~Ben~

“I don’t know how this happened,” Shelly says, in tears. I’m back at the dojo now, and Shelly, Ethan, and I are in my office, wracking our brains. “I know it was in my purse last night. I always zip it into the pocket inside.”

“And you didn’t drop your bag?” I ask. “Maybe you didn’t zip it and it fell and the drive fell out?”

“No.”

“Okay, look,” Ethan says, holding his hands up. “It’s missing. The bank is working on the fraudulent charges. There’s nothing else to be done about it right now.”

“You’re right,” I reply and squeeze the back of my neck. “It’ll get sorted out. I’m going to hire someone to revamp our books so it’s more secure. I should have done it a long time ago. This is on me.”

“Shelly, you should call it a day,” Ethan says. “You don’t have any more classes today anyway.”

“Thanks.” She stands, but doesn’t leave the room. “I’m truly sorry.”

“Go regroup and we’ll see you tomorrow,” I reply and sigh when she closes the door behind her. “What a shit show.”

“You can say that again,” Ethan says. “But I mean it. We’ll get it figured out.”

“I know.” Ethan leaves as well, and I reach for my phone to call Van. It rings and then goes to voice mail. “Hey, Angel. You’re probably swamped at work. I just wanted to hear your voice. Have a good afternoon, and I’ll see you later tonight.”

I end the call and frown. Something has felt off for the past couple of weeks. There’s nothing that I can see, it’s just been a lot of shitty things happening, one right after the other.

I shrug and chalk it up to bad luck just as my phone rings.

“This is Ben.”

“Hi, Ben, this is Sally.” Her voice is shaking, putting me instantly on high alert. “Your mom and I are at the hospital.”

“Why?”

“Well, I’d really rather tell you in person. We’re in room 3344 at Tulane.”

“I’ll be right there.” I end the call and rush out of my office, filling Ethan in as I grab my keys and hurry out to the loaner car.

I fucking hate this loaner. It feels like it takes me an hour to get to the hospital, park, and get up to Mom’s room. Sally’s at her bedside and a doctor is talking to them both.

Mom looks like she’s barely able to stay awake.

“Oh good, Ben’s here,” Sally says to the doctor. “This is Millie’s son, Ben.”

The doctor shakes my hand. “I’m Dr. Coltrain. We’ve admitted your mother, and I have to be honest, Ben, she’s in bad shape.”

“What’s happening?”

“I haven’t told him what’s going on,” Sally says. She’s wringing her hands in nervousness.

“Your mother was given a lethal dose of Ativan.”

“How?”

“Her prescriptions were delivered today, like they always are,” Sally says, “and I gave her her meds, but there must have been a mix up at the pharmacy.”

“Sally called an ambulance as soon as your mother started showing signs of poisoning,” Dr. Coltrain says. “And we were able to counteract the medicine, but she’s still a very sick woman.”

She’s sleeping now, as pale as the white sheets she’s lying on.

“I expect her to make a full recovery, but she’ll be with us for a few days. Today is going to be the worst of it.”

“I can stay with her,” Sally says, but I shake my head no.

“I’ll stay. You go on home. I’d appreciate it if you can come up tomorrow.”

“Of course.” She stands and pats my shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” I reply. When she’s gone, I turn to the doctor. “What medicine did she take again?”

“We sent the pills to the pharmacy to be identified to be sure, but based on her symptoms, I think it was a very high dose of Ativan.”

“That’s a downer.”

He nods.

“Was it enough to kill her?”

“Maybe,” he says with a grim nod. “But we pumped her stomach and she’s actually already looking much better than she did when she first arrived.”

“Shit, she looks horrible.”

“Hear you,” she whispers without opening her eyes. I grin and kiss her forehead.

“You look beautiful.”

She doesn’t answer and the doctor closes his laptop. “I’ll be here for another six hours. I’ll bring the doctor who will take over for me tonight in to meet you before I leave. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to push that red button.”

I nod and sit quietly after the doctor leaves. When Mom is deep in sleep, I reach for my phone and dial Van’s number again. This time it doesn’t even ring, it just goes straight to voice mail, so I hang up and call her office.

“Savannah Boudreaux’s office,” Becky says in greeting.

