Page 114 of If Only In Our Dreams

But hey! What was the worst that could happen? I’d just kick the box open if I got stuck.

Twenty minutes later, I could hear the girls giggling and whispering and the sticky sound of tape being smacked on the box I was inside. They were downright chipper, all ire forgotten.

“Can you breathe?” Jane double-checked, her voice muffled by cardboard.

It was dark in here, and I was hunched in a tiny little ball, but that didn’t seem to matter.

“I can breathe,” I promised, loud enough to make sure they could hear.

“I love this game,” Rosie told me, slapping another piece of tape on. Her evil laugh returned, and I choked on a laugh of my own.

It was only when the very top flap of the box was completely shut that we got caught.

I heard Ben’s feet enter the room and pause. He had heavy steps, probably because he was one heavy motherfucker—believe me, I know—dude smashed me into surfaces like ninety percent of the time I was with him.

“Where’s Robin?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

The girls giggled evilly.

It was getting a little sweaty in the box. And I didn’t want to freak Ben out, so I called out to him so he’d know I was fine. “I’m in here!”

“In where?”

“In the wall,” Rosie cackled.

“He’s in the wall!” Jane echoed, sounding slightly less evil than her sister.

“He’s in the…” Ben somehow sounded more concerned than before.

“In the box!” I answered.

“What?” Ben’s voice was flat, true confusion flooding his tone.

“Robin’s in the wall,” both girls told him unison. “We put him there.”

“Oh Christ.” And then the top of the box was being torn open, light was flooding in, and Ben’s concerned face was lingering right above me. “Robin, are you okay?” he asked. He was gorgeous as always. Different than normal because there were dark circles beneath his eyes, and his beard was longer than usual.

“I’m fine, baby,” I replied, leaning up to smooch him. “We were just playing.”

“In a box?” Ben’s voice went high.

“Yeah!” He didn’t kiss back. Which made it obvious that something was off. I frowned, popping the rest of the way out of the box like a fucked up magic trick, game forgotten. “Hey,” I hummed, following him when he retreated. My fingers curled in the hem of his sweater, giving it a gentle tug. “I’m okay.”

It was a testament to how tired Ben was that he’d been this freaked out by an innocent game. He was normally a very controlled person. I knew he had anxiety like I did—it would be impossible to miss it, even if he hadn’t outright told me about it and the therapist he’d been seeing since he was in school.

But…damn.

It hurt to see him so upset and to know that I’d inadvertently caused it.

This was way worse than the escalator.

“I’m sorry, Papa,” Rosie’s little voice was small and sweet.

“I’m sorry too,” Jane agreed, crowding around his legs.

“Me too,” I tacked on, still searching his gaze, noting the flicker of concern still there. He stared at me like he was searching for injuries, only relaxing when he saw none.

“It’s okay,” Ben’s voice was rough as he squeezed an arm around me and pressed a kiss into my hair. “It’s okay,” he promised again, kissing me one more time before leaning down to gather the girls up in his arms. “I just got worried.”

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