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He opens his mouth, but I can’t listen anymore. I can’t hear his voice without my stomach turning.
“Get. Out,” I say, gritting my teeth. Of all the things Ben’s done to anger me, this one I never saw coming. This one blows all the others to bits. I may never recover.
“Livy—” Ben’s lips turn out in a pout.
“You heard me.” My pulse races. My heart is a thunderstorm raging in my chest. “Get out. You and Ms. Forester.”
Ben inches toward me, his face long and sorry. I have forgiven his thoughtless, selfish ways time and time again, but this time is different. This is like taking off my rose-colored Benjamin glasses. There’s no going back. I’ll never see him the same again. I’ll never make another excuse for this man I once thought I’d spend my life with.
Sheila silently slips through the door, but Benjamin continues to inch toward me, believing I’ll forgive him like I have so many times before. “Honey.”
He’ll never take me seriously. He’ll never say that “honey” out of love rather than manipulation. I realize that now.
“You are trespassing, and I won’t hesitate to call Sheriff Lane.” I use Logan’s threat to me from that first night.
“What?” Ben’s lips part and a tittering laugh falls from them.
Logan may be quiet, he may have shrunk out of view, but he hasn’t left. “Logan, will you please call the sheriff?”
He walks past us, ramming his shoulder into Ben’s. Amelia’s old rotary noisily circulates as he dials from the other room.
“What do you plan on doing, Livy?” The kindness and repentance are gone from Benjamin’s voice. “Sit around the old lady’s house all day and try to figure out why she never contacted you? She isn’t worth this.”
“Bobby, yeah, it’s Logan Heyborn.” Logan’s words filter in from the kitchen. “Can I speak to the sheriff?”
Ben’s eyes dart to the dining room doorway as he backs up toward the exit. “Jonathon won’t support this.”
He doesn’t get it. He never will.
I shake my head. “I don’t care.”
“You will,” he gripes. “He’ll cut you off. He’s not going to provide for you while you hang out here wasting time.”
“Hey, Drew,” we hear Logan say. “I need you down at Amelia’s. We’ve got a problem.”
Ben eyes ping-pong from the dining room entrance, then back to my face. He steps outside the door, and I follow him onto the cement porch.
“You need to go, Ben. We’re done.” I pull in a breath through my nose. “For good.”
His lip curls. “What’s the plan, Liv? Do you have one? Because this story isn’t going to end up like one of your books. You can’t even buy milk without Jonathon.”
“I’ve already got a job here. Besides, that’s no longer your problem. Goodbye, Benjamin.” I step back inside, slamming the door shut behind me.
Eighteen
My chest heaves, but my eyes are dry. I’m reeling, but with adrenaline, not self-reproach.
Logan stands in the living room. He’s heard everything. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “So, you’re staying?” For the first time, I notice the grease stains smeared on his arms, the blackened marks on his navy tee. He was working. I don’t know what made him come over, but I’m grateful he did. “Liv, are you okay?”
I sigh, releasing the breath I’ve been holding. “Yes, I’m staying. And… I’m good.”
His eyes stay locked on my face. “I’m glad.” He slides a hand from his pocket and motions toward me. “I’ll cancel the sheriff while you give Rachel the good news. She’ll be thrilled to have you on board.”
Logan calls from his cellphone in the living room, his conversation quick, while I speak to Rachel on Amelia’s landline. I haven’t even thought of my dead phone in the trashcan.
Rachel squeals in my ear. “This is better than Ron Reagan switching careers. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
My heart thumps as the adrenaline dies, but I’m at peace. I made the right choice—for the house and for my life.
