20
Haven
Our five-miledrive somehow feels as if it lasts for hours. The silence sounds like a foghorn, and my thoughts are darting through me like dull bullets pounding against my head.
We pull down our driveway and into the garage before the car comes to a screeching halt. Bennett's door opens and slams closed before I'm able to get one foot out of the car. Granted, I'm moving much slower than normal, but I know Bennett is beyond angry, and while he might think he has every right to be, he should think again.He's not so innocent.
With slow strides, I make my way up the short set of stairs and into the dark kitchen.I guess we’re going right to bed. Point taken.I tread up the stairs, taking my time, contemplating what I can say in defense of everything that happened tonight.
I make my way into our bedroom, finding the bathroom door closed with the light glowing out from underneath the door. Frustrated, I plop down onto my vanity stool and stumble upon my reflection, noting the remnants of the red lipstick that once had an effect on the man whose life I ruined. I wish I could turn back the time and undo what I did. I wish I had been smarter and knew better not to lie for such a childish reason. But that's the thing, Iwasstill a child—one who just wanted to seem a little older.
The gushing sink quiets to a dribble and the clicking of the light switch echoes from within the bathroom.I still have nothing good to say.
As the door opens, Bennett walks past me while loosening his tie.More silence. He pulls his suit jacket off and tosses it onto the edge of the silk, navy bedding I don't want to touch tonight. During his toss, a ring box flies through the air, landing beside my feet. "I thought you wanted all of this," he says. "I bought that ring without a doubt in my mind that you would say yes."
"Bennett," I say, with nothing to follow.
"Don't bother," he continues. "You know what the funniest part of this is? If I had stuck with my original plan and popped the question last week while we were in the mountains, you probably would have said yes. I let the damn flu get in the way of that, though. Then Ryland's picture popped up all over town. I watched this domino effect occur right in front of me, and I didn't say a word."
"It's Raine," I correct him.
"Whatever, Haven. Does it matter?" he jabs. "Oh, yeah, of course it matters. You're still in love with him."
I stand up from the vanity stool while pulling my Louboutins off my throbbing feet. "Love him? You do know I was sixteen the last time I saw him, right?"
"What's your point?" Bennett unclasps the cufflinks from his shirt and tosses the thick Italian fabric to the ground in front of the closet. "You think no one has ever been in love at sixteen?"
His question makes me think, because these past few years, I have convinced myself that what I had with Raine wasn't love.How could I have known what love was?That was my only real answer. Then I found Bennett and everything moved quickly and effortlessly as if it were prearranged for us. I figured it would take time to build up the same kind of feelings I had so quickly grown for Raine, but I thought love would eventually come. However, with Bennett, I still don't feel half of what I felt for Raine, and it isn't because I didn't try. I have tried. I have had pep talks while looking in the mirror. I have told myself tosuck it up and try to understand what's best—words straight out of my demented parents' mouths. Maybe I didn't know what love was when I was sixteen, but that doesn't mean it wasn't what I was feeling. Nothing has ever come close to the way I felt then.
"I don't know what to say," I tell Bennett. That's the truth. It's the only truth I can come up with.
"I think your lack of words sums everything up quite nicely tonight," he responds.
I force myself to look over at him, the red splotches covering the paleness of his neck, the hunch in his shoulders, the small gut that's usually concealed by his perfect posture—now hanging slightly over his belt. The lines on his forehead scream the definition of pain and the buckling of his brows exposes the trueness of a broken heart.A broken heart he kind of deserves.All he wants is the answer to his "why" and I don't have one. "I do love you," I say, offering him a splintered olive branch.
"Do you?" Sarcasm drips from his words.
"I think so, Bennett, but—" I sigh with exasperation, trying my hardest to say what I mean without blurting out the harsh words piling up on the tip of my tongue. "I don't love who I am when I'm with you, and I think you have felt the same about me for quite some time. Wouldn't you agree?"
His nostrils flare at first, then he turns around and pulls open a drawer from his bureau, snatching up a flannel shirt and matching pants. "I've given you everything. Everything, Haven. You want and need for nothing. You don't have to work. You don't have to tend to the house. You can sit down on the front porch in your damn white rocking chair all day, every day, and read your lousy romance books. And you know what?" A contemptuous laugh bellows in his throat. "You're still not happy. Darling, some people might consider your response to having everything handed to you on a silver platter to be somewhat apathetic."
"Why is it, everyone in my life thinks all I want to do is sit around and read books all day? It's not enough to be placed on this earth to serve the purpose of being someone's daughter, then someone's wife, and God willing, someone's mother. Because, not once has anyone ever asked me what truly makes me happy," I tell him, vomiting more truths than I've ever cared to share with anyone since Raine listened to them seven years ago.
Bennett sits down on the edge of the bed, bringing his foot up over his other knee and clasps his hands together. "Go on then, Haven. Please, tell me what tickles your fancy."
I hiss and shake my head, "I'll tell you what doesn't tickle my fancy," I lash out. "Words likefancy, dresses that cost more than our mortgage payment, shoes that make my toes feel like they're bleeding from the moment I put them on, jewelry that almost always make me itch—no matter how much money was spent on them. Saying please and thank you four million times a day. Smiling when I don't want to smile. Laughing at stupid jokes. Sayingyesto proposals just because I'm expected to do so."
"Well, pardon me, Miss Perfect," he counters.
I walk over to him, kneeling in front of him. "What makes me happy, Bennett…what makes me truly, purely, happy?" I laugh for a moment, regressing to the times I live to remember. "Swimming in a deserted lake alone while watching the sunset, standing in the rain barefoot while wet mud slithers across the tops of my feet, slugging a beer, burping when I've eaten too much, letting the grease from a freshly barbecued burger dribble down my chin without concern, and wearing seasonable clothing so I don't have to sweat my fucking ass off in a long, thick dress when it's a hundred degrees with a hundred percent humidity." I pause for a moment to catch my breath, realizing there are so many stupid, insignificant things that simply make me happy. "Oh, and I like to cuss because it makes my point a little clearer, and it makes me feel a whole lot better about what I'm feeling." I laugh to myself, loving every word spewing from my mouth. "Those are the things that make me happy, and I'm willing to bet you had no clue that any one of those meager parts of life could possibly make a person smile, least of all, me. I haven't done one of those 'unacceptable' activities in years, and I miss myself for it. I miss the girl who I always wanted to be andwasfor such a short period of time before I gave in and became the woman my parents struggled to mold me into."
"I don't know you. Or I don't know what's gotten into you. Either way, I don't like it," Bennett says sourly, with a snarling curl to his top lip.
"I knew you wouldn't. Among other unimportant reasons, I'm done pretending I'm someone I'm not. I can't be this person for you or anyone. I was born to be a lower class, works for her food kind of girl, and that's what I want."
"You mean, you want Raine," he corrects me.
"No, I want what Raine showed me I was missing out on."
