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“Okay…?” He cocks his
head to the side, probably confused at the immediate need to shower when I hadn’t even taken a sip of the coffee I’d just made.
“I can clean this up when I’m out…” I don’t even wait for his response before I’m bolting for the master bedroom, completely forgetting that he’d been staying there.
The second I close the door behind me I almost combust. His scent is everywhere. The bed he’d slept on is unmade, the sheets crumpled and possibly slightly warm with evidence that he’d been there. My eyes dart to the walk-in closet that still houses some of my clothes. I walk to it, peering inside to see that he’d hung his clothes in the space that he’d originally inhabited. Tears well in my eyes at my body being pulled under by this sensory overload.
Bennett is back.
In my house.
In my head.
And evidently, if the throb between my legs is any indication, in my fantasies.
I emerge from my bedroom freshly showered, feeling less hungover and more sated than I was forty minutes ago to find Bennett on the couch, the kitchen completely spotless. “I told you I would clean…” I trail off as I take note of his legs propped up on the ottoman. “You should be resting.”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. How was your shower?”
My mind reels, thinking maybe I wasn’t as quiet as I thought and perhaps the shower didn’t drown out the sound of me coming. No way, I wasn’t that loud.
“Fine.” I brush a hand down my body as if to brush off the question and look up at him when I see him staring at me.
“You going to come sit with me or…?” He asks as he points at my spacious couch. I swallow and move towards him like a deer fearful of falling into a trap. A very gorgeous trap that has the power to destroy me.
I sit on the opposite side of the L shaped couch and he gives me a sad smile. “Livi…”
“Bennett.”
“Tell me what happened between us.” He turns off the television. “Tell me why you can’t even look at me.”
I curse myself for putting on mascara knowing that this conversation would push me to tears when I feel the familiar prickle in my eyes. “Bennett, please.”
His eyes furrow. “Are we ever going to talk about it? Or are you just going to let me hate myself forever?” I pry my eyes away from him and his pleading gaze as he continues. “Do you know I didn’t sleep last night?”
My eyes shoot away from the spot on the floor I was fixating on and stare into his sad green eyes. “What?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned for hours before I gave up and just stared at the ceiling, my brain coming up with all of these scenarios as to why we aren’t together. I tried Liv, I tried everything to try and remember. I tried to break into my phone again. I think I’m locked out for twenty-four hours.” He shakes his head. “What kind of shit is that by the way? Apple is fucked up.”
“It’s for security since we store so much of our lives in our phone.” I shrug.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Look, I know you don’t care about me now or the fact that I’m going out of my fucking mind trying to figure out what happened between us…but maybe you care about the old Bennett. I would think you’d care if he was hurting.”
My eyes well up with tears at the sentiment. He’s right. I do care about the Bennett he was before our lives changed forever. The man in front of me is the Bennett I fell in love with. He’s the man that had me coming all over my hand not twenty minutes ago. I hate that he is hurting.
I guess it’s time this Bennett knew the truth.
I shift nervously in my seat and before I can open my mouth, Bennett has moved closer to sit next to me. He opens his hand and rests it on my thigh, palm up, and I stare down at his offering.
“You look like you’re going to burst into tears at any second.” I grit my teeth, to try and stop my body from doing just that when his hand moves and laces with mine. I try to pull my hand from his grasp but he just holds it tighter. “Stop.”
“We…struggled with…” I clear my throat as I prepare myself for hours of questioning and talking and eventually disclosing what I’ve learned about myself that I’ve never told Bennett. “Getting pregnant.”
He squeezes my hand and nods solemnly. “I figured,” he says sadly. “When you said we didn’t have kids.”
I lick my lips and let out a slow shaky breath. “I’ve had two miscarriages…they were…difficult.”
Pause.
