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“Wow. You really know how to show off for a lady. I don’t think a man has ever eaten dirt for me before. At least, not since kindergarten.”
“There’s not much I wouldn’t do to try to impress you, Holly.” The joking tone is gone from his voice, and when I meet Ben’s gaze, a sudden flash of heat races over my body.
But that’s probably just the fire.
I focus back on my sandwich, and we finish our meal in silence.
Ben cleans up the dishes as I go to sit on the couch, enjoying the gentle blaze. The flames shrank while we ate. Trying to be careful, I place a log in the fireplace before quickly retreating to my seat.
The heat from it is lovely, and the flickering amber and crimson embers are mesmerizing.
“How’s your first fire? Everything you imagined?” Ben settles on the opposite side of the couch, turning to face me with his arm slung over the back cushions.
“I love it. It’s so warm and soothing.” Relaxed for the first time in a while, I sink back and let my body go limp.
These past few weeks have been tough. I’ve tried so hard to continue on my steady course, power through all the stress, never admit that there are nights I want to cry myself to sleep. With classes, work, internship hours, study sessions, club meetings, and doctor appointments, I’ve found it harder to keep away the ever-looming emotional storm.
Besides that one time, I haven’t called Ben after my blood draws. Even while he tried to make me laugh, I could see the guilt as he watched me struggle to calm down. And it was too easy to rely on him. I need to do this on my own. So, each time, I spend close to a half hour in the restroom, working through a set of breathing exercises. Safe to say, my nerves are shot for hours afterward.
A few bright spots have kept me sane—talking on the phone with Marcus every other day, eating Monday night dinner with Pops, receiving texts from Fred about his tests going well, and visiting Ben during his dialysis sessions.
But those are just Band-Aids on a festering wound. This trip, a whole weekend away, is a healing balm.
“Thank you. For inviting me here. I’ve been …” My throat clogs up, and to my horror, there’s a sudden pressure of tears behind my eyes. Like my body wants to take advantage of my relaxed state to let go of all the tension I’ve been stifling in the form of a sloppy sob session.
Not gonna happen.
I breathe in deep through my nose, let the air sigh out of my mouth, and start again. “I’ve been stressed lately. Didn’t realize how much I needed a few days off.”
“Is it the exchange?” he quietly asks from his side of the couch.
I shrug. “Some of it’s that. I just want it all to go smoothly. I need Marcus to be okay. He’s my brother. He’s everything to me.” The desperation in my voice unnerves me but not as much as Ben shifting closer.
He reaches out his arms and wraps them around my shoulders until he can pull me into a gentle embrace.
At first, I tense but not because I don’t want his hug. I want it too much.
Still, his warmth is so much more soothing than the fire. After a moment of hesitation, I surrender and lean into him.
BEN
We sit, wrapped up together, silently watching the logs crackle and spark. This weekend’s adventure started with the simple goal of visiting this cabin without having the memory of my grandfather overwhelm me, and in doing so, I’m growing closer to Holly.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who needs some help.
She’s starting to open up to me.
I’ve gotten the surface of Holly. Just a few pieces of her that she’s willing to share. But I can tell, from offhanded comments and unconscious reactions, that there’s more underneath her protective shield.
Twice now, she’s been vulnerable with me.
There are no genuine words of comfort I have to offer because, until the donation happens, everything is just hoping. All I can do is be open and honest, like she is with me.
“My grandpa Ben, he was … he lived here. By himself. Except for when I visited.” The words don’t come easy, but having Holly in my arms helps. “He committed suicide. That’s how he died.”
She lets out a small gasp before slipping her arms around my waist to wrap me in a tight hug. “When?”
“It was the summer before my freshman year of college. So, I guess it’s been three and a half years now.”
