She wipes a tear away with a nearby napkin. Seeing her try to hold it in creates pressure in my chest. I hurt for her, especially knowing what she's about to face alone.
"I just feel bad. I've been so caught up in everything I've lost the past two days, I haven't even thought about how much it affects Ian and Ben. I mean, they both live here. And now they're stuck with a girl who's about to have a baby. The last thing I want is for them to feel obligated to help me, but . . . I really don't want to go back to Nevada. I can't move back in with my mother when this is my home. I just . . ." She presses her hands against her face. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to burden anyone, but I'm scared I can't do this on my own."
I put my arms around her and she begins to cry into my shirt. I had no idea she didn't want to move back in with her mother. I wonder if Ben is even aware of that.
"Jordyn."
We both look up when Ben calls her name. He's standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a distraught look on his face. When she looks up at him, she starts crying even harder. He walks over to her and puts his arms around her, so I stand up and walk around the bar, giving them space.
"You aren't going anywhere, okay?" he says. "You're my sister. You're Ian's sister. And our nephew will be raised in the home that you and Kyle planned for him to be raised in." He pulls back and brushes the hair out of her face. "Promise me you'll let us help you."
She nods, wiping more tears away. She can barely get out the words thank you between sobs.
I can't watch her cry anymore. I'm on the verge of tears myself just knowing how scared she is. I rush up the stairs and back into Ben's bedroom, where I can gather my thoughts. So many things are running through my head, most of them fears. I'm afraid he's making a decision out of haste. I'm afraid if I tell him how much I wish he would move to New York, he would actually do it, and it's obvious his sister-in-law needs him here. Not to mention the possibilities he'd lose by giving up on the book. I feel the more genuine the story is, the better chance he'll have of selling the book. Yes, I would love to start a real relationship right now, but that's not what we agreed on in the beginning. If we just up and end our arrangement in the middle without continuing to meet up on November 9th, he'll be giving up on what his agent obviously thought would make a great book.
I can't believe he has an agent.
That's huge, and I don't know why he didn't tell me. As much as I want to believe he's okay with not finishing the book, I fear that he's making this decision based on the high emotions from the last few days. The last thing I want is for him to make a choice as big as moving across the country and then regretting it after he does it. Of course I'd give anything to have him with me every day, but even more than that I want him to be happy with whatever decision he makes. I know three years is a long time for us to wait, but those three years could make a huge difference in his success as an author. The fact that our story is true might make it appealing to readers, and even though I haven't read any of it yet, I'm convinced he needs to finish it.
I don't want to be the reason he doesn't finish what he started out to do. Years from now, he'll look back on tonight and he'll wonder if he made the wrong choice. If maybe our lives would have still turned out the same and we would still end up together, but by waiting three years, he also would have met his goal of writing the book he promised to write.
He's made such a huge difference in my life. More than he'll ever know. If it weren't for him, I don't think I would have ever regained my confidence. I know I wouldn't have had the courage to audition anywhere. Just having him in my life one day a year has had such a positive effect on me, I'd hate myself if I did the exact opposite for him.
And none of that includes what just transpired over the last ten minutes. There's no way he can move to New York when his family needs him now more than ever. Jordyn is going to need him here way more than I need him in New York. He and Ian are both going to need to be here for her and I refuse to be the one to convince him to leave her at a time like this.
I grab my phone and call for a cab before I change my mind.
Ben
I close the door to Jordyn's bedroom when I hear Fallon's footsteps coming down the stairs. I walk around the corner to meet her and she gasps, clutching a hand to her heart.
"You scared me," she says, taking the last step. "How is she?"
I glance down the hallway toward Jordyn's bedroom. "Better," I say. "I think the pizza helped."
Fallon smiles appreciatively. "It wasn't the pizza that made her feel better, Ben." She takes two more steps, toward the front door this time. I finally notice the purse around her shoulder and the shoes on her feet. She looks prepared to leave.
She shuffles, putting her weight on one foot. She shrugs, as if I asked her a question, and then she looks back up at me. "Earlier . . ."
"Fallon," I interject. "Please don't change your mind."
She winces, looking up and to the right as if she's trying to hold back tears. She's not changing her mind. She can't. I rush toward her and grab both of her hands. "Please. We can do this. Maybe I can't move right away, but I will. Things just need to settle around here first."
She squeezes my hands and releases a sigh. "Jordyn said you got an agent." Her voice sounds somewhat offended, and she has a right to be. I should have told her that before she heard it from somewhere else, but my mind has been a little preoccupied today.
I nod. "Yeah, a couple months ago. I submitted the book idea to a few and this one really likes it." I realize where this is going, so I shake my head. "It doesn't matter Fallon. I can write something else."
A stream of light strolls across the walls, and she glances over her shoulder. Her cab is here.
"Please," I beg. "Just give me your phone number, at least. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll figure it out then, okay?" I'm trying to keep my voice soothing and hopeful, but it's hard hiding the panic that's building up in my chest.
