Page 18 of Where We Belong

Ben: That’s not what I meant. You and I used to be friends.

Cory: No. If I recall, I was just Heath’s little sister. Remember? If not, try hypnotherapy. I’ve heard it helps bring back lost memories.

Cory: I’m going to silence my phone. Please stop messaging me.

Ben: We haven’t discussed the hotel.

Ben: Cory, we need to come to some kind of agreement.

Ben: Text me when you’re back in Paradise Bay.

Chapter Nine

Cory

Once upon a time, Benedict Farrow and I used to text constantly. He would text me about his day and tell me about his patients—without breaking any HIPPA laws or doctor/patient confidentiality agreements. I used to pour out my every thought to him. He was my journal come to life.

From my first moments waking up to finally laying my head down at night, we chatted about everything and nothing. Our conversations flowed steadily all day unless he was in surgery, or the hospital was particularly busy. But they stopped when Heath moved in with him. Obviously, he didn’t need me anymore. Ben had his best friend back, and the understudy—me—was dismissed.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Ben again. I sigh, my shoulders slumping, and silence it before slipping it back into my bag.

“Is everything okay?” Fern asks, her brows furrowing with concern as she peers up from her laptop.

“Uh-huh,” I say, my lips pressed in a tight smile. I avoid meeting her gaze and focus on pulling out my laptop, my hands fumbling clumsily.

“So, when are the gala invitations going out?” I ask, trying to move the attention away from me. Fern doesn’t know about my current situation with Ben, and I want to keep it that way.

“Couple weeks. Hopefully, I’ll have Maia’s guest list by then,” she says.

“She’s making a list, checking it twice?” I half-joke.

I open the document she sent me yesterday and stare blankly at the blinking cursor, my thoughts drifting toward Ben despite myself.

Forget about him. The gala is more important than your stupid childhood crush.

This is my second year helping Fern with the gala. Usually, it was something she handled with Mom before… their relationship fell apart. Right after Fern began dating Elliot, my mother changed her demeanor toward her. Their relationship wasn’t great before, but after, it became painfully cold.

That’s when everyone realized Mom wasn’t some delicate widow who needed our protection, but a woman who destroyed our family and left us practically orphans.

Last year I began to help Fern with the gala, not to replace Mom, but because it’s important for the family. We do it for Dad. Our brothers and sisters-in-law help in different ways.

“You laugh, but Maia knows a lot of people who’re willing to open their hearts and wallets for us,” she states.

Fern is right, Maia has a lot of connections, and if they don’t come to the gala, they at least make a huge donation to our charity. “Let me know when you need me again. I’ll block my calendar,” I offer with a small smile.

Fern studies me for a moment, her gaze searching for something. “So, will you tell me what Ben wanted?” she asks.

My shoulders tense, and I try to keep my smile in place. “Nothing important.”

“Are you ever going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding him? It’s like you’re no longer friends.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “We were never friends.”

Fern’s eyes narrow, and I feel the weight of her scrutiny. “If you had said anything else, I might have let it go,” she says slowly. “But there’s clearly more to this.”

I raise a brow and glance at her before turning back to my screen. Ignoring her is the only way to evade the inquisition. I open my emails and start to respond to them. She’s not getting any information out of me.

“Don’t dodge the subject,” she insists.

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