The End of All Things Beautiful (19 page)

“You ready for bed?” Benji asks, as I lean against the back of
the chair, my body tired.

I nod, my eyes closing with exhaustion and that’s when I feel
his arms slip around my waist.

“Come on,” he says with his mouth against my neck, his words
sending shivers up my spine. The sound of his voice is like the warmth of a
sunny day, comforting and peaceful as his breath tickles my skin. “Let me put
you to bed, my beautiful girl.”

I can never say no to him and in this case, why would I.

I love waking up to Benji. His deliciously warm body is wrapped
around mine, and I fit perfectly against his chest. I don’t want him to leave,
but I know it’s inevitable. After we’ve sorted everything out, we both have to
return to our normal lives, at least for the time being.

We haven’t had a free moment to talk about what happens after
everything. I told him I didn’t want to be without him and I know he feels the
same, but nothing has been discussed. Prior to him finding Tommy’s letter, I
was moving there; I was going to live with him and we were going to be happy. I
don’t doubt that we can have what we want; I just wonder if we’re being realistic.
How soon can we conceivably put this plan in motion?

I have my job here and while I’m perfectly okay with leaving it,
I can’t just leave Jack without anyone to take my place. Especially after
everything he’s done for me. He gave me a job without thinking twice, and while
I excelled at it, I would never have had the financial stability I have now if
it weren’t for Jack. And I realize now that as much as I despise what I do for
a living, I love working for Jack. It has been the only stable thing in my
life. I actually feel like it’s possibly the one thing that saved me all these
years.

I snuggle closer to Benji, my nose pressed into the crook of his
neck as he sleeps soundlessly next to me. I lie here listening to the sound of
his soft, relaxed breaths, his heart beating slowly and calmly under my hand,
and I know I have to make this work. I have to figure out how to spend the
least amount of time without him. I can’t wake up without him next to me every
day.

As I wiggle myself closer to him until I’m practically on top of
him, he stirs in my arms. If I was trying not to wake him up, I failed. I can’t
stop touching him.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his hand brushing the underside of
my breast softly with the tips of his fingers. “I love this,” he adds as he
buries his nose in my hair. “You naked and warm in bed with me.”

His voice changes and I feel his erection press into my hip. I
close my eyes as he rolls his body over onto mine, covering me and placing a
series of soft kisses down my neck. He’s tender as he makes his way down my
body, kissing my neck, my chest, and then gently taking my nipple in his mouth.
I whimper at the sensation and murmur his name as I feel him slide inside me.

His touch, the way he feels inside me, all of it is intense; it
always has been, a rawness and a need to be together that has only increased
with our time apart.

“Campbell,” he whispers, and I moan at the sound of my name on
his lips. I feel his hands run the length of my body, sending a shiver through
me and goose bumps prick my skin. He’s warm, but I shudder beneath him. The
weight of his body now resting against mine calms the overstimulation I’m
feeling.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders as he begins to move, slowly
at first, savoring every second.

“God, Benji,” I moan as I cling to his shoulders, my fingernails
now digging in. He responds to me, moving faster and pulling back so I can see
where our bodies are connected. “Please,” I beg him, and he reaches between us,
his fingers finding me, touching me.

I’m ready and I call out his name again. A loud groan falls from
my lips as I come apart under him, my body shaking as I feel him push his hips
against mine as he comes undone too. Our bodies sweaty and our breathing heavy
as Benji’s head falls against my shoulder and I feel his warm breath caress my
sensitive skin.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

“I want to wake up to you like this every single day,” Benji says,
quiet and sated as we’re lying together.
 
I can’t believe how much we’ve changed,
how much all of this has changed our lives. Not just the accident, but more
than that, how finding each other again has made us both happier than I could’ve
ever imagined. I never thought I deserved this and maybe I still don’t.

“I was just thinking about that,” I say, but I stop, wondering
just how we can possibly make this work. Benji seems so certain and I hate that
I doubt it at all. “Benji,” I start, but he stops me.

“Campbell, stop. You’re stressing over this and I get it. But we
deserve to be happy. We’ve spent too much time apart to question any of it.” He
lets out a sigh. “I need you, Campbell.”

“And I need you too,” I answer back and I do, but I can’t stop
the feeling of uncertainty that continually returns. “But I have a house to
sell, a job to leave and what if…” I can’t finish my last thought because it’s
honestly what I’m the most worried about. The one thing that keeps me from just
saying fuck it all and moving in with Benji.

