Page 115 of If Only In Our Dreams

They curled up against him, murmuring sweet little apologies against his collar as Ben kissed their heads.

I thought he’d be mad at me.

But he wasn’t.

“C’mere,” he hummed, still looking exhausted and hot and amazing. “I only have two arms.”

I stepped out of the box, tripping, then righted myself before tumbling into Ben’s embrace.

“We won’t play Amontillado anymore,” Rosie promised, her sweet voice pressed to Ben’s throat.

“You can play,” Ben hummed. “But with an open box, please?”

“Of course.” I squeezed him tight, more than a little pleased when he melted into me. “I didn’t think.”

“It’s fine,” he said softly. “It’s fine.”

And itwasfine.

Because he was warm again, warm the way he always was. And despite the fact that I’d somehow fucked up—it was his reaction to that mistake that made it obvious what a very good, wonderful man Ben was.

Because he was patient.

And he was kind.

And he forgave me—even when I was stupid.

Later, in bed, Ben explained to me why he’d been so worried. Apparently, it wasn’t the safest thing in the world to be taped inside a box. Even one made with something as flimsy as cardboard. Something about air flow and cardboard dust particles, and allergens.

I’d never known that.

I’d always just figured cardboard was cardboard, you know?

And maybe it was.

Maybe it hadn’t actually been dangerous at all.

But to Ben…it had certainly felt that way. And I wasn’t about to write off his feelings like they didn’t matter, especially when it was easy to apologize for scaring him and promise not to do it again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Ben promised, when I did just that. He stroked a hand over my cheek, fingers curling in my hair. “I swear.”

“I know,” I agreed, because I did know. “But I’d rather not freak you out again, if I can help it.”

“Sometimes I get…” Ben shrugged a shoulder—something he’d only recently picked up after spending more time with me. “Sometimes all I can see is the worst case scenario,” he tried to explain. “I’ve been this way since I was a kid. But after medical school, and working as a doctor, it’s only gotten worse. Nowadays, I mostly see people for little ailments. Colds, sprains, the flu.” He frowned, eyes growing darker. “But when I was a resident at the hospital I’d see the most horrible…randomthings. Especially on the nights when I worked the ER.” I kissed his palm and his lips quirked up, the faraway look in his eyes fading. “I don’t think I’ve ever quite shaken the fear that something like that could happen to someone I love.”

“I’m a pretty tough guy,” I promised him, and Ben’s eyes crinkled.

“I know,” he agreed, pressing in close. “And most of the time, I can rationalize with myself. But I’ve been so…”

“Tired,” I finished for him. “You’ve been so tired.” It was easy to give him grace, to understand that he might not be functioning the same way he always did, while running on little to no sleep.

You should give yourself the same grace.

It was a random thought, but poignant.

“I’m so close,” Ben murmured, sliding in to kiss me slow and sweet. “Only the epilogue.”

“And then what?” I replied against his mouth.

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