His lips part slightly as if he's going to say something. It's in that moment that I feel him pull away. He yanks his hand free of mine, before he slides his body out from under the sheet.
"Ben?" I call after him as he walks quickly out of the room. I hear his footsteps along the hardwood floor and then there's nothing but total silence.
I turn over. I feel the panic before it hits my body. I'm nauseous. I threw that at him without any warning at all. He was just starting to feel close to Noah again and I tossed it at him like a live hand grenade. I should have gone to Noah. I should have fucking gone to Noah and confronted him about this so he could tell Ben himself.
I reach down in the darkness looking for Ben's robe. I saw it on the chair near the window earlier. It's here. I know it is. I have to stop and catch my breath.
"Kayla?" His voice is behind me. "Kayla, turn around."
I do just as his hand touches the light switch. The sudden brilliant light that floods the bedroom blinds me momentarily and I cover my eyes with my hands. "It's too bright, Ben."
"I'm sorry." I hear movement behind me. "I'll dim the light."
I heave a sigh of relief as I slide my hands into my lap. I'm still not facing him. "I didn't mean to just throw that at you. I know it must make you feel violated. I would feel that way if…"
I hear his heavy footsteps coming closer. Then I see his legs. He's holding something. "Noah gave me this yesterday."
I look at his hands. He's holding a manila folder overflowing with papers.
"Noah told me about it. He gave it all to me to destroy." He hands it to me. "You can read it if you want."
I stare at it. It's Ben's entire life all in one place. Every bank transaction he's ever made, every job he's ever held, and all the places he's lived are documented in the papers falling out of the folder.
"He gave you this?"
He swallows hard before he sits next to me. "I have nothing to hide. If doing this helped Noah trust me again, I'm glad he did it. If reading it helps you in any way, I want you to do that."
"You're not angry?" There's more excitement in my tone than surprise. "How can you not be angry?"
"I would do anything to show my brother that I'm a good, honest, decent man." He taps his fingers against his leg. "I would do anything and everything in my power to show you that I'm a good, honest, decent man."
"I know that you are," I say it with no reservation at all. "I don't need to read anything here to know that."
"I want you to read one thing." He pulls the file into his own lap and thumbs through some of the documents. "This is what I want you to read."
I take the piece of paper from him and hold it in front of me. It's a printed document of some sort. I start reading it line-by-line, stopping twice to look up at Ben. "I don't understand what it is."
"I live a simple life." He closes his eyes briefly as if to gather his thoughts. "My mother left me an enormous amount of money. I will never use that money in my lifetime. I already have everything I could possibly need."
I stare at the paper he handed to me. "Are you funding this yourself?"
"I was." His hand runs over the back of my hair. "Noah is funding half of it now with his inheritance. He insisted on it when I saw him yesterday."
"The Foster Foundation," I whisper the words softly as I run my hand over where they are printed at the top of the paper. "You're doing this to help children."
"Children." He points to the paper. "Women, men, anyone who needs medical care and can't afford it."
"You're doing this for your mother?"
"I want to do good things for her. I want her to be proud of who I am today."
I watch as a tear falls from my cheek and onto the paper. "I'm sorry," I mutter as I wipe my hand across the document.
"You didn't read the last line, Kayla." He traces a path over the bottom of the paper with his finger. "Read that to me."
I hold the paper in front of me, trying to decipher the letters through my tears. "It says, director of operations…" I stall to pull my hand over my mouth. "Director of operations is Kayla Monroe."
"It's your job if you want it."
"When did you set this up?" I dart my eyes over the document looking for a date.
He pulls me closer to his side. "I've been meeting colleagues in Boston for months to get the wheels in motion. I was there when you and I met and again when I saw you at… at your old apartment," he stammers. "I had talked about you as a potential candidate for the job that Saturday morning, less than an hour before I saw you. You have so much to give to others and you're smart."