“I’m not unhappy or anything. I just did it. One of my spontaneous moments, you know?”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, you’re not a spontaneous person.”

“Maybe I’m trying to be.”

“Maybe you’re trying to get a job there to be with Kevin.”

She didn’t respond right away. When she started to stammer, I cut in with, “If being there with Kevin will make you happy, then you should definitely consider moving there.”

“Really?

Yeah, Claire, really?

Mom was the one constant in my life after I’d been attacked. The thought of being without her made me anxious. But at the same time, I was twenty one, and being on my own was something I’d always aimed for eventually. If she wanted to live with Kevin where she was happy and had a better job, then there was no chance in hell I was going to stand in the way of that.

“Yeah,” I said, genuinely, “really. Keep me updated and let me know how your job interview goes.”

“Okay,” she replied with surprise. “I’ll let you know.”

We changed the subject and chatted about other things before I got off the phone to get some sleep.

I stayed up in bed, smelling the scent of Ben all over my sheets. I stared hard at my still phone, wishing he’d call. Or text me. Or do anything to remind me I wasn’t some afterthought he wouldn’t bother with again.

I got nothing.

Chapter Nine

On her hands and knees

The days passed by.

No word from Ben.

Every second was spent agonizing over our time together. Every minute that passed made my body ache for his touch. Every hour felt like a hundred eternities. And the nights… Don’t get me started on the fucking nights.

It was brutal.

At first I was anxious with anticipation. He said he’d contact me, and I waited impatiently for something to happen. I’d pulled out my phone I’d stored away and rebooted it, at first treating it like a foreign entity I had no clue how to use. Once I familiarized with it again, I bought a month’s worth of credit and let nobody know I was back on the grid. I didn’t want to wait around and get hit with a text that wasn’t from him.

Then I carried my phone like a nun carries her bible. It was my little salvation, breaking more holes in the darkness that nine months had shrouded me in and letting hope shine in.

But anticipation soon faded into confusion. In every way imaginable, I asked myself why he hadn’t reached out, until my sanity was on a decline. When my confusion dissipated, I felt anger.

How the fuck had I let a man control my emotions like this? It was humiliating. I was embarrassed of myself. Of my weakness. Of allowing someone in when they clearly hadn’t done the same. I’d been depressed before, sure. The scars had put me into hiding, but one night with Ben had me crumbling into an insecure mess that had me questioning my sensibility.

Stupid, shallow Claire. Never learning your lesson, huh?

He did what they had all done before him.

Used me. Discarded me.

Forgot me.

*****

I hated school on Wednesdays. One morning class followed by eight hours of waiting around in the library/school grounds before my dreaded night class was exhausting. It had me out of the house the entire day. By the time I got home, it was 10:30pm. An entire day sitting idle gave me busy legs, and so I expelled as much energy as possible by roaming the house well into midnight.

Moby played in the background as I did a sketch. I redrew Ben’s face – not because I was obsessing about it, but because I hoped drawing it would rid me of thinking about him. After all, it helped the first time around.

The second time would prove to be tricky. I added what I missed on my first sketch. It was more detailed by the time I finished, and seeing it look as close to a black and white photograph of him was a punch in the gut.

I was deciding whether to burn the sketch or give him devil horns when the sound of ringing broke through my concentration. I startled and looked down at the vibrating phone, lighting up with the words “PRIVATE NUMBER CALLING” on the screen.

My heart instantly accelerated.

It was him. I was sure of it.

I quickly pressed answer on the screen and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello,” I said, holding my breath.

“Hi Claire, it’s me.”

I spun around the room excitedly, nearly tripping over my feet.

He did it! He called!

“Hi,” I timidly said after I decided that not moving was safer for me right now.

“Hi,” he repeated with amusement. “How are you?”

“Good.”

“Yeah?”

“Good, yeah. And you?”

“Good.”

“Good.”

He chuckled. “So we’re both very good, then.”

I chewed my lower lip. Now we are. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for calling so late –”

“That’s alright,” I interrupted. “I don’t go to bed until late.”

“Yes, well, I’ve just finished up some work and I’m finally free.”

Just finished up work? At midnight on a Wednesday?

“Is work what kept you away?” I found myself asking, feeling that excitement ebb away a little when I remembered why I’d been upset.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been four days and no word from you.”

“Did you expect me to reach out sooner?”

I shrugged even though he couldn’t see it. “I would have thought, you know, that you’d strike while the wood is hot.”

“Iron.”

“What?”

He chuckled again. “Strike while the iron is hot, is the correct saying.”

“Right.” I smacked my forehead. Fucking idiot, Claire. “Well, you get what I mean.”

“Yes, I think I do.” He exhaled heavily. “I wanted to give you some space.”

“But giving me space for that long after what we did, you didn’t worry I’d lose interest?”

“Lose interest?” He paused. “Have you?”

“Well, no, but…”

“But what?”

I thought about it for a moment. Why was I pissed off again? Because he took four days to call me? Shit, that seemed bunny boiler kind of crazy, right? Oh, shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have acted like a drama queen and jumped to conclusions. He kept to his promise and contacted me, after all.

“So why have you called?” I asked, hoping he’d abandon the topic. I didn’t want to tell him I’d been going crazy, or debating whether to draw devil horns on his head just seconds before he called. That shit was padded-room type of psycho.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he answered softly. “I want to see you again.”

