Page 131 of Every Good Thing
“There you are!” John says. “We were starting to wonder about you Ben.”
“A whole ten minutes late,” Larry chuckles good-naturedly. “Must’ve been that Wilmington traffic. Eh?”
“No.” I approach John’s desk as he moves from behind it. “I can’t accept the position.”
My announcement is stern and clear, but John freezes, like he doesn’t understand, and he’s waiting for a punchline.
“Ben, no.” Lauren drops the paperwork she’s holding onto the coffee table. “What do you mean?”
“I apologize for letting it get this far,” I say, “but recent events have brought clarity, and this won’t work for me or my family.”
“Nonsense,” John says.
I stave off his upcoming argument with, “I appreciate the opportunity, Mr. Riley, but it’s not going to happen.”
John glares at me, hands on hips, and his eyes narrow like he’s strategizing his next move in a chess game.
“Well, Ben, that breaks my heart,” Larry says, coming over and giving me a gentle back slap. “But you know best. You’ve got to do right by your family. You take care.”
He shakes my hand before leaving.
“Ben, don’t do this. You need us.” Lauren steps closer, like she wants to reach out. Her stony eyes glisten as they water. “I thought we—”
“You thought wrong,” I insist, returning my gaze to Mr. Riley. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
He huffs, shaking his head. “Lauren, give us a minute.”
She rushes at his command like just another staff member, closing the office door behind her.
Mr. Riley replaces his disappointment with a knowing smile, firmly squeezing my shoulder.
“Ben, let’s sit down.You owe me that at least. I understand what’s going on.”
Respectfully, I comply, though I doubt he understands anything. Nor do I feel he’s owed. He takes the couch opposite me.
“This isn’t the time for second thoughts or cold feet.” With a deep breath, he leans forward, conspiratorially. “Lauren shared your recent home situation with me. I can’t say that I didn’t see that coming. How’s Ruthie handling the separation?”
“She’s fine,” I manage, defenses rising.
“She’s such a beautiful little girl. Jillian and Lauren couldn’t stop gushing about her after the picnic,” he smiles. “Kids are resilient. I know you wouldn’t leave Lena without strong reasons, and I hate that you’re struggling. We can help you.”
“Help me?” I repeat dumbly before assuming he means with the counseling and mental health services described in the company’s policy manual.
“Of course!” He goes to the bar and pours whiskey into two crystal tumblers. I accept the glass he hands me, but I don’t drink. “You know me, Ben. I take care of my own. Whether you take the job or not, you’re family. Lauren never stopped loving you—”
“I stopped loving her. I don’t love your daughter. This isn’t about Lauren,” I say, unease percolating beneath my rigidity like lava inside a mountain.
A disappointed twinge shadows his expression that he quickly bypasses. “No, you’re right. It’s about you and Ruthie for now. I want to support you in this. You’ve already accomplished the hardest part of the mission. Leaving took courage. Now, let my lawyers handle the details. They’re top-notch, and they’ll get everything you deserve. Half the assets. Custody of Ruthie. Lauren says you have dogs. Hell, we’ll get them, too.”
He laughs, a sound as devastating as it is familiar.
I hold tight to my calmness like a shield, though every muscle in my body tenses with disgust. That he offers lawyers rather than help, that my portrait still hangs on his wall at his daughter’s expense, that he laughs over the dissolution of a marriage and the ruthless dismantling of Lena’s dream—I’m hit with a truth that I’ve always known but somehow ignored for the security they could provide me.
The Rileys are small.
In integrity. In kindness. In everything that matters.
“Has this been the main objective all along?” I ask as their collective manipulations pile together in my head.
