"You're the only one who can answer that. You can make it work if you want it to, but that's a decision you guys have to make. Listen, I hate to cut you short, but I just pulled up to the store. Figure your shit out and get your ass to that ceremony next week."
"I'll go. Just text me the time and place, and I'll be there."
"Cool. I'll talk to you later."
"Later."
Work was exactly what I expected—pure and utter chaos. There were so many files and stacks of papers being flung at me that I'm contemplating wearing safety goggles and a helmet tomorrow. My feet are aching from standing at the copier all day and I’m pretty sure I forgot to eat lunch.
My mouth waters as soon as I step into the hallway. The smell of Italian food overwhelms me. I got a text from Ben about an hour ago telling me to come home hungry. Not a problem since my insides are battling over what organ is going to eat the other first.
A glass of wine and Ben’s smile greet me as I unlock the front door. A girl can get used to this.
"I hope you're hungry." He hands me the glass and presses a chaste kiss to my lips.
"Holy shit. It smells amazing in here."
He reaches for the strap of my purse and leads me over to the table. There are two plates already served.
"Sit," he says while pulling my chair out.
"Yes, sir." I smile up at him and place my glass on the table. He walks over to the seat across from me and sits down.
"Eat," he says pointing a fork at my plate.
"Easy, caveman. Are you planning on talking in complete sentences tonight, or will you continue to speak to me in monosyllables?"
He smiles. "Just try your food, funny girl. Rooming with you is hanging in the balance."
I roll my eyes at him and take the first bite. "Holy orgasm in my mouth. What magical lasagna is this?"
He laughs and follows with a bite of his own. "It's my grandma's recipe. It's my favorite and the easiest to make. You like?"
"I love? You can stay indefinitely if you keep cooking like this," I say between bites.
"Good. That's what I was hoping you'd say," he says smiling over the rim of his glass.
That familiar flutter is back. I love that he is so sure about us, but I'm still scared. My heart says he's it for me, but my head . . . yeah, my head is telling me to be cautious because it's too soon.
"Seriously, this is really good. Thank you," I say mid-chew.
"You're welcome. So do I even want to know how today went?" he asks.
"Let's just say I should have worn my workout gear today. I was in and out of my chair and up and down the hall so many times that I must have logged at least 20,000 steps."
"Good, then you won't feel guilty for having another piece of lasagna," he says while piling on another slice.
"So what did you do today besides cook us this delicious dinner? Did you get everything squared away at school?"
"Yup. I picked up my cap and gown and filled out my exit forms. I'm an official graduate."
"Awesome," I say, smiling.
"My mom called." I meet his eyes and my stomach does a flip.
Wait for it.
He always seems to pause after saying he's talked to her. It’s slow torture every time he mentions her name. I wish he would just rip the Band-Aid off and come out with it. It makes me want to scream.
"And?" I prompt.
"She wants to make reservations to take us to dinner after the graduation ceremony. We didn't have any plans, did we?"
We don't now.
"No, I figured we'd talk about it. That's fine." What am I supposed to say? It's his mother. I've been in his life for five minutes; I'm not gonna go up against her.
"I invited Eli to come. Do you think Vonne would want to go?"
"Oh, shit!" I completely forgot they were graduating together.
Shit . . . shit . . . shit.
"I'm meeting up with her this week, so I'll ask her then. I completely forgot to ask her what her plans were when I talked to her this morning."
"So did you get any details about what happened this weekend? Eli wouldn't elaborate," he asks with an expectant smile and waggles his eyebrows at me.
"What do you mean?" I ask in confusion as I take a sip of my wine.
"Eli was all stressed about coming to the graduation because he and Vonne hooked up on Sunday."
The wine goes down the wrong way, and I have to keep from spitting it across the table. "What?" I finally choke out. "She didn't mention anything to me. Ooh, just wait till I see her."
He laughs. "Eli will kill me for telling you. You have to pretend you don't know anything. He's really stressed about it. He likes her."
"She likes him, too. They just need to get their heads out of their asses and go for it already."
"I agree. Well, can you just give her a call and ask her about dinner. I'm supposed to call my mom tonight."
"Fine. I'll text her. I'm too pissed right now to talk to her, and I know I'll let it slip. I can't believe she didn't tell me."
"Calm down, killer. Maybe she wasn't ready to talk to you about it yet." He kisses my cheek and leans to grab my finished plate.
"You done?"
