Page 30 of You Will Never Be Me

I ask as I drive to Alhambra and park outside another of Ben’s open houses. I’m meeting a friend. You can’t judge me. There is nothing wrong about me and Ben being friends.Except you had years to become friends. The entire time, Aspen was pushing you two to become friends, but you kept rejecting it—kept coming up with reasons to hate him. And this whole time, the real reason was because you were jealous of him. Because you saw Ben as the person who had come between you and your best friend. And now that that said best friend is out of the way, you see Ben as—what? Fair game?

I shake off the thought, rumpling my soft waves as I walk up the front steps of the house. Kindly shut the fuck up, please, mind. I’m only here to view a house. Because now that my social media accounts are booming, it’s wise to be looking for a home to invest in. I can’t live in a one-bedroom apartment with my baby forever.

Ben looks surprised to see me, but a delighted surprise, not an “Oh god, what is she doing here?” surprise. At least, I hope it’s not that kind of surprise. He excuses himself from the handful of viewers he’s chatting with and strolls toward me with his hands inside his pockets. It’s a disarmingly adorable move, and I find myself shifting from one foot to the other, trying to present to him my most attractive angle.Stop that. He’s your best friend’s husband.

Well, ex-best friend.

“What brings you to this side of town?” he asks with a smile that says:I’m glad you’re here.

My insides heat up.Careful, Mer. You are playing a dangerous game here.Shut up, shut up. “Well, I heard that there’s an open house being held by one of LA’s up-and-coming real estate agents, so…”

“Up-and-coming, huh?”

I give a playful shrug. “So I heard from the grapevine.”

Ben laughs. “It’s great to see you again, Mer. You looking for something for you and Luca?” He gestures at the house, which is bigger than the last one I saw. “This one is a bit too big for just the two of you, I think.”

Something in the way he says it both stings and excites me. “Who says it’s just for the two of us?”

Ben’s eyebrows rise. “Oh? Is there a new guy in your life?”

Forget my cheeks, my entire face feels hot. I turn away from him and pick up a brochure from the kitchen counter. “I mean, I’m not saying no. But I’m not saying yes either.” I busy myself with flipping through the brochure. Luckily, Ben is distracted by the other viewers who have just finished their tour of the bedrooms. While he chats with them, I take the chance to nip into the bathroom and check my reflection.

I definitely have more makeup on than usual. My lips are fully plumped up and are practically begging to be kissed. The sight of them, so much more pillowy than usual, makes my stomach curdle with shame. Again, the million-dollar question:What am I doing?

“Mer, you still here?” Ben calls out from down the hallway.

“Yeah,” I say quickly. I swipe my hair away from my face and come out of the bathroom.

The absence of the other viewers is painfully palpable. The entire house is so quiet that I can hear every sound we’re making. Ben leans against the counter. “Cookie? They’re fresh out of the oven.”

“No, thanks.” I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. There’s a stiff pause as we both look at each other and grope about for something to say.

“Do you want…a tour of the place?” Ben says at the same time as I blurt out, “She got too big for me.”

We both freeze. I wonder if that was the wrong thing to say, if he even heard it at all over the sound of his own voice, if I should take it back, if—

Then Ben nods. “Yeah.” He takes a deep inhale, holds it for a few seconds, then sighs, long and hard. “She got too big for me too.” He pulls out one of the chairs at the kitchen island and gestures for me to take a seat.

I do so, and Ben plucks a glass of wine from a row of glasses he’s prepared. He takes one for himself, and we clink glasses. I sip slowly, wondering which of us is going to go first.

“I have to say, I never saw it coming with you two, though,” Ben says after a beat. He regards me over his wineglass, his gaze appraising me with obvious approval.

The wine goes down cold but warms up my belly. Or maybe it’s the way Ben is looking at me that’s getting me all heated up. “Yeah, me neither. I really thought she was my ride or die.”

“You wanna know something ridiculous?” Ben says.

“What?” I lean closer.

“I was always jealous of your friendship.”

I nearly snort my wine out my nose. “No way. I was jealous of your relationship!” I want to swallow the words back as soon as they’re out. I shouldn’t have said that. That sounds so pathetic and childish.

But Ben’s expression softens, as though I didn’t just say something unbelievably petty. He lowers his eyes and strokes the rim of his glass with his index finger. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I always got the feeling that I was in the way of your friendship.”

I shrug. “You sort of were, in the beginning. But then I saw how good you are for her.”

He smiles bitterly. “I don’t know about that. I doubt Aspen sees me that way. Lately, I just feel like I’m a hindrance to her as she blazes down a path to conquer the world.”

---