He pushes into me with one sharp thrust that leaves us both breathless.
He moves maddeningly slowly inside me at first, rocking his hips so with each thrust his pelvic bone brushes against my still sensitive clit. I spur him on, grabbing his ass so he knows to go harder and faster. His mouth finds mine and we careen over the cliff together, every part of us mingling, tangling, so closely woven together I don’t know that we can ever come apart.
It takes several minutes for our heartbeats to slow, our bodies to disengage, our kisses to soften.
I look at Ben, really look at him, and wonder how I could even for one second think there is anything missing in my life here. Because when I have him, I have everything.
He pulls out of me with a groan and hops up from therug, reaching a hand down to help pull me up. “Come on, we’re too old to fall asleep on the floor.”
I scoff, knowing he’s absolutely right. “Speak for yourself.”
We go through our nightly routine, showering and brushing teeth and climbing into bed. It’s domestic but not boring, and I relish every minute of it. Ben drifts off to sleep basically the moment the covers are tucked around us, but for once, I don’t immediately join him.
Ben stays sound asleep, despite my tossing and turning, until I finally can’t lie there for another second. I carefully slide out of bed so as not to disturb him, closing the bedroom door behind me.
I curl up under a blanket on the couch, reaching for a book Ben has left on the coffee table. If one of his boring medical books can’t put me to sleep, I don’t know what can. I open the pages, picking a spot at random to begin.
Only to find stuck between the pages something that catches my breath in my chest. Two somethings, actually.
The first is the check from Two Hearts Café, the one Mimi left for us that first night. It should surprise me that he kept it, but maybe Ben really did know from the beginning that we were meant to end up here.
The second thing is an old photo, one that someone took the time to print out and not just leave stranded in the cloud. The paper is worn and creased, like it’s been handled, carefully, but often over the years. I study the four people in the picture, my heart cracking open as I take in the details.
The man who has Ben’s thick brown hair. The woman with his whiskey-brown eyes. The little girl with the wide grin and a skinned knee, looking up at her older brother like he hung the moon.
My eyes linger the longest on Ben. He must be about twelve years old in this picture, but I would know that smile anywhere. It’s the same smile all four of the people in the photo share—open and warm and real.
This is the kind of family I’ve never allowed myself to want. Not because it’s not appealing, but because I know it’s out of reach.
But Ben has that family, the perfect one, the one where people fight, but make up. Where they tease, but also show love. Where they show up for one another, support one another, truly enjoy one another’s company.
My finger traces over Ben’s face, his cheeks still a little rounded with youth, smattered with a spray of freckles that have faded as he’s gotten older.
Ben can’t go the rest of his life without these people, without his family. He doesn’t mention them often, and I assumed it was because they’re not close, that he misses them as little as I miss my family. But I think I had that all wrong. Maybe he doesn’t talk about them because it’s too painful, because the missing them is too overwhelming.
And yet, he told me he’s willing to stay here in Heart Springs. With me.
He would give up his family to be with me.
And I would let him. I would stay here, where everything is perfect and easy, if it means never having to face my grandmother. Never having to tell her I no longer want the legacy she’s built for me, never having to face her disappointment.
If I never have to tell her I’m running away, just like Mom did, then maybe I won’t have to face that disappointment. Never have to deal with the fact that maybe I am like my mom, and maybe that’s not such a bad thing.
But I can’t do that to Ben. He won’t leave me, would never think of trying to find a way out of here that doesn’t include me. He would put me first, above his own needs, always.
I stick the photo back between the pages and close the book, mind made up.
It’s time to go home.
28
The next morning, I stride down Main Street with a purpose. It’s technically Christmas Day, but I have a feeling the one person I really need will be right where she always is.
Mimi sits at our usual table at the café, one mug in her hands, another waiting for me in front of my chair.
“Do you really not have any other guests in town whose torture you oversee?” I slide into the seat across from her and immediately reach for my mug.
She chuckles. “You are more than enough for me, Cam.”
