BEN IS DUE HOME any second and I’ve been sitting at Kate’s table biting my nails like a nasty habit. We all agreed to meet here before going our separate ways.

“Nervous Nun over there, you excited to see your rock star?” Kate interjects my thoughts.

“Are you excited to see your rock star?” I retort. I know those two have had a terrible week. Even though they aren’t exclusive, Kate thought that them sleeping together meant only they were sleeping together. Eric, however, sees it differently.

“I don’t know if I’m nauseated because the thought of seeing him excites me, or if it’s because I’m repulsed and still pissed that he screwed some groupie with Barbie doll tits.” I frown, feeling for her. I don’t know what I would do if Ben was actually sleeping with other women while we were a couple.

“I’m sorry. Did y’all work it out?”

“Yes and no. I told him I would forgive him just this once, but only if he promises to not do it again.”

“And?”

“Well, he agreed and went on and on about how much he likes me and how he only thought of me. I get that we aren’t exclusive or anything, but why have sex with someone else if it “meant nothing” or only made him “think of me?”” Air quoting herself, I understand fully what she means.

“Are you gonna be able to trust him whenever he goes back out on the road?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Who even knows what we’ll be after this weekend.” Kate’s become vulnerable for the first time over a man and my heart aches for her.

“Kate. Is there something else you’re not saying?” I question her, catching onto the way her body language screams that she’s clearly affected more by this.

“Eric and I have done things…things that I’ve never done with a man and they kind of scare me.”

“Like what? Oh my gosh, Kate, is he hitting you?” I noticed bruises on her when I saw her last time, but she insisted they were nothing.

“Not in the way you think he does. But he’s into BDSM. Some real hard shit that I’m not used to. That’s all.” What in the world is that? It even sounds scary.

“BDSM?”

“It’s sex with kink, very serious stuff. Safe words, chains, whips, ass spankings, the whole nine yards.” I gulp, my eyes widening.

“Kate, that’s abuse.”

“No, it’s not. This is a fetish and it’s consensual. Sure, it scares me sometimes and I straddle the boarder of enjoying it and not liking it all, but it isn’t abuse. If I told him no or to stop with one word, he would.”

“So then why does he do it, why can’t you guys have normal sex?”

“It’s the only sex he likes. If I say no or don’t do this, then I don’t have him at all.” I shake my head.

“Kate, isn’t that abuse? Isn’t that forcing you to do it in order to keep him?” I’m genuinely concerned for Kate. I can’t believe she waited this long to tell me.

“Maybe—no—I don’t know, I guess that’s what him and I have to work out. We all have our issues.”

“Just promise me you won’t do anything just to make him happy. Make sure you’re happy and safe and doing it for you.”

“Promise, Sadie Jay.” Interlocking our pinkies, we wink at one another and as if it were planned, there’s a knock on the door.

“Kate, baby! Open up, daddy’s home!” Eric yells on the other side of the door. My tummy runs wild with butterflies as I stand from the kitchen chair and make sure my new skinny jeans are fitting me snug and my cute floral chiffon v-neck top is sitting on my cleavage just right. My heeled booties compliment my smaller frame and give me some height, making my shorter curvy legs look longer and leaner. Kate was shocked I bought this whole ensemble, but for Ben I wanted to look sexy but still keep myself somewhat modest. My favorite gold cross still adorns my neck, like it always does.

I fixed up my hair with a longer freshly cut bob, sitting atop my shoulders, a mix of wild and messy on purpose, while my makeup is Audrey Hepburn inspired—a winged liner with some blush and a dusting of nude gloss on my already pouty lips.

The door opens and Eric immediately wraps Kate up in his arms and they make out like no one is here, our conversation long forgotten. Biting my lip I see Ben skate around them in his grey beanie matching his grey t-shirt and black leather jacket and skinny jeans. But what has me gasping and rushing to him in worry is his black eye.

“Oh my gosh! Ben! What happened!” I crowd him, still only reaching his chest with my wedged shoes. I peer up at him and lightly touch his swollen, yellow and purple eye. His hands grip my hips and hold extra tight, like he’s checking to see if it’s really me.

“Your hair is different, you look stunning.” He looks me over, completely ignoring me.

“Ben. Baby, your eye—what happened?” I whisper softly, changing my approach.

“Let me take you to my place and I’ll explain. Nick is out in his car waiting for us.” Nodding, I say bye to Kate and Eric as I make my out the door after Ben. I walk a few steps behind him, my stomach in knots.