“What is it, baby?” he says, running his fingers up and down my
back. “Just tell me. No secrets.”

I take a deep breath and spit it out because I know if I don’t,
it’ll eat at me, make me worry and stress. “What if it doesn’t work? What if
you don’t want me there?”

Benji laughs out loud and I slap him on the chest. Pushing him
away, he laughs again and pulls me back. “Don’t make fun of me,” I say,
feigning insult at his reaction. “I’m serious.”

He takes my face in his hands, so I’m looking at him, so I can
see all the want and need in his eyes. So I can see that he wants this as much
as I do and that there isn’t a doubt in his mind that we can make this work.

“Campbell, I’ll always want you. I’ve spent the last nine years
of my life missing you and that’s not going to change. We were meant to be
together and if all of this isn’t enough of a sign, then every day I’ll show
you how much I need you, how much I want you and how this is the way our life
is supposed to be.”

I melt against him, my head on his chest, knowing I feel
everything he feels and that his words can instantly right everything that is
fucking with my head.

“Okay,” I murmur as I kiss his chest. “I want this. I want
everything with you, Benji.”

We spend the next hour getting ready and when I emerge from the
bathroom, Benji has a cup of coffee waiting for me. He’s sitting on the couch, his
leg crossed and his ankle resting on the knee of his well-worn jeans, still all
scruffy and unshaven, but somehow so gorgeous. His dark hair coupled with his
blue eyes makes my heart skip a beat with just a quick glance and I smile at
him.

“Thank you,” I say, picking up the mug and sitting down next to
him.

“So what’s the plan for today?” he asks, since last night we
both just fell into bed not even taking a moment to discuss what we planned for
today. We talked about it briefly since plotting how we were going handle
everything, but we never went into detail.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” I say, but I was never
keeping this from him. Our days have been so busy; it slipped my mind and didn’t
return until we made a basic plan for today.

“Really?” Benji says, his eyebrows going up a little. “What’s
that?” For once neither of us seems nervous or standoffish, not worried anymore
about what secrets live hidden inside us.

“Tommy was married and he has a kid.”

“Oh,” is all Benji says, and I can see he’s trying to process
how this affects everything up until this point and after.

“She’s the one who delivered my letter. Her name is Samantha and
she has no idea what happened, but I think we owe her an explanation too. I
think she deserves to know why her husband did what he did. Why he struggled
all those years.”

Benji nods a little and I get it, it’s hard to take in. Knowing
that what we did has now affected not just our lives but also all the people
surrounding us. That it continued on long after we all separated, leaving many
people in the dark.

“She hates me,” I say suddenly, trying to smile through the
thought, but it still hurts. I don’t want her to hate me, but I understand why.
I’m not sure I can ever make things right.
 

“I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t know what
happened, so I guess we’ll add her to our list,” he says with a questioning
tone to his voice.

“I think we should.”

Benji nods again and we both take our coffee with us, heading
down to the car prepared to continue with what we started just yesterday. It
feels like months, years even that we’ve been trying to correct everything, yet
it’s only been one day. The past weighing heavy on both of us, but knowing with
each step we take forward, we heal.

As Benji starts my car, he turns to look at me with a cheeky
smile on his face. “I think you’re gonna need to get rid of this car, too.”

“What?” I ask, appalled because I love my little coupe.

“This little thing is just not gonna cut it in those Northern
Michigan winters.” He shrugs his shoulders as if it’s inevitable.

“Fine,” I concede immediately, knowing he’s right. I barely made
it out of his driveway the last time I was there. “But I’ll need a cute SUV
now.”

“Of course,” he responds. “This isn’t anything about safety. It’s
all about you looking cute.”

We head out for another long day, since we have planned to
travel to the cemeteries where Sam, Kelly and Tommy are buried, none of which
are in close proximity to each other. Sam and Kelly are buried near the suburb
where we grew up, but on opposite ends and Tommy about hour west of it all.

As we drive, I tell Benji about Samantha showing up at my office
and how she believes that I’m the reason he killed himself. The guilt pools
heavy in my stomach as I say the words, sometimes believing them. I shift in my
seat, my hands beginning to shake. I hate that she’s hurting over all of this
and sees it as my fault.

