* * *
For two weeks, we kept away from one another. We’d be polite and say hello if we passed in the hall or were in the same meeting.
Then we were assigned to work together on a project that, according to Bennett, would help us make our mark—something that would solidify our futures with the firm or wherever we went next.
It was for an outdoor shopping area, and our boss, Mr. Ewerdt, said he wanted to see what we could do together. As much as I dreamed of us being thrown together, I knew Bennett wasn’t in any frame of mind to pursue something with me. He was still wearing his wedding ring, for heaven’s sake. Regardless, a small part of me was excited to spend time alone with him.
A week later, we were due to present the following morning, and Mr. Ewerdt didn’t like what we’d come up with for the fountain area—the largest attraction at the shopping mall—and we had to scrap it and start over, so we had no choice but to work late.
The office had cleared out hours earlier. We sat at the long table in the design room, sketches in front of us, Bennett on his computer, his mouse clicking as he tried to show me what he was visualizing on the giant screen in front of us.
I pretended to understand what he was saying, but my mind was somewhere else. I had so many questions I didn’t have the right to ask. The number one was whether he still loved his wife. Every time I was away from him, I’d reprimand myself for still loving him, knowing he belonged to someone else. But when I was with him, all those talks about letting go and forgetting him disappeared from my mind.
“I’d like lilacs there,” I said, getting up from my chair. He moved the mouse to point at the area, but I said, “To the right.”
He still wasn’t understanding what I meant, so I got up from my seat and leaned over him, asking to take control of the mouse. I felt his gaze on the side of my head—not the screen—as I dragged and clicked the spot I was talking about.
“I moved out the night I found them.”
“This is where I want them.” I ignored his confession, unsure where he wanted this conversation to go.
Then his hand covered mine on the mouse. The second we touched, it was there again—that pull we never really buried tightening beneath the surface of our skin.
If we had any chance of keeping this professional, we needed to forget the past, forget he was going through a separation, forget the way our bodies were still drawn to one another.
“Bennett,” I said, pulling my hand out from under his. Stepping back, I hoped the space would clear my memory too—of those calloused palms that used to run across my body.
“I wasn’t a good husband,” he murmured.
I leaned against the conference room wall, and he swiveled his chair to look at me.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“She wanted to stay in California after college, while I wanted to go back to Willowbrook. The longer we stayed here, the more resentful I grew. Stopped putting in as much of an effort.”
I blinked at him. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I just want you to know… she’s not the villain in our story. Blame can go both ways.”
“It’s your business, not mine.”
He stared down at his hands. “I’m not sure that’s true.” His voice was low and unsure. He lifted his gaze to meet mine, and I swallowed to soothe my dry throat.
“Why?”
He tilted his head as if that was his answer. As if he thought I knew. But I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to hear his confession—that maybe he never forgot me either. I wasn’t going to be some rebound after his failed marriage just because I happened to be there.
We stared at each other for a long time, and the air between us crackled. I should’ve shut it down. I should’ve left the room—damn the presentation.
But my body betrayed me.
Because instead of walking out of that room, I whispered, “I can’t be your rebound.”
His breath hitched—the only sound in the quiet conference room. And had someone asked, I would’ve said that was all I needed.
My pulse drummed in my ears. I wrapped my arms around myself as if they could protect me from being hurt. His eyes didn’t waver from mine.
“We can’t do this, Bennett,” I said, stepping to the side and over to my stuff farther down the table.
