Page 79 of Every Good Thing
“What’s holding you back?”
“Handing in my badge. Giving up the larger community.” He pauses, glancing at the dark tile floors beneath us. “The Rileys. You.”
“Me?”
“I don’t want a job that will cause you anxiety.”
I chuckle. “You mean more anxiety than you being a cop?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I do.” I push off the desk and twist to stand before him, straddling his extended legs. My cast arm rests on his shoulder while the other lands on his chest. He unlocks his arms and slides them around me. “I won’t worry as long as we have this… you and me together, talking, as long as we’re us again. Are we?”
“Yes.” His forehead presses to mine. “We’re always us, even when it feels like we aren’t.”
“Then, I’m with you, whatever you decide to do.” A soft kiss bridges the gap between us. “Tell me why you’re reluctant about the Rileys.”
His shoulders bounce. “How about I show you?”
He doesn’t explain as we leave the office, travel down the hall, and up the elevator again. His badge grants us access to a posh suite with John Riley’s name on the door. Everything is dim and quiet, and it feels slightly wrong to be here, like snooping in someone’s medicine cabinet.
But Ben is undeterred.
He doesn’t turn on the lights—they aren’t needed with sunlight pouring in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Mr. Riley’s workspace is larger than the dining room at Saddletree, and I can’t fathom the cost of the leather sofas, handmade desk, or modern art.
Ben motions toward a display of pictures elegantly centering a glossy wood-paneled wall opposite John’s desk and plush seating. I move closer, and that’s when I see Ben’s army photo amongst the others.
A breathy sigh escapes me, taking it in, and I’m bum-rushed with feelings, good and bad, not knowing which to latch onto. It’s the same portrait on our family wall at home.
Finally, Ben says, “I feel like the prodigal son, and this offer is my return to the fold. Maybe it doesn’t matter—a job’s a job—but it’s wrong. Leaving the Rileys behind wasn’t me avoiding or wasting my life… it was me finding my life.”
His eyes lock on mine like he wants to study me. He’ll see only love in my eyes now that his words have broken through my crowded emotions. God, I adore him. I’ve always known this about him, but it strikes me, once again, how thoughtful and intelligent Ben is—he doesn’t say much, but he thinks about everything. And this insight into his relationship with the Rileys is a profound one.
He shrugs lightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. “I could be overthinking it.”
“You’re not. Trust your feelings, Ben.” I nod toward his picture. “This is… strange.”
“It’s a symbol of respect. He’s always viewed me as a son.”
“You aren’t, though… I don’t want to overthink it, either. Or dissuade you from something that could be amazing. Military service is important to them, and so are you. They want to showcase it—no big deal, I guess.”
“But?”
“But, do you think that attitude comes with… expectations?” I ask, my mind spinning over what it could mean.
“That’s why I’m reluctant. I don’t know.” He runs a hand through his short hair. “They want to pick up where we left off, and that’s challenging after…”
I know better than to ask what happened. I don’t want to push him when he’s finally opening up. But his furrowed brow makes me hurt for him—it was no ordinary break-up.
“So, accepting the job feels like stepping back into your old life?”
“It suggests I want that life back. I don’t.” He winces. “I want the job as I am… not who I was. If that makes sense.”
“It does.” My good hand goes to his arm for a gentle squeeze. “When you know, you’ll know—that’s what Mom used to say. It’s like falling in love. I loved Mark, but always tried to make us fit when we didn’t. I didn’t know any better until you came along. Don’t try to make anything fit. It either will or won’t. When you know for sure, that’s your answer.”
He smirks briefly and nods. “So, wait?”
“I think so. All you have to do today is enjoy the picnic and spend time with Ruthie and me. Right?”
