“Who knows about this?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nobody.”
“Nobody? Like… nobody at all?”
He shakes his head. “It’s not something I want anyone to know about.”
I grab his hand again as my eyes search his, and I suddenly feel so close to him that I want to crawl into his lap and comfort him.
“Well…” I pause. “Your mum must be really proud of the man you’ve become.”
He drops his head and I quickly swipe a wayward tear from my cheek.
Ben stays silent, and I know I need to change the subject. “Do you need help blowing up that air mattress?”
His eyes meet mine and he smirks.
“Because I am full of hot air, you know.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
His mouth breaks into a breathtaking smile, and I feel my heart somersault in my chest.
“Probably.”
I point to my plate. “I’m eating this chocolate cake and then I’m blowing up your bed.”
“You are if Natasha and Abbie haven’t broken into my apartment and done it already.” He smirks.
I roll my eyes. “Knowing those two, it’s a strong possibility,” I reply dryly.
He laughs out loud, and it’s like a drug to my system.
Our eyes linger on each other and my heart hurts as regret hangs heavily between us.
Why didn’t he tell me this before?
I just want to hold him in my arms and tell him that everything is going to be all right, but I can’t. I can’t offer him my heart as a sacrificial lamb to heal his.
I’m not that stupid anymore.
Unfortunately, it’s now official…
I know I’m still in love with Ben. Every damaged inch of him.
And I know it’s too late for us. I know I can’t take him back, but looking at him now across the table has me feeling a closeness that has always been there between us.
An empathy, a friendship, and a heartbreak waiting to happen.
I internally kick myself for putting myself in this position.
Go home, Bridget, and don’t look back.
7
Bridget
The walk up the corridor to my apartment is long. Ben wouldn’t let me help him inflate his bed, so we ended up coming straight back to my place. At this very moment I have no idea what I’m doing; I’m a hot mess. Confused doesn’t even come close to describing how I’m feeling. My mind keeps going over and over everything, and I have no idea how to decipher it.
Should I ask him in?
No… definitely not.
I fumble about in my bag for my keys and dig them out. “Here they are.” I smile up at him nervously.
Ben stands still, his hands in his pockets. I frown as I get an image of him going back to his dark and lonely apartment to blow up a bed alone.
All this information about him tonight has left me emotionally weak.
I can’t stand it. I can’t stand that he lost his family when he was just fifteen.
I can’t stand that he doesn’t know how to talk to me.
No wonder he can’t communicate. When his family was alive to show him how to talk, he was too young to understand.
I’m sure the army didn’t teach him anything about his emotions.
My eyes search his and I just want to ask him in.
But I know I can’t.
Fuck’s sake, why is he so hard to push away?
I open my door and he stands behind me, close… too close.
I close my eyes as I feel the heat his body is emitting. His breath on my neck sends goose bumps scattering down my arms.
My heart starts to beat faster and faster. Stop it, stop it, stop it.
I turn in a rush. “Thanks for dinner.”
A frown crosses his face before he has time to mask it, and he fakes a smile and nods.
“I’ll…” I pause because I just really want to ask him in… no! “I’ll see you at dinner at Mum’s on Sunday?” I ask hopefully.
He nods as he takes a step back from me.
My body screams at the distance between us. “Sure,” he replies.
His eyes hold mine, and I know we both want the same thing.
Stop it.
“Bye, Ben.” I force the words from my lips.
“Bye, Didge,” he whispers softly, and with one last lingering look he turns and walks down the hall. I watch him until he disappears.
Half of me wants to chase him down and go with him. Half of me… who am I kidding? All of me wants to go.
Too bad.
Get over him, Bridget. He’s just no good for you.
I sit at my desk and stare out the window. Ben is playing heavily on my mind. My phone dances across the table and I turn it over. The name ‘Eric’ lights up the screen. I close my eyes in regret and let it ring out. He’s called me five times today, as if he can somehow sense that I went out with Ben last night.
I feel bad for not answering, but I have no idea what to say to him or what the hell is going on with me. The perfect guy is calling me and I’m letting it ring out, all while thinking about a man who is completely wrong for me on every level. I stare into space. Aren’t you supposed to grow out of this shit when you hit eighteen?