“Nick, hey.”

“Hey, Sade. I’m digging the haircut.” We settle in, Ben and I taking the back for privacy. He stays looking out the window with our locked hands bouncing on his bobbing knee.

“Oh, thank you. I wanted to try something different.” I touch my shorter hair and Ben peeks a look at me.

“It looks beautiful,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss me. I taste the mint he must have popped in his mouth after a recent cigarette and I actually enjoy the taste, missing it after so long without it. We linger on one another, his full lips on mine, barely touching, still more intimate than most kisses. I scoot closer, dying to get closer to him and he takes me without pause, my hands on his chest as Nick turns up the radio a little, letting Panic! at the Disco give us more privacy.

“Your eye looks painful. I hate that you’re hurt. Promise me you’re okay,” I whisper and he nods.

“I am now. You make everything feel right again.”

“You too, Ben. I missed you so much.” With little to barely any words, he pulls me in close, my legs dropping over his, with my head on his shoulder and his lips against my forehead, peppering it in kisses.

§

“Stay out of trouble you two, and Sade, I’ll see you soon, sweetie.”

“You too, see ya!” We climb out and I help Ben with his luggage. Climbing up the stairs, we stay silent as I follow him inside his apartment on the third floor. I’ve never been here before and the image of Ben is all over the place—it’s the first thing I notice. There is a piano next to the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Opposite that there is a guitar on a stand and an intricate black coffee table in the middle of the room that matches his black sectional. His record hangs in a glass case above his couch with a picture of him and the band outside the record studio.

I admire his smile in the picture, reaching from ear to ear, like a little kid’s, a cheeseball if you will. I love seeing him happy over all he has accomplished. It makes me unbelievably proud to call him mine.

“Come sit down, baby.” I didn’t even notice him sit.

“Okay, what happened?” I ask now that we’re alone.

“Alright, Sadie. Some of the things I’m going to tell you are not going to be easy to say and I know they may not be easy to hear.” He’s terrified, his hands shake in mine and I do my best to surge some strength into him, tightening my grip on him.

“It’s okay, Ben. It’s me, remember?”

“I know.” Dropping his head, he gnaws at his lip. “I have a severe anger disorder, Sadie. It’s called Intermittent Explosive Disorder. I was diagnosed when I was in the foster system at seventeen, after my dad was taken to prison for killing my mother.”

“Ben.” His father killed his mother? The foster care system? This perfect man has a past deeper than I knew was possible. With a bombshell dropped on my once protective bubble, I lose my mind for a moment, trying to run laps around what he just said.

“The drugs are a way of coping, the weed calms me down but the cocaine gives me adrenaline.”

“For what?” What could he need adrenaline for, he’s already high-strung and full of energy.

“Memories of my father or the abuse me and my mother went through.”

“Abuse? You and your mother were both abused?” My heart splits in half as he nods. My momentarily dry concerned eyes are now drowning in water. I don’t bother to catch my tears as I watch every movement on his broken face.

“My father used to beat us. Bad…really fucking bad. It was almost every other day starting when I was six. God knows how long he beat my mother before that.”

“He beat your mother to death?”

“Yes.” With that I watch his eyes dilate as if he’s seeing it all in his head again. “It was my fault. It should have been me.”

“You? How is it your fault? And Ben, please don’t say that.” I all but jump on him, his words frightening me, snatching my heart in a deadly grip.

“Because he was mad at me. I fucking ditched school to get drunk with my friends and he knew about it. And instead of going home, I stayed out so he wouldn’t beat on me. If I had been there that night to take my beating, my mother would still be alive.” His eyes squeeze shut and he pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s attempting to chase away the demons in his mind, but it isn’t working as he grows more agitated looking.

“Ben, that doesn’t make it your fault. He would have killed one of you that night.”

“And it should have been me! Damn it! My mom was a fucking saint! She put all her faith in God and then he ripped her away savagely!” He stands from the couch in a rush kicking the coffee table, causing it to scuff the floor.

I jump a little, taken aback by his outburst. Quickly that passes and the urge to comfort him takes precedence. His reaction was intimidating but it was also a strong cry for help. It makes sense now why God isn’t something he believes in.

“No, Ben. Your mom wouldn’t be able to live with herself if it had been you and if it had been, I wouldn’t have you…” I wipe at the tears and drop my head, crying into my hands and saying a silent prayer. I have no idea what words to say or how to comfort him in this moment, but it’s the best I can do.

