Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Ben followed Kelly through the back door of Andi's condo, the silence between them heavy.
He'd expected some reaction after that disaster at her parents' house, maybe anger, tears, or even laughter at how comically awful it had been, but Kelly had remained perfectly quiet during the ten-minute drive across town, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
He didn't push. From what he'd just witnessed, she'd had a lifetime of people pushing her where she didn't want to go. He didn’t want to be one of them.
"Two bedrooms are down the hall on the left," she said, the first words she'd spoken since they'd left her childhood home. "You can have either room. I don't care."
Ben set the bags down in the entryway, taking a moment to survey their temporary home.
The condo was modern but welcoming, with clean lines and contemporary furniture softened by colorful throw pillows and framed photographs.
Nothing like the sterile perfection of the Bateman house, with its museum-like quality where nothing seemed meant to be touched.
Kind of like my home.
He didn’t like the comparison one bit.
He carried their bags down the hall to the bedrooms. The primary was on the right with an ensuite bathroom. The second bedroom was almost as spacious, but the bathroom entrance was in the hall.
He quickly chose the latter for himself, placing her bags in the primary. In his experience, women loved having a bathroom to themselves where they could spread out their things.
She wasn’t ready to talk yet, and that was fine. He'd thought she was exaggerating about her family. Now he knew better. The least he could do was get out of her space while she processed what had happened.
Ben was an optimist, but even he couldn’t put a positive spin on that meeting. It had been a disaster, and not a cute one that she’d laugh about sometime in the distant future. Personally, he wasn’t all that bothered by her intrusive parents, but he also wasn’t a fan of how they treated her.
That did bug him. A whole lot.
"I'm sorry."
Kelly's voice was so quiet he almost missed it. She stood in the middle of his room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she were physically holding herself together. When she finally looked up at him, her eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Damn her family.
"I shouldn't have brought you into this mess.
I shouldn't have dragged you across the country to meet my awful family and witness.
.. that." She gestured vaguely in the direction of her parents' house.
"I'm weak. A coward. I couldn't face them alone, so I used you as a shield. None of this is fair to you."
Ben crossed the room in three long strides, closing the distance between them. He didn't touch her; his instinct told him she needed some personal space and distance. But he wanted her to see his face, to understand that he meant what he was about to say.
"Kelly, stop. You're not weak or a coward. Trust me, I've seen weak. I've seen cowardly. You're neither."
Her bitter laugh cut through the air between them.
"You don't have to be nice about it, and now you're stuck playing boyfriend to a woman whose family thinks she's a complete failure."
"You are not a failure," Ben said firmly.
"You're just being polite."
"I'm really not." Ben smiled, trying to lighten the mood. "Ask anyone who knows me. Polite isn't usually the first word they'd use to describe me. Blunt, yes. Straightforward, absolutely. But polite? Only when necessary."
That earned him a whisper of a smile. It was progress.
"Look, I came here knowing exactly what I was signing up for. You were clear about your family. You said they’d be challenging."
“Challenging." Kelly snorted. "That's one way to put it."
"I've sat through board meetings with hostile takeover artists that were more welcoming than your parents' living room," Ben said dryly. "And at least those sharks were honest about wanting to devour me."
This time her laugh seemed genuine. It was a pleasant sound, one he wouldn't mind hearing more often.
Ben's mind kept returning to the strange dynamic he'd witnessed at the Bateman house. Her parents had seemed almost disappointed when Kelly stood her ground, the subtle undermining, the clear preference shown to her sister.
If they showed that much favoritism to Celia, how did they act toward the older brother, Rob? Kelly had mentioned that he was the golden child and, in her parents’ eyes, could do no wrong.
"Can I ask you something?" he said finally, his voice careful, measured.
Kelly's shoulders tensed again, but she nodded.
Ben hesitated, choosing his words with care. This wasn't a business negotiation where he could calculate risks and rewards. This was personal, potentially painful territory.
"What’s going on with your parents? Why do they try to frame you in a negative light?"
