Page 30 of The Best You've Ever Had

“You mean,wantedto. My mother never kept me from you. That was all you.”

“Look kid, I’m sorry. I know I messed up. I wish I could turn back the clock and be there. But you turned out okay. You look like you’re well. Right? You’re doing well?”

All I have are words to use as weapons. “You leaving is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Now I get to help people with deadbeat partners exactly like you. So, thanks for that.”

A woman walks around the corner, holding a box of supplements and placing them in my father’s cart. She has silver-streaked hair pulled into a tight bun and wears a vibrant, patterned scarf over her green puffy jacket.

I immediately spot the rings. Wedding rings. I wonder if she knows the truth. I wonder if she knows about his previous life, and about me. I shake off the surprise as I stare him down. A fire of molten lava rage grows hotter every second longer I look at him.

She must sense she’s walked into the middle of something, as she glances between my father and me, her eyes darting back and forth between us. “Do you two know each other?”

Silence stretches on, my father at a clear loss for words, and my anger closing in on me. His lack of an answer says it all. He can’t even admit that I’m his daughter. Years ago he claimed I was his world, and now all I’ve become is his dirty little secret.

As I stare him down, the practical stranger in slacks and a combover, my ears begin to ring. I’m torn between tearing hisworld apart by telling his new wife the truth, and running back to the safety of the car.

Internally battling what to do, an arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug. It’s Ben, grounding me while silently offering his support. We’ve been frenemies for as long as I can remember, but if anyone’s going to mess with either of us, it’s going to be the other. And his urgency to protect me makes it clear he feels the same way.

I swallow down my anger as I finally reply to the woman. “We used to know each other. But not anymore.” The woman stares back at me, confused and innocent to the destructive man beside her. So as I turn to leave, suddenly done with the conversation, I throw back a warning to her. “Just make sure he doesn’t leave you high and dry too.”

Walking away, with Ben practically holding up my body, we head straight to his car. I can hear my name called out from behind, but I don’t bother to even look back. My future is straight ahead, and I don’t need to be dragged down by the past behind me. If my father wanted to reach out to me, he could have at any moment during the last 5,475 days since he’s been gone. Instead he chose silence, so that’s my course of action for today too.

Ben gently helps me into the car and briskly walks to the other side. Without a word, he drives a minute down the road to put distance between my nightmare in slacks and me. When we finally park, he looks at me, with worry creasing his brows. “I didn’t even know he came into town anymore. Are you okay?”

“I’m great. Perfectly fine.” I try to put on my big girl voice, but my throat feels tight, and my clothes too warm. This encounter has pierced me like an arrow, finding a weak point in my defenses. My feelings are trickling out from the wound, even if I swear up and down that I’m okay.

Ben knows it. I know it. But I’m not ready to admit it.

“You don’t have to act tough with me. That would rattle anyone, even you.”

I stare at him, head held high, but with tears beginning to well in the corners of my eyes. If they fall, it will be the first time I’ve cried since that bastard left. I don’t want to give him that power. I don’t want to have daddy issues, even though Iamall sorts of fucked up.

He undoes his seatbelt, then unclicks mine, pulling me into his chest. “You deserve better than him.”

I release a shuddery exhale, trying to hold it together. Trying to focus on the warmth and smell of Ben, instead of the cold memory of my father. “I hate him. I hate him so fucking much.”

“I know. Me too.”

While I do hate him to my very core, he’s exactly where I got my temperament from. My mom is an angel, and my father is the devil. It’s why I don’t do relationships—I fear that the part of him I inherited will just crush another person, exactly as he crushed my mother and me. I was the one who had to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives and glue them back together when my mother was too distraught. I’ve seen firsthand the damage. I know the long term effects. It’s too risky for that dark speck of myself to continue the pattern of destruction.

But the feel of Ben’s arms still holding me tight, his hand tangled into my hair to cradle my head, makes me want so much more than casual hookups. If this is what it could be like 365 days a year, thenmaybeI would want it.MaybeI’d want someone to hold me on the rare days that my strength fades.MaybeI’d want to feel a love that surpasses everything else. To where it feels like it’s you and them against the world.

Pulling back, he gently swipes at the tears that have yet to fall, as if he could somehow take away the hurt. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Are you sure you’re okay?” His eyes dip to my mouth. He wants to kiss me. He wants to soothe myfrenzied thoughts and console me. But we don’t do that. At least we shouldn’t.

“I’m just like him, Ben.”

Defensiveness flares within him. Those dark eyes grow even darker. “You’re not. You’re absolutely not.”

“I am. It’s why I don’t do relationships. I’m exactly like him. Cold. Detached. An absolute asshole.”

“You’renotthose things at all. Okay, well, maybe youarea little bit of an asshole sometimes, but usually for good reason.”

I laugh, my voice rough with emotion, as he smirks and continues. “You face things head-on; you don’t run away from your problems like he did. You’re always there for the people you care about. Just because he left doesn’t mean you have that same capacity for abandoning others. Your self-awareness alone sets you apart from him. You’re not him. You’re unapologetically your own person.”

His thumb gently traces soothing circles on the delicate skin of my wrist as we stare at each other.

“I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Let me have it. Tell me the ‘but.’”

“There is no ‘but.’ Unless you count your sexy ass sitting in the seat of my car.” He winks at me, making me simultaneously love and hate him with his cringey one liners. “I know you like to act like you’re heartless. But it couldn’t be further from the truth. I’ve heard of all the good things you do—all the pro-bono cases, keeping the food pantry near your house stocked, the innate concern you have for those you love. I think you’ve just built a wall of armor around your heart so that it doesn’t get broken again. Someday, with the right person, you’ll let them in. And they’ll be the luckiest bastard in the world because you’re the best thing that could ever happen to anyone.”

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