10. Ben
CHAPTER TEN
ben
CHEMICAL ATTACK
Ben
Check your front door.
Katy
Ben. You didn’t have to.
Ben
I wanted to
Katy
Well, thanks. I love them.
Ben
I know. Sunflowers have always been your favorite
Ben
Your grandma invited me over for dinner tonight. But I don’t have to go if you don’t want me there.
Katy
You can come. If you want to.
Ben
I want to.
“Stop moving. Keep your face in the water, Ben. You need to rinse that out,” Katy orders.
I knew I should’ve been nervous. This family dinner did not start off well. My cousin Ella maced me in Grandma Patty’s driveway. Accidentally. Allegedly.
The only upside? Katy seems genuinely concerned about me.
“It’s freezing,” I complain, jerking my head out of the bowl of ice water.
“Google said cold water,” she shoots back. “So stop whining. Also, this is what you get for being an asshole yesterday with your eyes comment.”
“Okay, be honest,” I say, squinting at her. “Did you put Ella up to this? Because I feel like we’re even now, Katy Cat.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course not, you idiot. I do like your eyes, unfortunately. And my revenge strategies are different. More enjoyable for me.”
I groan. “Don’t remind me.” Now I can’t stop thinking about her with other men. I have some graves to dig.
She huffs a laugh, but her hands are still gentle as she steadies the bowl. Like she forgot she’s mad at me.
“Seriously, are you okay? Do I need to take you to urgent care?”
I blink hard, eyes burning. “Yeah. I’m totally fine. Can’t say I highly recommend getting maced at a family dinner, though.”
“Ella feels terrible.”
I narrow my eyes. “Does she?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t seem like it. She’s blaming me!” I rub at my face again, wincing.
“You’re such a big baby.” She laughs, but she doesn’t stop fussing over me.
And even though I just got chemically attacked, I’m weirdly grateful for it because she’s touching me like she still cares.
KATY
Poor Ben. His icy blue eyes are red, and he looks like one of those weird hairless cats. But he still powered through dinner, calmly answered Declan’s inquisition, and somehow managed to charm Grandma Patty even more.
After dinner, he helps with the dishes. He’s so cute.
“Come take a walk with me,” he says once he’s done loading the dishwasher.
I blink. “Right now?”
“Yeah. Didn’t Ella say you have to walk after meals?”
“Ben, you just got—”
“Maced,” he finishes for me. “Yeah, I’m aware. My legs do still work, though.”
I cross my arms. “You should probably sit down. Or rinse your eyes again. Or, I don’t know, not walk around in the dark like a liability. Also, I don’t really walk nowadays, I waddle. It’s embarrassing.”
He pushes off the wall anyway.
“You waddle adorably,” he says simply. Then, softer, “You need to take care of yourself. And the kitten.”
Ugh, he knows where to hit me. Because I do worry every day about my baby. If I’m doing enough to keep him or her safe.
I look away, exhaling slowly. “Fine. Might be a good idea to do it more often anyway. Nothing fits me anymore.”
He doesn’t argue. Just steps closer, close enough that I can feel the warmth of him.
“Of course nothing fits, it’s not supposed to,” he says.
I sigh. “I know. But it’s so annoying. I don’t even have a dress for the triplets’ birthday party. I hate how everything looks on me.”
“I’ll help you find something you love tomorrow. Now, come on. Around the block. No talking required.”
I hesitate.
He tilts his head slightly, squinting like his eyes are still bothering him. “Also, if I go blind, I’d prefer it happen outside. One last chance to look at the moon.”
A real laugh slips out of me this time.
“God, you’re unbelievable.”
“Is that a yes?”
I shake my head, but I’m already reaching for the door.
“Five minutes,” I repeat.
“Five minutes,” he echoes.
The air outside is cooler than I expected. It’s quiet, too. And the stars are brighter than usual. We walk side by side, not quite touching.
For a while, neither of us says anything, the steady rhythm of our footsteps is the only noise.
“How are your eyes?” I ask after a minute.
He huffs. “Fantastic. Crystal clear. I can see the future.”
“Ben! Be serious.”
“I am serious. It’s mostly you telling me I was right.”
I bump my shoulder into his. “You’re insufferable.”
“Yeah,” he says easily. “But I got you outside, so.”
I glance over at him. And I really look this time.
His eyes are still a little red. His expression is tighter than usual, like he’s pushing through more discomfort than he’s letting on.
And still he showed up for me. Again.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” I say quietly.
He looks at me like that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever said.
“I know,” he says. “But I wanted to. Just like I want to take you shopping tomorrow.”
My throat tightens because Ben has always noticed the things everyone else misses. When I’m overwhelmed or scared. Or when I’m pretending I’m fine. When I need help before I ask for it.
I’ve always been good at keeping up with the appearances. The perfect Katy facade. He’s never fallen for that.
We keep walking.
No pressure. No expectations. Just… this.