“She hugged you?”
“Yup,” I said and I switched my phone to my other ear.
“Wow, that’s pretty epic.” I didn’t miss the sarcasm in Reagan’s tone.
“It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but Mark said Poppy isn’t a hugger. I feel like I’ve been officially welcomed into the pack.”
I thought about the day we’d left to come back to Florida and my lips split into a wide smile. Mark’s entire family had given me bear hugs, including Poppy.
“You’re in and now you can never leave.” Reagan’s laugh was overly dramatic with a villainess flare.
“I’d be happy to stay forever.” Once the words left my mouth, there was no taking them back. “You know what I mean… the whole trip, it was perfect. I’ve never had the whole family dynamic thing. They treated me like they’ve known me forever. His mom cried when Mark came up wearing the jersey I’d gotten for him… and you should’ve seen Poppy’s face.” I laughed as I continued, “It was a mixture of excitement and horror. When Mark showed her the back of the jersey she’d smiled at first and then frowned. I asked her if she liked it and she’d said ‘it’s cool, but it should’ve been a Boston jersey.’”
“She said that?” Reagan giggled.
“Straight up, honest… she’s a freaking pistol.” And I love her, I wanted to say, but I’d already admitted too much out loud for one morning. “I know it’s not a great idea to get too attached so soon, but I had a great time.”
She exhaled a breathy sigh reading me like she always did. “Stevie… you’re happy. You don’t have to defend it to anyone.”
I was happy, elated, lost in the haze of Mark and his family. Mark and I had flown back to Tampa on Wednesday. He had to be back to practice Thursday, and had a New Year’s Eve home game this Sunday. In New Hampshire, we’d been in our own personal snow globe, life had been smooth and unhurried, and now it was just another Friday. I sat in my office alone, and everything was rush, rush, rush again. I’d give anything to go back to our Christmas morning, to be wrapped in Mark’s warmth, his strong arms, looking into his smiling eyes, and running my fingers through his sleep and sex-tousled hair. Instead, I had to deal with Ben’s nitpicking hissy fit as soon as I’d walked through the office doors.
“Ben makes me feel guilty. It was like he chose to be an asshole as a way to show me how much he disapproved of my smiles and contentment.”
“Your happiness isn’t something you should have to explain, and if Ben can’t deal, then that’s his problem.”
“I should tell Trent I can’t work on this audit.” My words came out in a strangled string of worry.
“Is that what you want? I thought you needed the experience?”
I rested my forehead in the palm of my free hand. “I don’t know.”
“You need to talk to Trent.”
“I will.” I lifted my head to stare up at the ceiling, and wet my lips, letting a small smile infuse my tone as I not-so-subtly changed the subject. “You coming to the game with me Sunday?”
“Why wouldn’t I? The best way to get a man out of your system is to surround yourself with opportunities to test your strength.”
“And watching Bryson play hockey is testing your strength?”
“Yes, because damn, he’s hot when he’s sweaty, and I can’t even say that from personal experience. How does the team man whore turn me down, Stevie? How?”
I giggled. “You sound insulted.”
“I am.”
“Mark said, and I quote ‘he’s probably trying to keep his dick out of the family cookie jar’.”
“What if I want his—”
“Hey,” I cut her off not really wanting to talk about my boyfriend’s best friend’s sex life, or body parts, for that matter. “You could bring Pete to the game?”
“Ugh.”
“You guys love each other, and you both are stubborn asses and are too chicken to admit it.”
She was quiet for a few seconds. I’d picked away at her defenses, and her silence proved I’d hit a little too deep this time.
She took a long breath. “Ask Mark for an extra ticket… just in case.”
A knowing smile sprawled across my lips. “Of course.”
“I’ll call you later,” she said, her good humor distracted and shaken.
She hung up and my guilt clouded over me. She was always throwing in her two cents about my life, and what I said wasn’t really a secret. You can only be on-again, off-again with the same person so many times before someone has the guts to slap you in the face and say, “Hey, idiot, look, your chance is right there.” Mark was my slap in the face and my chance. I only wanted the same thing for her.
