This Is Not How It Ends(48)

A few months later, Goose would meet a girl.

In a grocery store while his son lay on the floor gasping for air. Three months and a string of lonely days. That’s all the time it took for me to renounce my promise to Philip, to turn a yes into something else.

Ben.

We were on his patio and we’d just shared a kiss.

“It’s okay,” I said it again, convincing myself, convincing him. He was Ben, but he looked totally different from before. He was no longer Philip’s friend. He was the person with whom intimacy had slipped through. The person who had kissed me while I was in love with someone else.

That was how the story began—for Philip, for Ben, for me.

But how would it end?





PART TWO

THE NOW





CHAPTER 21

August 2018

I didn’t sleep that night, not even with my arms around Sunny and his soft fur warming my skin. Denial had become a good friend, and in a town where I didn’t have many, it served me well and kept me safe.

Ben had walked me home; a sliver of moon shone against our backs. Our steps were unhurried, as though we needed to stretch our time together. Every so often a car shot down the highway, and Ben flinched. The silence that followed drew us closer, our collective thoughts merging. Neither of us had talked about the kiss, marveling instead at the stars strewn across the sky like a handful of glitter.

When we’d reached our gate, Sunny ran up ahead. “Are you okay here alone?” he’d asked.

“I’m fine.”

He bent to tie one of his shoes. They were Converse, and he looked a lot younger than he was.

“I’ll set the alarm. Philip will FaceTime me later. Sunny hates everybody, so his howls keep strangers away.”

“I’ll walk you in.” He straightened, while a pulsing tension followed us to the door.

At the steps, I thanked him for the delicious meal, my insides a jumble of knots. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be any good at this cooking thing, but I enjoyed it.” His quiet moved me, and I wondered if he was going to try it again, to kiss me, there on Philip’s and my doorstep.

“Good night, Charlotte.”

Without warning, my arms came around him, a pull I couldn’t fight. He stood there, motionless, until his head dropped on my shoulder. I’d begun to recognize his smell—a clean, masculine scent mixed with the aromas of the kitchen.

“I wish there was a way to take the pain away.”

There comes that moment when you’re holding someone and the pieces of you just fit. Words are useless. The parts of you string together—souls touch through gentle fabric—and when you separate, you both know there’s a lingering strand that forever connects. We broke apart, and I hid from his lips, the ones that had covered mine, soft, yet fueled with desire. If we stood there any longer, I’d reach for them again.

He pressed a finger under my chin and lifted my eyes up to meet his. “You’d better go inside.”

It took all my strength to walk away. When I closed the door behind me, the empty house was quieter than before. In the early days, Philip’s absence had buoyed me in some way, but now it was a threat, inflicting damage. His call came later that night, and I refused to FaceTime, opting for an old-fashioned conversation, the kind we’d had when we’d first fallen in love. I closed my eyes and returned to that previous time. Holding the phone close to my ear, I could hide the part of me I didn’t want him to see.

“Philip . . .”

“Charley. What’s the matter, darling?”

It was best to dive right in. “Do you want kids?”

He didn’t immediately respond. “Eventually.” Pause. “Now’s not the right time. What’s this about?”

“Us.”

“You’re not happy,” he said.

“I’m not unhappy.” Then I changed my mind. “I’m scared. I’m scared we want different things . . . that maybe I need more than I thought I did. I’m scared you’re not all in.”

“Darling, I may not be there, but I’m all in. You have to trust that. You have to trust us.”

“There are things you need to know about me, things I need to know about you.”

“Green. Grilled fish. Eight.” He chuckled when he rattled off his list, though I didn’t find it amusing.

“You used to laugh more, Charley.”

“You used to be funnier, Philip.”

“I’m sorry. Talk to me.”

Then I felt stupid for asking. For not trusting our love. For wanting Philip to be someone he wasn’t. He continued talking loudly, lovingly, drowning out the memory of a forbidden kiss, a meeting of lonely souls. I loved Philip. He loved me. The kiss was a mere blip. Philip and I would be fine.





CHAPTER 22

September 2018

Ben.

He sat in the waiting room while Jimmy finished another treatment, and we avoided each other—what people do who find themselves feeling what they know is wrong. Liberty had cured my almond allergy, but I was beginning to see an emergence of other pesky sensitivities. If NAET worked on obscure allergens like jet fuel and saliva, perhaps it would treat my reaction to Ben’s voice. His hollowed eyes. The sadness in his cheeks. Ben was a trigger I needed to eradicate.