I rubbed my chest, feeling that thread pull tight around my heart again. “I want to see you too.”

“How about dinner tomorrow? Unless you have plans or that’s too short notice.”

“No, I have no plans, Ben,” I told him honestly. I was not going to be playing hard to get to a man I wanted beyond words. “You were the first person outside of Emily that I spent time with for… many months.”

“Yeah? Well, you too, beauty. So forgive me if I fucked it up by not reaching out sooner. I’m not used to chasing a woman, and I’m a little rusty.”

I smiled and my heart swelled. “You don’t need to chase me. I’m not running.”

“Good,” he whispered. “That’s very good.”

“Tell me when you’d like to pick me up and I’ll be ready for you.”

“Six o’clock. I’ll have someone pick you up, and I’ll meet you in the city.”

Uh, what? He wasn’t going to pick me up himself? “Okay,” I said anyway.

“Alright. So how was your day?”

“Long. I was at Uni all day. Night class and all.”

“What time did you get home?”

“10:30.”

“Do you drive? I saw a car in the driveway when I was there, but you hadn’t driven it that night.”

“That’s my mother’s car.” Might end up being mine if she decided to live in Melbourne.

“So how do you get home?”

“I take the bus home.”

“Really, on your own?” His voice went hard, and I detected the concern in it.

“It’s not unsafe or anything.”

“But you’re beautiful, and you’re riding buses at ten at night, alone.”

“I’m not beautiful,” I retorted. Not anymore. “I don’t get hassled or anything. Believe me, it’s safe, and I only walk a block home when I get off.”

Please don’t be like those overprotective men! Please, please, please!

“Alright,” he eventually said, though he sounded entirely unconvinced. “As long as you’re careful, and you don’t talk to strangers.”

I let out a laugh. “That’s how I met you.”

“Yeah, but you kissed me. That makes me different.”

I blushed. “True.”

In a curious, hushed tone, he then asked, “Have you ever kissed someone in similar circumstances before?”

“No.”

“So why did you kiss me?”

“We had this talk before.”

“I’m not satisfied with the answer.”

I laughed. “I’m sorry, but that’s the only answer you’re going to get. Unless you find a way to convince me otherwise.”

He inhaled sharply. “Are you flirting with me?”

I twirled my hair around my finger, grinning so wide my cheeks ached. “Maybe.”

“Hmm.” I heard slight movement on his end before he said, “Have you thought about our time together?”

Um, every single second of every single day. “Yes.”

“Tell me exactly what you were thinking.”

Images of the way he took me whipped through my mind. I shut my eyes and my body shivered. “I was thinking that I’d like a repeat to refresh my memories.”

“It wasn’t memorable enough for you?”

I resisted laughing again. “Maybe it needs to happen frequently enough for me to remember it.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

I rested my back against the wall beside my doorway and struggled with everything inside of me not to jump up and down like a kid at an amusement park. The happiness was all consuming.

“So what are you thinking right now?” he huskily asked, in that deep, hypnotising fuck me voice.

“I’m thinking…” I want you here now! I want you to fuck me! Hard and slow like you did before. Make me come twice and leave me breathless and begging for more of you. “That you need to stop talking to me because I have a date tomorrow, and I’d hate to be bad company because I’m tired.”

He was quiet for a few seconds before chuckling. “Right. I’m sure that’s what was on your mind.”

“Can’t prove otherwise.”

“We’ll see. I’ll leave you to it, then, beauty. Would hate to have a tired woman on her hands and knees tomorrow.”

Holy shit. Holy shit.

My breath escaped my lungs. I felt short-winded.

“By the way,” he said after I hadn’t answered, “you’re a blind idiot if you think you’re not beautiful. You’re exquisite. A work of art. And I can’t wait to look into those green eyes tomorrow and tell you that.”

Wow.

“Good night, Claire.”

“Good night,” I replied weakly.

He hung up and I stood still for an eternity and two seconds. Then I slapped my face.

Nope, I wasn’t dreaming.

Dazed, I threw myself back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

“You are so fucked,” I whispered to myself. “And you’re probably going to end up hurt. No one can be this happy forever.”

Yeah, but I was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Chapter Ten

Don’t be alarmed

After class early morning, Emily and I went to Harbour Town to peruse for some good deals on clothes. I tried on about ten million outfits, remembering the rush that came with looking good in something. It’d been a damn long time since I felt this alive being out with Emily.

I bought a tight, grey sweater dress and black waist belt to wear for tonight. It was modest but sexy, and seemed perfect for a dinner date in the city. Emily was clubbing again, so she stalked the shoe stores before buying three pairs of five inch heels. I wasn’t sure where she was going to store them back at her house.

“You better not throw them in my guest bedroom,” I warned her.

“It’s practically my bedroom now, so what do you care?” she replied flippantly.

“You might as well just move in then.”

She gasped, stopping in the middle of the shoe aisle to look at me with those blue doe-eyes. “For real?”

“Mom might be moving to Melbourne, and I can’t be in that house alone. Frankenstein needs a minion, right?”

She frowned at me. “Don’t call yourself that, and why does Mama Landon want to move away?”

“Kevin.”

“Well, he can get his ass over here then! She’s the one with the family.”

“He bought a house over there.”

“Is she going to sell yours?”

“No way.”

Mom bought our house outright. It had brought her joy after years of heart ache. She would never let it go, even if she moved to another state.