16
Emmy
The sheets beside me are cold. Untouched.
Jerking upright, I listen for the familiar sound before stumbling out of bed.
Ben glances up at me. His skin is pasty, plastered with sweat as he shivers against my toilet before he leans down to retch again.
I run the washcloth under the tap, rinsing it until it’s cool and pressing it to his neck. Ben groans, deep in his throat as I run my hand down his back. He reaches for my hand, tangling it in his. “Em.”
“Ben Ben,” I whisper.
He barely cracks a smile. His eyes skitter down, away from me. “Will you… will you get me some fresh pants?”
His face is flushed with shame.
“Of course,” I say quietly. My heart squeezes as he curls up. “I’ll be back.”
My hand shakes as I reach for a clean pair of sweatpants. Just for a moment, I grip them. I don’t move.
I just… breathe.
You never signed up for casual.
“Here we go.” I keep my voice light, but quiet as I walk back into the bathroom. “Let’s get you changed.”
“I can do it.” It’s almost a plea. “Just… help me up?”
He’s terrifyingly light under my grip, but it still takes us a few minutes to find his balance. Ben shakes his head when I move around him to help. “Please. I… just give me a minute.”
I nod. “I’ll make some coffee.”
Three weeks.
That’s all I can think when I hear him in the doorway. Three weeks for us to get from that to this. I keep my back to him for a second, concentrating a little too hard on adding the half sugar to his decaf coffee.
“Come for a walk with me, Emmy Marsters.” His voice is gruff.
My eyes feel wet. “It’s the middle of the night.”
And you’re tired, Ben. You’re so tired.
“You and I have the best conversations in the middle of the night.”
His fingers close over mine, gently placing the bag of sugar down on the counter. And then they link together, before he draws me away. “Come on. A few minutes won’t hurt.”
It’s getting colder. I bundle Ben into the jacket I bought last week, shoving a navy beanie over his head before I let him coax me out of the front door.
The night is quiet. There’s nobody around to disturb us as we walk down, in the direction of the pier.
Fresh, salty air sweeps over our faces, sending tendrils of hair dancing around my head as we reach the railings at the end. I step forward, wrapping my hands around the cold metal.
In front of us, the sea spreads out further than we can see, endless inky depths.
“Beautiful,” Ben says roughly.
I lean back into the warmth of him as he wraps his arms around me and props his head on top of mine. “I know. Those stars are huge.”