I’d finished typing out a quick text to Mark, asking him if he could grab an extra ticket for Pete, when a knock sounded on my office door. Trent didn’t wait for an answer before he walked in.
“These are for you,” he said, laying three large, overstuffed folders onto my desk. “Ben needs these postal receipts put into the expenses spreadsheet.”
“Good morning to you, too,” I teased and Trent’s frown curled up at the corners.
He lowered himself into the chair across from me without any grace, a long exhale shuffling the blond mop of bangs over his forehead.
“I know.” He groaned. “I haven’t had enough coffee, my manners don’t take effect until after the fourth cup.”
I opened one of the folders and wanted to groan as well as I milled through the receipts. “What’s my deadline?”
He cringed. “Tomorrow?”
“That’s impossible.”
He scrubbed his palm down his face. “I know... but Ben said—”
“Trent. There are hundreds of receipts here. This will take me all weekend.” I shut the folder, summoning my good grace. He was overworked, stressed out, and apparently delusional. There was no way I could get this finished by tomorrow. “The soonest I could have this finished is Monday, and that’s a holiday.”
“Unfortunately, it’ll be a working holiday.” His brows dipped deeply, anxiety crinkling and aging his handsome face. “I’ll let Ben know you’ll have them ready by Monday.” He gave me his charming smile, the one he’d used on David when he knew he was in trouble. “You’re an angel, Stevie.”
“Don’t you forget it.” He stood to leave and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I struggled to find the right words to say. “Before you go...” Trent stilled. “I wanted to talk to you about Ben… it’s been difficult working with him again.”
He pushed his hands into his pockets with a resigned set to his shoulders. “I think the Mark thing is getting to him. He’s not himself.”
“It’s too hard,” I whispered and Trent’s eyes met mine. I blinked past the burn and harnessed the strength I’d found inside myself the day I told Ben I was done. “I don’t think we should work together on this audit.”
“What if you reported to me? I need your help with this account, all hands on deck, Stevie. I’ll take Ben off expenses, reallocate his experience.”
“I think that’s a great plan.”
The air in the room seemed less thin, and I gave him a reassuring smile, lowering my shaking hands to my lap before he turned to leave. Rocking the boat wasn’t my forte, but Ben and I working together was toxic for everyone. Having him here was like opening a scab, picking at it every day until it bled, and I was out of ways to stop the bleeding.
He tipped his chin. “Consider it done.”
There were several theories online about disaster premonition. People who’d reported seeing a man who looked like a moth days before a catastrophe, interviews with survivors who felt like something was off before they boarded that plane or that train. Women who had sensed danger, some special type of fear before they picked up the phone only to receive bad news. Heartbreak was supposed to come with some sort of prerequisite Spidey Sense, but in hindsight, nothing had appeared out of place when I’d woken up that morning.
I’d gotten up early enough to kiss my boyfriend goodbye before he left for practice. I walked Atlas around the block like I did every day. Mark had his own apartment, but when he was in town, we were always at my house. I loved how easily our puzzle pieces fit together. I loved waking up next to him, having his suits in my closet, his sweats in my drawer, and our dog at my side. I loved the sweet and dirty Post-it promises he’d leave on my coffee mug before he left for the rink. Today’s promise still had me smiling when I’d arrived to work ten minutes earlier than usual. I loved that no matter how thick the tension between Ben and I had become, the fog of it never hindered my vision. I’d fallen in love with Mark, and this morning, when he kissed me for those few achingly perfect seconds, if I had known how the day was going to play out, I would’ve never let either of us get out of bed.
