Bennett (On the Line Book 2)(39)

“Yeah. I’ll keep it short and sweet. My Facebook page has more than a hundred new friend requests, too.”

“Wow.”

“I’d post a pic of me and you if you’d let me.”

“Ha. What a way for Liam to find out.”

He gave me a serious look. “We need to make it happen. I want to be with you when I’m home. I also hate him thinking I’m some douche who ditched you.”

“He doesn’t even know it’s you.”

“I just don’t like it, okay? We should be spending Christmas together.”

“We should?”

“Yes. Don’t try to tell me you don’t agree. We need to be part of each other’s families.”

“Because of the baby,” I said, nodding.

“And because of us. If I care about you enough to mention you in an interview, I sure as hell care enough to bring you home to meet my family.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to talk past the lump in my throat. My heart couldn’t even take this man. The longer I waited to see if he’d screw up and pull a Riley on me, the more I saw how loyal and sweet he truly was.

He was right. Liam needed to know. Bennett deserved to know I thought enough of him to take on my brother’s wrath. I just had to find a way to direct it at myself instead of Bennett.





Bennett

A blanket of snow covered the lawn of my childhood home in Orland Park. I parked in front of the huge brick three-story and surveyed the cars in the driveway.

Everyone was here already. My brother, both sisters, my parents, my paternal grandparents, and numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins were all inside celebrating. We always spent the day snacking, playing games, catching up, and eating an enormous meal cooked by my mom in the evening.

I just sat in my car for a couple minutes, trying to find the will to go inside. I loved my family and I enjoyed spending time with them. Just not on Christmas. This day had taken on new meaning for me five years ago.



“Kelly’s . . . gone, Bennett,” her mom Linda said when I rushed into the hospital. “It was too late. The pills she took . . . she went quickly and peacefully, the doctors said.”

Her voice shook as she spoke, a used tissue clutched tightly in one hand. I took a step back, dizzy as her words sank in.

“No,” I said softly. “I just saw her last night. You were there. She was fine last night.”

Linda wiped the corners of her red-rimmed eyes. “I think she wanted us to believe she was. One last Christmas Eve together.”

She started crying hard then, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. I lost it, crying with her as I put my arms around her in a hug.

“How did this happen?” I said. “She was doing better. The counseling was helping.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think any of us really knew how much pain she was in. She couldn’t get past what happened to that little girl.”



I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead on the steering wheel. I wished Charlotte were here with me. I wanted to tell her why this day was hard and have her beside me as I tried not to let it show. With a heavy sigh, I lifted my head up and got out of the car.

My family mobbed me when I walked in. I got hugs, handshakes, and laughing kids wrapped around my legs.

“Where’s Charlotte?” my sister Grace asked, looking disappointed.

“Her mom’s visiting, so she stayed there.”

“She could have come, too,” my mom said, her expression about the same as Grace’s.

“You’ll meet her soon,” I promised.

“You excited about fatherhood?” my uncle Cory asked.

“Yeah, I am. We both are.”

I went into the living room and sat down, knowing I was in for a grilling. My family would want all the details about Charlotte and her pregnancy. But I loved that my family didn’t care whether we were married or that we’d gotten pregnant by accident. Charlotte and our child would be welcomed with open arms.

We exchanged gifts, with everyone getting gift cards from me. I kept my phone close by, waiting for a text from Charlotte. I was having a messenger service deliver her present today because I wanted her to get it on Christmas.

“How are you, Bennett?” my mom asked, sitting down next to me in a rare quiet moment.

“I’m good.”

“I know this is a hard day for you.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I’m trying to move past it.”

“And?”

“And it’s not as easy as I wish it was.”

“You still miss her.”

I shrugged again. “Mostly, I still feel guilty I didn’t see that she was suffering.”

“But you know the reality, honey. She may not have been suffering until right before she did it. Those urges can strike without much warning.”

“I know. I just worry that I’m not . . . intuitive enough. That Charlotte will need me to see something that’s going on with her and I’ll miss it. Again.”

“Have you told her about Kelly?”

I shook my head.

“You will, when the time’s right.”

I put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s good to see you, Mom.”

“You too. We’re all here for you, you know.”