“Hi, Becky, this is Ben. Can you please put me through to Van? It’s an emergency.”

“I’m sorry, Ben, she isn’t in the office today.”

“Of course she is,” I reply with a frown.

“No, she never showed up. I presume she’s working from home today.”

“Thanks.” I end the call and shoot a text to Van.

Becky says you’re not in the office today. Everything okay? Please call.

When I don’t hear from her thirty minutes later, I call Beau.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi. I’m at the hospital with my mom. There was a mix up with her meds, and she’s going to be here for a couple of days.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says. “How can we help?”

“Well, I’m fine for now, but I can’t reach Van. I saw her this morning, but Becky said that Van never came into work today, and I can’t get her to answer the phone.”

“She probably has it turned off,” Beau says.

“Maybe, but I have a bad feeling. Can you check in on her?”

“Sure. Do you want me to come up to the hospital with you?”

“No. Mom’s sleeping. They’ll kick me out when visiting hours are over. But please check on Van and tell her to call me.”

“Will do.”

But two hours go by and I don’t hear from her. Beau texted and said he spoke with her. She wasn’t feeling well and was napping at home.

Rather than call her like a goddamn stalker, I leave her be and plan to check in on her after I talk to the night doctor and leave for the night.

“Hi, my boy,” Mom says groggily.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Never been so sleepy in all my days,” she says. “You should go. I’m just going to sleep.”

“I’m going to stay until I can talk to your doctor, and then I’ll go.”

“Okay.”

She falls right back to sleep, and less than thirty minutes later the nurse and doctor arrive to talk about their plan for the night.

“I recommend you go home,” the doctor says. “She’s sleeping comfortably, and if anything changes we’ll call you.”

“Thank you.” I stand, but then turn back. “Do we know how the mix up happened? She doesn’t even take Ativan, so it’s not like it was just a mistake in dosage.”

“We don’t know,” he says with a frown. “But it’s been reported and there will be an investigation.”

I nod and leave, wanting nothing more than to see Savannah, and see for myself that she’s okay. Thankfully she doesn’t live too far away.

Her car is in the driveway, and the lights are on in the living room.

“Hello?” I call out after I let myself in with the key she gave me and  walk inside. Van comes out of the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea, sets it down, but doesn’t sit. She also doesn’t look me in the eyes.

“Are you okay, Angel?”

“Fine.” She forces a smile and pulls her zip-up hoodie tightly around her. “Beau told me your mom isn’t feeling well?”

I cock my head to the side, watching her. Something is way off. “She’s going to be fine. What’s going on with you?”

“Oh, nothing,” she says. “Just a bug of some kind.”

I step toward her, but she quickly backs away. “You shouldn’t come near me. I’m sick.”

“Someone once told me that if you’re taking care of someone who’s sick you can’t get sick yourself.”

“That’s silly,” she murmurs. “You know, Ben—” She doesn’t finish the sentence. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat. “You know, I think things are moving kind of fast between us.”

I narrow my eyes, watching her. She pushes her hair off of her face and bites her lip, but her eyes still won’t meet mine.

“I mean, we’ve really rushed things, and I was talking to my counselor this morning, and she pointed out that maybe we should slow things down a bit.”

“That’s a lie,” I reply calmly. She’s upset about something, and she’s trying to run away rather than let me help.

“It’s not a lie,” she snaps. “I’m not comfortable with how quickly our relationship is moving. I think it’s a good idea to just take a break for a bit and catch our breath.”

“I don’t need to step back.”

“Well, it’s not all about you,” she says. She’s irritated and pacing the living room now.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone earlier?”

“I was busy.”

“You didn’t call after you heard about Mom.”

“You don’t get to tell me when I have to call you,” she says, working herself up. “You don’t control me. I’ll call you when I damn well want to. And if I want to stop seeing you, I’ll do that too. It was never going to work.” She laughs humorlessly. “How did we ever think it would work?”

“Because we’re in love with each other and being without you is a hell I don’t want to ever experience again?”

“Stop it with the pretty words,” she yells. “You say all of the right things and then you have sex with me and make me feel things, and I give into you because it all feels good, even if that’s not what I really want. It’s not fair!”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to go. I want to stop seeing you because it’s only going to end badly, and then it’ll hurt everyone we love. I can’t be selfish about this, Ben. I’ve told you that from the beginning.”