The question hung in the air between them.
Kelly's face cycled through several emotions before settling into a bitter smile that didn't reach her eyes.
She let out a long, low sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her, a sound so weary and knowing that it made Ben's own chest tighten painfully.
No matter what Kelly said out loud, deep inside this woman was hurting.
"Welcome to my life," she said, her tone bitter. "Bennett Reilly, meet the Batemans, where success is measured by how closely you follow the script they've written for you, and heaven help you if you decide to deviate. Even just a little bit."
There was something both fragile and unbreakable about Kelly. She was a woman strong enough to pursue justice for her murdered friend, yet vulnerable enough to be wounded by parents who should have been her greatest supporters.
"Do you want to talk about it? Because I have nowhere to go and nothing but time. I doubt I have any great wisdom, but maybe just talking about it and getting it off your chest might make you feel better.”
And he wanted to see her smile again.
She turned to look at him, and he could see those tears still glistening in her eyes. The urge to reach out and comfort her was strong, but he forced his hands to his sides. He didn’t know how she’d feel about a hug, even if it was meant in friendship and comfort only.
"They want me to regret my decisions," she said, each syllable precise and measured. "Specifically, the decisions they disagree with. If I'm a big old loser, then they can rub it in that they were right and I should have done it all their way."
Ben watched her face as she spoke, noting how her chin lifted slightly, how her shoulders squared. This wasn't just venting; this was a truth she had carried for years, examined from every angle, and finally accepted.
"It's pretty simple, really," she continued.
"They have very specific ideas about what constitutes success.
The right college, the right career, the right spouse, the right number of children.
The right everything. My brother Rob followed the script perfectly.
My sister Celia is mostly doing it too, with just a minor deviation to finish college before getting married, but without actually threatening their worldview. "
Christ on a cracker, what dysfunctional parents.
"And then there's you," Ben supplied, his voice soft.
"And then there's me." Kelly's smile didn't reach her eyes. "I started coloring outside the lines early and never really stopped. The more they pushed, the more I pulled away. By the time I was eighteen, we had established a pattern that's never really changed."
Ben had seen enough of the world and people to know that family could sometimes be the source of the deepest wounds. It was the calculated nature of it that struck him hard. The deliberate undermining, the emotional manipulation disguised as concern.
"So let me get this straight," he said, trying to make sense of it. "If you're happy and productive in your life choices, they can't claim they were right. But if you're miserable and struggling, they get to say 'I told you so'?"
"Exactly." Kelly nodded, a spark of appreciation in her eyes that he'd grasped it so quickly. "They want me to be miserable so that they can be right."
Imagine that. Wanting to be right so badly that you wish misery on your child. Shit, some people didn’t deserve to have children.
"And then what? You come crawling back and do things their way?"
The Batemans clearly didn’t know anything about Kelly. She wasn’t the crawling type. Surrender wasn’t in her vocabulary.
"That's the end game, yes. I finally admit they were right all along, I do what they tell me, and then I'll finally be happy.
" The sarcasm in her voice was thick with painful emotion.
"Because happiness, according to David and Jenny Bateman, can only be achieved by following their precise blueprint for life. "
Ben shook his head in disbelief. His own parents had certainly had expectations and hopes for their children, but they'd never made their love or support conditional on following a predetermined path.
His mother had been thrilled when Lulu became sheriff, proud of Chase for taking over the coffee shop, and had supported Ben's business ventures with genuine enthusiasm.
Note to self. Buy Mom a really expensive gift for her birthday. She deserved it.
"Have you done a lot of things your parents don't agree with?"
Something changed in Kelly's posture at the question. She straightened her spine, her eyes flashing with what might have been pride, or defiance, or perhaps both.
"I wanted to go to Northwestern for journalism. They wanted me at the local community college studying business or education—something 'practical.' I got a scholarship to Northwestern. They refused to contribute a dime. I went anyway, worked my way through, graduated with honors."
She was ticking off points on her fingers now, gaining momentum.