She regards me with a look that resembles pity. "It's been an emotional couple of days, Ben. It's not fair of me to let you make this kind of decision right now." She presses her lips to my cheek and then turns for the front door. I follow her out, determined not to let her change her mind like this.
When she reaches the cab, she faces me with a steadfast look. "I would never forgive myself if I didn't encourage you to follow your dreams like you encouraged me to follow mine. Please don't ask me to be the reason you give them up. It isn't fair."
I can feel the desperate appeal in her words, and it forces all of my words back down my throat. She wraps her arms around me, pressing her face against my neck. I hold her tight, hoping if she feels how much I need her to stay with me that she'll change her mind. But she doesn't. She releases me and opens the door to the cab.
I've never wanted to use physical force on a girl before, but I want to push her to the ground and hold her there until the cab drives away.
"I'll come here next year," she says. "I want to meet your nephew. We'll meet at the restaurant again, okay? Same time, same place?"
What?
Did we even experience the same past eight hours?
Did she fall down the stairs and hit her head?
No, I'm not agreeing to this. She's crazy if she thinks I'm just going to give her a high five and tell her I'll see her in a year. I shake my head adamantly and close the door to the cab, refusing to let her climb inside.
"No, Fallon. You can't just agree to love me, and then take it back because you think it's not what's best for me. That's not how this works."
She's startled by my words. I think she expected me to let her go without a fight, but she's not the kind of girl you choose your battles for. She's the kind of girl you fight to the death for.
She leans against the cab and crosses her arms over her chest. Her eyes are focused on the ground, but mine are focused on her.
"Ben," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't need to be in New York. You need to be here. I'll jus
t be a distraction, and you'll never finish your book. It's only three more years. If we're meant to be together, three years is nothing."
I laugh, but my laugh is short and humorless. "Meant to be together? Are you listening to yourself? This isn't one of your fairy tales, Fallon. This is real life, and in the real world you have to bust your ass for the happy ever after!" I grip the nape of my neck and take a step away from her, trying to collect my frustration and bottle it back up, but it's pouring out of me every time I think about how she can so easily climb into this cab, knowing she won't see me for an entire year. "When you find love, you take it. You grab it with both hands and you do everything in your power not to let it go. You can't just walk away from it and expect it to linger until you're ready for it."
I don't know where this is coming from. I've never been angry at her before, but I'm so fucking pissed because this hurts. It hurts to know we just shared what we did upstairs in my room and then after giving it a little thought, she decides it didn't mean shit to her. That I don't mean shit to her.
Her eyes are wide and she's watching me struggle through every single emotion a guy can possibly have. This week has been full of them. From Kyle's death, to having to call Fallon yesterday morning, to seeing her at my front door, to breaking down on her in my bed, to making love to her in the same spot. If I were to put the week's emotions on a graph chart, it would look like tidal waves.
I see her glance at the cab as if she's contemplating her decision. I step forward and put my hands on her shoulders, forcing her attention back on me. "Don't walk away from this."
Her shoulders drop with her sigh. She gives her head a soft shake. "Ben, I'm not walking away from this. I'm not doing anything we didn't agree to the first day we met. I'm the one sticking to the rules, here. We agreed on five years. And yes, we had a little hiccup upstairs where we almost caved and--"
I cut her off. "A hiccup?" I point to the house. "Did you just refer to us agreeing to start a relationship as a . . . hiccup?"
Her expression is immediately apologetic, but I don't want to hear an apology. I'm obviously in the wrong here, because when I made love to her I knew what was happening between us was something most people don't even know exists. And if she even remotely felt the same, there's no way in hell she would be saying these things right now.
My stomach clenches and I want to double over in pain. But instead I hold steady and I offer her one last chance to prove to me that the entire past day wasn't completely one-sided.
I grip her face until my fingers are wrapped around the nape of her neck. I brush my thumbs across her cheeks and encourage her to look up at me. I touch her softly--as gentle as my fingers are capable of touching her. She swallows, and I can see that my change in demeanor is making her nervous.
"Fallon," I say, keeping my voice calm and sincere. "I don't care about the book. I don't even want to finish it. All I care about is you. Being with you every day. Seeing you every day. I'm not finished falling in love with you yet. But if you don't want to finish falling in love with me, then you need to tell me right now. Do you want me to be a part of your life on more than just November 9th? If you say no, I'll turn around and walk right back inside that house and things can go back to how they were before you showed up here yesterday. I'll continue working on the book and we'll meet up next year. But if you say yes . . . if you tell me you want to spend every single day on the calendar this year falling in love with me, then I'm going to kiss you. And I promise it'll be an eleven. And I'll spend every day after today proving to you that you made the right choice."
My hands remain firm on her face. Her eyes remain firm on mine.
And then a tear slowly begins to take shape and rolls down her cheek. She shakes her head, "Ben, you can't--"
"Yes or no, Fallon. That's all I want to hear."
Please say yes. Please tell me you aren't finished falling in love with me yet.
