Page 19 of Let Me Love You (Excess All Areas 5)

Chaya wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Bye, Nan.”

“Come on, I’ll walk you out. You need to get home for Shabbat before dusk.” Ben took her hand and didn’t let go until they were next to her car. As he had with Nan, he leaned forward, kissed her forehead, and then stepped back. He looked harrowed, as if this were causing him as much pain as it was her. “Just be fucking happy, Chaya. If it hurts this bad, one of us should be.”

Ben let himself into his house and kicked the door shut behind him. The mirror on the wall rattled. The mirror Chaya had picked up for him at a car boot sale while she’d been thrifting for a chair for her student house room. It had cost her a fiver, and him fifteen quid in paint spray filler and hooks. But she’d been convinced it was just what he needed in his hall.

He dropped his keys into the little dish on the shelf beneath it, placed his sunglasses next to it, took off his jacket, and hung it on the hook.

And then, he looked at himself hard in the mirror.

Thirty-one years of age, and wrapped up in Chaya, one way or another, for over fifteen years.

And now, he’d finally severed it. Not because he wanted to. But because he could see how much hurt Chaya was in. And he’d carry the weight of it for her to not be as troubled as she was.

But now, in the safety of his own home, he could admit just how much that cost him.

It was way worse than sore ribs from a fall off the stage.

And what did life without her in it mean?

There were two jackets of hers on the hooks next to the door. Hell, he’d even begun to think of the four hooks as two for him and two for her. A pair of sunglasses sat on the shelf from last summer. He kept telling her to take them with her every time she left the house, but she’d always laugh and never had. He grabbed the coats and glasses and took them into the living room, where he put them on the sofa.

In the kitchen was a large metal juice press she used to hand squeeze oranges. That should go back to her.

As well as the slogan mugs that had appeared over the years.Fuck off,I’m A Ray of Fucking Sunshine, and the one she’d bought for him. It saidUnt, but from the right angle, the handle provided the letter ‘C’.

While he was on a roll, he went upstairs and gathered everything together. Clothes in his closet. Toiletries in his bathroom. Make-up on the window bottom in the upstairs hallway that she always said had the best natural light.

When he’d collected all her belongings, he grabbed a handful of carrier bags and packed everything up and placed it by the front door.

He’d broken up with girls before, but nothing hurt quite like this.

He felt sick to his stomach.

Pushing through, he grabbed his phone.I packed up your things. They’re in the hallway. Feel free to swing by and get them sometime this week. B

He hit send before giving himself time to process it. She’d probably not see it until tomorrow because ofShabbat.He glanced outside, where it had gone dark. Her phone would be unplugged in the kitchen drawer to avoid the temptation to use it.

Then, he trudged back upstairs to the shower.

He stripped his clothes off and stepped beneath the steaming spray, letting the heat warm his chilled bones. What the fuck had he done?

The right thing.

Was it?

He thought about the way Chaya had looked at him in the hospital, like he was speaking a strange language. Like she was waiting for him to give her the solution to it all.

By her car, the breeze had caught the hair around her face, and she’d looked up at him with lips so damned full and perfect.

And then, he was hard, even though thinking about her when he’d just drawn a line underneath who they were felt skeevy as fuck. But his dick didn’t seem to care when it came to her.

Palming himself, he placed his hand on the tiled wall in front of him. White tiles Chaya had picked, and he’d installed, even though he’d been thinking of grey ones. She’d helped. In yoga pants that showed every curve of her exceptionally fine arse.

And they’d laughed. All fucking day. About everything and nothing.

He squeezed his dick, easing himself towards a release. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes to the slide show of Chaya. In the daringly transparent black dress that she’d worn to one of her university balls, to the short red dress she’d worn with sneakers one summer’s day when they’d taken a walk around Tatton Park.

To the way she looked in boy short pyjamas.

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