“Yeah. I just …” She owed him an explanation—anit’s not you, it’s me—though she’d never use those words. The trouble was, words were hard to come by right now. “I thought I was ready to … that I was over … moving on is …”
“Avery, stop. I get it.”
Tears blurred her vision. “You do?” she half choked. “I’m so sorry.”
There was another pause, this one like the suspended last note of a violin solo. “Promise me something?”
She sniffed in reply.
“When you are ready, make sure the guy spoils you. You deserve to have someone in your life who will look for ways to make you smile.”
She pressed her hand over her mouth, tears burning twin trails down her cheeks. “You’re amazing, Ben.”
“Good night, Avery.”
“’Night.” She hung up the phone and buried her face in her arms.
A few minutes later—or it could have been an hour; she wasn’t keeping track of time—Landon called into the backyard. “Mom?”
She hurriedly swiped her face and sniffed repeatedly. “I’m coming.” With a shuddering breath, she made herself stand up. She loved her son dearly, and leaning on that love was going to get her through this pain.
As she got ready for bed, she wondered about the ache in her heart. If what she felt for Ben wasn’t love, then why did losing him hurt so much?
Chapter Twenty-One
Ben
“Don’t go up on your toes,” warned Quin.
Ben glared at the golf ball. “I haven’t done that since Stanford.” His golf coach had broken him of the nasty habit and shaved five swings off his game.
“You struggle to keep your feet on the ground in golf and in love.”
Ben pulled back and let his irritation at his brother fuel his swing. The ball soared a good 350 feet before bouncing twice and settling on the green. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Quin scoffed, flipping his hair off his forehead with a jerk of his head. It’d been a while since he’d been to the barber. He must be deep into his latest project. He got like that sometimes, only surfacing for food and golf. And the golf was only if Ben made an appointment.
“You’re falling to pieces over this woman.”
“I’m not.” He handed his club to his caddy and waited for Quin to take his shot. His ball landed just in front of the green. He’d be chipping on.
“You are. You haven’t given me a hard time all day. It’s like I’m here with the ghost of Ben past.”
“The ghost of my past showed up out of the blue to take Savannah to lunch today.”
“Ha!” Quin slapped him on the back. “That’s more like it. Let’s have a go at Grace.”
Ben slumped into the passenger seat of the rented golf cart. “No thanks.”
“Okay, now I know something’s up.”
Ben held on to the armrest as Quin slammed his leather ECCO golf shoe down on the accelerator, making the cart lurch forward.
“Not all of us have a marriage pact to fall back on,” Ben groused.
Quin smirked. “Yeah, like that’s going to work out.”
“The clock is ticking, bro. Do you know wherewhere she is?”
