Ben was better with the dog than he was. Luke was torn between wanting Ben to leave so he could be alone in his apartment and not wanting Ben to leave because then he’d lose his puppy-sitter. “Feel free to go anytime,” Luke said.
“I’ll eat here, if you don’t mind. Then head out.”
Luke shrugged.
Still holding the puppy, Ben sat at Luke’s table in front of the remaining take-out container.
“Do you want me to hold her?” Luke hadn’t finished his dinner, but it didn’t seem right to make Ben deal with a dog that was Luke’s responsibility.
“Nah. She’s finally settled down. I learned the skill of eating one-handed while taking care of my nieces and nephews.” He grinned, reminding Luke forcefully of the kid that Ben had once been.
Luke was a year older, but he’d known Ben throughout his childhood because they’d grown up in the same church youth group. Of the Coleman family’s four kids, Ben was the nicest, the one who was always in a good mood.
The day of the earthquake, the people on their mission trip had held a sports camp for local kids on inner-city soccer fields. At one point, Luke had seen Ben jogging down the field, passing a ball back-and-forth with a young boy. Eventually, the boy had kicked the ball into a portable net. Ben had thrown his fists in the air and given the same smile he’d given just now.
A few hours after that, their lives went from normal to near death. Down in that dusty dungeon, Ben had been hopeful and supportive. Luke had been neither of those things. It had taken all his effort to continue to breathe in and out in the face of his overwhelming terror and remorse. He’d been gripped with the worst type of shock, his mind consumed with one thought.
Ethan.
Ethan!
Over and over, with sickening, gut-punching guilt, he’d recalled the words he’d said to Ethan as they were about to take the stairs to the basement. “You’re last in line.”
So stupid. So, so stupid. Why had he said that?
All these years later, he still didn’t have an answer. He only had regret. And the sharp physical pain that wedged between his ribs every time he put himself back there, even for a few moments.
Luke crossed to the trash and threw away the remains of his meal. “So, you’ve started volunteering at the Center?”
Ben swallowed his bite. “Yes. I’m enjoying it so far.”
“Are you volunteering there because that’s where I work?” Luke leaned his hips against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms.
Ben stuck his fork in his rice so that it pointed straight up like a flagpole. “I had several reasons for wanting to volunteer there. But to answer your question, yes. One of them was you. I’d like for there to be at least a little bit of communication between us.”
“Why?”
“You were . . . there with us. It’s never set well with me, the fact that the rest of us have been close friends ever since but youhaven’t been a part of that. Our group will never ... feel complete without you.”
“You want to communicate with me so you can feel a sense of completion?”
“Sure. And because I think our friendship can be of some benefit to you.”
“You remind me of the worst day of my life. So I don’t see how contact between us could be for my benefit.”
Ben’s mouth formed a grim line. “You saved us the day of the earthquake. I’ve never been able to do anything for you in return, but I’ve always wanted to. I still want to.”
They’d been kids when the walls of that basement had begun to shake. Luke had been first in line. He’d simply pulled Ben forward, then Natasha, then Sebastian, then Genevieve. He’d turned to race back into the pitch-dark hallway for Ethan when Sebastian had stopped his progress a split-second before concrete crashed down. Luke hadn’t been fast enough.
“I didn’t save you.” It was a joke to think that anybody could have left that pile of rubble feeling gratitude toward him, the boy who’d killed his brother. “You’d all have made it to safety without me.”
“No, we wouldn’t have.”
“Of course you would have.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“You don’t owe me,” Luke stated. Hehatedthe patient way Ben was trying to reason with him. People had handled him the very same way after Ethan’s death.
