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“I’m sorry,” I say. “It must have been rough; growing up with a father like that.”
“I could say the same to you. You have your writing and your books, and your arts degree. More importantly, you’re a good person. If your dad can’t see that, he’s an idiot.”
His harsh words shock me. “He’s not an idiot, Ben.”
“Yeah, he is, especially because he can’t see how much he’s hurting you. You bent over backwards trying to make Lucas happy, doing everything he wanted you to do, because you were desperate for someone’s approval.”
“So you agree with Lucas?” My voice is thick with emotion. “I did try too hard to please him?”
“I never really thought about it until you brought it up tonight. But looking back, yeah, I think you tried too hard. There were times when I questioned why you’d do the things you did for him. At the time, I just put it down to your peace-loving nature, but now I reckon it was more than that. You wanted a man’s approval and you put that all on Lucas.”
Tears prick the backs of my eyes and my heart drops to my feet as the heavy truth of Ben’s words sinks in. I did plenty of things for Lucas that I didn’t want to do while we were together—things I definitely didn’t enjoy. At the time, I told myself I was compromising for the sake of the relationship, but he didn’t respect me or appreciate me for it.
And he isn’t the first boyfriend I bent over backwards for, either. I did plenty of things for the boyfriends I had before Lucas, too.
When I finished my BA in Arts and never applied to be accepted into a Doctor of Medicine, I knew I was disappointing Dad and yet I did it anyway. I thought facing that fear had broken through the ceiling of needing his approval, but I was wrong. I’m still afraid of disappointing him, and I’m still avoiding telling him things about my life because I know he won’t be happy.
“I’m sorry for upsetting you.” Ben leans back in the booth, crosses his arms and watches me as if I’m a ticking time bomb that might explode at any moment. “You know I just say what I think. That’s who I am.”
He sounds so defensive.
“It’s fine. It’s your opinion and I asked for it. I respect it.”
Ben has always been honest with me, and I’ve always appreciated the fact he tells me things straight. Something Lucas never did. Until it was too late, anyway.
“You need to be more like me, Lainey. Toughen up a bit. Learn how to not care, just like I did.”
“I wish I could. But I’m not sure how to.”
Or if it’s reasonable to expect to. Is it wrong I want my only living parent to be proud of me?
“The sooner you realise you can’t spend your life making everyone happy, the better off you’ll be. I’m telling you, not giving a shit is the only way to go.” He tips his beer in my direction before taking a sip.
“You really don’t care at all what people think?”
“The only people I care about are my guys, Seb and Duncan. They’re my family—the family I chose. I don’t need anyone else to make me happy. I don’t need anyone else to like me.”
“Except Amber,” I remind him.
“It was a mistake to believe Amber might see anything in me. See?” he places the bottle back on the table with a thump. “I let myself care—tried to convince myself I could make someone like her happy—and where did that get me? Screwed over and messed up. Not caring is the best way to go. The only way to go.”
He says that, but I can hear the bitterness and the pain behind his words. He does care what she thinks. How can he not when he’s still in love with her? And I think he still cares what his father thinks, too. He’s just doing his best to convince himself he doesn’t because it hurts him less. Self-preservation is his number one priority. I can’t blame him for wanting to avoid feeling rejected, but he’s wrong about Amber not seeing anything in him. He has a lot to offer without needing to change a thing.
I put my hand on top of his. “It wasn’t wrong to think you could make her happy, Ben. You’re...” I can’t say he’s a great guy because he simply won’t believe me.
Ben shifts in his seat, pulls his hand out from under mine, and folds his arms over his chest. “I’m what?”
“My life is better with you in it. And that night that Lucas broke up with me, I hated the thought that I probably wouldn’t be hanging out with you anymore. You’re someone I want to talk to, someone who makes me feel better. You’re someone who tries to understand me and tells me exactly how things are. You’re... you matter to me. I’m glad I met you, and I’m even gladder we’re friends.”
It’s a huge confession for me and Ben is sitting there, staring at me as though I’ve just told him I think he’s God. Clearly, he isn’t used to being appreciated. Yet again, I feel sorry for young Ben—the one who grew up with a father who seemingly couldn’t stand him.
“Angus burger and grilled salmon. Enjoy.”
The waitress puts our dinner down in front of us and walks away. As soon as she’s gone, Ben picks up his burger. “I’m glad, too,” he says gruffly. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
He almost looks embarrassed to say it, yet I feel warmth curling through me in response.
I smile and pick up my wine, holding it out to him. “To our friendship.”
“To our friendship,” he says softly, picking up his beer and gently touching my drink with his.
