Ben is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He is everything I want, and everything I need. And I didn’t just let him slip away, I opened the door and kicked him in the ass, forcing him out of my life.
I turn to my computer, not even sure what I should be doing. It takes me a few minutes to get my mind to focus, and I put everything into this new assignment. And as if the universe didn’t hate me enough, the site I’m designing is for a local wedding dress shop.
Not only is my heart broken, but I have no date for my brother’s wedding. Ben won’t be there with me, talking and dancing and secretly laughing at how Danielle freaked out over details when none of that really matters. I’ll be alone, like I’m sure I’ll be the rest of my life.
Because you don’t meet someone like Ben Hartford more than once in a lifetime.
For the first time ever, I find myself dreading the end of the day. Work goes by slowly, but it’s at least a distraction. I kept my phone on my desk all day, just in case Ben called or texted me.
He doesn’t.
And I’m not sure if I should call again. I did more than once yesterday and got nothing. I’ve been trying to convince myself he’s still just mad and this will all blow over, but when I walk to my car that evening and still haven’t heard from him, I know it’s more than that.
I want to get be mad at him and say he’s being dramatic. But really I know that he must really have meant it when he said he loved me, because only people you care for deeply can hurt you that badly.
The more you love someone, the deeper the wound. I don’t like making anyone feel bad about anything. Knowing I said things that hurt Ben’s heart kills me and makes me feel no better than Mindy fucking Abraham.
I get into my car and put my head in my hands. It’s hot in here, and I can hardly breathe. I need to turn the air on, open the windows … something. But I’m a glutton for punishment right now, punishment I deserve.
My phone rings and you’d think I had three seconds left to cut the wire on a bomb for how fast I dig that sucker out of my purse. It’s not Ben. It’s Erin, and I don’t want to answer. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to her, but I don’t want to tell her about Ben and start crying again. Because I know I will.
I feel guilty as I ignore the call. I start the car and tell myself I’ll call her when I get home, where I can ugly cry my heart out in the privacy of my own home. I keep my phone on my lap in case Ben decides to get a hold of me.
He doesn’t.
Not on the way home, not throughout dinner, not even during the four hours I marathon watched Doctor Who, eating ice cream and feeling sorry for myself. I’m holding onto hope, but that hope is slipping away.
By the time I should get ready for bed, I call Erin.
“Hey, lady,” she says, upbeat as usual. “Just wanted to make sure you got home and everything okay. You didn’t log on to any of your accounts last night.”
I close my eyes. “I know. I did make it home.”
“Uh, but everything isn’t okay?”
“No, it’s not.” Then I start crying, and tell her about the stupid fight and how I said things I shouldn’t have because I have no filter and don’t know how to stop myself when I get started. “I ruined everything,” I sob, wiping my eyes. I tuck my legs underneath myself and lean back on the couch. Ser Pouch sits next to me, offering me what little comfort his asshole self can.
“No, you didn’t,” Erin assures me. “You got in a fight. It happens. Do you know how many time Dave and I got into fights? If you do, tell me, because I lost track a long time ago. People fight, Lissy, it happens. What happens next determines your fate. Tell him you’re sorry and explain that the word vomit is a result of being insecure. I think he’ll understand.”
My eyes are puffy from crying. I blink a few times and take a shaky breath. “I don’t think Ben knows how insecure I am, and I think once he does he won’t feel the same, well the same like he did before the fight. I will apologize the first chance I get but I have a feeling explaining why I said what I did won’t help.”
“I disagree. He said he loved you. I’m sure he still does. You don’t just stop loving someone. Falling out of love isn’t really a decision. It just happens, and it usually happens gradually. Call him. Go to him, just talk to him.”
“I’ll call,” I say and feel nervous about it already. “I just want things to go back to how they are.”
“People fight. People make up. Then they come out stronger in the end.”
“You make it sound so easy.”