"Thanks," he mumbled. "I've been working from home. Very busy."
If she believed or disbelieved him, he couldn’t tell from her expression.
“Well… thank you,” she finally said, her gaze darting toward the door. She wanted out of there. Did she think he would stop her? “I appreciate the help.”
He stepped back to give her a clear path to the exit, wanting her to feel safe and comfortable. She quickly brushed past him to leave, the scent of her perfume in her wake.
Woodsy with a hint of vanilla and citrus? He wasn’t all that good with things like that. He only knew that he liked it. It wasn’t overpowering and heavy like so many women often wore in the office.
Ben stood there for a moment, contemplating how his life had fallen apart in such a short time, all culminating with a Cheeto. On his shirt.
Classy.
He’d now also noticed that he was wearing a ratty pair of sweatpants along with his college t-shirt that had seen better days. Running his fingers over his jaw, he could feel the stubble that had grown in. It wasn’t a “cool” stubble anymore either, but more like a gold miner who had been up in the mountains a bit too long.
He couldn’t see his hair, but he had a sneaky suspicion that it might be uncombed and standing on end. No wonder the woman had wanted to keep her distance. The only thing positive he could say was that he’d still showered daily, so he didn’t smell.
I’ve seen homeless men look better.
By the time he made it back to his apartment, he could still feel the sting of embarrassment. Closing the door behind him, he leaned against it, surveying his now tidier living room. The absence of trash only highlighted how empty the space felt.
Expensive furniture, tasteful artwork, not a single thing out of place now—and utterly devoid of personality. He’d never been home much, so it hadn’t mattered. Why did it matter now?
He pushed away from the door, walked to the center of the room, picked up the remote, and pressed the power button firmly. The screen went black, the sudden silence heavy in the apartment.
Everything changes starting now.
It was time to stop this downward spiral. Ben was many things, but he wasn't a quitter. He might have lost his business, his partners, and his sense of purpose, but he hadn't lost himself. Not completely. Not yet, anyway.
He walked to his guest room, which doubled as an office, and opened up his laptop. He started a new document, making a listof all the things he wanted to accomplish now that he had the time.
He could start training for that 10K he’d always talked about but never did anything about. He could go shopping and buy a few throw pillows to warm up the living room. Hell, he could completely redecorate to celebrate his new life.
Whatever it might be.
He could practice making his mother’s famous lasagna, which his brother Chase had perfected. Wait…hadn’t he always wanted to take a trip to Vermont and go hiking? He added that to the list as well. He could even call up Chase and see if his brother wanted to join him.
Within only about twenty minutes, he had a long list of things that he’s never had the time to do. He’d put skydiving on the list, but then scratched it out. He probably needed to pace himself a bit. He’d gone from having absolutely no free time to having tons of it. It was going to be a transition.
"Tomorrow is going to be different," he said out loud.
No one was there to hear him, but it sounded more official and binding than some voice in his head.
Picking up his phone from the desk where he'd left it to charge, Ben opened the alarm app. After a moment's consideration, he set it for 6:00 AM. Early enough to get in a run before the city fully woke.
Physical exertion had always cleared his head before. Maybe it would help now. Maybe it would give him some clarity about what to do next. Because this…this wallowing in self-pity, this Netflix binging, this junk food overindulgence wasn't sustainable. It wasn't who he would allow himself to be.
The problem was, Ben wasn't entirely sure who he was anymore. For so long, he'd been defined by his success, by the business he'd built with Scott and Martin. He was the businesspartner, the guy who made things happen, the one who turned ideas into profit.
Tomorrow would be different. It had to be. Because Ben wasn't a man who stayed down for long, even if he wasn't entirely sure which direction was up anymore.
He wouldn’t accept anything less for himself.
Chapter
Two
“You have a Cheeto on your shirt,”Amy smirked. “That’s just classic. I can’t believe you said that. It’s golden.”
