But not strong enough to leave his father, a man who did not respect her, but she loved, regardless.
Her eyes tracked the movement of the coin, and he stilled it. “Clearly you are destined to be around hard-headed women,” she said with a faint smirk.
Ben chuckled at Rose’s insight. Since when did hechuckle? “She always told me women had to make tougher choices because so many other people depended on them. She reminded me often that as a man, I have a responsibility to help those who need me, not just myself.”
Rose smiled fondly. “She sounds wonderful.”
“She was. My mother was so proud that I was an American and wanted me to live the American Dream. Do you know my middle name?”
“No,” she said. “What is it?”
“Franklin. Benjamin Franklin North. I was doomed to fall short of her expectations.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Ben shrugged, but couldn’t bring himself to stop talking. Rose pulled the story from him, like she was extracting individual threads from his tapestry and weaving them back together into something stronger, more beautiful. Like she was spinning a fairy tale out of his broken life.
“She refused to speak Japanese in our house, even though my English was far better than hers. I resented it. Her attempts to make me fit in only made me stand out. All of my friends went to the neighborhood school, and they all spoke Japanese. They wanted nothing to do with the rich white man’s bastard son, the one who didn’t look white but didn’t look Japanese, didn’t speak like them but didn’t speak like a white man either.”
Rose reached across the table and put her hand on Ben’s forearm, and he sniffed. Was he about tocry?No, the burning in his eyes was unrelated. He had no tears left to shed, not for himself. Ben had long since put away this part of his life, had locked it up and buried the pain where it could hurt him no longer. And now Rose wanted to drag them to the surface, polish them up and make them look like a child’s story?
No, he wouldn’t allow it. The night before, with Rose in his bed, he felt at peace, as though he was finally ready to move on, to stop grieving Aiko’s death. But now, in the light of morning, with his damaged past and aching heart exposed, he was ashamed to discover he wasn’t ready.
Ben pushed up from the table and threw back the dregs of his cold coffee. “I should get to work in Mrs. Thurgood’s apartment. The floor needs to be refinished—”
“It’s barely eight in the morning. We can talk more—”
“That isn’t what we’re doing here, Rose.” Her berry lips parted as her brows shot up, and Ben dropped his head, guilt climbing up his throat and burning. “I’m not good at this—whatever this is. I don’t know how to be… how we were last night, but still…”
“Guard your heart,” she finished, her voice distant.
Ben didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.
Rose stood without meeting Ben’s eye. “I had not realized a simple breakfast conversation was asking so much of you, but I will endeavor not to attempt to engage you again.”
“Rose—”
She put up her palm. “I’m not good at this—whatever this is—either. But I know that I enjoy being near you and I thought—” Her voice caught, and Ben’s heart twisted. “I thought we were… becomingsomething.”
“What did you think we were going to become?” Ben regretted his words the moment he had uttered them. But he couldn’t take them back, couldn’t change anything about his past. He could only suffer the consequences.
“Not lovers, apparently.” She exhaled roughly. “Well, you won’t need to put up with me for much longer. When will you finish the repairs on Abby’s apartment?”
Ben froze. “I finished yesterday afternoon. Once the paint dries, there’s no reason you can’t move back in.”
“No reason?” She crossed her arms over her chest, but her lip trembled.
He hated causing the pain in her eyes, but he couldn’t continue down this path. He’d been foolish, blinded by lust, to believe he could keep her at a distance. Once Rose left, he could go back to the life he had built for himself in New York. His daily routine of work, helping others, keeping himself so busy he could sink into numbness. He wouldn’t have to face this casual intimacy, the way she had inserted herself into every aspect of his life. Without Rose, he wouldn’t have tofeelanymore.
Good lord, when had he started to feel again? He had to distance himself before she entangled herself so deeply in his soul that he would be torn apart when she left.
“I’m busy today, but I can help you move your things back upstairs this evening.”
Rose clenched her jaw and looked down for a moment, then met his gaze. “No need. I’ll move myself.”
TO: Miss Rose Waverly, ? Batterman & Co, Brooklyn, New York
If you are reading this you have not gone to Boston STOP Mama knows and is furious STOP Where are you QUERY I am terribly worried for your safety STOP Please reply STOP
