"That's what cousins are for. Call me tomorrow with an update."
After ending the call, Ben stared at Kelly's text for a long moment. Despite the hurt that still lingered, he couldn't deny the leap his heart had made when he saw her name on his screen. He texted back his room number and then moved to straighten the bedspread.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face and ran a hand through his hair. The face that stared back at him from the mirror looked tired but composed. Whatever happened next, he would handle it with dignity.
Ben took a deep breath and slowly released it. His conversation with Brianna had helped clarify his thinking. He didn't owe Kelly an apology for not disclosing his family history. But he also couldn't deny that he wanted to fix things between them. The question was whether that was even possible.
However, Kelly’s coming here was a huge step forward.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. She was here. Ben stood, his heart hammering against his ribs. This was it.
They’d either work this out, or he’d be taking an early flight back to the city. He hadn’t known Kelly long, and it shouldn’t have made any difference, but it did.
She was different. And he was different when they were together.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Kelly stoodoutside Ben’s room, her hand raised to knock. She hesitated for a moment before telling herself to get a grip and a spine. She could do this. Not apologizing after acting like an asshole wasn’t an option. He deserved better.
She knocked twice, quick and sharp.
The door opened almost immediately, which meant he'd been waiting on the other side. Ben stood there in the same dress shirt from the rehearsal dinner, untucked now, sleeves rolled to the elbows. His eyes swept over her face, taking in what she knew must be a disaster. Red-rimmed eyes. Smeared mascara she hadn't bothered to fix. Hair that had started the evening in an elegant twist and now resembled something a bird might nest in.
She’d hid her face in the lobby, not wanting to scare people.
He stepped back and gestured her inside without a word.
The room was exactly what she'd expected from a roadside hotel ten miles outside Bergen. Beige walls, a generic landscape print bolted to the wall so no one could steal it, a king-sized bed with a polyester bedspread that probably hadn't been updated since the Clinton administration.
Ben's suitcase sat on the luggage rack, zipped closed. His phone lay on the nightstand next to a half-empty water bottle.
This was where she'd sent him. Out of a comfortable condo and into this.
Kelly clutched her purse in front of her like a shield and stayed near the door. The space between them felt wider than the actual distance, which was maybe three feet. She'd rehearsed what to say during the cab ride over. The cab driver, a young man who moonlighted on the weekends for extra money, had even offered advice she hadn't asked for. She hadn’t even told him the story at all, but he’d taken one look at her face and figured that something had gone down.
“Just talk it through,” he'd told her. "The rest takes care of itself."
Simple advice. Hard to execute when her hands wouldn't stop shaking.
"I talked to Celia tonight," she began.
No preamble, no small talk. She didn't have the energy for a warm-up.
“After I talked to Dad. She told me I was making a scene. That everything was calm until I showed up. That Mom's been checking her blood pressure all day because of me, and Rob had to take an antacid or something like that. She said they’re all happier when I’m not there.”
She paused, letting that sink in. Not for dramatic effect, but because her throat had tightened and she needed a second.
“And of course, you know that my dad pulled me aside earlier in the evening to tell me he'd investigated you. He was so pleased with himself for knowing something I didn't. I told him that I already knew, but I don’t think he believed me.” She pressed her lips together. “He got this satisfied look on his face. He'd proven once again that I make bad choices and can't take care of myself. That I’m incompetent and need him to run my life for me.”
Ben stood by the bed, his arms at his sides. He was listening. Just listening. Not interrupting, not defending, not trying to fix anything. It was such a foreign experience with a man in her life that she almost didn't know how to handle it.
"And then Celia basically told me I should skip the wedding. That she didn't care if I came or not. 'Do whatever you want,' she said, like I was some stranger off the street instead of her sister. She said I was selfish and self-involved. Maybe she’s right.”
Kelly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her heels were killing her. She should have changed shoes before coming here, but she'd been in too much of a hurry to think about practical things like footwear.
"I don't think they want me at the wedding," she went on. "But I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of telling everyone what a terrible daughter and sister I am. I'm going to grit my teeth and smile and tell everyone how happy Trevor and Celia are going to be. I'll eat the cake and throw the rice, the birdseed, or whatever they're using, and I'll be the perfect guest. Because the alternative is giving them a decade's worth of ammunition, and I'm done supplying them with things to use against me."
