Finding Home (17 page)

“I don’t know. I just try to look at their faces and eyes. Eyes give a lot away.” I point to one couple who could be in their seventies. “See that couple over there? See how they hold each other tightly, almost like they support each other and won’t let the other go. And the way they look at one another. Their eyes show love. And the lines around them tell me they’ve had years of happiness, joy, sadness, and some pain. But they keep holding each other. That’s love right there.” I duck my head down, realizing I’ve got a dazed look on my face. “At least that’s my opinion on it.”

Ben doesn’t say anything, and I feel like an ass. I probably sound like a romantic fool. But I call them like I see them. I only wish I would have recognized why love wasn’t in Nathan’s eyes. I think I just wanted the idea of a perfect love so badly that I overlooked so much. I feel heat on my hands and look up at Ben.

“Hey, what are you thinking about? You seem a bit lost in there.”

“Truth?”

“Truth.”

“I’m thinking about how I can see love in others but not see it in my own life. I think I want that idea, like the ones you read about or watch. Even like that couple. But I keep messing up, making bad choices. I want to believe there’s something there that isn’t.” He holds my hand tighter. “I have my plan for a reason, Ben. To protect me from my heart. I don’t think I’m meant to have the perfect love. I kind of suck at it.”

He touches my chin and forces me to gaze at him. “I told you before … I can’t believe that about you. You just haven’t met the right guy yet. I believe that somewhere, out there, two people are made for each other. They were put here to be each other’s person. They’re each other’s home and are meant to be together. There’s someone out there for you. I’m sure of it.”

I can feel tears threatening, begging to come out. I try to stop them, but it’s futile. I feel him wipe them away gently. “Hey now, none of that. We’re supposed to be having fun. I guess I’m out of practice with the whole dating thing. I’m pretty sure making a girl cry isn’t high on the list of dating dos and don’ts.

“It’s okay. I get a bit emotional at times.” I try to quickly wipe away my tears and look back at the other couples dancing. They all look so happy. I ponder over Ben’s words. Is there really one person out there made for me? I’m hesitant to ask, but I need to know. “Ben, since this whole date has turned on the somber side, I need to ask you a question.” Taking a deep breath, I go for it. “I’m thinking about what you said. About having a person out there made for you. I’m assuming Beth is your person.”

He nods slowly as if unsure how to answer me. I watch him open his mouth to speak, but no words come out. I need to know what he’s thinking, so I continue. “I thought so. I mean, from everything you’ve said to me and what Jenny’s told me, that is what I would’ve guessed. But, I have to ask, if Beth was ... is your person, what do you do now? Is there no other person out there for you?”

He looks away from me and I wait. I wait for him to answer, but my patience sucks. My need to fill the silence urges me to speak. “Because if what you say is true, then what do you do when your person is gone?” I squeeze his hands and continue. “There must be another one out there. I can’t believe that you’re meant to be alone. I know that Beth died, but do you think that since she’s gone, you’re meant to be by yourself?” I really need to shut up now. “Sorry, there goes my filter again. I should shut the hell up. Excuse me.”

I stand up and make my way to the bathroom. What am I thinking? I should never have brought her up. But the sick and twisted part of my brain needs to know. I want to find out where he stands in all of this. If he truly believes he lost his only person, then what does that make me? Is this just a test for him, or is he trying to make a fresh start?

But, Ben’s not like that; at least I don’t think so. I may be reading too much into our time together. The feelings he arouses in me are so intense. It’s like really amazing foreplay. You know once you both get started, it’s going to be incredible. I just hope we can finish together.

After my inquisition, the ride home’s quietly intense. We didn’t say anything to each other after we left the café. In fact, we haven’t said a word at all. I silently chastise myself, again, for opening my big mouth. He’s not ready, and I should have recognized that. But given all that’s happened between us, I find myself believing in the idea of more with him.

We pull up to the house, and I know I should say something, but I feel like the ball is in his court. I asked the questions, and he holds the answers. It’s up to him when and if he responds. My last shred of patience is wearing thin, but I need to do this, even if it’s slowly killing me.

I make a move to open the car door, but he reaches out to stop me. “Wait, please allow me.” He moves out of the car and around the front at a snail’s pace. I watch him clench his fists until he reaches my door. “I should at least end our date on a positive note. A gentleman always opens the door.” I step out and silently thank him with a slight smile and head nod. If I had a nail gun I would nail my mouth shut.

As we walk up the steps I try to figure out what I’m going to say. “So, tonight was interesting, and well, different. Thanks for the cake and walk around downtown. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He walks me to the door and opens it for me. “Ah yeah, it was different. I’ll see you later.” With that statement, he turns and walks away. Not answering one question or saying a real goodbye.

I watch him walk away, and then I head up to my room. The shock I feel at his abrupt lack of goodbye surprises and irritates me. The house is eerily quiet—too quiet for my loud thoughts. I decide a hot shower and a good book is just what I need to escape my brain for a while. The shower does nothing to ease my weary head.

