Page 62 of Trial Run

Ben looked up at her, and she drew back at the expression of anguish on his face.

“Get him out of here. Please. I don’t want to scare him.”

She gave a quick nod, got up from her spot on the floor, and went to her son.

“Ben isn’t feeling good, but he’s going to be okay. We need to leave him alone for a minute, so he can have some privacy.”

Marco’s face screwed up with confusion. “We shouldn’t leave someone alone when they need help.”

“Sometimes, people need to be by themselves. I promise he’ll be okay.” She tried to usher Marco back toward the kitchen, but he slipped past her and ran upstairs. His bedroom door banged shut.

Ben struggled to his feet. He was unsteady, but better than he had been a few minutes ago.

“I need to go.” He scanned around the entryway for his jacket, found it, and yanked one sleeve on, then the other.

“Ben, please wait a few more minutes, until you’re more calm.”

“I’m fine.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“What happened? Is something going on at work? Do you need help?”

He drew in an unsteady inhale. “I guess you’ll end up seeing this anyway.” He thumbed open his phone and handed it to her.

The screen showed an article from the city newspaper’s weekend magazine. The headline read: “Local Doctor Back in Office, and in Bloom.”

Nell scanned the first few sentences.

Flowers are good for your mental health. Just ask local psychologist Ben Friedman, who is taking in-person appointments again following an extended absence. Social media posts showing patients with their flower arrangements brought a new focus on the clinic, which has been nominated for a national award in mental health care. Clinic patients were surprised and delighted by the floral deliveries, and the return of their doctor.

The article went on for a few more paragraphs—a feel-good piece about the clinic that would no doubt bring a lot of new patientsin. And it had devastated Ben.

Nell looked up at him, eyes widening with realization. “Your patients didn’t know. About you being gone.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I mean, individually, they knew they hadn’t seen me in person for a while. But I think most of them hadn’t made the connection that I’d been absent. Until the flowers.”

“But the article doesn’t say why you were gone. It doesn’t reveal any personal information.”

“I know. But people talk. They’ll know something’s wrong with me.” His head dropped. “I thought I had the situation under control. That I was back to normal, or at least close to it. But I’m not.”

“You don’t have to tell them anything.” A surge of protective anger washed through her. He’d fought so hard for the progress he’d made.

“I’m not better, though. Look what just happened.”

“You are better,” she said fiercely. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes, even if I’m the only person who knew what you were going through.”

His expression softened, looking at her with a wistful sadness. “You were the only person who knew, until recently. And you were so supportive.”

She didn’t like him using the past tense in that sentence. “And I’ll keep supporting you. You’ll get past this.”

He shook his head. “I should have known I wasn’t ready for a relationship. It was wishful thinking on my part. I just … wanted you so much. But I need to keep working on myself, until I’m all the way better.”

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “When I suggested the three-week trial run for us dating, I thought it was because you needed time to be sure, to be ready. I should have known it would be me who couldn’t do it.”

Nell’s hand flew to her throat. “Are you saying—”

She was interrupted by Marco running down the stairs. He was too quick for her, dodging past her legs and running up to Ben. He slipped something into Ben’s jacket pocket and ran back upstairs.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “What did he put in there?”

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