Page 147 of Crimson Promises
“See, this is why I don’t play games with you,” he grumbled. “Fine, I’m ready. Go ahead.”
“All right,” I said, connecting my hands to the ground beneath me. Bracing myself for the impact. “You told me Sara was one of the last people you let in. So since then, I’m assuming it’s been casual dalliances.” I let my words hang in the air.
“You’d be correct.”
“What is it that attracts you to someone? Or what is it that attracts you to those types of relationships? Aren’t you ready for something real?”
His eyes narrowed at my blatant abuse of the rules. I didn’t intend for the other questions to slip out, but they just did. I was desperate to learn more about him and the fortress he erected around himself. He was at an unfair advantage in whatever this thing was. He saw me grow up. I assumed there were very few things Bennett didn't know about me, whereas I know virtually nothing about the fallen angel except the small tidbits he’s offered me. I’ve collected and treasured each scrap of information and held it close to my heart.
He said nothing for a minute, and I wondered if he would refuse to answer. “I don’t know. I’m not usually looking for a woman to fit specific criteria. Don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate the beauty of a gorgeous woman, but that only goes surface deep.”
“If all you're having is something casual, does more than that matter?” I asked as a sneaky follow-up question.
He ran a hand through his hair.Good, I’m getting somewhere.
“Just because someone is pretty doesn’t make them a good person. I’ve shared with you some of what I’ve experienced. I find myself drifting towards those on the outskirts. Those women usually have a story to tell. Their beauty goes beneath the surface. I’m attracted to people of substance, women with flaws. I’m not looking for a relationship, but at least a conversation. For example, someone like Chelsea who is beautiful but thrives on being cruel to boost her ego is not someone who interests me at all.”
I sat there for a moment, letting his answer sink in.
“All of this just adds to your appeal,” I say finally. “Not only are you brooding and mysterious, but what others try to hide is what you want to see—the ugly truths that make us who we are. Careful not to let that secret out, or you’d have no endless amount of suitors.”
“I’m not interested in them,” he rolled his eyes.
But he never said he was interested in me, either.
Here was someone who valued flaws and saw them as something that made a person real. What would have happened if we encountered each other in a world where he wasn’t sworn to protect me? Where he wasn’t banished for standing up for what he thought was right? Or treated less than because of a class he never chose but was born into?
“What’s it like to have a father?” His question took me by surprise.
“You witnessed all of this, but it’s wonderful. He has been and continues to be a safety net. Stephen's protective, but he’s always trusted me to make my own mistakes and come to him when I need him. He never misses my phone calls and has excelled at trying to compensate for the role of two parents instead of one. He’s quirky and has a terrible sense of humor. He loves disco and all things 70s. He plays poker every week. He never missed any of my extracurriculars: every Friday after school, he would take me out to get a book to try and make up for all the shit that had happened at school. He’s my best friend and my hero." My heart was ready to burst at recalling what a fantastic dad I was privileged to have.
“You’re lucky. Stephen is a good man. You got a great one.”
“I did.” Affection for my dad flowed through me. “Was your father around for you?”
“No. Mom said he had to leave when I was young. No one ever heard from him again. I’m assumed he’s long dead by now.”
“I’m sorry, Ben.”
“Don’t be. Hard to miss someone you never knew.” He smacked his hands over his mouth after the words were already out. “I’m sorry, Aurora, it’s different. You know your mom wanted and loved you. It wasn’t her choice to leave.”
“I know,” I managed to choke out.
“Good, it’s important you do.” His mouth was set in a grim twist. “People like you and me wear their grief like a cloak. Never letting anyone close enough to let us feel that pain and loss. Others can sense it around us. It’s why they give us such a wide berth. Those of us who know what real tragedy is, not some fickle nonsense about not having the right jeans, when we learned what loss is we shed the innocence of childhood.”
“We sound pretty pathetic to me. I don’t want to never feel joy or love because I’m too scared for the pain it may or may not cause.”
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, Aurora, you learn through experience that it almost always ends in pain.”
“Almost not always.” In this moment between us, and after all we’ve been through thus far and everything that we still had to survive, I found myself unexpectedly grateful for all that I did have. To be here was enough. “Hasn’t there been anything here on earth that has given you happiness since being cast out of Heaven?”
As I sat beneath the star-strewn canopy of the night sky, a whisper of anticipation tingled through my veins, awaiting Ben’s answer.
Ben had opened his mouth to answer when it happened. A comet appeared like a fleeting messenger, its tail unfurling behind it like its own calligraphy. Stardust trailed in its wake, lighting up the obsidian tapestry of night.
Life could be as short as my mother’s or, like Ben’s, could stretch into varying lengths of forever.
For long moments after it was gone, we sat in silence, neither of us willing to break the trance of the sky’s song. I tried to calm the unexpected emotions that had stirred within me.
