Page 45 of Let Me Love You (Excess All Areas 5)

Chaya had known most of her adult life. “I do. I get why fears of assimilation and intermarriage are a threat to the survival of the Jewish faith and nation. You want me to marry orthodox because I am, so your grandchildren continue to be. I understand your worry. I feel it too. But I also struggle with the idea that, as a human being, I am supposed to feel bad for loving the person I want to. That I’m supposed to live my life without Ben. I’m going to raise my children, should I be able to have them, as Jewish, regardless of what definition of Jew they are. I’ll work hard, study hard, and pray hard. I’m already a doctor. One day, I’ll be an amazing surgeon. But I’ll always need to make allowances to my faith to make that work. Whether it is working the Shabbat, like today, or whatever. And I know you believe that somehow, if I marry a non-Jew, my kids will be somewhat watered down in their Jewish identity, but they won’t. Because they’ll have you and my brothers, and this family, and me.”

Now, tears stung. She hadn’t shed a single one for Asher, but the disappointed look on her parents’ faces was enough to tip her over the edge.

Her father slammed the table with his palm, making her jump. “So, you’re leaving a good Jewish boy, a surgeon, from a nice family, for what? A man who gets so drunk he falls off the stage and makes a fool out of himself. Is that the kind of man you want? A man who shames you?”

Chaya tried to calm herself. Tried to slow her breathing to ease her stomach and quell the rising anger. “You’ve always chosen to see the worst in him, Dad. You forget he’s the man who saved my life. You forget he’s the man who carried me out of that warehouse after eleven days of being terrified.”

“You were eleven. He was nearly sixteen and only in the warehouse because he was looking for a place to have underage sex with his girlfriend.”

“That’s all you want to see. He’s also the man who held my hand until you got there, who gave me his prized Man City hoodie because I was cold, and the one who texted me through sleepless nights when nightmares came. He’s fixed my car every time it broke, brought me food when I was revising, and made me get out of the house when my finals made me feel like I was the worst student in the world. Did you know he was at his nan’s, fixing her dripping tap, when she collapsed? Oh, and got her to the hospital quickly so she could get treatment. I had a car accident yesterday and I called Asher, but he never answered, so I called Ben. He came in two minutes, despite how much all this has affectedhim. And you are being so hypocritical because you told me no one was perfect. Not me. Not Asher. Well, you know what, that extends to Ben too. And you. Because you are choosing to only see one side of him.”

Her father stood. “If you are entering into a relationship with Ben, you need to leave this house.”

“Issur.” The way her mum called out her father’s name was a wounded cry. He’d gone too far, and they all knew it.

“No, Anna. Chaya isn’t our daughter anymore.”

8

Twenty-nine days later, Ben looked around the large room in the backstage area of Madison Square Garden. The band were subdued, a function of pure exhaustion after a month on the road. After the two-night run they were about to start, they were on a red-eye private jet home.

Home to Chaya. Hopefully.

They’d adhered to the rules. They hadn’t spoken. But he’d been quietly kept informed. Titbits from Matt and the rest of the band through their partners. He knew she’d broken up with Asher, that she’d started a twenty-eight-day cleanse and fallen off it on day four because she loved overly salted chips too much. She’d gone on a CrossFit bender, roping Willow in, and her parents weren’t speaking to her.

He’d picked up his phone to message her a thousand times. So much so that he had a note file of all the things he wanted to tell her and share with her and get her reaction to when he saw her.

Assuming she wanted to see him.

And that seemed to be the only thing the girls weren’t willing to share. If Willow, Zoe, Cerys, or Iz knew what was on Chaya’s mind, they weren’t telling their boyfriends.

But Ben had started to work on himself too. He’d not hooked up with anyone since his and Chaya’s conversation. While they weren’t officially a couple until she told him he was her choice, the very idea of sleeping with anyone who wasn’t Chaya made him itch.

Plus, it had given him time to think through what sex meant to him beyond a release. It meant intimacy. Trust. Respect. He wanted more of that.

Which meant he’d jerked off in the shower, in hotel cotton, and even his bunk in the tour bus more times than was probably healthy. He was a guy with a high sex drive, and hopefully, the woman he wanted more than anyone else in the world would soon be his.

And the very thought made his dick twitch in interest. Again.

He’d also started to journal. About his life. About his parents’ relationship. About what made him angry. What made him sad. What made him happy. A life check, of sorts.

He’d spent time video chatting with Nan, showing her the places he visited while she recuperated. It made him feel better, knowing she was healing, even if her progress was slow and often tiring.

He’d read random books instead of fucking random strangers. And at Jase’s suggestion, he’d downloaded a meditation app.

All of which had left him profoundly more…mellow.

Patient.

Observant of the way his emotions rose and fell.

It had started with a longing to be the best version of himself for Chaya, but somewhere around day thirteen, he’d realised that he wanted to be the best version of himself for himself.

He’d realised he was perhaps the only member of the band who missed his old life. The anonymity. Fixing cars. Taking his time with things instead of being herded from one venue, one hotel, one interview to the next.

He hadn’t realised how badly living in the ashes of his parents’ marriage had affected him. It’s what had driven him to adapt, to not upset his dad, to be what people expected of him as the oldest son and grandson, instead of being who he was born to be.

Now, he just had to get through the gig tonight and tomorrow. And then, straight off the stage onto a red-eye home. A very plush private jet, but still a red eye, to Chaya.

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