“She’s trying to process it all, Campbell,” Benji says
reassuringly. “She needs someone to blame. You have to understand that. Even if
the only person she has to blame is Tommy. She can’t do that. She loved him.”

“I know. I just…” I trail off unable to finish my thought
because I’m not even sure what to think. I just know I don’t want her carrying
around all the guilt and hatred and grief I know she’s feeling.

He takes my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it softly. I’m
relieved that he’s here with me, that I no longer have to go this alone, and
that I don’t have to hide everything I’m feeling. Release is good.

“I’m not sure she’ll even speak to me again,” I say, after
explaining how I went to Tommy’s house trying to find answers.

“She will. Just give her time. I think it’s different now. We
have answers for her. We can give her a reason. It may never be enough for her,
but we can try,” Benji says, somehow remaining completely calm throughout this
discussion.

“Thank you,” I whisper, never more grateful to have him back in
my life than I am right now. He seems to understand everything without me ever
having to explain it.

The car falls silent, but nothing about it is uncomfortable.
There’s a lot to be said for silence and sometimes it can be the loudest thing
in the room, screaming at you, begging you to break it, but other times it
draws people closer together. It says that they can be together, comforted and
soothed by the lack of words being spoken.

Quiet is peace. It’s tranquility. It’s healing.

And as we pull into the parking lot of the cemetery where Sam is
buried, silence is the one thing we both need right now.

I can’t leave the car and as if Benji can sense my unease, he
takes my hand in his, but still says nothing. We sit together and I wonder if
his thoughts are the same as mine. I wonder if he’s thinking of Sam. For once,
I’m not picturing Sam dead, instead I’m picturing him alive. I need to remember
him for all the happiness he brought into my life and not the sadness that I
was left with.

Benji lets go of my hand, his fingers brushing my cheek,
bringing my attention to him. When our eyes connect, his are filled with tears
and it’s all I need before I start crying.

“You ready, Cam?” he asks, and my heart stops in my chest.

For once, I love the sound of that name.

It makes me remember.

It makes me remember how much I loved Sam.

We’re standing together looking down at Sam’s grave and I’m not
sure what I expected to feel or what I’m supposed to do. There’s no natural
reaction to seeing your friend’s name on a grave marker; the date there in
front of you, so final and definitive. And to know you had a part in why he’s
here makes it hard to find the feelings to help cope with that.

This obviously isn’t the first time we’ve been here, but the
last time, for the funeral, was one of those moments when I was barely
functioning. I think there was a point when I tried to shut it all out,
thinking he wasn’t dead or that I was living a nightmare that wouldn’t allow me
to wake up. But in the end, it was a nightmare, but it all came true.

I take Benji’s hand and look around. We’re surrounded by death,
yet neither of us speaks of it. It’s too painful, too real, too raw and in this
case it’s far too close. There’s really nothing to say and as unnatural and
unfair as it is, Sam’s death was a part of life.

I do often think about the sequence of events and how just one
small change to it all would have left us in a different situation. Had I just
stalled when getting into the car or if I had passed out on the beach or gotten
sick before getting in the car, we would’ve left the beach later than we did.

All it takes is one second, one minute, one flash of difference
to change everything. And even worse, are the series of events that are created
by that one incident. Had Sam not drove that day that family would still be
alive, had one of us wasted more time before we left, Sam wouldn’t be dead and
there wouldn’t be all the tragedy that followed it. Kelly and Tommy’s suicides,
Benji and I living apart, miserable and devastated; it was all caused by one
thing, one simple thing that could’ve been avoided. But it’s too late for that
now and today isn’t about dwelling on the past and what we could’ve done
differently. It’s about moving on and finding a way to live with what we did.

We don’t come bearing flowers or words to ease our suffering.
Sam is dead and nothing we do or say can change that. But as we stand over his
grave, our eyes filled with tears, we realize all we can do is let his memory
live on. It’s time to stop trying to forget; we need to remember. We need to
focus on the positive and all the things we have, instead of everything we don’t.

I watch Benji mouth a silent goodbye to Sam before both of us
brush the grave marker with our hand as we walk away. This will probably be the
last time we’re here and not because we’re insensitive or we don’t care
anymore, it’s because we both know that this is the end for us. While we’ll
never forget Sam, we need to move on with our lives.

