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His smile falters when he sees the look I’m giving, and I wonder if my unfazed look is coming off as something else entirely. I look away from his face and down his body, seeing him in normal wear instead of the hospital gown.
Caroline had brought some clothes yesterday for him to wear home from the hospital, and my mind immediately curses her for what she chose. I try my best to keep my eyes away from his pelvis, but the gray sweatpants he’s wearing makes my eyes go there almost immediately before sliding up the rest of his frame. A white t-shirt sits underneath his leather jacket and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Caroline picked these clothes on purpose, knowing that it has the power to turn me on instantly. Visions of dry humping him in my bed while he was wearing only gray sweatpants come at me in full force and instinctively I press my thighs together, trying to dull the ache between my legs brought on by the memory. I remember the way his strong arms would move me back and forth against his cock as a way to get both of us off and my mouth waters. When I meet his gaze again, his eyes are dark and hungry, like he can read my mind and vividly see the dirty images playing on a loop.
“You good, man?” Wren asks, effectively breaking our eye contact. I clear my throat and look away from them before turning back towards my car. “Liv!”
I turn back around and give him a look as he slides two clear bags that have Bennett’s clothes from the accident as well as the medicine he needs to be taking into the backseat of my car. “What?”
“Now you remember what he needs to take and when?” Wren says as he pulls one of the orange pill bottles out of the bag.
I roll my eyes. “I do have two degrees, Wren. I can read.”
“As can I,” Bennett quips from behind him before he slides into my passenger seat.
“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” I whisper. I didn’t stay at the hospital last night. I went home and dwelled on the stupidity of my decision to let Bennett stay with me.
Sure, I was being selfless by pushing my own feelings aside—and helpful and whatever else—but I wasn’t over Bennett. Not by a long shot. And now I was letting him back into my home, our home, and my heart. My heart that hadn’t felt full since the last night he slept there.
Is this the path to reconciliation?
Do I even want to reconcile?
I’m still so angry but do my feelings for him trump my anger?
I’d give anything for him to remember. At least, he’d know where we stood.
Hell, so would I.
When I got home last night, I’d had one too many glasses of wine and then left a very dramatic voicemail on my therapist’s answering machine.
And my mother’s.
And now neither will stop calling me.
Or David for that matter.
I really need to call him back.
Wren motions me a few steps away from my car, just in case Bennett has the window open, to be a bit more out of earshot. “It’s not going to be that bad, Liv. It should only be for a few weeks to a month,” Wren says, interrupting my laundry list of people I’m currently avoiding.
“And if he doesn’t regain his memory?” I rub my hand over my forehead before tucking a wavy strand behind my ear.
“Then we go from there. But at that point, he’ll be strong enough and somewhat acclimated to his new normal that he can be on his own.”
The wind picks up, chilling me down to my bones and I rub my arms to try and warm myself. “Fine.”
“I’ll try and stop by later and check on him, but I have to work late. Call me if you need anything. If you can’t get me, you have the nurse’s number, right?” He looks at me from over his glasses, and I can see something different entirely in his eyes. Maybe he’s realizing that this is going to be harder on me than he thought.
“Yeah.” I let out a breath.
“It’s going to be okay, Liv, I promise.”
“Yeah sure, Wren.” I lean against the car and look up at my best friend’s husband and my husband’s best friend. “I’m scared he’ll break me again,” I blurt out and I can feel the tears in my eyes. I try my best to not let them fall, knowing that the pick-up lane of a hospital is not the place for this breakdown or breakthrough or whatever it is that’s happening to me.
“Hey.” His voice is strong and direct, and when I look up, his glasses have been pushed into his hair. “He hates himself for what he did to you.” I go to say something when he puts a hand up. “I know you think I’d say anything to get you guys back together, but that is the truth, Liv. He made a mistake and he hates himself for it. He went back to her again after that night because she knew the situation. She let him be broken over you. Any other woman would have told him he had too much baggage, or he would have had to hide it from her. He got to be himself with her. He could be with her and still be in love with you. He was using her to try and get over you. Might I add, he was failing.”
My heart softens slightly at the thought, though it does nothing for my subconscious screaming this is exactly what we’re afraid of! “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
He huffs in what I assume to be annoyance. “It’s supposed to make you understand that he is always going to be in love with you.”
