She’d told a boy how she felt and watched the whole thing go sideways.
She kicked herself. That was over a decade ago. She was thirty years old. It was about time she moved on from that loser, Riley. If she ever wanted to find a man—and the idea wasn’t quite as repulsive as it had been a month ago—she’d have to overcome her fear of rejection and her need to always be in control.
“Screw it,” she said, picking up her phone. No way she would say it out loud, in person, to his face. But a text shouldn’t be that hard.
I like you. She typed it out, then stared at it. Three little words. So simple, yet so terrifying. Should she run it by Lucy? No, Lucy was busy with her family. Lizzie already knew she’d be fully on board anyway. Her sister was a sucker for love and expressing it. No, Lizzie had to put on her big girl panties and do this all by herself.
“What is wrong with me?” she asked the dog.
Charlie looked up and cocked his head. “Damn, you’re cute, mutt.” She reached out to pet him. He lumbered up onto the couch and laid his ginormous head on her lap.
“Fine, you’re right. I’ll just do it.” Lizzie hit send and threw the phone onto the loveseat kitty-corner from her. “No take backs now. Come on. I can’t sit around all day and wait to see what he says.”
She leashed up Charlie, and right as they were about to leave, she heard the ding, indicating she’d received a text. Reluctantly, she dug her phone from the couch cushions.
“I can’t look,” she said, turning the screen to Charlie. “What does it say?” Charlie barked and stared at the door.
“You’re no help.” She inhaled deeply and opened the text.
I like you too—winky face.
He liked her too. And a winky face? Her heart filled, and she let out the breath she’d been holding.
She couldn’t deny the extra pep in her step while walking Charlie. Thoughts of what to get him for Christmas ran through her mind, along with how she should act the next time they saw each other. This was a step in a relationship she hadn’t taken in a very long time. In her mind, it was more serious than the sex.
Her updated attitude called for an updated look. It required something drastic. Something long overdue that her sister would be more than happy to help with.
“Luce? What are you doing today? Can you come to the mall with me?”
Lucy choked. “Who is this?”
“Ha. Ha,” Lizzie said. “I know it’s been a while, but I need some new clothes.”
“Jack. I have an emergency. Can you watch Connor?”
“An emergency?” Lizzie heard Jack say.
“Lizzie wants to go shopping,” Lucy said.
“And that’s an emergency?” Jack said.
“A-hem,” Lizzie said, coughing into the phone.
“Trust me, honey,” Lucy said to her husband. Then to Lizzie, “I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.”
An hour later, Lizzie remembered why she hated shopping. “This was a terrible idea. The mall around Christmas? I must have been insane to suggest it.”
“Let’s just get you something cute to wear, and then we can have lunch.”
“Define ‘cute.’”
“Not black.”
Lizzie looked down at her outfit—black skinny jeans, black sweater, and black boots. “Fair enough,” she said. “But nothing too crazy. No flower prints or dresses.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Lucy said, holding up a plain red sweater. “How about this? Or in the light blue? It would really set your eyes off.”
“The blue’s all right I guess.”
This went on for an hour or so. Lizzie purchased two new sweaters—one red for Christmas and one periwinkle that Lucy insisted on, several three-quarter-length sleeved blouses—her favorite for work, a new pair of jeans, and some brown boots.
“That’s enough for now. How ’bout lunch?”
“Yes. I’m starving,” Lucy said. “Pour House?”
“You read my mind.”
“Of course I did. I always do. Which makes me wonder why you haven’t mentioned the real reason for your mall visit.” Lucy emphasized the comment with a pointed stare.
“Huh?” Lizzie said.
“Spill it.”
“Fine. I think I like Ben. It’s weird. I thought maybe I should get him a Christmas present. But I don’t know. It’s still really new.”
Lucy played it cool, but Lizzie could feel the excitement rolling off her sister. “Well, let’s see. Nothing too personal. Didn’t you say he liked photography? What about something in that field?”
“That’s a good idea,” Lizzie said. “I’ll check it out.”
The Pour House was a popular place. This time of year, it had spillover seating that stretched out into the food court.
As they approached, Lizzie caught sight of the back of a man’s head and did a double take. It seemed familiar. When the man spoke, she froze. It was Ben. With some woman. Having lunch together.
The woman giggled, flipped her hair, and ran a hand down Ben’s arm, her hand lingering on his. All the stuff women do on first dates when they like someone.
“What’s wrong?” Lucy asked, stopping alongside Lizzie. “Hey, is that Ben?”
