Chapter 24 Clover
Clover
I wake up on Sunday morning to an empty bed. I know I made a fool of myself last night, but if Bennett were just here, we could talk about it. Or at least mutually pretend that it never happened. But he’s not here and all I feel is embarrassed. It’s a familiar feeling in terms of Bennett.
He doesn’t get home until late that night and he’s too chatty.
Like if he can just fill any silence, there won’t be room for us to discuss anything else.
And this sets the tone for the rest of the week.
On Tuesday, my mom drives down to campus and we go out for Chinese food.
She’s so busy at work and fills me in on gossip.
I inhale the familiar rose scent of her perfume, which I always find comforting.
“How’s my little overachiever coping with the course load?” she asks.
“A’s across the board,” I tell her. “Well, pottery is a close call.”
She guffaws. “Pottery? You didn’t even like making the Christmas ornaments your class would make every year when you were a kid.”
“Those arts and crafts projects were pandering.”
“Sure, sure, sure.”
“I don’t know. It’s nice to be bad at something that doesn’t matter.”
She seems happy to hear that. It’s a time every week when my brain has to actively concentrate and create and problem solve.
I do not tell her about Tate or how he missed Monday morning class, because that doesn’t seem unusual, until suddenly, he’s missed Wednesday and Friday too.
I guess it’s just as well, after I shut him down on Saturday night. He was persistent, which I didn’t find unusual at the time, but now in hindsight, I have that sinking feeling in my gut, like when you’ve just narrowly escaped a car accident.
Even though Bennett is mostly gone, I find small traces of him.
A few bottles of my favorite conditioner on my desk.
I’ve noticed too that my drawer of snacks is always magically full and so are my vitamins.
I text him to thank him for the conditioner—which I shouldn’t accept but can’t make myself refuse. His only response is to like the text.
Pizza Tramp has been a Wexley mainstay since the eighties—at least that’s what the student guide said on the tour I took last spring.
After working a few hours overtime last night, I didn’t get home until four in the morning, so when I wake up starving, I stumble over to Briar and Daisy’s room and drag them both off campus for an appropriately greasy meal. Damn the cost.
Outside, the wind is howling and the place is swarming with students bundled up in Wexley Bears merch on their way to the stadium. After I order our pizza (pepperoni and banana peppers), we wait for a table to clear and are lucky enough to snag a booth next to the pinball machines.
When my name is called, I run up to grab our pizza and practically collide with the person reaching for the tray next to mine. “I’m so sorry,” I say on instinct as I take our food and attempt to disappear.
“Not even a hello?” the person asks.
I spin back around, and Tate stands there, a peculiar expression on his face.
“You’re the one who ghosted me this week,” I remind him, even if my stomach sinks at the sight of him. My drunken memory of Saturday night is full of feelings but lacking hard facts, so even though I feel gross standing so close to him, I can’t fully articulate that to him.
He dips his chin in acknowledgment. “Ahh, yeah, I should have warned you. I got an internship that I couldn’t turn down, so I had to get into the evening class.”
“Understandable,” I say, trying to hide my relief. “You’ll be glad to know I finished shaping my vase and it almost looks like something that resembles a receptacle.”
He laughs with that inviting grin that feels like a reward. God, he’s good. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re surviving without me, even if my ego is just a little wounded.”
“Right,” I say with a stiff smile just as someone calls his name from the bar. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
His gaze flickers down to my hand, where my ring should be, and he nods before disappearing into the crowd.
I glance down at my naked finger. I’d misplaced the ring a few days ago. I hadn’t mentioned it to Bennett because I’d hardly seen him and I wasn’t in a hurry to admit that it could be missing.
With our pizza in hand, I weave back into the maze of tables and return to our booth to find that our party has doubled.
“There she is!” Julian sits wedged up against the wall with his arm slung behind Bennett, who gives me an apologetic glance.
“Hey,” he says as he glances up and then casts his gaze downward. “I told them we could grab our own table.”
