November 9: A Novel(54)
Ben reaches his hand across the table and squeezes mine, and my chest heats up from the small gesture. “It’s really good to see you, Fallon,” he says, brushing his thumb over mine. “Really good.”
The sincerity in his eyes makes me want to lunge across this table and kiss him right here. He doesn’t hate me. He isn’t mad at me. I feel like I just took my first breath of pure air in a year.
I flip my hand over to hold his, but as soon as I do, he pulls away to push Oliver’s snacks closer to him. “I’m sorry I had to bring him. Jordyn had to work today and the sitter canceled last minute.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. And honestly, it is. I love watching him interact with Oliver. It adds another layer to him that I haven’t witnessed before. “How is Jordyn?”
“Good,” Ben says, nodding like he’s trying to convince himself of this, too. “Really good. She’s such a great mom. Kyle would be proud.” He says the last sentence quieter than the rest. “What about you? How’s New York?”
I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t feel now is the right time to bring it up, so I avoid the question. “This is always so weird,” I say. “Seeing you for the first time in a year. I never know what to say or do.” I’m lying. It’s never been weird before, but thanks to last year, it feels very awkward today.
He reaches across the table and places his hand over my wrist, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m nervous, too,” he says reassuringly. His eyes drop to our hands, and then he pulls his back and clears his throat. It’s cute how he’s trying to be respectful in front of Oliver. “Have you ordered yet?” He picks up the menu and stares at it silently for a moment, but I can tell he isn’t reading it.
He’s more nervous than he should be, but we did leave things off in an awkward place last year. I worry that it isn’t nerves plaguing him, but maybe a little bit of bitterness. I know I hurt him last year, but surely he’s had time to understand why I did what I did. And hopefully he knows that walking away from him when he was in so much pain was probably harder on me than it was on him. I’ve spent the entire last year with a heavy heart because it’s constantly on my mind.
We both order something to eat and he makes sure to add a side of mashed potatoes for Oliver, which I find adorable. I try to alleviate our nerves with small talk. I tell him about how I decided my new goal in life is to open a talent studio. He smiled and said I was no longer, “Fallon the Transient.” I asked him what my new name was and he looked at me thoughtfully and said, “Fallon the Teacher.” And I loved the sound of that.
He said he graduated college this past May and it made me sad that I wasn’t there for that, but I know there will be plenty of milestones in the future. I’ll go to his graduation ceremony when he gets his advanced degree, because he says that’s what he’s working toward now. He got a job doing freelance for an online magazine and decided to further his career with a master’s in technical writing.
During a lull in our conversation, Ben spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into Oliver’s mouth. The baby rubs his eyes and looks as though he’s about to nod off right into his bowl.
“Can he say any words yet?”
Ben smiles down at Oliver, brushing a hand over his tiny head. “A couple. I’m pretty sure he says them by accident, though. He mostly talks gibberish.” Ben laughs and then says, “He did say his first curse word, though. We keep his baby monitor on at night and last week, clear as day, he said the word shit. Little guy is starting early,” he says, pinching Oliver playfully on his cheek. Oliver smiles up at him, and when he does, everything hits me at once.
Ben treats Oliver like a father would treat a son.
Oliver looks at Ben like he’s his dad.
Ben referred to himself and Jordyn as a “we.”
And they keep Oliver’s baby monitor on at night . . . which means . . . they share a bedroom?
I suck in a breath the moment I feel my entire world turn on its axis. I grip the table when the clarity hits.
I feel like such an idiot.
Ben notices the change in my demeanor immediately, and when my eyes lock with his, he begins to slowly shake his head, realizing his slip up. “Fallon,” he says quietly. But he adds no additional words to follow up my name. It’s clear that I know, and he does nothing to dismiss my assumption. He’s drowning in an apologetic look.
Instant jealousy.
Building, raging, insane jealousy. I’m forced to get up from my seat and rush to the bathroom, because I refuse to let him see how much this completely destroyed me in a matter of seconds. He calls after me, but I don’t pause. I’m thankful he brought Oliver with him, because now he can’t run after me.
I rush straight to the sink and I grip the edges of it, staring at myself in the mirror.
Calm down, Fallon. Don’t cry. Save the heartbreak for when you get home.
I’m not prepared for this. I have no idea how to deal with this. It feels like my heart is literally breaking. Cracking right down the middle, bleeding out into my chest, filling my lungs with blood, making it impossible to breathe.
Holding the tears back proves even more difficult when the door to the bathroom opens and shuts. I look up to see Ben standing there, holding Oliver, looking at me with a deep layer of regret.
I close my eyes so I don’t have to see his reflection in the mirror. I drop my head between my shoulders and I just start crying.