“I fight sometimes because I feel I owe it to her. No punch or hit can ever bring her back or compare to the ones she took that night, but I damn well deserve it.” His voice is eerily silent and I bring my sad eyes back to him, where he’s just inches in front of me.

“What?”

“I do cocaine and then I rage fight. I find some fucker who deserves it and I fight him. When I hit them, I see my father and I feel I have vindicated my mother.”

“No, stop. Ben you can’t do that. That’s not the way you remember your mother. You can’t bring violence on someone to make up for the violence done on her. You could get hurt and then her legacy will be for nothing.”

He shakes his head. “Her legacy? Her abuse is not her legacy, Sadie.”

“No, but you are Ben. You’re her son and I know I didn’t know her, but I see that love in your eyes and obviously in your actions. I know a love for a mother like that cause I have it. You are the best thing she gave this world and if you keep doing this, it will be taken away.” I sob harder over the thought of Ben lifeless after a fight, gone from me and no longer here as mine.

“Don’t cry for me, Sadie. This is who I am. I’ve been alone for years now and have come to terms with how I live my life.” He grabs my face and wipes my fast falling tears.

“Yeah, but I haven’t. Ben, you mean something to me. I…I love you, Ben Cooper and you hurting yourself like this scares me. You being abused all those years and losing your mother makes my heart break. I hate that someone hurt you. God told us to never hate people, but I know I hate that man for what he’s done to my best friend.”

His lip quivers and I witness him cry for the first time. “You love me?” he questions and I nod, reaching up to grace his lips with a just a whisper of my fingertips.

“I do love you. You’re the first man I’ve ever loved.”

“Oh baby, I love you too.” In that instance we collide, his lips on mine and we share our first I love yous. The beautiful thing about this all is I know, without him even needing to tell me, that I’m his first great love, just as he is mine.

He opened his soul to me today and let me in to the darkest parts of him, the places only God knows and now me. Moving us on the couch, he brings me down on his lap as I straddle him, pulling at his hair and putting all of me inside that one kiss.

Ben’s hands skate over my back and up into my hair where he mimics my movements. The warmth of his tongue against mine overwhelms me as I lose my very breath in him. I’m still crying for the small child who was abused, for the teenager who lost his mother, and for the man who is suffering the pain of it all.

“Stop crying, baby. I’m home and safe.” I shake my head in his hands.

“For now. But I won’t be there all the time.”

“You could be.”

“How?” He tightens his grip on my face and keeps me in a longing gaze.

“Marry me.” It isn’t a question and I’m not sure if it’s a joke either.

“What?”

“Fucking marry me, be my forever. Be my fucking home again, Sadie.” He smiles and I know now that this is coming from a place of vulnerability. He’s afraid and wants something to make him feel whole. I can give him that, but I know without a shadow of a doubt, this emotion will wear off and he’ll regret ever saying it.

“You’re emotional—we both are, you don’t mean it.”

“Whatever you want to think, but I’ve never meant something more in my entire life.”

I shake my head and chuckle from hysteria.

“We’re late to meet my parents and we aren’t in a place mentally where we can rationalize this,” I start. “Besides, it’s been three weeks and the entire world would think we’re insane.”

“I don’t give a fuck what the world thinks. I give a fuck about what my girl thinks.” I lean in and kiss his lips gently, before pulling back and whispering.

“I love you and today we shared something personal. Let us adjust to this and let us comfort each other.”

“Fine. But think what you want. I’ve never met anyone who can make me feel whole the way you do, Sadie. I may be young and new to this whole love thing, but I’m not new to knowing what I want and I want you.” I nod again and seep his words into my skin like ink from a tattoo. I want him forever too and there is no doubt that I would marry this man in a heartbeat, but not when emotions are this high.

“I love you. Ask me again tomorrow when you’ve had a night to sleep on it.” I wink, attempting to lighten the mood, knowing come tomorrow he will forget about this little slip of the tongue marriage proposal.

“Will do, angel mine.” The thought that he may not ask again seems logical, but I also feel that slight sting of disappointment over him not really wanting to marry me.

It’s the emotions. Today was a big one. His homecoming, his tragic life story—all of it was a lot to take in. I can’t think logically right now. So shutting off my brain and taking my own advice, I drop the subject and get us up and moving.

Time for him to meet my parents.

§