I climb into bed and start up my e-reader. I’ve been reading a smut-filled erotica that normally would be a great distraction, but unfortunately, it’s only working me up. I throw the reader on the floor and bang my fists on the bed. I want to scream, but I can’t let everyone know what’s going on. I turn off the light and try to think of the things that make me happy. My visual montage of happy places usually helps me drift off to sleep.

Tap, tap, tap, BANG!
What the hell’s that? I slowly wake up, not having a clue what’s happening. Am I hearing things? I glance at the clock it’s almost three AM. The taps begin again, and I realize its coming from the window. I make my way over and pull back the curtains. Peering out, I barely see what appears to be Ben’s figure standing out under my window. He waves up to me, and I wave back. Opening the window, I laugh at his way of communicating. I use the softest volume my voice will allow. “Hey, Ben, this is your house. If you want to talk to me, you could have walked in.”

His hand rubs the back of his neck while he sways side to side. “I could have, but then the gesture wouldn’t be as romantic.”

“You’re going for romantic gestures now. Why’s that?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I hated how our date ended. Can you come out and talk to me. I feel like I have some explaining to do.”

I want to tell him no, but who am I kidding. My body is itching to see him. “I’ll be right down.”

“Meet me out back in the garden. Bring a hoodie. It’s a bit chilly out.”

I smile at his thoughtfulness. I’m so fucked right now. Ben’s feelings toward me are wishy-washy. I know he could be more to me. And that scares the shit out of me. He clearly still has feelings for Beth. I can’t compete with that. A sudden wave of nausea hits me. Ben could be my person. My no-heartbreak life rule sucks ass. Now what?

I’ve been lying in my bed for hours hoping to clear my head. I pray for sleep to come and relieve me. This constant tossing and turning does nothing to help wrap my mind around the sudden onslaught of feelings I’m having for Sam. The way she looked at those couples tonight shattered my resolve. Her eyes looked so lost, and I wanted to help her find her way back. Problem is—how can I help her find her way back when I don’t know my own way.

Clearly love has done a number on her, but she still looks like she wants to believe. I tried, in vain, to comfort her with my words, but I only made her cry.

I have to give her credit; she didn’t waste any time getting to the heart of the matter: Beth. She’s right. Beth was and is my person. I’m just not sure if she will always be my person. That’s the enormous, weighty question sitting on my chest in need of a forklift to remove it.

Since I lost Beth, I assumed that love is done with me. I thought I’d been given my chance and that was it. Then Sam walks in and it’s like a breath of fresh air. The weight lifts just a little. But each time I feel it elevate, the memories of Beth crush it again. Memories. Fucking memories that tear me up inside. Memories of her and that night won’t let me go. It’s like I’ve been captured by them and am waiting to be rescued. This is the moment I realize I need to talk to her.

I jump out of bed thinking that maybe she can rescue me. Rescue me from the pain and grief that weighs me down. She’s the person that’s helping me release the breath I’ve kept in for so long. I need Sam, plain and simple. I just don’t know if I can have her. There’s so much she deserves to know. I need to tell her how I feel and perhaps let her in a little. If she can take a tiny bit of weight off my chest then maybe being with her will remove it completely.

I wait for her in the garden, pacing back and forth like a caged animal. I want to bang my chest like a gorilla, proud that I’m taking a chance. When I hear her approach and whisper my name, my frantic pacing stops and a whole new set of nerves kick up.

“Ben, what’s going on? Are you okay? I mean, like most girls, I appreciate a grand romantic gesture, but we could’ve talked in the morning.”

“I’m sorry to wake you up. I didn’t like how we left things tonight, and I want to make things right with us.” I pull her over to the bench to sit and face her to me. “Sam, I want to be able to talk to you and tell you things, but I just don’t know where to start. My feelings for you overwhelm me, and how I react is not okay.” I take her hands in mine and feel their softness. “For the past two years, I’ve done a great job avoiding everything and everyone in regards to Beth. Yeah, I go about my daily life, but what people see is just the surface. I never let anyone go deeper, and I didn’t want anyone to.”

“Ben, if you’re not ready to talk, I understand. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot tonight. I just want to know how you feel. Am I crazy and reading us wrong?”

I squeeze her hands in mine and softly kiss her cheek. “Please, let me finish what I need to say. It should help. This isn’t easy, so please be patient with me.” She nods her head and kisses my hand.
God, she makes me feel again.
“I will try to talk to you about Beth, but it may take me awhile. My private turmoil from that day still haunts me and grabs at me.” I can feel the sweat on my hands, so I let go of her to start my pacing again.

I force myself to stop in front of her. Kneeling down between her legs I touch her face. My hands hold her steady so she can stare right into me. “I feel like I’m talking all over the place, but I do have a point.” Sighing, I continue to speak. “Until you walked toward me at the airport, it never occurred to me that I should try to break through the surface and fight back.” She smiles at me, and that’s all the encouragement I need.