Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Kelsey
Six months have passed since my dad died.
The black hole swallowed me up again, just like when my mother passed away.
Without Ben, I would’ve been lost, but he came back to me, like I knew he would.
He has always put my needs before his, even in the very early stages of our relationship when we were both too young to consider forever.
He is the one thing in my life I can rely on.
I’m not stupid. I know he’s here because of loyalty, not love.
But I’ll have him any way I can. Sometimes you just know that you’re meant to be with someone, that no matter who or what else gets in the way, you have to move the world to make it happen.
And that’s what I did when my dad passed, I used every weapon in my arsenal to get my life back to the way it should be.
The way I planned it. It worked perfectly.
Ben returning to my side as my support is the light in what was a tragedy.
Perhaps my father’s death was some divine intervention to push us back together.
It was the universe aligning and ensuring we get back on track.
When you’ve been together as long as Ben and I have, there are bound to be road bumps.
And the past few years were just that: challenges before we found one another again.
There have been dark moments these past months, like the time a woman turned up on my doorstep claiming to be my father’s partner. She was tall and blonde, absolutely nothing like my mother. I hated her on sight.
“My father’s partner?” I asked, stunned.
“Yes, my name is Jackie. Your father and I had been seeing each other for a few months. I loved him very much. I want you to know…” she said, fake grief edging her tone.
Being confronted by her unexpectedly cracked something inside me.
Change never comes easy, but when I couldn’t confirm her story with the man who knew the truth, I didn’t want to believe her.
Not her. Not now. Not anyone. I couldn’t lose the father I thought was mine.
So, I’d cut her off before she could say something I had to believe, slamming the door in her face.
The last thing I wanted to hear about was some cheap harlot my father had been having good times with.
The audacity of turning up on my doorstep, thinking I’d be interested in what she’d have to say.
I didn’t need her sympathy, and neither did my dad.
My father only had one life partner. And she’s dead alongside him. That was the only truth that mattered.
Ben wrapped his arms around me. Whispering something about not letting strangers steal my peace, then he went outside.
When he came back, he didn’t mention her, just smiled and turned the kettle on.
He sorted the disaster before it could grow, before it could pierce my heart beyond the pin prick meeting her had caused.
She never returned, and I never asked him what was said. She was of no interest to me. The danger was diverted, pain navigated, and things went back to as they were. Me grieving, and Ben managing my world to keep the peace. It suited both of us.
Ben and I have gotten into a routine of living together. We take turns with the housework, split the bills, and spend the weekends watching movies. His hours are long, but they always have been. He lives between our home and the hospital, only focusing on the two things that matter in his life.
Still on leave from work due to depression, I use my time at home to create a safe space for him with home-cooked meals and relaxed conversation.
To show him what could be if he gives us another chance.
I’ve not tried again since my blatant attempt, undressing at his parents’ house.
That had been short-sighted and doomed to fail.
If I wanted him back permanently as my partner, then I needed to show him I was all right too.
Together, we work like a well-oiled machine with years of experience under its belt. He watches me closely, judging my mood each evening. The dark days are becoming less frequent. I’m smiling more, and it’s because of him. Losing him again isn’t an option.
This weekend, the weather forecast is glorious.
I’m going to treat us to a picnic in the countryside.
It’s something we used to do when we were together.
I’d create a delicious spread of sandwiches, cakes, and goodies.
We would find a secluded spot somewhere and lay out our old checkered blanket and sit for hours, savoring the food and each other.
Maybe if he sees how easy it is with me. How good we are together. He’ll finally stop looking backwards. And focus on me, and what our life could be like. How we can forget our time apart, wipe the slate clean, and be us again beyond the grief, loss, and betrayal.
Sometimes, I think of her and what happened between them.
If they were serious or not, if what they had was no more than a fling or a tragic love story.
He’s never said much, only that it was a new relationship, and when my life imploded, he knew where he had to be.
He chose me, so I don’t think I hold any grudges, not many anyway. Though Bex and I no longer speak.
