“Close to five,” he replies. “Here, let me help you.”
He starts to untie my Doc Marten’s when I have the sudden realization that I’m mad at him, too. “Wait!” I say, sitting up so I can face him. I’ve got to rip the bandaid off before I lose steam.
Ben looks at me with a bemused expression. “Wait to take your shoes off?” he asks, a furrow in his brow.
“No, I don’t care about the shoes. I—”Shit. “What do you need to tell me?”
This apparently doesn’t clear things up for him. “What do I?—?”
“I heard you,” I interrupt. “Talking to your mom this morning. In her office.”
A look of genuine surprises crosses his face. “You did? How much did you hear?”
“Enough to know that you have something to tell me and your mom thinks you need to go ahead and do it. So, come on. What is it? You’ve just been fucking with me this entire time? It’s all a big joke to you? Is that it?”
Ben’s expression turns stern. “Absolutely not. I would never be that cruel.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I ask. “Aren’t you the one who tricked me into this whole pact situation to begin with?”
“Twelve years ago? Okay so high-school me was a bit immature, big surprise there.” He scoffs. “But now? You know better than that now.” His voice is imploring. He wants me to agree with him but I can’t, not until I know what he’s hiding from me.
“What is it then? You know honesty and transparency is all I’ve asked of you. Just tell me.”
We’re both standing now, facing each other. I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“I have been honest with you,” he replies.
“But?” I prompt. He hesitates, fighting a battle that I’m not privy to. And I’m so fucking tired of living on the outside of my own damn life. “Just fucking tell me!”
“I funded your grant.”
“You…” I take a step back, a step away from him, but the lace on my shoe that Ben untied catches me, and I’m falling. Ben tries to catch me but he’s not fast enough. I land hard on the edge of the coffee table, flipping it sideways so the puzzle on top goes flying, scattering pieces all over my living room.
You know when something is so surprising, even if it’s not the worst thing to happen to you that day, it sends you over the edge? The last puzzle piece falls into my lap and it’s like a rock hitting a window.
I shatter.
The first tear falls before I even realize what’s happening. It slides off the edge of my nose, dropping soundlessly.
“Cole, talk to me.” Ben is kneeling in front of me now, his mouth tight.
I shake my head, covering my mouth before an embarrassing sound comes out. It’s not even necessarily his revelation, though I’m not thrilled about it, but the fact that he kept it from me. That I didn’t have a choice in the matter. In something that affectsmylife.
Again, I have the feeling of being an observer of someone who looks like me and acts like me but isn’t allowed to make her own decisions.
“You had no right,” I say, pitifully splayed out on the floor like a toddler.
“I only wanted to help,” he pleads.
But I’m manic now. “I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone’s help! People do nice things and then they… they hold it over your head as if you owe them.”
“That’s not what’s happening, Cole.”
“Then why? Why do that? Why not ask if I wanted help?”
Ben’s face waivers between anger and frustration. “Because I love you, Colette!” he yells. “Because I love you and I’d do whatever it takes to make you happy!”
He pushes his hair off his forehead only for it to flop back down.
