Page 139 of If Only In Our Dreams

“And we took him to the aquarium,” Miles laughed, eyes crinkling. “He spent the rest of it buying stuff from the gift shop.”

“They had a sperm whale,” Bubba pointed out—like the fact they had a whale named after cum meant he had to buy it. “I bought two.”

I had no doubt that the second whale had been given to Jeremy.

This whole conversation was weird—but not in a bad way.

It was…enlightening to know that Belleville was invested in Ben and my relationship. Certainly explained all the “congratulations” that had been thrown my way lately. It was different from the attention I got anywhere else. It really felt like people here wanted…thebestfor us—for me too. And whileeveryone was certainlynosy, they were all also well-meaning. Like they cared, even though they didn’t have to.

And it wasn’t like when we’d been kids—the fake pleasantries that had been handed out like candy in the little town where we’d grown up in North Carolina. These people were genuine. They said they cared, because they did. They said good morning, because they wanted your day to start off right. They said congratulations because they were glad that you were happy.

They weren’t like our mom.

Not at all.

Still though, even Belleville’s nosiness couldn’t distract me from the fact that Ben, as early as when we’d first hung out, hadliedto me. Had pulled together a fuckingOcean’s Thirteenof his own just to take me sledding. I still didn’t get why he hadn’t justtoldme he wanted to take me.

Except…that I did.

Because me at that time would’ve run so fucking far and fast he never would’ve seen me again. I’d been ready to bolt, even though what I really wanted was to spend as much time with him as possible.

It’s why I’d always found a way to him. Why I’d been full of excuses as I wormed my way into his life, one awkward encounter at a time.

I maybe hadn’t been ready then. To admit that I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything else, in all my life. But I could admit that now, in the privacy of my heart—with the snow and wind blowing chilly—and the people I loved most in the world giggling because they wanted to see me happy.

Finding out about Ben’s secret had to be the sweetest fucking thing I’d ever learned. In myentirelife. It made me wonder just how many random little things Ben had done to make me happy. How many hoops he’d jumped through, just to see me smile.

Did he even like going shopping? Or the Christmas Market? Or the movies? He didn’t like crowds, didn’t like places that felt overstimulating. The answer hit me like a slap to the face. It didn’t take a genius to come to the obvious conclusion that Ben had done all those things because he loved me.

No one hadevertreated me like that before.

No one.

My heart hurt.

“Hey,” Miles sobered, reaching out to give my shoulder a squeeze. “You okay?”

Normally he double-fisted the wheel like he was trying to strangle it into submission—so the fact he took his hand off the wheel meant a lot.

“I…didn’t know.” My voice broke, and Miles squeezed me tighter. “That he’d done that. The sledding thing.” All the other things too, though I didn’t say that.

The light turned green and off we went. Miles removed his hand, and I missed it the moment it was gone.

Everything felt different now.

Leavingfelt different.

I’d said my goodbyes to Ben and the girls—as briefly as I could, because I hated goodbyes. I’d promised I’d come back to visit when my schedule permitted it, and I’d meant it. Ben and I hadn’t broken up. But it felt wrong, leaving—wrong in a way it’d never felt before.

I was running in the wrong direction.

Snowflakes blurred by, and my heart stayed somewhere behind us, in the dark—stuck in the snow.

I was supposed to be spending Christmas with them. I could feel that now. I was supposed to be with them when they opened the presents I’d bought them. We were supposed to be together, like the families I’d seen in Christmas movies growing up.

And yet…here I was—speeding off toward the airport and the chilly, bare apartment that awaited me. To a concert I didn’t want to perform at, for people I didn’t care about, to feed a career that didn’t feed me back—not anymore.

My contract renewal was going to happen after the concert was over. Nancy had already drafted it up. All I needed to do was sign. It would be years of tours. Years of money. Years of traveling the world, of adoring fans, of padded pockets. And it should’ve made me happy—seeing as for the longest time this was all I’d ever wanted.

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