Page 13 of Let Me Love You (Excess All Areas 5)

Zoe stepped forward and hugged her.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Alex said sweetly, pulling the two of them in for a tight hug she really needed. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’ve missed you all too. But it’s…”

Alex nodded without her finishing the sentence. “These things often are.”

Zoe slipped beneath Alex’s arm as they left the hospital. Being around Ben so much, it was impossible to not miss spending time with Alex too. He’d always been like the brother she wanted, instead of the overbearing ones she had.

The ones who, like her father, thought Asher walked on water.

Maybe this was why Asher worried about her being around the band so much. An hour ago, she was ready to wish Asher's safta a happy birthday, and now she was doubting him.

Even though he was perfect. Their goals and ambitions aligned. He didn’t want children yet. Neither did she, with so much in her career left to prove, but he wanted them eventually, just like her. Their families meshed. They both kept a kosher home as best they could. Not using electricity on Shabbat was a tough thing to figure out with NHS shift patterns, but she figured saving a life probably balanced things out on her ledger.

It was impossible to keep her balance when the whole band and the women she loved so much were all there. It was unfair to stack Asher and his family up against all that history. It would be impossible for him to win.

Because if loving Ben and his family was all it took, they’d be together. She’d wanted Ben to see her, to love her, while knowing her faith would prevent her from marrying him.

She’d tempted him. And herself.

One regrettable incident involving black lace underwear that had ended with her wrapped in a white hotel robe agreeing that it was a moment of stupidity. Because Ben was able to remind her that there were too many things she couldn’t give up to be with him forever. And it was unfair of her to offer her body to him when she would never be able to offer him forever.

Everybody drifted away until it was just the two of them. “I’m so sorry, Ben.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Ben placed his hands on the top of his head. His hair was a mess, a sure sign he’d slept on his damp curls without worrying about what they’d look like. It was always frustrating just how good his hair looked, even when he didn’t take care of it.

“Of course.”

“Can stress cause it?”

She placed her hand on his hip. “Ben. Don’t go looking for causes. It could be a million and one things. Nan was overweight because she loved cooking and cake and, at nearly eighty, I don’t blame her. It could be salt consumption or lack of exercise. Or stress. Or bad luck with genetics. Or just being old.”

“She saw the press and was mad.”

“How are they?” she asked, placing her palm on the ribs she’d seen him favour. Ribs she’d seen shirtless. She thought about the tattoo appointments she’d sat through with him while he’d had his painful chest ink done. His skin was warm, familiar. His muscles ripped and firm beneath his T-shirt.

“Ache like a bitch. I showed up at Nan’s, hungover as fuck. Smelled like a brewery after downing whiskey on the flight. She was worried about me, Chaya. Insisted on washing my clothes while I showered, was making my lunch when I found her. I caused her nothing but worry from the moment I showed up at her house. If I hadn’t been there, she would have been fine and—”

“Stop.” The words were firmer than she intended. “Strokes don’t work quite that way, especially if this is a blockage. Don’t do this to yourself, Ben. This isn’t your fault.”

Ben looked away, a sure-fire sign that he didn’t believe a word she’d said.

“I’m serious, Ben. What happened to Nan isn’t your fault or whatever else is going on in your head. And you need to sit down and rest. Get some ice in an ice bath for those ribs.”

His eyes always reminded her of the dark clouds that rolled in just before a thunderstorm. Grey, with the faintest hint of purple. Moody like the weather. When they focused on her intently, her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. “I’m fine, Chaya. I asked Asher to wait outside,” he said, tipping his chin in the direction of the hospital waiting room. “But I hope you’ll come with me to wait with Nan.”

Chaya looked in Asher's direction, then back to Ben. “It’s his safta’s ninetieth birthday. She’s frail and unlikely to make it to her next one. We left almost as soon as we got there. And my family were all there for the end ofPesach.”

Ben’s face hardened. “Well, don’t let me stop you from getting back to happy families.”

“It’s not like that, and you know it. Of course I came as soon as I got the message.”

He ran his hand over his jaw, the strong, sharp one she’d often stared at. “I’m sorry. Everything about this is just awful. Nan. This.” He gestured between the two of them. “I don’t know how we became this, Chay. After everything we’ve been through. I never thought there’d be a day in my life without you in it. How did we end up like this? Barely talking. Awkward with each other. I hate it.”

One of the tears that had been threatening to fall since the moment she’d heard about Nan spilled over her lid. Before she could wipe it away, Ben did, cupping her cheek gently.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, Chay,” he said hoarsely.

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