Page 101 of Only Lovers in the Building

“I came close to a proposal,” she admitted, quietly. “It fell through. It’s my own fault. I was quick and cut him off at the pass.”

Ben pulled away and stared at her in disbelief. “The secrets are coming out!” he said. “A little white rum is all it takes.”

“It happened so long ago. I was twenty. It’s not technically a secret anymore. The statute of limitations has expired.”

And yet, Lily thought, the story had been too painful to ever share.

Ben leaned against the rail. “You know the rules. Tell me everything. Start from the beginning. Don’t leave out a single detail.”

“His name is Darren, and he was my first love,” she insisted. “We dated through college. Senior year, it was clear our lives were taking us in different directions. I got accepted into law school in the city. He had a whole life set up in the Midwest. It was my mother’s idea for us to get married—a graduation wedding. Can you imagine? She loved Darren. Once a month, he’d come over for Sunday dinner. It’s a big deal at my house. My mother makes creole rice and shrimp creole and any other creole dish she can think of. My father plays Caribbean music and drinks dark rum. Essentially, it’s nostalgia night.”

“Sounds nice,” Ben said tightly.

“It is nice.” Lily took another sip of water. “Darren is as American as it gets. He has his own traditions, yet he very much enjoyed ours. That’s rare. You’re from the corner of the Caribbean where everything is sultry and exotic. Everyone wants a part of it. Mine is a hard sell even for the most open-minded people. Growing up, I got teased for simply liking my mother’s cooking, her rice and beans, her spicy concoctions. I had to vet the kids I brought home.”

Ben nodded, encouraging her to go on.

“My mom thought he’d make the ideal son-in-law. Never mind that we were so young, our whole lives ahead of us, and not at all ready to settle down. I didn’t want to be anyone’s wife. My mother was coming from a wholesome place. Darren was a good guy, but I was sure I’d find another in time. The joke was on me, of course. After we split, I chased one wild rabbit after another. Where did that land me?”

“Here,” Ben said, in a soft voice. “With me.”

Lily scoffed. “You’re the wildest rabbit of them all, Ben.”

“In this analogy, I’m the tortoise, not the hare.”

“You’re a unicorn, compared to some of the guys I’ve dated.”

Ben was somewhat a unicorn: smart, sexy, self-aware, humble, and clever.

“I’m not such a good guy,” he said.

“You’re good to me,” Lily said. “Isn’t that all that matters in the end?”

“I’m not so sure,” he said. “Let’s ask your mother.”

“Let’s leave Mom out of this.”

“Okay,” he said. “I think you deserve someone who will make all your dreams come true.”

“What do you think I’m dreaming about?”

“A rich husband, a house in the suburbs, a couple of kids, a vice presidency or partnership at a company or firm, and all the iced coffee your heart desires.”

“You’re not too far off the mark,” she conceded. “Except for the rich husband. I’m comfortable, and I’ll probably inherit some money on my mother’s side. If you haven’t guessed it, my family is well-off.”

“Which is why I didn’t take you tailgating.”

“That’s not fair,” she shot back. “I’m not a snob. Do I look like a snob to you?”

“You may not be one, but you do look it.”

“Ben!”

“Don’t you remember that first night at the bar? You and your money clip?”

Lily shuddered at the memory. “Wearing cashmere.”

“Was it cashmere?” he said. “I’m not surprised.”