Daisy reaches across the table and pats his hand. “Why would you do that?”
On one side of her, a very disgruntled Briar rolls her eyes. Tex is doing his best not to crowd the bench seat, but the fact that he is shaped like an upside-down triangle and eats protein like it’s his job is making things difficult.
“Stop trying to tear our family apart,” whines Julian.
“Julian,” I say with a wink as I set the pizza down. “I’m glad to see you still consume half of the oxygen of every room you walk into.”
“Hey, I could be in your bed with my harem right now.”
Bennett gives him a shut-the-fuck-up look as he slides out of the booth with his receipt to get their pizza. He stands up right in front of me, our toes almost touching, and I tilt my head up.
“Hey,” he says, and runs the backs of his fingers down the side of my arm.
Then he leans down to kiss me on the cheek, and I shiver in response.
It’s been a week since we’ve touched and I didn’t realize how famished I was for him.
Then I see the blank stare on his face, because oh, right, we’re in public and we’re married.
Behind him, Julian seems very entertained. “My stomach is going to eat itself,” he yells over the swell of the restaurant as pregame coverage starts to play on the televisions suspended in every corner.
Once he leaves, I scoot into the booth, where Julian yanks me in for a hug.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t invited to the wedding,” he moans. “I would have made the perfect addition to your accomplices.”
I roll my eyes and then glance over to Briar and Daisy. “He means wedding party.” I give him a stern look that I hope gets the message across.
He nods and then slings an arm over my shoulder.
Daisy smiles. “So you’re Bennett’s cousin? Does that mean you got a front-row seat to these two falling in love?”
Julian barks out a laugh. “If that’s what you want to call it, then yes, I did indeed.”
Daisy smiles again, but her eyes crinkle in an uncertain way before turning to Tex. “So it’s Tex?” she asks. “As in Texas?”
“Oklahoma, actually.”
My head tilts to the side as Bennett returns with two more pizzas.
“The nickname is Julian’s fault,” Tex explains. “And my real name is Miles, if you prefer. I certainly do.”
“You don’t let me call you Miles!” Julian protests.
But Daisy’s eyes light up and she launches into something about a ballet scene from Oklahoma! and Tex seems genuinely invested, while Julian lures a skeptical Briar into a conversation about a podcast he’s been listening to about scammy influencers.
“I feel like our kids are meeting for the first time,” Bennett says as he covers his slice of pizza in red pepper flakes.
“There’s a lot at stake here,” I tell him. “Though I think Briar is going to be the toughest to crack. I haven’t even cracked her yet.”
“Julian loves a challenge.”
I reach past him for a napkin and he catches my hand. His finger runs over my ring finger. “Your ring,” he says, voice almost strangled. “Not really your style, I guess?”
That was the furthest thing from the truth. I’d grown quite used to spinning the ring around my finger during class. The fit was just a little loose, so it made for easy fidgeting, but I loved the style. Simple and yet unique. “Um, no, I guess … I must have taken it off when I went to bed.”
“Do you think you lost it?” he asks after a long silence. “When’s the last time you remember having it on?”
I don’t want to hurt him and I know that lying about this now can only lead to more hurt. “Um, Saturday night, I guess. I remember spinning it around my finger while we walked to the party. I usually take it off for pottery, but when I wasn’t wearing it, I assumed that I left it in the dorm.”
He nods to himself, his fist tightening on his drink.
“Shit. I guess it’s possible that I dropped it somewhere between the party and the dorm on my way home.
” The guilt is heavy and real. But it was so dark in that house and I was not in control of my faculties at all.
It could be anywhere really. And that’s not even considering the likelihood that someone just picked it up and pocketed it.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally blurt, irrational tears welling up in my eyes.
“Oh god, I feel awful.” My voice trembles slightly.
I feel like I’ve been careless, and not just with an object.
“I know you said it was fake, but I hope you didn’t spend much on it,” I tell him.
“Can I buy a replacement? Do you remember where you got it?”
