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Fuck, I swallow the lump in my throat. “It’s just a ring that doesn’t fit on any other finger.” I twist it nervously.
Ben appears from nowhere and nods at Brock in greeting.
Brock glares at him. “What’s that fucking ring on her finger?” he growls.
My eyes widen.
Oh, my God. I hold my breath.
Don’t say it, don’t say it.
Ben lifts his chin defiantly and puts his hands on his hips. “What does it look like? It’s a wedding ring,” he snaps. “We got married.”
Brock jumps from the deckchair and grabs Ben by the T-shirt. “You better be fucking lying, prick, or I’m going to kill you myself.”
22
Bridget
My eyes widen in horror. “What the hell are you doing? Stop it!” I cry as my eyes flicker between the two of them; they grip each other by the shirt.
Ben pushes Brock off him and he goes flying back.
“You fucking married her?” Brock screams in outrage. “You married her without her family knowing??”
My face falls. “Brock.”
Ben’s chest rises and falls as he sucks in air. His eyes hold Brock’s and his face falls with disappointment at what Brock just said.
“What… you…?” Brock screws up his face. “You just thought you would sneak it in after being back for two fucking minutes?”
The boys come running out of their house to see what the commotion is all about. “What’s going on?” Ethan calls.
“Go inside,” Ben calls.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” Brock sneers.
Ben keeps his eyes firmly on Brock. “Bridget. Go inside,” he commands.
Oh, no. “Stop it. Stop it, the both of you.”
“Go inside!” Ben yells.
“Don’t you speak to her like that,” Brock sneers.
Ben glares at him. “I’ll do whatever I want with my wife, and you’ll have no fucking say in it.”
My eyes widen. “Ben, cut it out!” I cry. “Stop it! The both of you.”
Brock walks up to Ben so that their noses are almost touching. “Say that again, prick.”
“Stop. Stop it now!” I push my way in between them, and I face Brock. “Brock, this was me. I’m the one who wanted to get married. I pushed for it, not the other way around.” I turn to Ben. “Why did you tell him? I told you not to tell anyone.”
“I’m not going to lie to him, Bridget,” Ben growls, and he takes one long last look at the two of us, and then storms inside. The door slams with a loud bang.
Brock is so mad—furious—and the other boys all watch on for a moment to make sure Ben has stayed inside. Eventually, though, they disappear inside.
Brock’s angry eyes turn to me. “You got fucking married?” I can hear the hurt in his voice.
My eyes fill with tears. This is not the way I wanted him to find out.
Damn, Ben.
“Let’s go for a walk down to the ledge.” I sigh.
His eyes hold mine and I link my arm through his. “Come on. Please.” I pull him.
We walk over to the back of the pool area and open the metal gate. We head down the stone steps that hug the cliff. There is a natural rock ledge about the size of a tennis court. It has an antique handrail and three large trees. There are a few day beds down here, too. It’s peaceful, and one of my favourite places on Earth. Our own personal lookout to Heaven.
We get to the bottom and he leans on the handrail, looking out to sea. I do the same beside him.
I exhale heavily and frown as I try to articulate my wording. “Have you ever had a sense of urgency about something that…” My voice trails off.
“That what?”
“That doesn’t make logical sense, but makes you so happy you can’t stop yourself?”
He looks at me flatly.
“I’m going to tell you exactly how it happened. It wasn’t planned, and I never expected it… but I’m so happy that it did.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Ben and I are in love. You know that bit.”
His eyes hold mine.
I shake my head. “Like, so in love, Brock. So in love that nothing else matters. He’s not like us. He’s… damaged.”
A frown crosses his face.
“How much do you know about Ben’s childhood?”
He pauses for a moment. “Not much.”
“I’m going to tell you something, because I want you to understand why I did it. And I want you to know how much it meant to me to be able to do it the way I did.”
He purses his lips and rolls his eyes. “Go on.”
“Ben is a twin.”
He frowns.
“His twin sister, Meika, was murdered when he was twelve.”
He listens.
“His father committed suicide a year later, and his mother enrolled him in the army when he was fifteen, because she was dying of cancer.”
He drops his head, already affected by the story.
“Ben’s never had a home, Brock.”
His eyes meet mine.
“He’s never celebrated his birthday since the day his sister died. He said that if Meika doesn’t get a birthday, neither does he.”