It takes thirty minutes to get to the cemetery where Kelly is
buried and Benji jokes about how everywhere in this damn suburb takes thirty
minutes. From one end to the other, and while only a short distance, the
traffic is ridiculous so it still takes a half an hour.

Benji and I haven’t been back to where we grew up in years. Both
of us choosing to leave and never really having a reason to return. My parents
moved to Florida shortly after I graduated from college and Benji’s mom, as far
as he knows, no longer lives here either.

It’s strange the way the town still looks the same, despite the
fact that neither of us have been back here. I feel like I’ve avoided it all
this time, because I worried about the painful memories it might bring with it.
The funny thing is, while I’m flooded with memories, none of them are painful.
I cry, but it’s more about the fact that I’ll never be able to share everything
I’m thinking with some of the people who helped me create all the things I’m
inundated with.

We exit the car much quicker this time, like after the first
goodbye, we’ve found the courage and strength to see this through to the end.

Benji takes my hand in his and using the map we printed before
we left, we find Kelly’s grave quickly. It’s begun to drizzle and the air is
cold. Our breath is coming out in small white puffs as we once again stand
silently looking down at where Kelly is buried.

This isn’t as hard for me as I thought. The first time, I never
grieved her loss. I was too lost in a hazy mess of guilt and regret to even
think about what she had done. But a part of me always understood what she did
and why she did it. As selfish as it was, I knew she couldn’t live without Sam.
I understood and I often found myself wondering if I would’ve done the same thing
had it been Benji who died instead.

I spent nine brutal years living without him and while it was
trying and exhausting and at times I did want to give up, I still had the
knowledge that he was alive. I found a small amount of comfort in that. Kelly
never had that reassurance. But she did have Tommy and what all of this has
shown me is that part of a whole is never enough. It will never be complete.

I wrap my arms around Benji’s waist, now shivering from the cold
air mixed with the dampness of the rain and he covers me with his body. I feel
him kiss the top of my head, his chin resting there as he begins to softly sing
Dear Prudence
and tears flood my
eyes. It was Kelly’s favorite song and something Benji learned to play on his
guitar so she could hear it whenever she wanted.

It’s the little things that mean so much. The things that remind
me what we all had, a deep, undying love for each other, and nothing will ever change
that.

The day carries on pretty much the same way it began. We’re in
the car together, quiet and sullen as the rain begins to pick up. It’s falling
hard and fast, reminding me of the day Tommy was laid to rest.

“I went to his funeral,” I tell Benji without looking over at
him. “And sat alone at his burial,” I add, and Benji turns to look at me.

“Oh, Campbell,” he says, quietly, almost pitifully. I didn’t say
it so he’d feel sorry for me. I want him to know, because throughout all of
this, I never wanted to be viewed as heartless.

After Samantha came to my office, I felt like I failed Tommy,
like I should’ve tried harder, which is part of the reason I sought Benji out.
I couldn’t lose someone else I loved.

“It’s okay,” I respond, feeling his hand brush my arm in
sympathy. “I needed to be there, even if I was alone.”

“I went to see his grave after I got his letter and before I
came to find you,” Benji admits, and this time it’s me who reaches over and
rests my hand on his arm.

“You didn’t have to go alone.”

“I know, but I did. I needed to grieve on my own.” He stops and
looks over at me as if he’s said something that might have possibly insulted
me. But I understand. There are times you just need to be alone. “I guess in a
way I needed to see that he was really dead.” He shakes his head at the words
he’s just spoken out loud as if he’s questioning himself. “As horrible as that
sounds,” Benji adds, as if he needs to explain himself.

“That’s the same reason I went to the funeral. I felt like it
couldn’t be real.”

“None of it feels real,” Benji says dryly. “It’s been nine
fucking years and it still feels like a dream.”

“A nightmare,” I add, and Benji nods.

We cry more at Tommy’s grave than we did at the others and I
wonder why that is. Did we have more time to process the death of Sam and
Kelly, more time to live with the regret of what could’ve been? With Tommy it
was unexpected, coming later in the game, like a sucker punch to the stomach.
By then, in theory we all should’ve been fine. But what each of us realized is
that the more time that went by, the worse the guilt became. The worse the loss
was and the worse each of us felt.

Although we’ll never know why Tommy did what he did, we both
know he always felt lost without Kelly and as much as it bothered him to share
her with Sam, I think he also felt the loss of Sam, too. It had to have begun
to weigh on him the way everything began to weigh on Benji and me and after
what Benji shared with me about the accident, I imagine it all became too much.

