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“Of course,” Lilah murmured, not sure why he felt the need to explain this to her.
There was a long pause, during which he simply stared at her.
“Will you be okay?”
“What do you mean?” She was genuinely baffled by his question and she heard him swallow before he brought his hand to her face and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“Without me?”
His question startled an incredulous laugh from her. His hand stilled and, for a fleeting moment, she could swear he looked hurt. The expression faded so quickly; she dismissed it as a trick of the light.
“I’ll be fine.” Her voice was dry and she barely managed to keep the sarcasm at bay. “In fact, I think I’ll go back to work too. I may have to set up a work space in the living room for now though.”
She’d had to give up her studio rental space after deciding to take her mental health break. She hadn’t been sure when she’d return to full time work and it made no sense to keep paying for a space she wasn’t using. Now, it felt a bit like a starting over, even though she’d already had so many queries from past and future clients about when she was returning that she knew she’d be inundated once she started taking bookings again. She didn’t want to make the same mistakes, and had to place restrictions on how many clients she would see per day and per week.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“What do you mean? Of course, it’s necessary. I’m not going to sit around here all day doing nothing, Ben! I know you think my work is little more than a glorified hobby. But I’m damned good at it, and it makes people happy. And—”
“Jesus,” he muttered with a sigh, his long-suffering tone of voice halting her in mid-tirade. “I meant it won’t be necessary because I’ve already had a space set up for you.”
She gaped at him in surprise.
“You have?”
“In my office. Yes.” The words were curt and she could tell he was—well she wasn’t sure what he was. Irritated, maybe. Impatient, perhaps… Yet her brain kept circling back to hurt. He seemed hurt again.
“Thank you?” She truly wasn’t sure how she felt about sharing an office with him again. They hadn’t done so since her college days, back when she was a foolish young girl with a massive crush on an unattainable guy.
“Fuck,” he muttered beneath his breath, the exasperated word heavily tinged with exhaustion. “Just go to sleep. I’m knackered.”
Lilah sighed and turned away from him, tucking her hand under her head to stare at the wall. He moved around for a bit before switching off the dim bedside light and settling down as well. He usually slept with his front to her back and during the night she often woke to find him spooning her, his knees cozily tucked into the crooks of hers. So often over the last week she’d woken up crying in the night, and Ben would drape an arm over her, tug her against his warm chest and hold her while she wept. He would make gentle soothing, shushing sounds and kiss her hair and temple. They never spoke of it in the mornings that followed but Lilah had come to rely on his solid strength and for the first time, now that she wasn’t as laden down by her own grief, she considered his.
Did he cry when she cried? Or did he stifle those emotions? Did he need her to hold him as well?
She was ashamed that it had never occurred to her on any of those long, desperately sad nights, to turn in his arms and reciprocate his comforting embrace.
Ben’s reserve made him seem so self-contained and impervious to the frailties of human emotion. She knew if she brought it up now, he would clam up. And freeze her out. She wasn’t willing to risk that rejection. Not when she’d decided to leave in just a couple of months’ time.
She sighed again and he seemed to mistake the sound for sadness and hooked an arm around her waist. She froze for a moment, before relaxing into his warmth. She placed her hand over his where it rested on her abdomen and stroked his skin soothingly. Able to offer him at least this small token of comfort.
“Did you enjoy spending time with Blake today?” he asked after a moment’s silence.
Lilah hesitated before replying. This was new, Ben never indulged in small talk, never asked her how she felt, or how her day was.
“Yes. Thank you for inviting her over.”
The gentle stroking of his hand on her abdomen paused before continuing.
“No problem.”
Curiosity prompted her to ask, “Why did you do it?”
“You have to process your grief, Lilah. And I thought having someone you trusted to talk to about it would help.”
