The End of All Things Beautiful (25 page)

I
can’t believe this is my life. That after everything we’ve been through, we
still have each other, we will still have a life together.

“Are
you hungry now?” I ask, as Benji rolls off of me and lets out a low groan. He’s
lying on his side, his hand resting on my stomach.

“I
am,” he says smiling as he traces a circle around my bellybutton. “But I have
something to talk to you about.”

His
smile has dropped from his face and his brow is furrowed. I can feel my heart
rate increase instantly and now I’m worried about what he has to say. I thought
most of our problems were past us, but clearly something has been left out. I
look away from him; scared my face will give away everything I’m feeling.

“Okay,”
I answer, as he places his hand on my cheek, his finger brushing lightly.

“Look
at me,” Benji says, drawing me back to him. “I need to tell Alex and Annie what
happened.”

I
can feel my body stiffen almost immediately at his words and I adamantly shake
my head.

“No,”
I respond without giving it any thought. “We agreed that it was on a need to
know basis. Our families and Samantha being the only people fully involved in
this. No, Benji. No.”

“Campbell,
you have to understand, they’ve been with me basically since the accident. My
behavior, your behavior, none of it makes sense to them if we don’t tell them
what happened.”

I
roll away from him and climb out of the bed. Gathering my clothes from the
floor, I enter the bathroom and close the door. I can hear the sheets rustling
and Benji sighs loudly before he knocks on the door.

“Campbell,
please hear me out. I don’t want this to be an argument especially on our first
night together.” I hear his head fall against the bathroom door. I know I’m
being childish, but he doesn’t understand.

“These
are your friends, not mine,” I say through the closed door.

There
is judgment and ridicule that comes with telling people. They’re not always as
forgiving and as understanding as the people in our life have been so far. What
if this ruins Benji’s friendship with them? What if they hate me for running
away from him all those years ago? Worse, what if it gets out and people find
out what Benji has done? It could ruin his reputation in this town, his
business could suffer, and the repercussions could be more than either of us
are willing to deal with. It isn’t just about clearing the air and helping Alex
and Annie understand, it’s about our lives, which are finally returning to
normal. I’d hate to think what could happen.

“It
scares me,” I add quietly as I reach for the doorknob, finally admitting what
this is really about. It isn’t about keeping the secret from them, it’s about
what could happen if we tell them, and not just with Alex and Annie, but with
everyone we’ve told.

“They’re
your friends now too. Please open the door,” Benji asks again, and I open it to
his sad, pleading eyes. Without stopping to think about it at all, he takes me
in his arms, hugging me fiercely as he buries his face in my hair. “I don’t
want to argue with you, but we need to tell them. Please understand that. I know
you’re worried, but they’re our friends, they’ll understand. We owe them an
explanation.”

I
nod my head. I do understand, but the worry consumes me. “Not now. Can you give
it some time, please?” I ask. It all seems so sudden and overwhelming. I was
finally starting to calm down and I really don’t want to start over again.

“Whatever
you need,” Benji says, and now I feel selfish for even asking.

Maybe
he’s right.

Benji
is gone when I wake up. That boy wakes up far earlier than I’m used to. I was
still burrowed in the duvet when he kissed me goodbye and told me he was
heading to the shop to get an early start.

It’s
not late by any means and I’m hoping when he gets used to me living here, he’ll
start sleeping in or at least sticking around for a morning quickie.

I
head downstairs just as the sun is beginning to rise, casting its glow through
the floor to ceiling windows and illuminating the beautiful craftsmanship of
the house. I grab a cup of coffee and take it up to what will now be my office.

It’s
a beautiful room overlooking the small pond on the property. I have a feeling
the scenery will prove to be a huge distraction. In Chicago my office looked out
onto the building next door, a steel and glass building with little appeal.
Actually I was quite lucky I even had a window, so this is a huge change.

Before
I arrived, Benji had outfitted the room with the most amazing furniture and not
just because it was designed and built by him, but because it somehow fits me
perfectly. I couldn’t have picked better furniture and I sometimes wonder if
he’d made it specifically for me.

The
desk is an a-frame made from reclaimed wood that’s worn and distressed giving
it a beautiful aged look. Next to it stands a matching bookshelf and armoire,
both are mostly empty, but Benji did attempt to unpack some things in my
absence.

I
laugh as I think about it. I got a text from him with pictures of books and
files asking where I wanted him to put them and after the third text, I told
him to just leave it. I know he was just trying to be helpful, but I could tell
he was annoyed with my responses, which were too specific.

I
flop down into the desk chair, spinning it around as I take it all in. The
beautiful view, the custom made furniture, all in this perfect house, in the perfect
room with everything I ever dreamed about all sitting right in front of me.

