Chapter 40
I wake up to the weight of Ben draped over me, the warmth of him settling into a bed that technically doesn't belong to him, but after the way he claimed me here last night, I think he made it his.
Yes, we could have gone upstairs to our bed—the one we're used to—but I brought him here. And then, even though I also have a guest bedroom, I asked him if he wanted to take me in my marital bed.
Monstrous? Maybe. But in that moment, it felt like the only right thing to do.
Now it's morning, and the light comes through the shutters impossibly bright—matching my smile.
His face is buried in my shoulder as he breathes steadily. He's been in deep sleep for the past hour I've been watching him. I gently brush his hair from his eyes and he shifts, humming roughly.
"I'm exhausted," he mumbles from his sleep before opening his eyes.
He kisses me and pulls the blanket down, his eyes snagging on my naked body. Then he drags a hand over his crotch and lets out a raspy sound of complaint.
"Damn it. I'm actually dead from the waist down," he mutters. "You sucked the life out of me, baby."
"I'm marking this day in the calendar," I joke. "I was going to ask for another round?"
His brows flick up. "Mmm. Give me a minute to look at your beautiful face and he'll be ready."
I smile, running my thumb on his cheek.
"I wouldn't want Richard to walk in on me when I can't fully perform, though," he adds.
For a second, the humor cuts out, and guilt starts creeping in. Not that it didn't cross my mind last night that he could have come, but now the thought makes me pause.
Ben studies my face. "Are you scared he'll come?"
I let out a small, broken laugh. "I think it's too late for that. This isn't the worst thing he could've walked in on." My eyes shoot toward the door instinctively. "But no... I wouldn't want him to walk in now."
Ben watches me for a long beat, the teasing slipping from his face. Then his voice comes out tight, controlled. "Do you still care for him?"
I breathe in, slow, thinking about it. The corner of my mouth tightens. "Yeah. A little. I think once you care for someone, you don't really ever stop. You just wish them well from far away. Even if you don't think you do."
We both study each other without a word—each for a different reason. When I speak my voice is careful. "Will you tell Lisa about your divorce today?"
His hand finds my chin immediately, tipping it just enough that I have to meet his eyes. "I will. I'll tell her today."
"How do you think she'll take it?"
A slow exhale through his nose as his face pulls back, full of guilt. "Badly, I'm sure. I tried to bring it up before, and she threw a vase at me. Told me I ruined her life. She was... reluctant."
"Reluctant?" I repeat, pulling back a little so I can see him clearly. "Meaning... she doesn't want to divorce you?"
"I don't know." His gaze drops for a beat before looking up again. "I didn't want to upset her further, considering everything and her situation."
My face drains of all color.
"I will do everything I can, I swear I will," he says when he sees it.
"But what if you can't?" I say, shifting on the bed. "What if she doesn't let you?"
He blinks and for a second, the certainty slips off his face before he catches it mid-fall.
"She will," he says then, steady but still not quite convincing. "Her hormones are reasonably unstable now, so she keeps changing her mind. But I know what I want."
I know he says that, but what if Lisa won't let him go?
I mean, would I have any right to say anything?
Of course not. No matter how you see it, I'm in the wrong.
He sees right through me again—my panic turning into a full meltdown, and frowns.
"What are you thinking right now? Tell me," he says, voice low.
"Nothing. I know it's not easy," I mutter and try for the smile that feels practiced and too gracious to be real. Then pivot because that's what supportive girlfriends do—we swallow the ache and turn it into encouragement.
"You'll be an amazing dad, you know. How are you feeling about it?"
A whole storm crosses his face all at once. He draws in a long breath and blows it out. "Terrified, if I'm being honest, but also excited."
I swallow hard, but manage to smile as I brush his hair with my fingers. "I can see you tucking them to sleep every night, making up ridiculous bedtime stories. You'll also spoil them rotten, always sneak extra dessert behind Lisa's back."
He smiles. "That's for sure."
"They'll have your eyes." I run my fingers gently over his eyelashes, then move them to his lips. "Sleep with their mouth open just like you do." I look at him and smile. "And they'll absolutely adore you."
His mouth twists into something dour. "Doubt it. I've made too many mistakes."
I shake my head. "They won't see that. They'll see what you do right and know you'll always sacrifice for them. No matter what. They'll come first."
The lump in my throat starts burning, so I turn my face away before he can see me struggling and pretend I'm checking a spec on my shoulder that isn't there.
He studies me pensively, the morning light cutting over his stubble, then moves my face back to him gently. "You're not being honest with me, Emma."
I look down and swallow hard.
"Give it to me straight, I can take it," he says.
I breathe heavily, biting my lip. Then admit quietly: "I don't know how I'll handle it at times, sharing you."
His face somewhat hardens and he doesn't say anything.
I shake my head. "Not with the baby—with her. Lisa. The baby..." I smile, genuinely. "I'll love the second I see them. A mini you. I mean, how could I not?"
A warm smile spreads across his face, his eyes going thoughtful. "We'll figure it out. And if my baby's anything like me, they'll love you too. From the day they see you. Madly."
I can't help the frown as I stare at the ceiling. "I don't know about that. I'll be the mistress who became the stepmother. The villain in all their bedtime stories."
Ben shakes his head, a faint crease between his brows. "No. I'll tell them the truth, that I loved you from the start, that I was the one who fucked it up, that you saved me anyway, and that you're a saint for taking their stupid daddy back."
I press a kiss into his hair, and get up because it's easier than planning something neither one of us has a clue about.
"I'll go make breakfast."