“You’re not being honest with me.”

“Stop calling me a liar!” She’s panting now.

“You’re having a panic attack.”

“Don’t tell me what I’m having.” She looks at me now, square in the eyes, and the pain there almost brings me to my knees.

“Let me fix this.” My God, she’s shattering me into a million pieces. “Savannah, I don’t know what made you come to this conclusion today, but you’re wrong. We can make this work.”

“I don’t want to do this,” she whispers. “I can’t do this.”

“Savannah.”

“You need to go.”

“No. I’m not leaving you like this.”

“Goddamn it, Ben, just go.”

I move toward her, needing to pull her into my arms, but she flinches, putting her hand up as if to deflect a blow, and it stops me in my tracks.

“Did you just flinch?”

“Yes. I’m obviously afraid of you,” she says.

“What the fuck, Savannah?”

“Don’t you swear at me,” she replies. “I want you out of my house. I’ll pack your things and you can get them off of the porch tomorrow afternoon.”

I shake my head, staring at her, but she doesn’t move. Her face doesn’t change. She’s panting, her hands in fists at her side, and she’s waiting for me to leave.

So I do. I make myself turn away and walk out the door, down to my car, and drive away from her house.

What in the ever loving fuck just happened?

Once at home, I can’t stop pacing. Thinking.

I’m so fucking pissed off. What is she thinking? I don’t buy the whole my counselor says bullshit. What happened today?

I want to march back over there and make her listen to me, but that will only end in disaster. I won’t sleep. I can’t sit still.

So I call Ethan.

“I know it’s late, but I need a favor,” I say when he answers.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to meet me at the dojo. I need to kick someone’s ass, and you are one of the few I know who can keep up with me.”

“I could use a few rounds in the ring with you. It’s been a minute since we sparred.”

“I’m heading there now.”

Aside from the Boudreauxes, Ethan is one of my closest friends, and one of the best Krav Maga masters I’ve met. He’s an asset to my team, and an excellent sparring partner.

He’s already there when I arrive. It’s dark inside, with just the small dojo lights on.

“What’s up, man?” he asks as I walk in.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I reply. “But you’re going to need a helmet because I’m fucking pissed and I’m going to try to kick your ass.”

He grins. “Fun.” He’s smart enough to get a helmet, and I advance, not pulling any punches. Ethan is shorter than me, but just as strong. He takes me down and we struggle for a few minutes until I work my way loose and reverse our positions. I punch him and then roll away, giving him a chance to get back up.

We go like this until both of us are lying on the mat in exhausted heaps, both of us on our backs.

“You’re pretty worked up,” Ethan says as he struggles to catch his breath. “Is it the financials?”

“That’s only a piece of it,” I reply and sit up. “It was maybe the shittiest day of my life.”

“Shittier than that time you lost in the ring to that kid from Canada?”

“Yes.”

“Shittier than the day you stopped fighting for the MMA?”

“Yes.”

“Do you miss it?”

“The MMA?”

He nods.

“No. I beat my body up daily so I could whoop ass in a cage. I’m too old for that shit now. I like my business.”

“You’re good at it.” He tugs his helmet off and winces. “It’s a good thing I wasn’t stubborn and told you to shove the helmet up your ass.”

“I could go another round.”

He glances at me, surprised. “I’m done, man. Go hit the bag. Or go home and fuck your girlfriend.”

I growl and stalk away from him.

“Ah, she’s one of the problems.” He laughs. “Makes sense. My wife drives me batty eighty percent of the time. But she’s the best thing I’ll ever have in my life.”

“I don’t really want to talk about women,” I reply. “You can take off. I’ll punch the bag for a bit.”

But after he leaves, I don’t have the energy to keep punching the bag. I can’t go home. There are too many memories of Van there, and I’ll just make myself crazy.

So, I go to my office and lay down on the couch. It’s quiet here at night. Haunted as fuck, with footsteps up in the attic. I use it for storage, and where the footsteps are, is currently covered in boxes.

But that doesn’t bother me. I’m used to it.

What bothers me is that Savannah has shut me out. If she thinks it’s over, she doesn’t know me very well.