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“Don’t, Ben.”
I move away but he follows, his fingers catching my wrist and spinning me gently.
“Talk to me, Mikaela. What am I missing?”
I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to talk about it. Not when things are going well. And now he’s looking at me like that - with sad, painful eyes and too much understanding.
“Please, Ben. Just leave it.”
When I pull away from him he lets me. He watches as I step around him, moving to grab my phone from where it sits and deleting every trace of that whispered, garbled, drunk mess that has broken the warmth around me, before grabbing my purse from behind the couch.
“What are you doing?” Ben’s voice is pained and he’s looking at me like I’m some wounded animal.
My chest aches.
Broken.
It’s all broken and he doesn’t even know why.
“I should go.” I look to the floor and blink back my tears.
He shifts quickly, taking my bag from my hands and placing it on the couch, before putting his hands on my cheeks and ducking to look at me.
“Please don’t.” His eyes soften and he tries to smile. “I’m sorry, I won’t ask again. Just - just don’t leave.”
I swallow as I shake my head.
“It’s different now, Ben.” I’m not sure what is different - this strange relationship that we have? Or the way I look at myself? Maybe just the way he looks at me? “This was a mistake.”
His fingers drop and he gulps. “Do you - do you really think that?”
I stare at him.
“Mikaela, do you really think this is a mistake? Because if you do, fine. We’ll end this and we won’t talk about it again. But if you’re just saying that because you’re afraid of whatever you’re not telling me, then that’s something we can deal with. I need you to be sure. Because I’m not going to ask you to tell me if you don’t want to. I -shit, Mik- I think I can put the pieces together myself.” He reaches forwards and cups my face again. I close my eyes. “But I don’t regret this. I don’t regret you and I don’t want to lose you. Not when I finally have you.”
His fingers brush behind my neck, holding me gently as his thumb traces my jaw.
“Just please don’t make me say it.” My voice is broken.
Ben knows.
“Okay.” His lips brush against mine as my hand comes up to hold his. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
Ben
My blood is boiling and there is nothing I can do about it. Mikaela’s face is as white as a sheet and a cold sweat has broken against her neck. I didn’t lie when I said I could piece it together - I could and I think I have - but God do I hope I’m wrong.
“I just can’t say it.” She hasn’t opened her eyes but her voice is shaking and I know if she opens them now I’ll see pools beneath the green.
“You don’t have to.” I lean in and kiss her again, thankful that she is letting me. “Ever. Okay? You never have to say it.”
Her fingers are wrapped around mine and when I pull back to look at her she leans into me, her head resting against my chest and her breathing unsteady.
“I’m scared, Ben,” she confesses against my skin.
“What’s scaring you?”
Don’t say me. Please don’t say me.
