Page 76 of Best Man on Campus

“Majik? Ha. She’s not like Ben. She’s more like me, only better because she has her shit together, cool and under control.”

“But you care about her?”

“Yes.” I have to admit to that, even with the familiar melancholy pain that arises when I do. “But it’s different with Ben.”

“How about your music and singing? You care about those things a great deal. Mrs. Majiski told me you performed in New York recently.”

“Brooklyn. That’s what got me into this mess. I should have stayed in the backwoods of New Hampshire where I belong.”

“With Ben?”

I laugh. “Checkmate.” The clever woman knows how to bring things around to where she wants them. The laugh sends a shooting pain through me, the same way my soul feels when I remember the joy of being in Ben’s arms, him being inside me.

“What are you going to do with your second chance at life, Jazzy? Do you want to embrace all those things you didn’t want to lose?”

I didn’t want to lose Ben, didn’t want to never hold him again, didn’t want to lose Majiski, wanted a chance to sing more songs, maybe even a happy song.

“Sure,” I say. “I want to start fresh like this is my second chance at life. I want everything.” My voice is a whisper like I’m in a confessional. “Just tell me how to do it, Doc, without the horrifying pain.”

* * *

Ben returns in the evening and I’m ready for him. Sleep and a notch down in the meds after I complained to Dr. Dani have me feeling better. I can tolerate all kinds of physical pain. I’m only a wimp when it comes to the emotional screws.

He walks in with a smile and a box of chocolates, zeroing in for a short, heart-stuttering kiss.

“You look like a sexy angel in your white nightgown. I’m not used to seeing you in bed with—”

I playfully slap his face, making him laugh.

“You saved my life Bennie. I have no choice. You’ve forced me into reconsidering whether unicorns do exist. Though I’m not admitting to anything yet.”

He laughs and then he sits down and leans over me, going serious like he always does, making my belly flip. He caresses my face and I know he’s going to say something unbearably corny and loving and I don’t know how to stop him, or maybe I don’t want to stop him this time.

“Do you know how scared I was that I was going to lose you?”

“You’re never scared. You’re too… everything. Too perfect.” Especially for the likes of me. But I’m not laying that on him now. I don’t want to argue. I didn’t want to lose him either—not by fate snatching my life away. When I give Ben up, I want it to be my choice and I want to make sure he doesn’t feel even a pinch of pain, no matter how much pain it causes me.

I’ve lived through a lot of shit. I’m tough enough to live through giving up Ben. The thing is I’m not sure if it’ll be any easier than witnessing the murder of Killian my prince charming turned mother fucking raper and starring demon in my dreams. He’s so horrible he makes my no-show mother look like a saint. Shit. I have some things to work out. Did he love me or didn’t he? Did he only want me for a sexual pet? I have a feeling Dr. Dani will tell me it’s not black and white because life never is. No one is ever all good or all bad.

Except Ben fucking Weaver, right? I’m such a fucking hopeless case. I’m scared shitless to find out he’s not a unicorn. Maybe that’s the selfish part of my reason for ending whatever the hell our relationship is. Soon.

“I’m far from perfect.” He heaves a breath like he’s taking a deep dive and my blood goes cold. “But I care. Enough to want to see you whole, get past your demons. All of them.”

“Haven’t we been through enough of that crap?”

He shakes his head and takes out his phone. I notice the tremble in his hand as he taps in a number.

“I’m calling your mother.” He looks at me dead serious, with the phone to his ear.

He’s calling my fucking mother while I’m lying in bed, trapped? I want to strangle him, rage clawing up to save me from fear. He puts the phone to my ear and I grab it from him and throw it. But the bastard retrieves it, tells the woman he claims is my mother that he dropped it and puts it on speakerphone so I can hear her voice. Fucking Ronnie Romano, my mother’s voice that I remember from so long ago it feels like I’m dreaming again, but it comes out loud and clear on the speaker.

“Is Jasmine there?”

“I’m fucking here and everyone calls me Jazzy—not that you’d even know the first thing about me.”

“I know you’re a spitfire,” she says. She doesn’t have to tell me I get it from her. Grams told me that often enough.

“You need to tell Jazzy about Killian, Ronnie,” Ben commands and I like it, like that he’s taking charge of my fucking mother.