Beautiful Things Never Last (23 page)

             
I learned to how to cook wild boar sauce in Italy. I learned how to make pasta and a perfectly crusty ciabbata. But from Amalea, I learned far more important lessons. I learned s
fogliatelle
is quite possibly the most labor intensive food I’ve ever prepared—but like most things, worth the effort. I learned that Grappa never goes down smooth
,
no matter what you eat with it. And I learned that letting go of guilt can open the door to happiness and second chances

             
“I love you. More,” I say.

F
ifteen

B
EN

I hang up with Quinn, grinning like a jackass.
I have no clue whether or not she could hear a word that I was saying, but hearing her voice again, knowing that she’s on her way home—nothing
else
matters.
             

             
“That was Quinn?” Caroline
asks
, standing in the doorway to my old room. I straighten my smile a bit so I look a little less like a fool.

             
“Yep,” I say. I carefully pack my camera in my bag and set it on the edge of my bed along with my duffel. “Listen, Linney, I’m heading home today, but I don’t want you to think that that means that I’m not here for you.
”

             
Her shoulders curl in and she gives a disappointed frown.

             
“
Mom said that you
r
parents are working on a restraining order and that you may be able to go home soon, and I’m always a call away, you know that right?”

             
“Will Quinn let you call me?”
she asks.

             
It’s a valid question, I guess, but the acid
-
laced tone Caroline
wraps it up in
catches me off guard.

             
“I’m sure she’ll understand
.O
nce I have a chance to explain it to her.”

             
“And if she doesn’t? Then what am I supposed to do?”

             
I let the question rewind and repeat in my head a few times, trying to come up with a suitable answer.

             
“Linney, it’s going to be okay. Trust me.” I pull her in for a quick hug and feel her
body go slack in my arms. She’s relaxed, and I’m reminded of what she said the other day in the
restaurant
.
T
his feels safe
. I pull her in tighter and rest my chin on top of her head. I don’t know what more I can do for her, but right now, this appears to be enough.

             
“Benny, you forgot to pack
t
h
—” Mom interrupts, holding my K
indle.

             
Caroline pulls
away and walks out of the room, not
taking her eyes off of the floor.

             
“Thanks, Ma,” I say, stashing the e
-
reader in
to
my carry-on.  “It was good to see you and Pop.”

             
“You too. I’m glad you came. I really didn’t know what I was going to do, my first Christmas without my boy around.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she realizes that it’s not true. Because last year, I missed Christmas with her. Last year, I was with
my
girl.

             
“Maybe next year we can all be together,” I say.

             
Mom doesn’t reply, but she doesn’t spit in my face either, so I’ll call it progress.

             
“Listen, I’m going to take a shower before I leave for the airport.” I can’t
wait to be back in California.
I should beat Quinn in by several hours, enough
time
to make it home and change and make sure the apartment is clean. I don’t remember how it looked when I left, I ran out in such a hurry to get to Atlanta. It seems like months, not days
,
since I was in our home, eating crappy food, alone.
I was so miserable that last day in town, but now I can’t wait to get back.

             
“Don’t forget to say good-bye to your dad
and
me
. And re-pack that bag, it looks terrible,” Mom says. I laugh as I glance down at my duffel, crammed full of unfolded clothes. I was hardly able to zip the damn thing.

             
“Sure thing, Ma.” I kiss her cheek before she walks away.

             
I gather up a fresh change of clothes, turn the shower to scalding hot and step inside. I tip my head back into the heavy stream of water and let my mind wander to how much I’m looking forward to having my shower mate back when Quinn and I are home again.

             
“Ben?” Caroline’s voice interrupts my thoughts at the worst possible time.

             
I clear my throat.
“Yeah,” I rasp out.

             
Do I peer out from behind the curtain? Do I turn off the water?

             
“I k
now it’s weird that I’m in here, we haven’t— I mean, it’s probably not appropriate. You’re just leaving and
this just couldn’t wait.”

             
Linney and I never had sex when we were together—or ever. It’s not like I’m a total prude, we did other things. We’ve seen each other naked. But she’s right, her being in here is not the best idea.
             
“What’s up, Linney? I’ll be out in just a second.”

             
“I just want you to know that you have options. I mean, I know you say you’re happy there in California, but we were happy once, too.”

             
“Linney—”

             
“Just let me finish. I know your mom doesn’t l
ike
Quinn like she loves me. And it’d make your life so much easier if you had someone in it that got along with her, right?
”

             
She’s right. My life would be easier. But would it be better?

             
“
And we’ve known each other forever.
We always got along. The only reason we broke up in the first place is because you moved here. But I can move here. Or wherever you are. I don’t care. Because you’re good for me…and you’re safe…a
nd I miss you.”
             
Her voice changes. Desperation clings to each word.

             
“I can’t just stay here, Linney. I have a life there. I have school. And a job. And an apartment and Quinn. I have
Quinn
there.”

             
“But I need you, Ben. God I need you. The last few days are the safest I’ve felt in months.”

             
I feel like the asshole of the century talking
to her
through a shower curtain, but I don’t know what else to do. I want to be there for Caroline, but I can’t be her savior.
I can’t.
What the fuck did I do? I brought ever
y
bit of this on myself. I thought that coming here would help Caroline, but it’s made things into an even bigger mess, one that I can’t save her from.

             
Quinn was right. Of course she was. Linney wants more, maybe she always will.

             
“You could just stay,” she says. Her voice is small and wounded and I want to pull the shower curtain back and
tell her it’s going to be okay and that things will calm down and work out for her. That I’m sorry that I can’t be the one to do it for her. B
ut the reality is, I’m standing her wet and naked and my doing that would straighten any blurry line that I’ve been straddling by being
in Atlanta
in the first place.

             
“I love you, Ben. I never did stop loving you. You know that, I told you last year. And once
upon a time, you loved me, too,
”
she says.

             
I did love her once.And t
he feeling to protect her and be there for her didn’t just disappear, even if it’s wrong.

             
The curtain moves and Linney is there.
And it’s wrong in so many different ways.
She
ignores the stream of water, soaking her clothes and making them stick to her skin in a way that I shouldn’t even be noticing. She
stands on her tip toes and catches my earlobe between her teeth
—
something she knows
I’ve
never
been
able to resist.

             
“Just stay,”
she whispers.

Sixteen

Q
UINN
 

I feel like I’ve been sitting here for hours, but it’s probably been more like twenty minutes. I slide my iPhone out of my pocket and check the time, and to see if Ben has called.
Again.
He hasn’t.
 
 
 
 
 
             
L
A
has a shit ton of traffic, I get it. But I haven’t seen him in a month, we’ve barely talked on the phone
,
and I sort of just had this idea that there would be this cinematic reunion once I got passed the baggage claim.