I’d been prepared for a bittersweet day. Mark had to leave for another road trip tonight, and after almost three months of hard work, the final meeting wrapping up the audit had been scheduled for nine this morning. It was the second week in March, and even though Ben and I hadn’t been working on the account together since the New Year, he’d still been there every day, in every meeting, and the coldness he’d worn as armor weakened the closer we got to the end of his stay. He’d find reasons to pop by my office, reasons to linger after meetings, reasons to call me at least twice a week; usually, and I’d begun to think premeditatedly, when I was with Mark. If anything, Ben’s silence during the meeting should have been an indicator that this day was about to go up in flames.
It was almost noon when Trent switched off his laptop, ending the meeting. Alec was the first to stand and his smile was tired as he swatted my arm with a folder. “Shit, girl, it’s done.”
“Congratulations,” I said as I stood, fighting the urge to raise my arms over my head and stretch away the last few hours.
“We earned it. I don’t think we could’ve gotten through this without your help.” Alec wasn’t one to give compliments. I found myself smiling a little bigger than necessary and he laughed. “Don’t let your ego get too big, remember, I was the one who trained you.”
“You’re always going to remind me of that, aren’t you?”
“Would you expect anything less?” He tapped his folder on my arm again, his smile sincere as he asked, “You coming to lunch with us?”
“I’m meeting Mark, he’s leaving tonight.”
“How long this time?”
“Ten days,” I whined.
He shook his head. “I don’t know how he does it. He’s a better man than me.”
It wasn’t polite to agree, but this was Alec. “He really is.”
“I’ll remember that next time David asks whether or not you want a chocolate croissant.”
“Hey,” I protested, but Alec’s smile dimmed, and the minute he spoke, I knew why.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Ben asked, and like always, my heart jumped ship and fell into my gut.
Alec gave me a sympathetic smile before he turned to leave. I avoided Ben’s eyes as I picked up the last few folders from the table.
“What’s up?” I asked as the room emptied too quickly.
Ben waited for the last few stragglers to file out of the door before he said, “I’m leaving this weekend.” His cool eyes grabbed my gaze, hoping, waiting for something I couldn’t give him, not anymore. “I… I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“Ben…” I let out a shaky breath. “We’ve been through this, haven’t we? It’s done, there’s no need.”
He took a step forward taking up my personal space. “When you told me you wanted a divorce, I was angry at you. I needed time to reconcile my feelings, to figure it out… to realize what I was losing. I thought I had time, and before I knew it, everything was finalized and you were gone. And…” He closed his eyes, and the pain in his voice matched the ache in my throat.
“I’m in love with him.” I hadn’t even told Mark how I felt yet, but Ben’s words were a last-ditch effort and I needed to be honest. He needed to understand.
His eyes opened and his nostrils flared. “He doesn’t know you like I do.”
“You’re right. He doesn’t… I’ve changed.” I shook my head. “Actually, I didn’t change, Ben, you just forgot. Mark knows the real me, the woman you never wanted.”
“I’ll always want you.”
He took another step forward as hot tears fell down my face. Anger swelling and spilling over my lashes. “You didn’t fight for me, you let me go, and I’m happy now, and you’re selfish to even—”
“I know.” His Adam’s apple bobbed once and then again. “I fucked up.” He clenched his jaw when a quiet gasp caught in my throat. “I fucked up, and I want to fix it. I’ve known you half my life, and I can’t believe I let you walk away.” Each uneven breath I took he inhaled, stealing tiny pieces of me.
His lashes were damp, his eyes earnest and he looked like the boy I’d met when I was a teenager. A sob I’d held in for over thirteen years worked its way past the confines of my chest. “You did, you let me walk away.”
The heat of Ben’s hand on my cheek was foreign as he gathered away the tears with his thumb. “I can fix this, fix us…” He leaned in, framing my face with his other hand, his eyes falling to my mouth as he whispered his ammunition, “Can we do this?”
Panic stole my breath, fattened my tongue, and before I could tell him no, tell him nothing he could do or say would fix what he had broken, tell him I belonged to someone else, Mark’s angered and wounded words shattered the weighted silence into sharp and dangerous pieces. “Fuck this shit.”