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I'd been home for twenty minutes and now stood in the bathroom, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I thought I had gotten away with running away and leaving that hellish life with Kendrick behind. I'd hoped that I would have just faded into the enormous sea of people and that he would never find me. I had been so wrong and should have known better. He would always find me. Perhaps I should have spoken to Hunter Malone about a divorce as well and started proceedings while Kendrick had been gone. That way the documents would have been waiting for him upon his arrival. Now it was too late.
A sharp knock on the door caused me to jump. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were still red and puffy, which would definitely give it away that I'd been crying. I dabbed my eyes with the cold cloth I held in my hand, gave my face a final wipe, and threw the cloth on the edge of the sink.
I opened the door and came face to face with a stack of tiles being held by a pair of hands.
"Just me." Ben chuckled.
I stepped off to the side, trying to hide my face while Ben brought in the tile samples. I shut the door behind him, waiting for it to click, and took a deep breath before I turned around. Ben had always been observant and I knew he would notice instantly. I hadn't even made eye contact when I turned around and his deep voice floated through the apartment. "Jess, are you all right?"
I didn't answer him immediately. My eyes floated to the lot of tile samples that lay on the couch. "I love the color choices you picked. Honestly, they couldn't be more perfect." I smiled, fighting the lump in my throat, and then I locked eyes with him. I didn't have to say anything. He already knew something was wrong. In a matter of seconds, I crumbled, burying my face in my hands and turning away from Ben before I let it all out.
It was a matter of seconds before I felt his familiar long-lost touch, his stronghands softly but firmly gripping my shoulders. He slowly turned me and pulled me against him. I rested my head against his chest and wrapped my arms around his waist. His natural scent invaded my nose, comforting me, just like it used to do when we were younger. He said nothing. We just stood like that for a while, his arms around me, his chin on top of my head, until the tears finally stopped.
"Care to tell me what is going on?" he asked as I stepped away.
I blew out a breath and wiped the remains of my tears from my cheeks. "Got ten years?" I laughed.
"You're in luck because I've got all the time you need," he said, going to the fridge and pulling out two beers. He cracked the tops and held a bottle out for me to take.
"Oh, I um, don't drink beer anymore," I said, shaking my head. It was a habit I had fallen into, the words rolling off my tongue just as they had trained me to do, like they belonged there.
"Everything is easier to talk about with a beer," he said, taking a swig. "Drink up."
I reached and took the bottle, and just like when we were teens, I brought it to my lips, letting the cold, refreshing liquid roll down my throat. It had been so long since I'd had one that I almost forgot what it tasted like.
"So why don't you drink beer anymore?" he questioned.
"Beer bloats. Plus, Kendrick doesn't like it when I drink anything, never mind beer. He says it does nothing but add on extra calories that I don't need."
"Kendrick?"
"Kendrick is my husband. I met him shortly after I left home and went to LA. He's an agent. He was looking for a young model. He promised me he could get me connected to the big-time agencies. He promised that he knew people. I went to parties with him, eventually ended up dating him, and not knowing any better, he introduced me to people, but not the right people. I got handed a few jobs, but it was only a matter of time before I questioned everything. Before him I had been doing better on my own, but he convinced me that these types of things take time. So, I trusted him, then we got engaged, and then married, and six years later, there's still no big contract or the magic people he had promised. As for my career, it has completely fizzled."
"I see."
I glanced at Ben. I could see it in his eyes. He knew what was really going on. He had never been a stupid man. "When I got news of my grandfather dying, I mentioned nothing to Kendrick. I was planning on leaving him anyway, so I ran with my friend Kate."
"Why were you planning on leaving him? I mean, you look like he has taken care of you. You have nice clothes, you look good, a little thin for my liking, but overall you don't look like you are lacking for anything."
"No, you're right, I am not lacking. He has provided a suitable home for me, but it's the rest of it."
"What do you mean by the rest of it?" he asked.
I took another mouthful of beer and picked at the label on the bottle. "He's been cheating on me with other models—you know, the younger ones. We have a very broken marriage that I am running away from, and..." I stopped. I couldn't utter the words, the truth of him hitting me.
"What else is there, Jess?"
I didn't want to admit it, but the words just flowed from my mouth. "He's controlling and abusive. He controls every penny I spend, every calorie I eat, and I had been here about a week before I could let anyone in this apartment because of..." I stopped and turned away so Ben couldn't see my face. I walked over to the window and looked down at the bustling city below.
"Because of what, Jess?"
"The bruises on my face."
Ben was quiet for a moment, and I turned to look at him. "Well, at least he doesn't know where you are, so that is a good thing."
"That's not true. Apparently, paparazzi were following Kateand got a picture of us in a restaurant. Once the magazine got the image, they saw me and turned the article into a divorce inquiry. Kendrick saw it and now he knows where I am. He called Kate today. He's coming to get me and he is pissed." I glanced at Ben, who now gripped the beer bottle in his hand so hard his knuckles were white. "Say something... please," I begged.
It was like someone had turned on a switch. He loosened his grip on the bottle, finally putting it down on the counter, and walked over to the couch, picking up the tiles. He brought them over and set them on the counter, reaching down and picking up the sample of the cupboard door, laying everything side by side. "Do you like these?"
