19
KT
I glance into the back seat and find that Violet has finally dozed off like her sisters. When I return my gaze to Ben, his mind is still off in the ether somewhere, his expression thoughtful but grim. The idea that he might not have found the marina and the boats as captivating as I do is a crushing thought.
There’s only ten minutes left of the drive, and I know as soon as we get home and the girls wake from their late nap, rested and excited, crazy time will ensue. So I reach for the radio and lower the volume so I can talk quietly with Ben.
“What’s going on in your head?” I ask. “You’re struggling with something.”
He tilts the rearview mirror to look at the girls, then refocuses on the road. He shakes his head with a one-shouldered shrug and sighs. “I’m still trying to get my head around it all.”
“Is the cat too small? Does it make you claustrophobic?”
“No, actually, I really liked the cat.”
I wait, but he doesn’t go on, and his jaw is ticking. I feel my walls go up, something that’s never happened with Ben before.
“Are you thinking our idea won’t work for the girls?” I think back to the moment Ben told Violet I was going to give her sailing lessons for her birthday and how excited she was. Ben called it the proverbial birthday-pony reaction. “I know their excitement today might not translate into the long term, but—”
“That’s not bothering me. I know them, and I can tell by their excitement today, they’d all be thrilled with the idea.”
That means it’s Ben himself who’s having the issue. My heart sinks a little lower, and my desire to get to the bottom of his concern fades.
“We talked about everything except how you leaving will change our relationship,” he says.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean that we’ve talked about dates we can meet up for a short window of time, but not about how you’ll live your life in between.”
“I’m going to be winging it, like I told you.”
“Not professionally. Personally.” He takes the freeway exit toward town. “We’ll be apart most of the year. I guess seeing you with Jaime reminded me of just how many men out there may still want you, not to mention new men you meet along the way.”
I have no idea how to address the second issue, so I go after the first. “There’s nothing between me and Jaime but friendship. We were together once, years ago.”
His jaw ticks faster, and I’m beginning to feel like there is a fuse burning, one leading to a bomb. “I’m not holding past relationships against you,” he says, “but I’m doubting my ability to live with this arrangement unless I know for sure we’ll stay exclusive.”
Stay exclusive? The phrase jolts me and raises my hackles. My first instinct is to hit back, tell him we were never exclusive. Chloe would tell me that my defensiveness is a signal that I’m blocking the gifts of the universe—energy, love, opportunity, whatever the hell it is her precious universe is trying to send me. She would tell me that this is a trouble spot inside me that will keep me from living a full life if I don’t deal with it. But I certainly don’t have what I need to deal with it at the moment.
Ben makes a few turns until he’s on the road to the Wildfire marina and his house, and I’m biting the inside of my lower lip to keep the creeping anxiety from spreading.
“I don’t have any desire to see anyone else,” I tell him. “And I haven’t seen anyone but you since I’ve been in Wildfire. It’s not like I’m sleeping around.”
“Not now, but you’ve also had a professional desire to maintain a good reputation, which won’t be in play once you leave here. And you’ve freely admitted that’s been your preferred way to live—uncommitted. I guess I need to know how you expect to live once you leave. When I bring the girls to see you, am I just going to be one of many guys or the only guy?”
Fuck, I don’t like where this is going. Just like in Niue, my crystal-clear waters are turning murky, signaling a storm. And, dammit, I don’t want a storm. I want smooth waters. I want peace. But I feel like he’s trying to squeeze me into an uncomfortable, unfamiliar mold.
“I’m not leaving for months,” I tell him. “Why is this an issue now?”
Ben sighs and turns into his driveway, reaching up to tap the garage door opener. “I’ve got kids who love you, Kat, so it’s an issue I have to think about in advance.” He pulls into the garage, shuts down the SUV, and meets my gaze. “They’ve already lost one mom. I’d like to be able to look into the future and be reasonably sure they’re not going to lose another.”
Mom? Mom?
Jesus Christ, this just got very real. And more than a little terrifying. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t feel like it would be honest to promise you something that far into the future. As far as staying physically safe, I’ve already told you about all the security measures I take on the boat. Plus, Jaime said he’d come on the first leg of my first trip, which I don’t think is a bad idea. He can help with my transition to a new boat.”
“Whoa.” He puts up a hand and looks at me like I’ve got pansies growing out of my ears. “What?”
“What what? We’re friends. Friends sail with friends all the time. People are always hopping rides to the next destination.”
His gaze is fiery angry. He may not blow up often, but I’m pretty sure I’m about to witness one of his explosions. He climbs from the car and slams the door so hard, I flinch and look back at the girls. They’re still completely out.
Ben is standing with his back to the car, hands on hips, head tilted down like he’s staring at the floor in thought. I give it a few long moments, hoping that anger was just a flash in the pan. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to fight, don’t want to be at odds, don’t want the mess. I really just want to take Ben inside and make him forget all about other men and the time we’ll be apart.
He shakes his head, clearly having some kind of argument with himself.
I reach for the door handle and slide out of the car. My stomach aches like I’m getting the flu.
He turns toward me, arms lifted to the sides before they fall again. “Do you even see why this is a problem for me?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “It would be like me reconnecting with a woman I had an affair with in medical school and allowing her to not only stay with me here,” he says, gesturing to the house, “but sleep in my bed. Would that be okay with you?”
“Jaime and I didn’t have an affair, we had sex. Once. And he’s not going to be sleeping in my bed.”
“We’ve had sex twice,” Ben says. “What does that make me? A good friend?”
His sarcasm stings. “That’s not—”
“And I saw the size of that catamaran. There’s no conceivable way for you to avoid each other if you’re living on it together. I saw the way he looks at you, Kat. If you’re within reach, he’s going to touch.”
I blow out a breath. My stomach feels as tight as if it’s tied in a dozen knots. Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t know why. Is it the conflict? Is it the fear that I’ve hurt him? Or am I afraid of losing him?