"Yeah, I'm stuffed. Just put the dishes in the sink. I'm gonna change, then I'll wash since you cooked."
I come out of the bedroom ten minutes later and the kitchen is clean and he's sitting on the couch. I grab the blanket from behind the couch and curl up next to him.
"I told you I would get it."
"I know, but there wasn't that much to do. I got it." He kisses the top of my head and flips through the TV channels.
"Do you want to watch anything?" he asks. I'm barely able to keep my eyes open.
"No. I'm good with whatever." I put a pillow on his lap and stretch out on the sofa. He rakes his fingers through my hair and stops on ESPN. Within minutes, sleep overtakes me.
I startle awake to the sound of a loud gasp. Ari is sitting upright on the couch with her hand on her chest. She's trying to slow her breathing. She fell asleep on my lap, and I didn't have the heart to move her. I must have dozed off too. I place my hand on her back.
"Bad dream?" I ask. She runs her hands through her hair nervously and stands.
"Yeah. I'm good now." She takes off toward her bedroom, and I follow behind her.
"Ari." She stops mid-stride and crosses her arms over her chest. She's always defensive when she has these episodes. I tread lightly. "Look, I know you don't want to hear it."
She lets out a long frustrated sigh. "Ben, I'm sorry I woke you up. I'll work this out okay. In my own time. I have a lot on my plate right now. Stress triggers them, I told you that."
I close the gap between us. "That's exactly why you should speak to someone. I'll go with you. I know repeating the story is hard, but I'll be right there with you. Even if I just wait outside the door. Let me help."
She gives me a resigned sigh. "Fine. I'll look into it this week."
She's looking at her wringing hands, and I tilt her chin up to meet my eyes. "Promise me. I hate seeing you like this. Please, promise me."
She nods, swiping at a stray tear. "Promise."
I pull her into a hug, and she buries her face into my neck. "Let’s go to bed." She nods, and I put her hand in mine leading us into the bedroom.
I really need to change the darn alarm on my phone. That foghorn drives me nutty, but I guess that's the point. Sliding my finger over the screen, I get out of bed careful not to wake Ben. I pad over to the shower stretching out my sore muscles. Sleeping on the couch wasn't very smart.
Standing under the spray of hot water, I try to clear my wayward thoughts. I knew the next time I had an episode he'd bring up seeing a therapist again.
Dammit.
I had a hard enough time telling him what happened; now, he wants me to repeat it to a complete stranger. What if they're obligated to report it? Do I confess the person who torments my dreams is back in my life? That actually having a face to go with what happened is making it hard to close my eyes at night.
As I step out of the shower, the faint "I love you" Ben wrote on the mirror stares back at me. A feeling of determination and calm washes over me. I can do this. For us. For him. I have to do this.
The steam from the bathroom billows out into the hall as I open the door. The smell of a much-needed cup of coffee greets me. Ben isn't in bed when I step into the bedroom. I flip my head over to towel dry my hair when his bare feet suddenly come into view. I lift my head and see his bare chest and a smile. That will never get old.
"Good morning," I say leaning in for a kiss. He hands me the cup of coffee I've been longing for.
"Good morning to you."
"So before you ask. I gave some more thought to what you said last night. I promise to call my insurance today and get a referral."
"I wasn’t asking to upset you. I can't imagine how hard this is for you. I just want you happy."
He places his hands on my face. The concern in his eyes almost makes me cry. He has enough on his plate without me adding to it. I feel guilty for being selfish and not heeding his advice weeks ago.
"I know you're not. I'm sorry to make you worry." He rests his forehead on mine and kisses me sweetly.
"I'll get out of your way so you can get ready. I don't want you to be late." He walks out of the room, leaving me an emotional wreck.
I walk into my office and the pile of files on my desk seems to have tripled. I send a quick text to Vonne about dinner with Ben's mom. We got so comfy on the couch last night, it must have slipped our minds, so he reminded me this morning before I walked out the door.
It's two o'clock by the time I get a chance to eat. Ben packed me some leftovers from last night's dinner, which is nice because I'm able to eat at my desk in case one of my bosses calls. The expert witnesses are taking the stand today, putting everyone on edge. Timothy Lemon is scheduled to take the stand at the end of the week. The media is having an absolute field day with this case. Pictures of his wife with the ex-lover have surfaced and are splashed over every newspaper and news channel. Keeping the jury away from this information has been a nightmare.