I do miss my London friends. I hope one day we can reconcile and spend time together again. Years of friendship thrown away over broken relationships and fleeting romances is ridiculous. Perhaps we will be able to find a path back to one another again.
Saturday morning rolls around, and all Ben knows is to be ready by ten o’clock.
He appears in the living room wearing an open-necked white shirt and khaki cargo shorts.
His hair is tousled, and his aviators are propped fashionably on top of his head.
Those bright-blue eyes give me the once over, and he smiles.
“You look lovely today, Kels.”
My heart skips a beat. I wore the white lace dress he loves from a few summers ago. My hair falls in soft curls down my back. I’ve gone for minimal makeup, just a touch of lip gloss and bronzer. I want to glow. Show him I’m fixed again and ready to be his girl, though deep down I always have been.
A blush creeps into my cheeks with his compliment. I hope today turns out the way I’m praying it will.
Thirty minutes later, we’re beyond the city and winding through the green fields of the English countryside.
I have the directions to the location printed out on my map, and I’m reading it to Ben line by line.
I found this place after hours of research.
It promises privacy with beautiful views.
Turning up a quiet lane, Ben looks at me suspiciously.
“Should I be checking the picnic basket for a knife?” He raises an eyebrow, and I giggle.
“You have nothing to worry about, darling. If I was going to kill you, I’d have done it months ago,” I purr, blowing him a kiss.
He doesn’t flinch or dismiss me, and I take it as a win. Before, he’s shied from my affection, gently pushing back and reminding me we’re friends, and he’s here to support me. Today is different; he almost leans into my invisible kiss.
We stop at a clearing that opens onto a small lake.
“This is it,” I squeal. “Isn’t it beautiful?” I jump out of the car and run up to the water’s edge. The lake is surrounded by trees and shrubs. Lily pads float lazily across the surface as birds sing happily overhead. It’s like a scene from a watercolor, all vivid blues and greens.
I hear the trunk open and turn to see Ben lifting the big, old-fashioned picnic basket out. With the basket in one hand and our blanket in the other, he walks toward me.
“It’s stunning, Kels,” he says. “And I love seeing you so happy.”
He lays out the blanket, smoothing the edges. Then he starts to bring out the picnic. I set up the boombox and pop in a classical CD. The music floats around us as we sit opposite each other, just enjoying the moment.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but the picnic is eaten, the sandwiches and cakes long gone. We lie side by side, the summer sun warming our faces.
“Ben,” I whisper, “doesn’t this feel just like old times?”
He doesn’t respond, but his breathing hitches slightly.
Taking this as a positive sign, I reach across and lace my fingers with his.
We lie in silence, holding hands for a while, then he props himself up on his elbow and looks down at me.
Our eyes lock, but I can’t miss the flicker of uncertainty.
It hurts in a place I can’t name, just a little, but it’s there.
“Thank you,” I say softly, ignoring the nip. “Without you, I don’t know how I would have survived.”
He leans forward slowly and kisses me; it’s sensual and meaningful. Maybe this is his moment of remembering us. Perhaps today marks a fresh start, putting aside our doubts and anxieties.
I close my eyes, allowing the sensation to wash over me, the joy of him choosing me again running through my veins. Every cell in my body buzzes, my self-esteem building as our lips move. This is it. After months of planning and praying, we are back to where we were. Together, as a couple.
The afternoon has turned out to be everything I hoped for. We strolled around the lake edge, then waded in the shallow waters. Ben held my hand, touched my back, and pulled me close when tears of happiness fell.
“Let’s go home,” he says as the sun fades behind the trees. We pack up, throwing everything into the car and heading home.
That night, I curl into his side and wait for him to pull me closer. He does, after an initial hesitation, and I relax. It’s fine, I tell myself. We’re fine. I’ve won him back.
We’ve never discussed his relationship with Bex in detail, but we’ve both agreed that the time has come when we attempt to rebuild bridges with our friends.
