Chapter Two
Ginger
“Hello, Ginger.”
Those were the first words Ben said to me, and all I could think was this bastard.
How fucking dare he!
I glared at him because he fucking deserved it, and he just stood there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, looking at me.
It had been months. He’d left a few years ago, but he had been back in town for several months. It had been big news when he came back, after all, everyone made a big deal about it. The rumors going around started to die down when people rarely saw him come out of his family’s hotel, but he did come out sometimes, usually to see his dad.
But…not once. In all those months, not once had he come to see me. Or tried to call me, or sent a message to me through his sister, or made any effort to try and contact me.
The first thing he said after we finally saw each other was ‘Hello, Ginger.’
In the beginning, I’d been anxious to see him, too. I was still mad, but I knew he’d enlisted. I wondered the kind of person he’d be once he’d come out because I knew all about how people could be different when they were discharged. I’d gone to the hotel a couple of times, feeling worried, even. But I’d been too chicken every time to go inside, and I’d scurried back to the salon.
I had wanted to talk to him. We had plenty to talk about, after all. But I never dared to try and initiate it, until I started to wonder why I had to be the one putting in any effort, feeling so fucking awkward and even stalkerish, listening to rumors for any news of him. Gradually, my anger had grown.
Now, he turned up at the salon. After all that shit, here he was, and he was acting as if we were long lost best friends or something when we’d been so much more to each other. Acting as if he’d never walked out on me and left me to deal with hell on my own.
Acting like we ever meant anything to each other, when he could have come to see me the moment he got back and didn’t.
Well, I wasn’t going to be nice about it. I turned my back on him and ignored him. I reached down to pat my daughter’s head and gave her a strained smile, but she was still too young to notice it, or so I hoped.
“I’m sorry, honey,” I said quietly, leaning down so my voice wouldn’t carry. “But Mommy’s busy right now. You know you’re not supposed to bother Mommy when she’s working, right?”
She pouted up at me. “But Mommy, I’m bored! I’m done with the coloring already.”
I glanced over to the corner she’d been relegated to, where some books, crayons, and toys were scattered. She was good about sticking to her space and not bothering everyone while they were working. It was the only reason she was allowed in the salon at all. It’d been the same for me when I was younger, and when I sent an exasperated look at my mom, she just returned it with a smile and a knowing glance.
“Just give me a few more minutes then, okay?” I said, carding my fingers through her hair, the same blonde shade as mine and Mom’s. “Give me a few more minutes to finish up with this customer, and I’ll come give you a juice box, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?”
She still looked unhappy, but she nodded. “Fine,” she muttered, then sighed. “I’ll just go and draw something.”
I smiled at her back as she trudged back to her corner, then turned back to the client, my smile dropping when I caught sight of Ben in the mirror.
He’d moved closer when I wasn’t paying attention, and I just barely stopped myself from jumping at the sight of him. Instead, I focused on my client, forcing my mind to completely ignore his presence.
It was hard, as it had always been. Ben just wasn’t the kind of guy that could be ignored. Tall at six feet, with those broad shoulders and wide chest, that he had on full display in a tight, black t-shirt. His dark, luscious hair, deep blue eyes, and naturally tanned skin. He was as gorgeous as ever, if not more so because being in the Navy had increased his muscle mass so that he looked slightly bigger than before.
Also, in the short moment I’d caught sight of him in the mirror, I’d noticed the shadows hidden in his eyes, like he’d seen things in the Navy that had left scars. That look had pierced right through my chest, but I did my best to ignore it.
You do not care about this man, Ginger. You cannot.
I chanted the words in my mind on repeat, but I still noticed when he shifted closer and automatically turned my head toward him before I stopped myself.
Shit.
“Sorry to bother you at work,” he finally said after standing there like a lost puppy for several minutes. “But I wanted to ask if we could talk after you’re done here?”
My lips flattened. This bastard!
“Could you please tilt your head a little,” I said to the client as I nudged them a little with my fingers, my voice a forced calm. “Just like that, thank you.”
I went on with my work, forcing my mind to focus on the task at hand. I was styling the woman’s hair, and she was one of those particular clients that would make a big fuss if I ever make a mistake. Ben was a distraction, but I wouldn’t let him mess with my work.
In a few more minutes, I was done, and I stepped back to let the client admire her hair. I put my tools down on the counter and wiped my hands down on my apron. Ben was still standing there, staying quiet again, and I glared up at him.
“I’m busy today, so I don’t have time for you,” I said with forced politeness. “Please, leave.”
I made the dismissal clear. The only reason I wasn’t cursing him out was that we were at my work, and I was pretty sure all the ears in the room were focused on us, ready to start new rumors to spread. I turned my back to Ben and went to where I’d left my bag. I’d promised my daughter a juice box. I picked it up from my bag, and took it to her. She looked up at me with a happy grin as she grabbed it.
My eyes were stinging, and I turned away from my daughter quickly. I didn’t want her, or my mom, or Ben, or our clients see me cry. So I fast walked to the back of the salon, and as soon as I was out of sight, the dam broke. The tears I’d been holding back for the past several months overflowed and spilled.
Why was I crying over a man that had left me years ago, and reappeared only to take months even to see me? Because as much as I would love to lie to myself, and pretend I didn’t care, I was mad at him and completely hated him. However, I couldn’t deny that it was good to see him again.
That I loved that man, and it hadn't changed for me.