He watches me for a moment before the tension in his shoulders eases and he gives me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, it was fake.”
“I’ll order something cheap online,” I tell him. “Or maybe I can make it over to an antique store in the old downtown.”
He nods again, and under the table, his hand wraps around my thigh and squeezes, turning my insides warm. It’s a touch that is for no one else’s benefit but ours. “I’m sorry this week has felt so off,” he tells me.
“It’s okay,” I say softly.
“I wanted to talk to you about walking home so late by yourself,” Bennett says quietly. “I’m going to start meeting you at the end of your shifts.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him, even though I am way too eager for a reason to spend more time with him after the last week. “I always have my cell phone on me.”
“Don’t fight me on this.” His hand is still on my thigh, not as high as it was, but the contact still has me a little lightheaded.
“Okay, fine. My next shift is on Monday night.”
His eyes trace my lips, and I nearly lean in to kiss him, because that’s what married people do, right? We’re in public. It would be no different than any other public kiss we’ve shared.
“Ah, Clover, there you are.”
The voice pulls my attention from Bennett, and Tate is standing there, his hands braced on the end of our table. His brown eyes practically sparkle, and he looks right past Bennett, only giving a quick glance to Briar and Daisy. “Ladies.”
I clear my throat, and Bennett’s grip tightens, the tips of his fingers digging into my thigh.
“Tatum Farris,” Bennett says, his voice dry and taunting.
“Ben, I didn’t even see you there. Only have eyes for this one, I guess,” he says with a nod toward me. “Oh! Clover! Is this skirt chaser the lucky man? This guy really knew how to get around last year. Put the rest of us to shame.”
My mouth opens, but it takes only a second to regain my composure and force a smile despite how unsettled I suddenly am.
“But that’s all old news, I’m sure. You’re a married man now apparently.
Shocking, honestly.” He chuckles. “Might need to send out a little dispatch to the female population of Wexley so they know you’re off the market.
I can think of two dozen women at least who will be very disappointed to hear the news.
” He looks back over to me. “He really has kept you a secret, hasn’t he? ”
Shame unfurls in my belly. The idea of being a secret that Bennett wants to keep buried, combined with him having a whole life last year that I know nothing about, is quickly filling me with anxiety.
My appetite disappears and my throat feels like it’s becoming more and more narrow with each breath.
“Tate, don’t you have some incel support group you’re late for?” Julian asks lazily.
Tate ignores him. “Clover, I meant to tell you. We found a ring at the house after the party. In my bed, actually.”
Bennett stiffens beside me, and everyone’s attention turns to me.
I glance over to Daisy and Briar. “I passed out for a bit before you guys came back for me.”
Tate snorts. “Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Bennett here has been in beds all over town. In this place alone, I could probably count a few.”
I smile, teeth grinding, through the embarrassment and the subsequent anger.
I am furious that I’m supposed to be married to Bennett and somehow the entire campus knows him better than I do.
Including that girl at the house party I went to with Daisy who practically curled around him like a snake.
The image of him in our bed with other girls draped all over him. It adds fuel to the fire.
“You said you found a ring?” I ask sweetly. “Can you send me a picture of it?”
“Sure,” he says, glancing to Bennett. “I’ll text you.”
“Good luck with that Bailey & Parsons application,” Bennett says.
Tate’s mouth flattens into a thin line, and he gives a short nod before leaving. The silence at the table is heavy as we continue to eat.
“We better go,” I say, and Tex shoots to his feet to make way for Daisy and Briar to exit.
I scoot toward Bennett, but he doesn’t move.
His pupils zero in on me, severe and searching.
I don’t know what he wants from me. Am I supposed to say that it’s okay and I don’t mind that he apparently slept with a quarter of the student population last year?
Should I tell him how angry it makes me, even when I have no right to be?
Whatever reaction it is that he wants, I don’t plan on giving it to him.
“I’ll see you later,” I say breezily, and he finally relents.
I walk right past him and out the door, into the chilling fog.