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Damn good thing I didn’t bring Luna.
I don’t understand where this nastiness is coming from. Melanie had always told me he was a reclusive grouch, and when I met him, he seemed a bit reserved. But what I’ve seen of him ever since? It’s not this.
“Come on, Ben,” I sigh, trying to rein in my temper that’s rising to meet his and tap into the sweet and tender side I’ve seen more and more of. “I want to help. This isn’t you so I know there must be something really-”
“And you know me so well?” he snaps.
This time I’m the one with no response.
I thought I did. At least a little bit. I thought I saw something genuine in those brown eyes this past weekend while he hovered over me in bed, kissing me, while his arms held me so tight on my porch. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me again; seeing something it wanted to see.
“Look,” I finally say, after swallowing hard and trying to be brave. “I heard you were sick, I texted you to check in, you didn’t answer so I got worried. That’s it,” I tell him plainly as I sweep my hands out to the side. I’m determined to keep my wits about me here. “I don’t think that qualifies me as rude, intrusive, or crazy. I just want-”
“Whatdo you want, Kasey?” He abruptly pulls his arm away from his eyes and I can see lasers shooting out of them, right at me. His voice has risen just as suddenly, and is dripping with venom. The hastiness of his behavior startles me as he surges forth, unloading. “For me to pour my heart out and tell you that on this day five years ago, my wife slammed her car into a jersey barrier and her body was so bloody and mangled I didn’t even recognize her when she was brought into my ER? That I actually snapped the rubber gloves on ready to get to work on what I thought was just another trauma? Her blood and her brains got all over my Nikes! Even when I realized who it was dying on the gurney, I actually tried to save her, and my best friend had me thrown out and restrained by security while he ran the code! I could hear her ribs cracking from the CPR!”
I want to throw up at everything he’s shouting at me. It’s tragic and terrible and gives me a cold, black feeling deep down in in my chest. I don’t know what to do here. His pain is so palpable it’s rapidly growing into its own entity, taking up space in the room, terrifying and devastating me at the same time.
“I’ve never told anyone this shit!” He continues firing at me. “I never told anyone how I punched out my friend, and then as soon as she was in the ground and I knew no one was paying attention, I fucking ran. I ran from what happened and everyone associated with that life without even telling them! Is that what you want to hear?!”
“YES!” I scream, surprised at my own response. “And to be honest, I think you needed to say it!” It catches Ben off guard as well, as indicated when his snarling mask slips just a little before he recovers but lowers his tone.
“I liked being around you because you didn’t push me to talk about anything, you just let me be.”
“Well…” I scoff bitterly in defense of how his words just stung, trying even harder to fight back my tears. “So sorry I messed that up by giving a fuck,” I say with a hint of snark that seems to be coming out full force in an effort to protect me. “You know,” I get ready to inform him as I slowly make my way to the door. “I get that I haven’t been through exactly what you’ve been through but… February 18th, 1996. That’s the day my drunk of a father left. October 9th, 2010. That’s the day the person I thought loved me made himself dead to me; basically smacked me in the face with how quickly his heart could turn cold and abandon me when he found out I was carrying his child. August 24th, 2013. The day a judge took my two-year-old little girl away from me for thirty days. Every year those dates come and I acknowledge them, and then I get back to taking care of my daughter and dismiss them. I don’t let some stupid date beat the shit out of me and steal a day of my life every year! Everyone has a ‘date’, Ben. A date that they associate with a deep pain, but not everyone uses it to be hurtful to the people who care about them.”
“Do you think I enjoy this? Behaving this way?” he asks, gesturing around him.
“You know what, I think you do a little bit. It’s a free pass. Your one day a year where you don’t have to feel bad about being an asshole.” I pause for a moment and bite my lip in an effort to ward off the tears for just another minute and try to regroup, because while I firmly believe this isn’t Ben, this also isn’t me. “Look, I hate that this happened to you. It’s terrible, and I wish I could take it away,” I say sincerely.
“Well you can’t,” he interrupts with a snap that sends a shock wave to my heart.
That hurt.
“That’s right,” I look to the ceiling, still trying to come off apathetic in hopes of maintaining some shred of dignity. “I almost forgot, I will never be that person, the one that makes some kind of difference for another.” I don’t bother looking at his face. I don’t want to see what’s there, and I definitely don’t want him to see my tears. “I’ll just let you get back to it,” I finish, and with one swift motion, I turn away from him, pulling the door with me. No last word for him. My heart can only take so much.
On my way to the car, I reach up and wipe the tears from my cheeks as I try to wrap my mind and my heart around what I just saw. No matter what he says, that’s not the Ben I’ve been getting to know over the summer. I can feel a dark, jagged fissure cracking through my heart as I replay the way he looked, his tone, and his words. This is exactly what I don’t need in my life.
On the drive home, thoughts of wine, cocktails, pills, all flash through my mind and I mentally, frantically try to smack each one away as it comes at me. I can’t go to a meeting right now, though. I told Luna I’d be home soon, and I know in my bones that she’s what I need right now; more than any drug, any meeting, or any wonderful, broken man.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ben
I miss Kasey.She’s long gone, but I want her back.
But why?I cynically ask myself. All you did when she was here was make her your emotional punching bag.The best thing that’s come into my life in five years, and I scared her off by acting like a pathetic bastard that hasn’t even tried to move on with his life. The reality settles over me like another hazy layer of gloom.
I continue to lie here on the couch, too afraid to do anything about it besides feel sorry for myself; something I’m good at, until I miss Kasey so much I want any little part of her I can get, and so I push myself to sit up. It takes effort with my atrophied muscles and no motivational reserves left after this shit-bag of a day. I reach over to the coffee table where my phone lies, powered off. Finally, I turn it back on and wait for it to wake up, and when it does, it beeps with a text notification.
I heard you weren’t feeling well. Are you okay?
It’s a simple question, coming from someone who cares. Someone I’ve been getting to know for several weeks, and with whom I spent a weekend laughing and kissing, feeling nothing but contentment and joy. After that time spent together, I’d want to know if she was okay too.
I know I need to make things right, but not by a call or text, especially when I don’t know exactly what to say. I need to give her some time, and I need to figure out the right thing to say to her.
I lay back on the couch with my phone on my chest, Kasey’s text on display face down. I close my eyes again, for just a moment. When I open them again, it’s provoked by a tingling in my chest. I wake with a start and rub the sleep from eyes. Blinking, I realize the tingling is my cell phone vibrating on my chest.
Hoping it’s Kasey, I immediately grab it up to look at the screen only to see Melanie’s name glowing on it, along with the time.How in the hell is it only 9:52? Why the hell can’t this day be over?
