One of the worst days of my life had been waking up in the hospital with Matt beside the bed, his eyes swollen from crying and his heart broken.
I did that to him. I hurt people.
So, on what planet did I ever think someone like Ben Lancaster would settle for someone as screwed up as I was? Sure, I’d gotten help—the court order made sure of it—but that didn’t change the fact that my brain wasn’t normal. My chemistry was screwed and without the drugs I’d slide right back to where I was before.
I’d be just like my mom and when she’d been alive she had been toxic, although since she’d never been diagnosed I guess it really wasn’t her fault. But that didn’t change things—the facts—and the biggest one was when she’d had enough and had driven off a bridge into Lake Muskegan, taking my dad with her. Murder/suicide.
Nice.
For a few days I’d let myself believe that someone as screwed up as me could have something special with someone like Ben Lancaster. But who was I kidding? When he found out what I was really about, he’d run for the hills. He was a smart guy. He would eventually figure it out and just like I’d told him to his face, that’s what I would do. Run.
The only problem with running away was eventually you had to find your way back. At least I did.
I had run away for a week, but I couldn’t stay at Kendall’s parents any longer. It was time to go home. Time to figure things out. And that’s why a week later I found myself trudging through the foyer of Matt’s building, waving to Joe. I’d taken a few steps toward the elevator when I stopped and whirled around.
“Hey, is Ben Lancaster still staying with my brother?” A sliver of apprehension rolled through me and my cheeks flushed about two shades past crimson. Up until just now, I assumed he was gone.
Joe shook his head. “I don’t think so, Georgia. I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
“Oh, okay.” Relief.
“How are you?” he asked just as I turned back to the elevator. I knew I looked like shit and the concern in his voice confirmed it.
“I’m fine. Just tired. Thanks for asking, Joe.”
A few minutes later I let myself into the loft. Matt shouldn’t be home. His vacation was officially over and as far as I knew he was at work, but Ben…I still wasn’t sure.
Silence greeted me and I cleared my throat, gazing around carefully. “Hey,” I said softly.
Nothing. Ben was gone.
With a sigh I headed to my bedroom, tossing my bag and staring at the bed that was as unmade as it had been a week ago. I walked toward it and slowly slid across the sheets, hugging my pillow and burying my face in the covers.
They were cold and I shivered, disappointed that I didn’t feel Ben or smell him. There was nothing—as if the night I’d spent with him had never happened.
The thought left me empty and it took a good ten minutes before I was able to force myself from the bed and into the shower, and really I only did that because there was nothing else to do. I wasn’t in any hurry. What did I have to run to? I wasn’t in the mood to paint, I wasn’t hungry and I sure as hell didn’t care about what I looked like.
I stood under the hot spray letting the steam envelop my skin, and nearly an hour later I heard the door slam shut. I’d just combed out my hair and paused in my bedroom.
“G?” It was Matt.
I didn’t answer at first because I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to him.
“G?” he said again, worry in his voice.
I sighed and sat on the end of my bed. “In here.”
A few seconds later he was there, leaning against the doorframe, his blond good looks, all scrunched up in an apology face. I saw that he felt like shit. I was happy that he felt like shit and yet, how many times had he been on the receiving end of my sad, apologetic face?
“G,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”
At least he got right to the point. There was no waiting. No awkward silences.
Except that there was. I couldn’t answer him and turned away. There was a huge knot in my throat, everything was tight and it took a bit to clear it away. The emotion that pummeled my chest came out of nowhere and I realized that I wasn’t just angry. Not by a long shot. I was so hurt and so sad that I couldn’t speak.