And that means seeing her again. I’m nervous because, in truth, I don’t know how serious their relationship was.
A few months, possibly only weeks. A holiday romance just before he came back to me.
Ben’s never said more than that. Just that he knew I needed him.
That the fairest thing for everyone was to break it off.
And that was the end of the matter. But now, as we walk toward the coffee shop to meet the group, I’m not so sure this was a good idea.
My uncertainty, which has bubbled under the surface since we returned to being a couple, burns in my chest. Heating as we get closer to the meeting point.
It turns out that not much has changed in the past six months. Bex and Amy are still living together in our apartment. Terry moved into Ben’s old room, but I’m not convinced he contributes much. As yet again, he’s out of work.
The five of us meet at a small coffee shop near the apartment. We all sit around the table looking at the floor. No one’s sure what to say. Finally, Terry breaks the ice.
“So, how’re things, you two? Long time no see.”
It’s not a very imaginative line, but I’m thankful he has started the ball rolling.
The chatter is quiet and skirts around the usual topics: work, family, and extracurricular activities.
Bex sits quietly in the corner as far from us as she can get without sitting at the next table.
It’s clear she does not want to be here.
Her eyes are bloodshot, she’s lost weight, and she generally looks unwell.
When I hugged her on our arrival, I could swear I smelled alcohol on her breath, but then again, I may just be imagining it.
Ben and Terry are deep in conversation about work, but I notice Ben’s eyes glancing at Bex regularly.
My insecurity surfaces for a moment, but I squash it down.
He chose me, remember?
Amy’s her usual bubbly self. She looks incredible.
I notice she has a hold of her sister’s hand under the table, as if giving her moral support.
Pity for Bex should fill my chest; this must be a hellish situation to be in, sitting opposite your ex with his girlfriend he chose over you.
I feel the sick smile playing on my lips. It’s nasty, but it’s deserved.
That’s karma, bitch.
The afternoon draws to a close, and we all wish each other farewell, promising to keep in touch. It wasn’t as awful as it could have been; in some ways I enjoyed it. It was nice not to be the pathetic member of the group for a change.
Ben’s talking to Bex in hushed tones so no one else can hear.
Her eyes watch him cautiously, taking in what he’s saying.
She’s shaking her head, and I can see him getting more frustrated.
He leans into her and whispers something in her ear.
She recoils as if he’s slapped her. Her eyes blaze angrily and fill with tears.
“As if you care,” she snaps and marches out the door.
It’s then I notice she’s limping. Amy kisses me quickly and excuses herself to run after her. Terry shrugs his shoulders.
“It’s just how it is, mate. She’s determined to self-destruct.
She seems to hold it together at work, but everything else is a shit show.
” He’s talking to Ben, not me, but I’m listening intently.
“She’s hiding the bottles. Amy found one in the bathroom cabinet last week.
Then she found a bottle of lemonade filled with vodka in the fridge. ”
My eyes widen when I realize what he’s talking about. Ben rolls his eyes.
“If there is anything I can do, you know where I am. I have a colleague who can help with alcohol dependency.” His voice is detached and clinical, as if he is talking about someone he doesn’t know, not a woman he was sleeping with.
Terry nods and shakes his hand, walking in the same direction the two girls left.
The drive back to our house is quiet; we don’t talk much. I know we’re both thinking about the events that unfurled in the café.
“How long?” I ask. “How long have you known about Bex’s drinking problem?” He glances over at me. I can tell he is unsure how much to say.
“Only since last week,” he responds, his tone measured. “Terry called to warn me when this meeting was arranged. Seemingly, it’s been getting gradually worse since I…” He pauses. “Since I left her.”
There’s regret in his voice. It stings more than I want to admit.
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him. “Don’t ever think that. She never knew when to stop. She’s been broken since we were teenagers. Alcohol has always been her nemesis or her Band-Aid for a bad day.”
He smiles at me. It’s sad, but it’s there.
“I know, sweetie, I know.”