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“I know.”
“Can I ask you something?” I didn’t even wait for him to answer that, my mouth running on nerves. “Mabel told me something. They said you needed me more than I needed you. Any idea what they meant?”
Cue coughing attack. Yeah. Ben seriously needed to give up smoking. Now. I expected him to come out with a stern ‘no’ once his lungs had calmed down, but instead?
“Yeah. I do. It’s hard to explain, and we’re not there yet. I don’t know you well enough to…tell you things like that.”
“Honesty. I like it. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
“We should do more honesty,” I said. “I mean, you can ask me anything. It’s not like you don’t know all of my secrets already.”
“I can ask you anything?” He actually smiled. Then he didn’t.
“Why didn’t you leave him? Why didn’t you just…end things with him?”
I hadn’t expected that. Not here, not now. Too much. Too soon. And yes, Ben and I were definitely on the same page when it came to not knowing each other well enough yet, but while my chest was heaving with the gut punch of his question, my mouth wasstill on a roll.
“Because I loved him, and once you love someone, it’s hard to learn to unlove them. And the worse it got, the more guilt was attached. He’s a really, really damaged person, and I used to think that most of that damage had come from me. If he hadn’t been with me, his life would have been very different. He could have met a girl and then his parents wouldn’t have been giving him hell, and maybe he wouldn’t have been so…angry.”
“That’s not your fault. You fucking know that? Right?”
Ben was hard when he needed to be, his voice sharp as a knife.
“Yes, I know I should have left years ago. I should have walked out the first time he hurt me, but he wasn’t always like he is now. He was sometimes kind and affectionate and made me laugh. But he was always in control, and in the beginning, that was a comfort. I trusted him. Until I didn’t. He made me look at things differently. Made me think that I wanted what he wanted. And I put up with it because…”
I hadn’t noticed the tears. Fuck. I couldn’t sit here and cry, especially as we were no longer alone on the veranda. I just wanted to sink through the floor.
“You put up with it because it was easier to do that than not to. You only did what you could.”
“Don’t,” I warned, hiding my face in my hands.
“If you need to talk to me, you can always talk to me.”
“I know.” Too many words. Too many thoughts in my head.
“I’ve got you.”
His hand was back over mine, and I held on, letting the silence around us shield us from the world. I was probably making marks on his skin, traces of my fingernails right there on his hand as I let go.
“Go back down there and give them hell,” he said. “And make me a snack for when I get home, will you? I should be back just after midnight, and then if you want to talk, I’ll be there. Okay?”
“Okay.” I was breathing far too fast, but I could do this. “No smoking,” I wheezed out.
“How about this? When I think I need a smoke, I make you a snack instead.”
“A snack?”
“Yeah. It should be a thing. You make me snacks? I make you snacks. Give me something to focus on.”
“Okay.” Compromise. I could work with that. Him and his bloody snacks. “But I can’t promise I’ll eat it. Some of the things you like are scary. Like that mouldy cheese. And those tiny fish thingies.”
“I’ll try to make it palatable. Less scary.”
“Deal,” I said quietly. “No more smoking.”
“No smoking. And I will drop you something to nibble at by your desk in a bit.”
