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Ella took her coffee,moved to the living room and perched on the edge of the charcoal sofa. Lovewasn't in question; it was the fear of losing herself in another, of blendingher life so completely with Ben's that the colors ran together, indistinguishable.They had emerged from trials by fire, stronger, closer, yet she clung fiercelyto the independence that defined her, the autonomy that allowed her to navigatethe murky waters of her profession.
There was a reasonthat most cops and FBI agents were single or divorced, and that was because theidea of a spouse leaving for work and never coming home didn’t appeal to a widerange of potential partners.
Ella reached out andpulled her laptop closer. In the silence of her apartment, she couldn’t helpbut wonder if the distance she put between herself and Ben was a chasm or amere crack.
She loved him, yes,but love was a complex algorithm that she couldn't solve by simply fusing twolives into one shared space. Ben's proposal had meant to bring them closer, yetit had inserted a sliver of distance instead. A distance that she bothregretted and craved. It was a contradiction she couldn't quite reconcile – adesire to maintain her solitude while fearing the isolation that might comewith it.
The moment stretched thin, a silentinterlude pierced as Ella's phone vibrated against the hard surface of thekitchen counter. Itwas an intrusion, a call back to a reality she'd momentarily set adrift.
Ella got up from the sofa and cautiouslypeered over at her phone, because it wasn’t even ten AM and good news rarelycame at such an hour.
Ben’s name flashed up on her screen, alongwith a simple, abrupt message. The pixels formed words that tightened aroundher chest.
We need to talk. Can you come to my placethis afternoon?
The air seemed to growheavier, pressed down by the weight of simple words on a screen. They need totalk – a phrase that often heralded the unraveling of what one held dear.
Ella's heart took onan arrhythmic cadence as she envisioned all the possible meanings, each moredisconcerting than the last.
She told herself tobreathe, to find solace in the rhythm of inhaled certainty and exhaled fears.This would all blow over. Hell, she and Ben had been through the wars and comeout better for it. If bloodshed couldn’t part them, surely this couldn’t either.
But doubt was apersistent shadow, creeping along the edges of certainty.
Ella typed out areply.
I’m coming overnow.
There was no room forhesitation. She couldn’t spend all day worrying about this. She couldn't allowthe chasm of the unknown to widen with the passing of each unanswered minute.
The reply came back.
Okay, see you soon.
No digital kisses, noexclamations of affection.
Ella grabbed her keysand hurried toward her front door.
***
Ella positionedherself on the edge of a beige armchair, her gaze flitting across thewell–appointed living room where Ben sat beside her. But even as the eveningsun slanted through half – drawn blinds that floodlit that chiseled jaw of his,something about Ben seemed distinctly off – kilter.
She couldn’t shake thefeeling that Ben was a painting slightly askew on a wall, a chord struckdiscordantly in an otherwise harmonious melody. Ben was usually an avatar ofpositivity, but here, his demeanor was dulled. His short brown hair, usually soartfully tousled, lay flat against his head, and his sculpted features, whichtypically exuded confidence, now seemed etched with invisible burdens.
It was as if the verycolor had been leached from his skin, leaving a pallor that suggested a week ofsleepless nights. She noticed his eyes, once lively and quick to crinkle inamusement, were clouded with an intensity that she rarely saw.
She watched himintently, the detective in her cataloging these minute changes even as herheart throbbed with unease. What had brought on this transformation? Whatthoughts were swirling in that head of his?
‘Ben?’ she ventured,her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the fragile silence.
He looked up, theghost of a smile touching his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. In agesture so tender it almost ached, Ben reached out and took Ella's hand in his.His grip was firm and grounding yet distant.
‘Ella,’ he began, hisvoice low and earnest in a way that instantly set her nerves on edge. ‘This isgoing to sound melodramatic, but stick with me.’
‘Okay.’
‘What are we doing?’
Ella glanced around.'We're at your place, having what feels like a heart-to-heart.'
