I can’t take any more of this. Before either of us can say something we’ll absolutely regret, I turn on my heel and leave.
“What happened,” Milly asks.
“Doesn’t matter. We’re going home.”
Milly
Ben’s silence lasts longer than the five-hour car ride home from Malton. It lasts for days. While I pack, he sulks and stomps around the house, never uttering more than a few words to me. It’s frustrating but I’m not about to push him for answers. If this is how he wants to spend my last few days in London, then he’ll be sorry once I’m gone.
I’ve also been researching ways not to go back to the States, and it doesn’t look good. It seems I’m unable to change my visitor’s visa to one that will allow me to stay indefinitely now that Ben and I are engaged. I absolutely have to return to the States.
Which means we’re both fucking miserable.
Just as I’m finishing up edits on an article, there’s a knock at the door. During the day, the building is pretty quiet, so visitors are unusual.
When I open the door, I expect a neighbor that’s locked out or a delivery person. Not Ben’s brother Alistair.
“Hello again,” he says in a smooth voice as he pushes past me into the flat.
“Hello. Please, come in,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
Alistair spins to face me. He and Ben share similar features. Dark hair, green eyes but Alistair is thinner, his features more angular. “I don’t plan on staying long. If my brother refuses to help me, he’ll be ruined. His pub will close, and he’ll lose everything. Since he’s so enamored by you, you need to convince him to sign the deal.”
My eyes narrow. “There’s no way I’m going to do that.”
“Suit yourself but when Benny’s business goes under, he’ll lose everything. And it will be all your fault.” Alistair waves a dismissive hand in front of him and makes a face like he’s just smelled something foul.
Before I can punch him right in the dick, he leaves. Bastard.
For the rest of the day, I pace and chew my nails, worrying over whether or not I should tell Ben about his brother’s visit.
Honesty is the best policy, I remind myself constantly.
It’s stupid to ruin a relationship just because some asshole tells you to, I tell myself repeatedly.
When Ben comes home after his shift at the pub and asks me about my day, I’m speechless. Of course, he needs to know Alistair showed up this afternoon and tried to pull some bullshit with me. But I can’t bring myself to tell him just yet.
“Just a boring day of edits,” I tell him, which is the partial truth.
“And what have you found out about the visa situation?”
My mouth tightens into a thin line. “The same. I can’t get the visa I need while I’m in country. I have to fly back to the States.”
“That’s such bollocks! I’m sure I know someone in Parliament who can pull some strings and if not, there’s always my family.”
“No!” Ben’s brow wrinkles with confusion. “I mean, it’s okay. I’ll go back home for a bit, get everything settled there, apply for the visa and when it gets approved, I’ll come back.”
“But you said that could take months.”
“Well, they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder,” I offer.
“Well,theyare a bunch of pricks who don’t know anything.”
Ben reaches out and pulls me against him. He smells like stale beer and soap, a strangely comforting scent because it’s so familiar now.
“I don’t want you to go back,” he says softly.
“I don’t want to go back,” I reply. “But there’s no other way around this.”
