Page 90 of When Ben Loved Jace
It’s a seductive argument. I’ve got to get away from here. I can’t think clearly anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he says when I reach the front door. “It was fucked up, but I’d do anything to get you back. Even now. Just tell me how to make it right!”
“Never talk to me again!” I suggest before hurrying to my car.
I’m struggling to get it unlocked when he hits me with a parting shot. A fist would have been kinder than words he speaks, because they’re undeniably true.
“You wanted to believe the lie.”
My hand spasms, the keys falling to the ground. I turn around to face him in shock.
“You knew,” he says. “Some part of you must have.”
During breakfast. When he reminded me of how much pain I’d been in and I brushed it off. I didn’t question the relief in his eyes, or why he burned the note right after. I didn’t need to, because that’s when I knew. But I wanted him so bad. I still do.
“You’re right,” I admit, my voice barely more than a whisper, “but I can’t do this anymore. I hurt him, Tim."
He shakes his head. “That was all my fault. Blame me.”
“Ihurt him!” My chin trembles as I pound my chest. “Me! I can’t pretend otherwise. The whole time we’re together, it’ll always be there in the background—the price I paid. And it ruins everything.”
“Don’t say that!”
“It’s true. You don’t understand. I love you, yes. But I love him too.”
I stoop to pick up my keys.
“Benjamin…”
I can’t look at him anymore.
“Please don’t do this to me again,” he whimpers.
I finally get the door to my car open.
“I’m begging you,” he pleads.
I slip inside, desperate to escape before I give in to him.
“I fucking love you!” Tim shouts. “And I know you love me!”
I slam the door shut, unable to meet my gaze in the rearview mirror when I reverse down the driveway, because I’m too ashamed. I can’t blame anyone else. I’m done playing that game. This is all my fault, and what I did…
It was wrong.
— — —
Life goes on. Even when you don’t want it to.
Jace was right, of course. I confess my sins to my best friend, who is sympathetic, as always. She’s too kind to pass judgement on me, so I do it for her, condemning myself to joyless eight-hour shifts of slinging frozen yoghurt, my insides as numb as my fingers. I don’t dance around and sing like I used to. When not filling orders, I stare at the door, knowing that Jace will never walk through it again, and feel foolish for having thrown it all away.
When my parents come into town, I put my best foot forward, trying to be upbeat and personable. Why punish those who love me? I’ve done enough of that already. Allison and I go out to eat with her father and my family the night before we graduate. It’s a nice time. I do okay when preoccupied with such things. I’m willing to suffer when not, because I deserve this pain. I only wish I could take it away. From both of them. I sure left a trail of heartfelt destruction in my wake.
I’m a little apprehensive about attending the graduation ceremony, since Tim will likely be there. I go anyway. Allison made it very clear—repeatedly—that if I tried to bail, she’d never forgive me. I take solace in our names being among the earliest called. Tim has to wait until the end of the alphabet. So for us, it’s a relatively short experience. I get to go on stage first, and when I do, I ignore the audience, reminded a little too much of a high school talent show. If he’s out there, I won’t sing to him. Not this time. I cheer extra loud when Allison accepts her diploma. Then I bank on the universal law that dads love beating a crowd.
“You don’t want to stay until the end?” my mom asks in surprise after we discreetly make our way over to them.
“Think how much traffic there will be,” I say.
