Page 145 of Until the Last Star Fades

“You won’t have to pay for checkups, right? England has national healthcare?” Maggie set down three plates and dug around in her cutlery drawer.

“Yeah, thank God. They’ll take care of me.”

“Where will you live?” asked Maggie.

The lump grew in Riley’s throat. Far, far away from here…might as well be another planet. For Ben’s sake, she was trying to be upbeat, but it felt like her heart was being crushed.

“Walthamstow, northeast London. I sweet-talked Spencer, my old flatmate, this morning. My old room’s full of her wakeboarding stuff, but I can have it as long as I pay the back rent I owe. Hunter’s spotted me some money, so that’s taken care of. I’ll give Mark a bell, too. See if he knows of any work going.”

“Thank goodness you’ve got people there who care about you…but I still think you should be staying here.”

“Well, Maggie, at least part of me is staying here.”

Maggie laughed and stepped over to Ben, hugging him softly so the embrace didn’t hurt him. “Saying ‘thank you’ will never be enough. After everything you’ve done for us…” She sighed. “It all seems so unfair.”

You belong here with me. Riley could feel Ben’s eyes on her. She glanced over her shoulder and Ben was already there, waiting for her.

“I’m going to miss you both something rotten.” He sniffed, a lost look in his eyes as he mouthed, “Love you,” to Riley.

“We’ll miss you, but just think how happy your mom will be to see you. You are such a credit to her.” Maggie’s voice broke. She cleared her throat and loosened her hug.

Thanks, guys. Now I’m gonna cry again. Riley pulled a loose thread on Maggie’s oven mitts, busying herself so she could blink away tears unnoticed.

Maggie returned to the drawer, gathering forks and knives. “Before you two head back on the ferry tonight, I’ll give you a note for your mom, Ben. Don’t let me forget.”

A quivering smile betrayed Ben’s usually easygoing façade.

“We’ll just have to come visit,” said Maggie with a confident nod. “Take that trip we’ve planned forever, right, Riley?”

The smell of burning egg and cheese urged Riley to remove their lunch from the broiler, giving her an excuse to answer without meeting Ben’s gaze. “Yep!” The empty promise pinched her heart. Mom’s trying to keep things positive, but she knows we can’t afford a UK trip—not now or anytime soon. She pulled out the frittata, and its eggy smell stoked another wave of nausea in her belly. I have to face the facts: Ben will go back to London, and we might never see each other again.

Sixty-One

It’s funny how time can drag when you’re waiting for something good—Christmas, a much-anticipated vacation, cookies in the oven—but when something you’re dreading is placed in your path, days can feel like hours, minutes like seconds, kisses—gone in the blink of a teary eye.

For Riley and Ben, his last days in New York City—Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday—careened toward Wednesday without mercy. The life they had known for the past seven months had hit its expiration date. That evening, Ben would be on a flight to London, and Riley would be riding the subway back to Manhattan, alone.

Her new job had kicked off two days before, but Wednesday morning Riley couldn’t face it and called in sick. The thought of spending another day training alongside her pushy predecessor with his stinky ass-breath while Ben was packing his suitcase alone had left her hyperventilating in the shower at 6 A.M. When she didn’t return a half-hour later, Ben went looking for her.

They didn’t get very far. Closing the door to her room, Riley met his mouth and fisted his t-shirt, pulling him gently to the shaggy rug on the floor. They had kissed so often, so desperately over the past five days, their lips were red and slightly puffy, and Riley had become a fast learner at covering hickeys (or ‘love bites’, as Ben called them) with makeup.

She wasn’t about to let Ben leave with only deep kisses to think about on the plane. Since his surgery, Riley had freed Ben from his boxers several times, teasing him with her mouth, and his tongue had reciprocated, inciting wave after wave of orgasmic fireworks, but that morning their seven-weeks abstinence of hip-to-hip, toe-curling sex ended. Ben was ready, and Riley wasn’t about to let her new job make it a measly quickie.

They moved to her loveseat then had a session in her cramped bed, showing each other how much they were cherished, how much they were loved.

Riley, mindful of Ben’s bruised, broken body, caressed him and kissed him and told him how much he had changed her life for the better. With the hours counting down ruthlessly, she moved above him, thinking only of their present, not that evening or the next day when, instead of Ben, loneliness would wrap itself around her.

My beautiful Brit boy, pretend this is the beginning, not the end.

Ben held her each time like it was their first, losing himself in her, committing her sighs, her soft skin, her taste to memory, all of his senses firing…over and over. Exploring with his hands and mouth, along her stomach, between her thighs—if he couldn’t stay, he would take her with him the only way he could: in his heart.

My darling Riley, I could die happy right now.

Wrapped in each other, sighs, pleasurable moans, and laughter filled the small room until the darkness outside the window began to swallow up the daylight, and one by one the twinkly lights—the stars on strings that had lovingly kept watch above their heads—began to flicker out.

• • •

Ben’s bubblegum pink case, with its white polka dots and B. Something name tag flapping farewell, scooted along the conveyor belt and tipped, disappearing into the abyss of the airport’s bag drop. Riley’s heart did a belly flop. What brought us together is now gone.