Best Friend's Ex Box Set

“Ava, I think there are some things better left alone, okay?” he said. The look on his face begged me not to push, so I let it go.

“Fine, whatever,” I said as I turned back around and looked at my homework. Tears began to well up in my eyes as I thought about how he was shutting me out when I had let him into the darkest parts of my life, but I was determined not to let him see me break down.

“Ava,” Brian whispered in my ear making me jump. He’d gotten up and silently moved across the room. “You can push me away all you want, but at the end of the day I’m still going to be here.”

“But only because you’re being paid to be here,” I whispered at the desk as I bowed my head and I fought back the tears. I was not going to cry.

“Is that what you think?” he said softly as he ran his fingers through my hair and pulled it away from my face. “Do you think I’m only here because I’m being paid to be here?”

I nodded, unable to speak without giving away my fragile emotional state. Brian bent down and scooped me up off of the chair and carried me to the couch, where he gently set me down and then sat across from me. He took my hand and looked into my eyes for a long while.

“I’m not here just for the paycheck,” he said. “Let’s get that cleared up. I’m here because your father hired me, that’s for sure, but I stay because of you, Ava.” He stopped and let that sink in as I looked back at him.

“You’re not going to leave as soon as this is all over?” I asked. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Well, that’s a difficult one, you know?” he replied. “My job requires me to travel, and you’re still in college. You’ve got so much to do and see and experience, and I’ve…well, I’ve lived a really different life.”

“So, you’ll just pack up and leave when this is over?” I said defensively.

“I didn’t say that,” he smiled as he held my hand tightly. “I just said that there were going to be a lot of challenges for us to face. You sound like you want me to stay.”

I nodded, and then the dam broke and I began to cry. I cried not only because I wanted him to stay, but because I was tired of living a life where everyone left. I was tired of being shuttled around from place to place and having nowhere to call home. I was tired of feeling like an outsider in my own life. Brian moved forward and pulled me into his arms. He held me as I cried, sobbed really, just stroking my back and saying “It’ll be okay” over and over.

When the tears finally subsided, I felt as if I’d run a marathon. I was exhausted and hungry. Brian called down and ordered a huge dinner for both of us, and then went into the bathroom and ran a tub full of hot bubbles before coming out and telling me to go take advantage of it before the dinner arrived. I stood up and nearly stumbled. Brian swiftly caught me and carried me to the bathroom, where he gently removed my clothes before depositing me in the hot, scented water.

“Don’t drown,” he warned as he went out to the living area to set up for dinner. I giggled a little and nodded, indicating that I’d do my best to obey his order. As I lay in the tub, I felt the stress of the day sliding away, and I closed my eyes as I tried to relax.

I had no idea how this was all going to work out, but maybe, for once in my life, things would work out in a way that didn’t leave me feeling alone.

*****

I emerged from the bathroom feeling relaxed and drowsy, and found Brian setting up the dinner dishes that the room server had delivered. It was a veritable feast, and my mouth watered as I looked at the plates full of crisp field greens mixed with bright red tomatoes and pale green cucumbers next to dinner plates containing perfectly grilled filets, baked potatoes bursti

ng out of their skins as they dripped butter and sour cream, and pan-fried asparagus stalks coated in bread crumbs and parmesan cheese. I wouldn’t have known all of this had Brian not handed me the menu that accompanied the meal.

“Madame,” he said with a big grin as he pulled out a chair for me and motioned me to sit down. I laughed and sat. The smell of the food made my stomach growl as I remembered that I’d not eaten anything since breakfast.

“This looks amazing,” I complimented him. “Perhaps I should let you order all of my food from now on.”

“Nah, I’m a one-trick pony,” he joked. “I can pick out meat and potatoes, but the rest is beyond my skill level.”

“You’re hilarious,” I said dryly, shooting him a grin as I put my napkin on my lap and picked up my knife and fork. “But seriously, this looks delicious.”

“I aim to please,” he said with a mouth full of baked potato as he sawed at his filet. He ate like a man who had a limited amount of time to ingest his food before it was taken away.

“Slow down, we’re not in a race, sailor,” I laughed. He gave me a sheepish grin as he lowered his utensils and took a sip from his glass of water. We were quiet as we ate, but Brian watched me with a questioning look and I knew he was itching to ask something.

“So, I have to ask you,” he said on cue. “We’ve been together for almost a week now and there have been some harrowing moments that I’ve reported back to HQ, but something is puzzling me.”

“I know,” I said. I’d been prepared for this question from the first day. “You want to know why my parents never call me, right?”

“Yeah, actually, that was my question,” he said, amazed that I’d somehow read his mind. It wasn’t so much that I’d read his mind as it was that I’d been answering this same question for most of my life.

I explained to him that everyone at boarding school and then at college talked about weekly obligatory phone calls or having to check in with their parents or having to ask for money from their parents, and so kids were always asking me why I never had to do anything of these things. No check-ins and no calling to ask for money, instead, once a month I wrote a summary of my activities, printed it out, and mailed it to my father. The money was automatically deposited in my account on the 1st and 15th day of the month, and I was given such a generous allowance that I usually ended up depositing what was left over in a separate savings account I’d started at the boarding school.

“I’m not sure if my father was being savvy and teaching me business skills or if he simply didn’t want me to bother him and my mother,” I admitted. I couldn’t condemn my father, after all, he’d never been cruel to me, just indifferent. My mother was a whole other matter, and one that I didn’t really feel like sharing over dinner.

“But how can they not check in and see how you’re doing?” he asked.