Where or when was his breaking point? When did he finally give
up and say ‘fuck it all’? I wonder if it was one final thing that made Tommy
end his life and I can’t help but think about how close I possibly was too. His
letter came at a time when I needed it more than anything.

While his death, like Kelly’s was completely selfish, in a way
it saved me and for that I will always be grateful.

And for the last time today and hopefully for a long time to
come, we leave the cemetery. Our goodbyes stuck in our throats, floating around
in our heads and left unspoken because we know soon we’ll be visiting Samantha
and Thomas. Hopefully our goodbye will come in the form of forgiveness and
understanding.

We arrive home and Benji slings his arm over my shoulder as we’re
walking in the house. “Let’s get something to eat,” he says, and I can hear the
exhaustion in his voice. “Something good. Something you love.”

“Do you remember what that is?” I ask, raising my eyebrows at
him, secretly hoping he remembers but also hoping he doesn’t, so I can give him
shit for it.

“Portillo’s hot dog with ketchup and relish only, cheese fries
and a piece of chocolate cake,” he says firmly, and then slides his hand down
my back and gives me a swat on the butt before saying, “Take that.” He’s far
too impressed with his ability to remember and it makes me laugh.

“Nice job,” I congratulate, and now it’s him laughing.

“I can’t believe I’m about to indulge you like this when I
should be shaming you. A ketchup and relish hot dog? Who lives in Chicago and
eats that?”

“Me, and you love it.”

“I do, because I love you,” Benji says, and it doesn’t matter
how many times he says it, I still feel like I’m melting.

We place the order and as Benji leaves to pick it up, he rolls
his eyes dramatically and says, “Traffic is going to be horrendous and all this
just for a hot dog.”

“But it’s for me,” I reply sweetly, fluttering my eyelashes as
Benji shakes his head.

“I’ve never been able to say no to you,” he responds, and I
couldn’t agree more. He’s the one person in the world I’ll never say no to
either.

After Benji returns with the food and we’re sitting on the couch
eating, we begin to talk about what the plan is for tomorrow. It will be the
first day we won’t be together since he came back, and a part of me is already
having a hard time with that.

Jack and I are heading to Florida to talk with our parents about
the accident and everything that happened. We’ll be gone for two days and when
I called my mom to tell her we were coming, she didn’t seem too surprised nor
did she question me. Her laid back attitude toward everything really coming
through, because I think most parents would wonder why their adult children are
boarding a plane on a whim to visit them. Yet I was relieved she didn’t ask any
questions, because I’m not sure how I would’ve answered them. There is just too
much going on to explain in a phone call.

During all of this, we both decided it would be best if we met
with our parents separately, and not because we have anything to hide, but
because Benji has more than just the accident he needs to address with his mom.
I wasn’t the only one he stopped talking to after the accident, he left her in
the dark too.

I can tell the whole thing worries him, but it’s something we
need to do. The difference is that I have Jack to go with me. Benji is an only
child and I think that’s what’s bothering him more than anything. He just left
his mom, making her wonder about what happened to him, and I’m sure concerned for
his safety, too. He didn’t have any other connection to his family, maybe if he
had, he wouldn’t have disappeared the way he did.

Things were harder for him after his parents divorced and even
harder after his dad started dating again and pretty much severed ties with
Benji. His mom tried her best to make up for it, but I know he was hurt by it
all. I can tell he harbors a lot of guilt for leaving her the way his father
did and I know he feels like he needs to explain himself.

I’ve told him multiple times that I’ll go with him, but he
declines. He tells me it’s something he needs to do on his own. I have to
respect that.

When we’re finally in bed, Benji’s arms cradling my body, he
says, “I’m going to miss you.”

I’m sure most people would find that comment ridiculous. It’s
only two days, but when you’ve lived through what we have, you know two days
can be an eternity; two days can change your life. Actually all it takes is a
few short minutes.

“I’ll miss you too,” I tell him, pressing my lips to his chest
and leaving them there. I take a breath and his smell hits me. He smells like
Benji. He smells like safety and home.

And I know not a day will go by that I won’t find myself missing
him at one point or another. He’s the reason I breathe, the reason I can forgive
myself, but he’s also the reason my heart no longer aches.

We were always meant to be together.

Our bond is as old as we are.