“This can’t be real. You hacked the system. You had to have. There was nothing in there about me. How did you know it was me?”
He laughs, his angled, perfect jaw tilting back a touch. “I’ll always know it’s you,” he says. “You’re back now.” Ben strokes the side of my face, his fingers a feather touch on my skin, but a heavy bowling ball to my soul. “I’ve missed seeing you.”
“Fate is a pretty superfluous word for you to use,” I say, straightening my thoughts. “Not a wordmyBen would use.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’m notyourBen anymore. I’m Mancandy,” he says, extending his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. What was your name again? Amour?”
“You want to start over?” I ask. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”
“Anything is possible. We aren’t getting any younger,” Ben says, looking at the ocean and then back at me. White hairs have started peppering his temples and sadness fills my heart for all of the years that have passed since we fell in love and did nothing about it. “Before you tell me nothing has changed in two years, I beg to differ. A computer matched you to me, and the statistics of that happening are a million to one. Don’t say no to the computer, Harper.”
“How do you know my name?” I smirk.
Ben slides closer to me. “You look like a Harper, that’s all.”
“I think a fresh start is the only way to make something as complicated as this work out, and I don’t have the first clue as to how to make that happen,” I admit, looking at him. Shaking my head, I go on, “I still can’t believe you wrote those messages. Well, I can and I can’t. I’m still looking for a dude in a red shirt.”
Ben smiles, but it’s sad. “I’m tired. I’m so, so tired. It doesn’t have to be complicated. You’ll agree to a fresh start? Something new and different? You and me?”
Biting my lip, I try not to get upset. I’ve pushed these emotions away for years and years. It was my armor. My security. My heart’s way of protecting what has never been a wise choice. I shake my head. “Our past, though. How? How do you overcome that? We’ll never forget that. Don’t fool yourself. It will always be there. How do you propose we make a fresh start?”
It’s now that a traitorous tear sneaks out of the corner of my eye. Norah and Robin. Marcus. The space between us and our friendship. Big pink balloons at airports. Almost kisses. First ones. Last ones. Then before that, stalwart friendship. Fights and games. Basketball. Push and pull. Give and take. Loss and grief.
Ben brings a thumb up and swipes at the tear. So many tears over this. Over us. “Funny you mention it,” Ben says, shifting in the chair next to me. His shoulder bumps into mine. “I have a proposition for you.”
Ben kneels next to the chair and that’s when I lose it completely. These aren’t tears of sadness and regret that have washed my face so many times in the past. They’re happy tears falling over a smile so bright it’s making my face hurt.
Ben shakes his head. “I’m going to keep this real short, Harp, okay?”
He opens the box to expose my great-great-grandmother’s engagement ring. It’s exactly the same as I remember. A piece of jewelry I’ve always admired inside my mother’s chest. Benny and I played wedding one day long ago and I stole it from her room to use. Ben almost dropped it down the air conditioner vent when he went to put it on my finger.
“Don’t want to drop it,” I whisper.
Ben nods, taking in a huge breath—a man unsure of the outcome. “One question, about our fresh start then.”
Wiping my eyes, I clear the pooling tears from my line of vision. I want clarity in this moment. I stay silent, waiting. Wondering if this is all one sick twisted joke. In my dreams this happened ten years ago.
“Now or never,” Ben says, removing the ring from the black velvet. “That’s the question.” Holding my left hand, he hovers next to my ring finger.
I nod. “Now,” I say. “Always now. Never never.”
Ben slips the ring on my finger, a perfect fit. I can’t take my eyes off his gaze to admire the ring because he’s looking at me with such a fullness that my heart aches. Not a happy ache either.
A finally ache. A lifetime of love culminating in one good decision.
A decision a computer made.
“Fate Ballet,” Ben says, eyes glassing over, arms pulling me into a strong embrace.
“Now,” I say once again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ben
So much time has been wasted. I can’t even call the decisions that kept us apart bad. Life kept us apart regardless of how much we wanted to be together. We aren’t wasting another goddamned second.
“What if you get called away last minute? What if you can’t make your own wedding, Ben Brahams?” Harper squeaks out underneath my body.
