“Uh huh. Right. Load up, girl, because I’m taking you down,” he says, scooping up more snow. I take the opportunity to run, forfeiting the ammo altogether. I dash into the trees, weaving around until I find what looks like the perfect place to hide and create a fortress for snowball building. But as I scurry down into it, I see something near one of the cabins; I stop.
Ben is sitting there. Not looking around or crafting snow into balls. Just sitting there. Instinctively, I go and sit next to him.
“Hey,” I say with a smile. “You doing alright?” I ask.
“Well, I was really hoping no one would find my hiding spot,” he says.
“My bad,” I grimace. “But now that I’m here, you might as well tell me why you look so down in the dumps.”
“This is wild, isn’t it?” he asks.
“You and I broke up, and now I’m the wedding planner at your wedding that is happening in less than twenty-four hours?” I ask, somewhat jokingly.
“Mostly the me getting married part,” he says, and I’m a little surprised. “If I’m being honest, and I’m going to be because I’m pretty buzzed, my feet are kind of cold.”
“I mean, you are wearing Converse in the snow,” I joke, but Ben isn’t laughing. He’s not smiling either. It seems that something is really eating at him, and worry is not a normal look for Ben. “I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Let’s see. Do I want to talk about being nervous to get married with my ex who happens to be my wedding planner, unbeknownst to my fiancé?” he asks sarcastically.
“Well, when you put it that way–” I shrug and start to get up, but then he keeps talking.
“It’s just that it’s moving so fast,” he goes on, and I sit back down.
“I mean, that is true. There’s a rumor that you were in another serious relationship not that long ago. The cold feet isn’t a side effect of being stuck on your last girlfriend, is it?”
I’m still trying to make him smile, and this time it actually works, though it’s only about a fourth of a Lacey smirk. Right now, I’ll take it though.
“No. I am sorry to say, Charlie, that I am not still hung up on my last relationship. As great as she was, she wasn’t a good fit,” he says.
“Oh, trust me, she knows,” I say. “But she also understands how crazy this all is.”
“I really do feel bad about it, Charlie,” he says.
“Charlotte,” I correct him. “Please? No one calls me that.”
“I know,” he says, leaning back against the wall.
“Do you love her?” I ask. “Like a forever kind of love?”
“Am I a shitty ex-boyfriend if I say yes?” he cringes.
“No, but you might be kind of a crappy fiancé to Holly if you say no. I mean, the clock is ticking, Ben…” I say, and he laughs a little.
“No, I love her. I really do. She’s beautiful and fun and adventurous and spontaneous…” he rattles off.
“So totally your type,” I nod.
“I don’t know that I have a type…” Ben argues, and I roll my head over to look at him.
“Well, we both know what your typeisn’t,so…”
“Oh really, and what is that?” he asks, turning his body to face mine.
“Less color-coded and sticky-noted,” I say.
“I liked the sticky notes,” he lies. “They reminded me when to take my multi-vitamins.”
I laugh at that, and for a moment we just sit there. He may not be my soulmate, but he’s easy to talk to.