I
thought my dreams were lost right along with Sam, Kelly and Tommy. Ripped out
from under me and shattered. I never thought I’d be happy again, that I’d find
Benji and we’d be living the life we talked about all those years we spent
together.

But
here I am, smiling and laughing, waking up to a life that has become mine. Up
until this moment, my life hasn’t felt complete; it hasn’t felt whole. I will
always miss the people I’ve lost, my heart will always ache just a little, but
when I found Benji again, it all began to heal.

I’ve
been at it for several hours when I hear Benji come in through the front door. He’s
not done working. He’d have parked in the garage and come in through the door
that connects to the house if he were. It’s still too early in the day and I
wonder if he’ll keep the same hours he did before I moved in with him.

“I’m
upstairs!” I yell. “In my beautiful office.” I giggle, still in shock that this
is all mine. Even the beautiful boy downstairs.

“You
hungry?” Benji asks. “I brought food.”

“I’m
always hungry.”

Benji
is sitting at the bar top on the island with a few slices of pizza on a plate
in front of him.

“Pizza?”
I question. I know I’ve only been here for a day, but when I spent those few
days here with him before there wasn’t a pizza place in sight.

“The
gas station recently started selling pizza,” Benji answers, shrugging his
shoulders as if he didn’t just buy our lunch from a gas station.

“You
bought pizza…from a gas station?”

“I
did. Beggars can’t be choosers. Just eat it. Even bad pizza is good. It’s
pizza.”

“Baby,”
I say, laying on the sympathy. “How did you survive this long without me?”

“I
ate a lot of frozen pizza.”

“What
am I going to do with you?”

“Love
me?” he suggests, and I laugh. I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember.

As
we eat, we chat mindlessly about what I’ve gotten done so far and what Benji’s
been working on. He’s been playing catch-up since spending so much time with me
in Chicago. A lot of orders came in while he was gone and he has a few custom
orders to work on. Despite the fact that I’ll still be working, I know it means
a lot to Benji to be able to take care of me, so I’m glad his business has been
extremely successful.

“I
have to ship today,” he says, actually sounding annoyed by the fact that he has
to drive into Canada. “I have this huge dining table that was supposed to go
out a few days ago. I had the UPS pick up scheduled and had to cancel it.” He
looks over at me and gives me a shy smile. “I had to cancel it to apologize to
my girl.”

“Sorry,”
I answer back, still feeling bad about keeping Tommy’s death a secret from him.
We both owed each other apologies and even though it’s past us, I still
struggle with the way it all went down.

“No
more,” Benji says, shaking his head as he leans over and kisses me. “We’re over
this, remember?” I nod, attempting to convince myself as I slide over and rest
my head against Benji’s shoulder. He kisses my hair softly before he adds, “It’ll
take time, baby, but please know I’m not angry with you about what happened
between us after the accident. I never was.”

“I
know, thank you. I hope you know I feel the same way.”

“Of
course I know,” he responds, his fingers under my chin as he lifts my head and
kisses me again. Smiling now, he asks, “You wanna come with me?”

“Up
to Canada?” I ask, and Benji nods as he takes another bite of his pizza. “You
know I’d love to, but I really should stay here and get things situated.”

“You’re
breaking my heart,” Benji complains jokingly, and I giggle.

“Silly
boy, I have a job, remember? Without an office, I can’t work.”

By
now Benji has finished eating and is cleaning up; each time he walks by me, he
brushes against me or stops to kiss my neck. He’s making it incredibly
difficult to say no to him. He’s always been my biggest weakness, my most
wonderful flaw, the best thing in my life and nothing has changed. I want to go
with him, honestly. I want to be near him always, but that’s unrealistic.

“You
never have to work,” Benji replies, a seriousness to his tone.

“I
know that, but I want to work.”

Maybe
there will come a time when I’m okay with relying on Benji for financial
support; after we get married or have kids, but until then, I’d like to
contribute.

Benji
smiles at me and I know he understands my need to work. He’s never been one to
demand things of me and I find it calming that nothing has changed.

I
finish eating as Benji sticks the leftover pizza in the refrigerator and
readies himself to go back to work.

I
watch him pull on his boots, every muscle in his body flexing with his
movements. He’s beautiful and perfect and there’s nothing about him that I
don’t love. Just watching him makes me question my decision to stay home and
unpack.

“Don’t
think I don’t see you checking me out,” he says, winking at me from across the
room.

I
roll my eyes at him as I walk over and swat him on the ass. “Get back to work.
You’re far too distracting,” I chide dramatically, and suddenly I find myself
pinned against the front door, Benji’s hips pressing against mine, my arms
above my head, and his hand locked around my wrist.