"You need to be here for your family this year. You know that as well as I do, Ben. The last thing we need is a relationship over a cell phone. And that's exactly what will happen, because we'll spend every spare second wanting to talk to each other instead of focusing on our goals. We'll alter everything just to be together, and it shouldn't be that way. Not yet. We need to finish what we started."
I let all of that go in one ear and out the other, because it isn't the answer I want. I lower myself until I'm at eye level with her. "Yes. Or no."
She inhales a shaky breath. And then, in a weak effort at sounding sincere, she says, "No. No, Ben. Go back inside and finish your book."
Another tear falls, but this time it falls from my eye.
I take a step back and I let go of her. When she climbs into the backseat of the cab, she rolls down her window, but I won't look at her face. I stare at the ground beneath my feet, waiting to see if it will split in two and swallow me whole.
"The one thing I want more than anything is for the whole world to laugh at you, Ben." I can hear the tears in her voice. "And they can't do that if I don't do for you what you did for me the day we met. You let me go. You encouraged me to go. And I want the same for you. I want you to follow your passion instead of your heart."
The cab begins to back away, and for a split second I think maybe she'll realize how fucked up her priorities are, because she's my passion. The book was just an excuse.
I debate running after her--giving her a book-worthy performance. I could chase down the cab and when it comes to a stop, I could pull open her door and whisk her into my arms and tell her I'm in love with her. That I finished falling in love with her almost immediately after I started, because it was a straight plummet from the top to the bottom. A whoosh. An instant. Insta-love.
But she hates insta-love. Apparently she hates semi-instant love and slow love and love at a snail's pace and love in general and . . . "Fuck!"
I curse at the empty street, because for once, I get exactly what I deserve.
Fourth November
9th
In her darkness, she is silent.
In my darkness, she screams.
--BENTON JAMES KESSLER
Fallon
Even counting the night I was called up from being the understudy, I wasn't this nervous. I'm over an hour early, but our booth was already taken when I arrived here this morning, so I chose the one next to it.
I tap my fingers on the table, my eyes flicking to the door anytime someone enters or exits.
I have no idea how I'm going to start this conversation. How do I tell him that as soon as I pulled away last year, I knew I'd made the biggest mistake of my life? How do I tell him I made that last minute decision for his benefit? That I thought if I told him I didn't want to fall in love with him, that I would be helping him in some way? And most important, how do I bring up the fact that I moved back to Los Angeles just for him? Well, not exactly just for him. I did make a huge career change a few months ago.
Back when I was in community theater, I was asked to help out with lines a lot because people had confidence in my talent. I guess you could say I taught acting in a sense. The joy I got from that stuck with me and over time, I realized that I enjoyed assisting the actors with their parts more than I enjoyed being the actor.
It took a few months to finally accept that maybe my goal wasn't to be an actress anymore. People change. They grow. Passions evolve, and mine evolved into wanting to help others develop their own talents.
I looked into schools all over the country, but with my mother, Amber, and yes, Ben, being in Los Angeles, it was a no-brainer for which city I ended up choosing.
As much as I question my decision for not agreeing to be with him last year, I know it was for the best in the long run. I've never been more at peace with my career choice as I am right now, and I'm not sure it would have happened had Ben been in the picture. So even though mistakes were made, I don't have any regrets. I think things are working out exactly as they should.
But as Ben and I can both probably
attest, a lot can change in a year, so I'm terrified he may have changed his mind. He may not even want to be with me like he did last year. He may still be so pissed at me, he doesn't even show up.
But that's not really why I'm nervous.
I'm nervous because I know he will. He always shows up. But this year, I have no idea where we stand. We left on really bad terms last year and I take complete blame, but he has to understand that if the shoe were on the other foot, he would have done the same for me. If I had made such a huge declaration in the midst of so much suffering, he would have acknowledged that maybe I wasn't in the best place to make such a life-altering decision. And he certainly can't fault me for encouraging him to stay and help out his family. His brother had just died. His sister-in-law needed him. His nephew would need him. It was the right thing. He would have done the same for me. He just took it as hard as he did because he was already having such an emotional week.
I almost feel like showing up unannounced last year was a bad idea. I feel like my time there did more damage than it did good.
My thoughts are interrupted when a hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I look up, expecting to see Ben standing there. And I do . . . but it's not just Ben. It's Ben and . . . a baby.
His nephew.
I know this immediately because he has Ben's eyes. Kyle's eyes.
All of this is coming at me at once and I try to process each thing separately. First, the fact that Ben showed up. And he's smiling at me as I stand up to hug him, so that's enough to elicit a huge sigh of relief.
Second, his arm is wrapped around this baby boy who is perched up on his hip, leaning his head against Ben's chest. Seeing him with his nephew like this assures me that both of us made the right choice last year, whether he agreed to it at the time or not.
I was hoping to meet his nephew at some point today, but I thought I'd have a chance to talk to Ben first, one-on-one, about how we left things last year. But I can adapt. Especially for a baby as cute as this one.
He's grinning shyly at me and I can see so much of Jordyn in him. He's almost equal parts Jordyn and Kyle. I wonder how that is for her . . . to see so much of Kyle when she looks at her son.