Stupidly, I thought the next message was going to fix everything, but it didn't.
Ben:So you're the victim? You want the truth? You're unstable. Never know what you want. And when shit gets real you either bolt or become neurotic
Ben:Which is the reason why I didn't want to make any move
I just stared at the screen, rereading it, my heart pumping so violently I thought I was going to drop dead.
I was neurotic?!
Fine. I'd show him neurotic.
Me:Don't twist this you asshole. You're not a real man! You're an inconsistent flake and I can't even list the number of times you let me down
Me:Delete my number. I mean it. Don't text. Don't call.
Ben:There it is. The mature Emma
Me:I don't care. Don't even look at me if we pass on the street
Me:Starting today, I'll pretend I've never met you
Ben:Wow... just... fucking wow
Me:I AM DONE WITH YOU, BEN
Me:DONE
Ben:You won't see me on the streets. I'm staying in New York
Ben:You ruined my night, my year, my fucking life. Exactly like I expected
Ben:I hope one day I can forgive you
And that was it. The last time I ever heard from him.
No closure.
Just silence, loud enough to last three years.
4
I might be hallucinating, but five nights—five damn nights—his music has been bleeding through the ceiling like some phantom haunting me.
Five nights of me lying there, wide awake, listening and recalling all our memories. Better than the alternative, I guess because yesterday? I had a very inappropriate dream. I think it was my first one ever.
Ben's mouth on mine, his body pinning me down. We didn't get to the deed—ironic as our reality was—but I woke up tangled in sheets, wet all the way to my ankles. And the worst part was that Richard was up, because apparently, I mumbled.
He's used to me talking, or sometimes crying out in my sleep, but last night he seemed more suspicious than worried.
I couldn't bring myself to ask what he'd heard, only begged the universe that I wasn't speaking from sleep.
So now I'm in the gym. 5 a.m.
If the rooftop pool were finally fixed, I'd be in it, submerged, weightless and maybe without any guilt for a second. Instead, I'm punishing myself in the heat on the treadmill.
Then the elevator opens, and Ben walks in.
My heart stops. Then sprints faster than after an hour of cardio.