When
his free hand slides up my shirt and cups my breast, my head falls back and my
eyes close. I can feel him trail his warm mouth along my jaw and across my
neck, his hot breath igniting my skin until I want to beg him to kiss me, touch
me, take me, and then he whispers, “I’ll show you how distracting I can be.”

My
body is flush against his and the heat between us feels like hot sparks
touching every part of me and just when I think I can’t bear to be this close
to him without my hands on his body, he lets go of my wrists.

I
immediately slide my hands under his shirt, letting them trail down his firm
chest until they reach the waistband of his jeans. I slip my fingers under, but
never going any farther as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me
fiercely. It makes me weak, my knees practically shaking with an overwhelming
need for him.

I
moan into Benji’s mouth and I feel him smile as he pulls away. His forehead now
resting against mine, a cheeky grin on his face as he says, “I have to get back
to work, but we’ll be finishing this later.”

“God,
I fucking hope so,” I mutter back, still disoriented from his blatant attempt
to distract me but not follow through.

Benji
kisses me again, but this time it’s soft and sweet. My body responds and I sink
into his arms, once again finding it difficult not to go with him.

“I’ll
see you in a few hours,” Benji says, stepping away from me as he puts on his
coat and a flash of guilt forces itself in. I want to go with him, but I can’t.
We can’t spend every second of our lives together. But before I know it, the
guilt is replaced with worry and panic about him driving up to Canada alone.

It’s
snowy and the roads are not always clear. They can be slick and at times unsafe
for driving. Yet for some reason I can’t make myself voice my concerns. Like if
I don’t say it out loud, if I don’t talk about it, nothing bad can possibly
happen.

I
turn away from Benji, I can’t let him see the worry that has taken over. He’ll
recognize it straightaway and the last thing I want is him stressing over all
my insecurities. Nothing is going to happen to us.

I
thought the same thing nine years ago.

My
stomach churns and my chest tightens. I take a deep breath. It’s nothing.

“I’ll
see you later,” I tell Benji, a fake smile on my face as I turn to look at him.
“I’ll just be here unpacking and bored.” The more I talk, the more natural it
feels. That’s exactly what I’ll be doing. This is normal.

We’re
normal.

“Baby,”
Benji says, and just when I think he’s going to ask me if everything’s okay, if
I’m okay, he says, “Can you take some time and think about what we talked about
last night? About telling Alex and Annie?”

I
nod my head in response. It’s still something I’m not fully comfortable with,
but I don’t want it to lead to an argument again and it’s not like I completely
disagree with his reasoning for telling them, I just have my reservations. “I
will,” I finally respond, and Benji smiles at me.

“I
love you, Campbell.”

“I
love you too.”

As
boring as it is to unpack all these boxes, I’m finding it keeps me busy. I know
the movers are coming this weekend with the rest of my things, so it’ll be nice
to have all of this sorted before they arrive.

My
office is now set up. All my files stored and labeled, along with my desk
ready. I could actually start working now if I wanted, but I’d rather knock out
the rest of the unpacking and have the evening to relax with Benji.

I
move on to the closet and by the time I’m finished I realize I’ve been at this
for several hours. Night has taken over, the sky dark, and when I look at the
clock, it’s well after seven. Benji has been gone far longer than I would’ve
thought.

I
look for my phone, realizing it must still be in my office, so I go hunting for
it. Finding it on my desk, I see I have a missed text from Benji.

Benji: Running a little behind. Should be
home in an hour.

I
breathe a sigh of relief until I notice the text is time stamped at a quarter after
four. It’s well beyond an hour late.

I
can feel myself begin to panic. My heart is racing, my palms growing sweaty as
I grip my phone in my hand. I can’t jump to conclusions; I can’t let my
irrational side take over, so I call Benji before this gets out of hand.

Straight
to voicemail.

By
the third call, each one with the same response, I’m well past the panic stage
and I don’t even know what to do.

I
feel sick to my stomach, yet I’m angry. I want to cry, but then I want to tell
myself I’m being stupid.

It
can’t happen again.

It
won’t happen again.

But
even my own words are lost.

I’m
standing in the kitchen with my car keys in my hand, not certain about what I’m
thinking or what I plan on doing, but knowing I can’t stand here and wait.

The
front door opens and just the sound has me running toward it, I don’t even
notice it isn’t Benji that comes through it.

It’s
Annie.

“Where’s
Benji?” I almost scream at her, my words unusually loud in the quiet of the
house.

“Campbell,”
she says, sensing my panic, not that it’s hard to miss, but her soothing tone
does nothing to calm me. “Benji’s truck slid off the road…”

I
don’t hear anything else as I shove past her, nearly knocking her over. If she
were still talking I wouldn’t know it, because I’m already outside. My keys in
my hand, but my feet only covered in socks as I run across the icy and snowy
driveway to my car.