Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131799 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
They stay in the car for a moment, as if discussing something.
Ben hops out and I smile hopefully. Oh, wait… there’s someone with him.
15
Bridget
Ben looks up, and for a brief moment I see hope in his eyes before his shutters come down and he nods my way.
My heart starts to thump.
Who’s in the cab with him?
He stands to the side, and a man hops out and he laughs out loud.
“Bridget!” the man calls.
I smile. I just want to run to Ben, but I don’t want to embarrass myself. I stay standing on the spot by the door.
The man rushes up the steps to greet me. “Hello, I’m Rick.” He grabs me in an embrace. “So nice to meet you.” He holds me at arm’s length to study me, and then turns around and punches Ben hard in the arm. “Fucking told you.” He laughs.
He runs back down the steps, back to the cab, and turns. “Whenever you two are finished doing whatever the hell you are going to do, try and fit Ally and me in for a dinner.”
Ben puts his hands into his jeans pockets and watches the cab drive away.
His eyes come back to me and I wither. He doesn’t seem too happy to see me. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
Fuck.
In my mind we were going to have a storybook reunion, where he would run to me and we would kiss. He would declare his undying love and tell me how much he’s missed me. I should have known better, because nothing is ever storybook when it comes to Ben.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hello, Bridget,” he replies calmly, clearly standing his ground.
My face falls. “You don’t seem too happy to see me.”
“Why are you here?” he asks.
“Because…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Because I love you.”
His eyes search mine, but he doesn’t reply.
I take his hands in mine. “I’ve missed you, Ben,” I whisper. “I’ve worked it out now, and it’s going to be okay.”
His eyes drop to our entwined hands.
“Do I get a kiss hello?” I murmur.
His cold eyes rise to meet mine. “Let’s go inside.” He turns and walks up to my suitcase to wheel it inside, and I follow with my heart freefalling from my chest.
He’s angry.
We ride the elevator in silence and I can smell alcohol on him. “You went out tonight?” I ask.
“Yes.”
The elevator door opens and he strides out into the corridor. I have to nearly run to keep up with him. I stand behind him nervously as he unlocks the door to his apartment.
For years I’ve wondered what Ben’s home would look like. Now I’m here, it doesn’t seem real. These were definitely not the circumstances I thought I would be seeing his place in.
“How long have you lived here?” I ask.
“About ten years.”
“In this apartment for ten years?” I ask, trying to make small talk.
“No, I lived somewhere else in Washington. I moved here about six or seven years ago.”
“You moved here when you worked for Joshua?”
‘’Yes, I bought this place when I was with Joshua.” He rolls his lips as he thinks for a moment. “He’s the one who found it, actually. We came home one weekend and bought it.”
“Joshua has been here?” I ask, surprised.
“Many times.” He unlocks the final lock with the key.
“Oh.” This is news. Interesting.
“It’s probably a mess,” he says as we walk in slowly. “I didn’t expect company when I left.”
The foyer is large with a trendy, huge abstract painting on the wall filled with beautiful greens. A small, thin hallstand sits along the wall.
“Wow,” I whisper.
We go through an archway and my mouth falls open. It has a Moroccan feel to it. The walls are white, and tall archways connect the rooms. It’s huge—another warehouse kind of setup. The kitchen is along the left wall, all black and metal with a huge stone bench placed in the middle of it. The lounge room has a large, black leather lounge. The floors are made from dark timber, but different shades of green antique rugs are scattered everywhere. “This is beautiful,” I murmur as I look around.
The furniture is matching, made from chunky wood, and is super masculine, while somehow having a trendy vibe to it.
He shrugs and holds his hands out. “It’s home.”
He pushes my suitcase up against the wall and his eyes come back to me. He puts his hands on his hips defensively.
“You’re angry,” I whisper.
He glares at me and his jaw clenches.
“Ben…” I pause. “I just needed to work through this. I needed some time.”
His cold eyes hold mine. “I don’t want you to work through anything to settle for me,” he sneers.
“Ben.” I go to grab him and he pulls out of my reach.
“Don’t touch me,” he snaps. “The spare room is on the left; make yourself comfortable.” He storms up the hall and slams the door behind him.