“No. And nothing’s wrong. I just remembered I told Justin I’d go to work today. Pour House is too busy. I don’t have time to wait.” She grabbed Lucy’s arm and turned her around, heading in the opposite direction of the restaurant. “Can we just grab fast food on the way back to my place?”
“I guess,” Lucy said. “You’re acting really weird.”
“No weirder than usual,” Lizzie said with a smile, trying to joke her way out of the awkwardness.
“That was Ben at the restaurant, wasn’t it?”
“Just drop it, okay?”
The ride home felt like the longest of her life. She knew Lucy sensed something was wrong, but did not want to get into it with her now. Or ever.
Seeing Ben with that woman made her feel seventeen all over again. Sure, they weren’t technically “together,” so he wasn’t really “cheating,” but it still had the sting of betrayal. An “I like you” text probably seemed inconsequential to Ben. But to Lizzie, it was monumental. To put herself out there. To admit she had feelings for him. That was huge.
But while she’d been fretting over texting Ben, thinking of buying him a present, and mulling over the possibility that he could be more than a fling, he was making plans with some other chick.
“Thanks for driving,” she said to Lucy, getting out of the car. “See you later.”
“Well, don’t forget your stuff,” Lucy said, nodding to the back seat.
Lizzie grabbed her bags and waved before speed-walking back to her place.
Charlie greeted her at the door.
“I’m such an idiot,” she said, hugging the dog. “When will I learn?”
Of course Ben wouldn’t be any different from all the other men she dated. She chided herself for even entertaining the idea that he might be unique. She knew better than to listen to her heart and should have stuck to her instincts.
About thirty minutes later, she got a text from him. Asking her to dinner that night before his poker game! Was he joking? He must have just gotten home from his lunch date. The gall of this guy.
Sorry. Gotta work.
She wasn’t scheduled to go in, but there was no way she’d sit at home and wallow. That most definitely was not her style. She put on some of her new clothes, did up her hair, and went to work. A bonus of going to work was that she could avoid Lucy. And Daisy, who was still on her back, also wanting information. She had no patience to deal with her family right now.
Guys hitting on her was nothing new. Put a few drinks in a man, and he always thought he had a shot. She usually let them down easy, and everyone walked away happy, but tonight was different. She wasn’t in the mood for flirty banter. Every couple she saw reminded her of what she didn’t have. And probably never would.
Even before she saw him, she felt Ben walk in. The weird connection angered her. He was searching for something. Or someone. When his eyes landed on her, he beelined to where she stood. As he made his way through the crowd, she tried to cook up a smile for the stranger who’d just ordered. If they were seeing other people, fine. She could play his game.
“I’d ask if you come here often, but I know you do,” she said coyly to the man, making sure Ben was within earshot.
Ben approached and glanced between Lizzie and the man, confusion, annoyance, and a touch of hurt on his face.
“Hey,” he said. “I didn’t know you had to work tonight.”
“I didn’t. Just thought I’d help out.” She tried to keep the curtness out of her voice but failed. Subtly was not her thing.
“Can we talk?”
She raised her eyebrows and waved her hand as if to say, “Go ahead.”
“Somewhere else?” he said, leaning in. “I get the feeling something’s wrong.”
“As you once told me, always trust your gut.” She turned and left. Right out the back door and to her car, Charlie on her heels. Ben was smart enough to read between the lines. They were done.
It might have been a little over the top to storm out, but she wasn’t in the mood to hide her disappointment. She wasn’t breaking it off just because of the lunch. The whole situation was a poignant reminder that feelings were a slippery slope to pain. A slope she had neither the skills nor the will to navigate.
She walked away feeling like she’d eaten a rock-filled loaf of French bread. It was a sensation she was not accustomed to and did not appreciate. Breakups were her forte, but this one had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. She never should have let him in.
It was still early, barely six o’clock. She thought of calling Lucy, but then she’d have to talk about the mess she was in—hard pass.
She loaded up Charlie and drove home. Was she overreacting? Maybe. But it was better this way. She didn’t see a scenario where she and Ben could work out anyway. They were in different life phases. He was about to send a child off to college and hadn’t been in a committed relationship for almost twenty years. Not that that was a deal breaker, but she hadn’t had one either, and someone had to know what they were doing.
When they returned to her condo, and she fed Charlie and made herself a sandwich. “This is a good thing,” she told the dog. “Less painful to do it now. I’ll be fine in a few days.”
She hoped that was true. It scared her how much she liked him. How vulnerable she’d felt with him. Luckily, Christmas was approaching, and between a bustling business at the bar and family get-togethers, she’d be too busy to fixate on a wounded heart. By the New Year, Ben Mansfield would be a long-lost memory.