The Words We Leave Unspoken(22)

I look at Gwen and ask if she wants me to go with her. She just shrugs and says, “Only if you feel up to it.”

“Of course, I feel up to it. You shouldn’t have to go alone,” I say quietly, leaning closer to her.

“Okay, that would be nice actually. I’ve gotta get these little buggers to school and then I’m driving into the city.”

“How about this… meet me at my place at ten-thirty. It’s on the way and we can drive to the medical center together.”

She nods. “Thank you,” she says after a bloated pause. I watch as she places a lunchbox into Olivia’s pink backpack and zips it closed wondering how long we can keep this from John.

I finish my pancake and the herd exits just as abruptly as it entered, leaving the house eerily quiet. I shower, throw on some yoga clothes and drive through steady traffic back to the city, all the while lost in dangerous thoughts of Gwen, my past with Ben, and all the uncertainty that swarms around me.



Gwen’s knee is bouncing up and down as she thumbs through a celebrity gossip magazine. I look around the waiting room. There are ten or so other people sitting in the same beige leather seats, nervously waiting. Most are women. I note that two women have scarves wrapped around their bald heads, their eyes big and shadowed. It reminds me of Gwen when she was battling cancer before. The bald head, beady eyes underlined with dark circles, rosy cheeks, and that frail, thin look about her. She was so sick. I swallow the lump in my throat and place a firm hand on Gwen’s bouncing knee to reassure her. She looks up from her magazine and I can see the fear in her eyes.

“Talk to me about something, I’m going crazy here,” she whispers.

“Gwen, everything’s going to be okay,” I assure her.

“Just distract me. Tell me about Grey.” She waves her hand through the air, encouraging me to start talking.

And so I ask, “Why didn’t you tell me about Ben?”

She sighs and looks down, smoothing her slacks with her hands.

“Charley...” she hesitates.

“Tell me. Why the lie?”

“I never lied to you. I just didn’t tell you. There’s a difference.”

I look at her, waiting for an explanation, with my arms folded across my chest.

“You have to understand that he’s the best pediatrician in town. Dr. Shultz is old and frankly, gives me the creeps. I was lucky that the kids were accepted by Ben’s practice. He’s totally booked. I mean, not only is he the best but just look at him, every mom in Seaport flocks to him based on his looks alone.”

I hold my hand up. “Okay I didn’t need to hear that.”

“Anyway, I was afraid if I told you he was back, something might happen between you two and, if it went to hell, we could lose our spot. And I was worried about you. He broke your heart. And I feel like you’ve never really gotten over it, even after all these years.”

“Gwen, what are you talking about?”

“Charley, you were devastated when you broke up and he left town. And you haven’t genuinely cared for someone since.”

“Gwen, it’s not what you think.” I frown, remembering it all too well.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

I rest my face in my hands gathering my thoughts and then look up. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this here, right now.” My eyes scan the waiting room.

“You’re helping to distract me, remember. Just tell me.” Gwen bumps her elbow against my arm and tosses her magazine on the table in front of us, where it lands on a pile of other magazines and medical brochures.

I take a deep breath. “Well... I kind of slept with Brody Knight a few weeks before graduation.”

“What the...” she starts to say a little too loudly, before lowering her voice. I glance around the room to find several people looking our way.

“What the hell, Charley?” she says, now more of a whisper.

I shrug, not really wanting to go into the details. But of course Gwen won’t leave it alone.

“Why would you do that? Brody Knight? Seaport’s very own football star? That guy was such a... such an egomaniac,” she scowls.

“I know. It was horrible and I wanted to take it back immediately but of course it was too late.”

Gwen sits forward and turns to look at me, where I’m slouched down in my chair with my arms folded across my chest, feeling a mixture of shame and remorse. It all happened years ago but seeing Ben brought back an arsenal of emotions that I suddenly feel completely defenseless against.

“Wait. Was he your first?” she asks me, her big eyes jutting out of their sockets.

“I just thought... I just thought... I don’t know what I was thinking.” I moan and bury my face in my hands again, leaning forward until my elbows come to rest on my knees.

But deep down I remember exactly what I had been thinking. Ben was leaving. He had been accepted to his dream school on the other side of the country. He was brilliant and he had this incredible plan for his future which all started at Harvard University. We had been inseparable for three years, crazy in love. Both of us virgins, we had been saving ourselves for graduation night, when we would finally have sex for the first time. Ben knew everything about me, and yet he still loved me anyway. He was the only one who really seemed to get me, the real me. He assured me that I was part of his plan. That the distance would not come between us. He argued that four years was nothing in the grand scheme of things, in comparison to the rest of our lives. I knew better. I wanted to believe in him, in us. But even at eighteen I was no naive little girl. The idea of not being with him made my chest hurt, and caused real, physical pain. It was as if I needed him to breathe. The notion that I had let myself depend on someone so much that life without them seemed unbearable was a terrifying realization. Ben was leaving me and there was nothing I could do to change that. I remember desperately wanting to end things with him on my own terms, to have some semblance of control over the situation. I pleaded with him, throwing out every reason in the book why we should break up; he was leaving and we should end it now, that long distance relationships never worked out. But he wouldn’t listen, refused to let me push him away. But that was exactly what I did when he found me in the backseat of Brody Knight’s car with my skirt pushed up around my waist just weeks before graduation. Sealing our fate. Ben had accepted early admission the following week and left the day after graduation. I stayed behind and attended community college in Seattle that fall, with a shattered heart, never hearing from him again.