Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Hey,” our dad’s voice booms from the doorway. “What in the hell is going on in here?” He comes into the living room with our mom behind him. She has the look of horror in her eyes as she holds Oliver on her hip. He smiles when he sees me and as much as I want to go to him, I can’t right now.
“Elle, why are you crying?” Mom asks.
Neither Quinn nor I say anything.
“Someone better start talking right now.”
“Ben’s sick,” I tell them. “He’s got cancer.”
“What?” Mom screeches.
“Tell them all of it, Elle. Stop lying to them,” Quinn spits out.
“What’s Quinn talking about, Elle?” Dad asks.
“Ben ended things the night before we met in Vermont for Christmas because I wouldn’t set a wedding date.”
“Wait, what? I think I need to sit down for this. I’m going to go put Oliver down for a nap.” Mom passes by me, and I give Oliver a kiss on the cheek. I want to hold him, love on him, but right now he’d be an escape from my problems.
“Why were the two of you fighting?” Dad asks.
I eye Quinn, who stares back. “I pushed him and then hit him because of Ben.”
“Explain,” Dad demands.
“I knew about Ben, but he swore me to secrecy.”
I look from my dad to Quinn and shake my head. Dad is going to agree with Quinn, and I don’t want to hear it. I head toward the slider and don’t stop when Dad asks me where I’m going. “I need to be alone.”
I’m thankful my parents live on a private beach. It keeps people from loitering or using it as their own space. I get as close to the surf as I can and sit down. There are a group of surfers out there, waiting for the right wave to come in. I watch them for a minute or so, until my mind drifts off to memories Ben and I have shared over the years. From the time we first met, to becoming best friends, to prom, graduation, and moving to California. He’s been my constant companion for as long as I can remember.
My parents sit down beside me, and more tears fall. They wrap me in their love and hold me while I cry. I tell them about the fight Ben and I had before Christmas and how I’ve lied about us being together because I didn’t want to believe things were over between us. They let me tell my story, without interruption, and when I get to the part about Ben being sick, my mom cries.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry,” Mom says as she comforts me.
“He’s afraid I want to be like you guys and never get married.” I look at my parents. “Like, what’s wrong with the way our family works?”
“A lot of people don’t understand why your mom and I haven’t gotten married. This works for us. We’re committed. We don’t need a piece of paper to tell us what we already know. Besides, you don’t see anyone hounding Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell. They’ve been together for a millennium, and it works for them. However, it’s not going to work for everyone. I can see why Ben wants to get married.”
“You can?”
“Sure, honey. He didn’t have a father growing up, and to him it shows stability within the family.”
“That makes no sense, Dad. You didn’t have a father growing up and you’re not married. And Mom . . .” I glance at my mom, and she gives me a slight head shake. We don’t talk about her family. They’re different and chose not to be around when Peyton and I were growing up. Mostly, they didn’t like my father, and when he died, my grandmother thought she could come around and be a part of our lives and my mom told her to take a hike. In the time Peyton and I grew up in Beaumont, the Cohens were rarely around. They showed up for a few birthdays or Christmases, but that’s it. We have our grandpa and our grandma Bess. And sometimes, we have Bianca.
“I love Ben. I truly love him with my whole heart. I know that Peyton and Noah have something deeper, stronger, but that doesn’t mean Ben and I aren’t right for each other.
“You can’t compare your relationship with Ben to Noah and Peyton’s,” Mom says. “They were destined to be with each other. I sensed it when I was pregnant with you both. She responded to his voice all the time.”
“They’re so perfect, it’s hard not to compare.”
“They’re not as perfect as you think,” Dad says. “They struggle, just like your mom and I do.”
My eyes go wide at my dad’s statement. “Bullshit!”
“Don’t cuss, Elle,” Mom chastises me. “And your dad is right. No one has a perfect marriage. Your dad and I don’t always see eye-to-eye on things, and sure we argue, but at the end of the day, we love each other and find a way to compromise.”