I wonder which living room they were in and who brought me up. The way Norah’s eyes turn down in the corner tells me I’ve tainted a memory when I wasn’t even there. My spirit ruined the damn thing all by itself. “Okay,” I state simply. “I wasn’t there, and I can’t speak for Ben.”
We walk toward the parking lot that wraps around the back of the tall brick building. “I still can’t believe you want to be my friend,” I say.
She shrugs. “You’re not the only one bad with friendships. I’ve been tied up in school and then building my practice most of my adult life. When Ben talked about you like you were some winning lottery ticket I figured I might get a piece of that, too.”
I tell her a lame self-deprecating joke to try to counter the lottery ticket comment and she laughs. “You look beautiful. Thanks for today. For what it’s worth. I’ve always been honest with you about the friendship with Ben.”
She grins, opening her vehicle door. “Oh, I know you have. Ben’s going to try to change your mind, though. Mark my words.” She gets into her large SUV and pulls away. She has a sticker of a dog paw with a red heart in the middle on the back window.
I drive back to Ben’s house, careful of the busy intersections while I’m lost in thought. Norah knows Ben well. Not that it complicates things more than they already are. It merely heaps more guilt on top of a tricky situation.
++++
I decide not to broach his pseudo breakup separation with Norah in favor of keeping the mood light and carefree. He took his turn in the bedroom getting ready, while I told him all he needed to know about who was going to be there and what I expect of him. According to the online RSVP site, Marcus won’t be in attendance.
“And his friends will leave us alone, I’m sure. I made you wear a suit so you have to act like a gentleman, not a hand for hire.”
Ben scoffs audibly. I make sure to keep my tone light. It bothers him when he thinks I view him in any other way than the way I’m supposed to see him. People change and our times surely have changed, but my perception of Ben is supposed to warp to meet his desires. It’s easy most days, because he’s always been Ben to me. It’s harder now that I’m living here and I see his demeanor change almost completely in the span of a work day.
While he’s changing, I pull out the dress and cut off the tags using a kitchen knife. Sliding off my shorts, sandals, and T-shirt, I heft the soft material of the dress over my head, careful not to mess up my hair or makeup. The plunging V neck dips to mid stomach, so I remove my bra and toss it over the counter to land on the sofa, my bed.
“You can dress in my bedroom,” Ben says, voice low. “You’re a woman. You like the kitchen, but some things should stay in the bedroom.”
Grabbing the knife I used to cut off the tag, I aim it at him in mock outrage. “Take it back.” I smirk. Cursing at him in one of the languages I know he’s fluent in, I make my way around the counter. A half grin pulls the side of his mouth up as he replies back something just as mean.
He raises one brow. “Or else what? You attack me with a steak knife? Sounds like my kind of Friday night.” It’s now that Ben finally lets his gaze dip to the rest of my body. His neck works to swallow as he takes in the neckline, or lack thereof. “Or maybe we can add something else to the agenda.” He licks his lips.
I set the knife down on the edge of the counter. Even I have limits on how far I’ll go to prove a point. “You like my dress?”
“It jogs a certain memory.”
Picking up the heels—something I almost never wear—off a barstool, I balance on one foot and then the other to slip them on my feet. “I didn’t have the rack to wear this back then, but I did buy it for the color.”
He’s watching my every move—studying every motion and movement my body creates. Sometimes it’s like I’m an art model on display for him. If I move just the right way maybe the spell will be broken, and he’ll be unable to remember what he’s desperately trying not to forget.
“You look pretty dashing yourself, Mr. Brahams. Thanks for coming with me. It’s the culmination of everything I’ve been working toward.” I bury the compliment in other mundane facts so I don’t have to feel awkward about giving it. He does look stunning, though. Now that he fills out a suit with broad shoulders and thick arms, I know no one is going to miss him regardless of what he’s wearing.
“I need you to know something,” Ben replies. “Something I want to say that has nothing to do with you, but it probably has everything to do with us.”
Sighing, I steel myself for more conversation I’d rather not have. “Can we chat on the way? I don’t want to be late. My face will literally melt off at midnight. Like Cinderella except more real. Like Courtney Love.”
He laughs and grabs his keys to lock the door.
“Norah wants to take a break from our relationship.”
I nod. “We talked today while she was helping me get ready for tonight. Talk about weird. It feels right, though. Being her friend. She understands us, Ben.”
“She understands how I feel about you, Harps. Not us. No one else can understand us.”
He closes his door to the truck and starts it up. “I need to know where we stand. It’s almost as if the stars are aligning right now in the sky we grew up under, to make us happen.”
Panic sets in. I’m not the type of person who destroys a relationship for the sake of my own feelings. I always put others before myself. “What are you asking?” My words come out in a rush of hysteria.
“It’s been a while since we last had this conversation and I’m dropping it into our space again. For your consideration. You don’t have to make any decisions tonight. I can tell you’re about to hyperventilate over there and I don’t want one of your tits to pop out in a panic attack. We’re not dressed for Jazzercise right now. I’m throwing it out there again. That’s all.”
He’ll throw it out there until the cows come home. Until we’re old and gray, and I’m finally brave enough to take what I want. “You aren’t officially broken up, though. Are you?” It’s a minor detail most people this in love would overlook in light of our situation. I’m wary—in unfamiliar territory.
He furrows his brows as his lips purse. “If you need me to make that more official than the current state, I will. This whole thing with Marcus has made me realize how important you are to me. I stare death down on a regular basis and I don’t bat an eyelash. When your life comes into question, Harper, it’s no contest.”
