Page 98 of Every Good Thing
The horses grunt simultaneously as if bored.
“I’ll call John first thing tomorrow and refuse the offer. It’s not going to work.”
“No, you won’t. If that’s what you wanted, you would’ve done it already. It’s not about the job. This is about us.”
I huff and roll my eyes. “It isn’t.”
“Of course, it is.” Her voice is eerily calm as if she’s too exhausted to be angry. “You’ve blamed me for everything since this started. You lied about the interview and Lauren because I’m difficult to talk to. You told me I’m too busy for my family because I’m a shit businesswoman. You fault me at every opportunity for the studio decision, though I only did it to spend more time with you—time you’ve mostly rejected. At the picnic, you snapped at me, embarrassed me, and chose Lauren over me. And your new ‘work family’ thinks I’m so insecure that I’d keep you from your dream job, which isn’t true. It’s one hurt after another like you want to push me away.”
“I don’t. I’ve apologized for all those things. I’m sorry for hurting you again—I don’t mean to. It’s unintentional… like my frustration naturally funnels in your direction. It’s not a reflection on you or us.”
“Ben, it’s all a reflection on us. You’re caught between two worlds, and I’m the one you’re pushing away. What does that tell you?”
That this isn’t the world I want? No. Unacceptable. Untrue.
“I want you, Ruthie, and Saddletree—that’s never been the issue.”
“If that’s true, why won’t you spend time with me? Or talk in therapy? Or do what Dr. Reese said?” Her tears stream now. Shadow shifts uncomfortably under her, like he’s pissed at me, too. She wipes her cheeks with the back of her riding glove and takes a breath. “You can’t even talk to me, Ben.”
“I can. I want to. It’s difficult for me,” I defend weakly. “Some things are just… hard for me to say.”
She nods, freeing more tears. “I know, but I need you to say the hard things. I need a little mercy…” Her voice trails off in a small sob. “I overheard you with Rob. Lauren’s waited for you to come back to her all this time. She’d be with you in a heartbeat, and you know it. Everyone knows it. And you can’t even talk to me about her. It’s like you’re letting me fear the worst because… the worst is true.”
“No! It’s not that at all! That’s your anxiety talking—not me. Stop putting your shit on me!”
We’re both stunned by my anger. So much for not arguing. I don’t know even where my anger toward her comes from—she and Ruthie are the best parts of me. And yet, I am pushing her away.
Finally, she shakes her head with a knowing, tearful look. “My fault. Again. Got it. This was a bad idea.”
Then, she yanks Shadow’s reins and takes off through the woods, kicking her heels into Shadow’s sides for a strong canter. River shifts under me like a revving race car, but I’m not a good enough rider to follow suit.
“Whoa,” I say, struggling to hold him back. But the reality of my wife’s accusation hits me in a wild rush of fear and anger. Lena believes my distance and indecision are about Lauren.
“Fuck!”
I dig my heels into River’s sides, though he needs no encouragement. He takes off as soon as I stop resisting his antsiness. The ride is clumsy, too fast for comfort, and incredibly unsafe, but I reach the barn as she dismounts.
She puts up a hand. “If you can’t even understand my feelings, let’s wait for Dr. Reese—”
“No,” I return, sliding off River and not even bothering to gather his reins. The horses mingle at the mouth of the barn, attempting to eat grass between their bits. I stand in front of Lena, winded and angry.
“Lauren rejected me,” I say finally, unable to meet her eyes for the tears flooding mine. “Six weeks after the IED. Two weeks after being honorably discharged. We were finally together, and the woman I thought I loved cringed when I took my shirt off. She could barely look at me. Couldn’t touch me—”
“Oh, God, Ben, I’m so—”
“Stop.” Tears stream down my cheeks, hot against my flushed face. I meet her gaze long enough to see her agonized sympathy—a look I never want to see. “Can’t you see why I wouldn’t want to tell you this? That someone else found me repulsive, so weak and broken she physically recoiled? Does this make you feel better?”
“No, I’m heartbroken—”
“No, don’t do that,” I cut her off sternly. “You want to know about Lauren, so here it is. She immediately apologized, saying it was only a reaction. But reactions are truth, aren’t they? Love can happen in a moment and be destroyed just as fast. That’s what happened. She did everything she could to fix it. But I couldn’t get past it.”
I pause, trying to swallow the hard lump in my throat while forcing myself to keep going, to purge the toxic parts that have eaten away at me all this time, if only to satiate her.
“But the truth is, I didn’t want to get past it… because six weeks earlier, lying in the sand, bleeding, burning, ears ringing, head pounding, sure I wasn’t getting out of there just like the guys next to me, I ached for what Lauren would go through, losing me, but… I also felt fucking relieved. Expendable. I didn’t want to go back. Didn’t want… her. Then, I felt ashamed for not loving her the way she loved me.”
My head droops, and tears fall, thinking about everything I went through then and all I put Lauren through, too. I square my shoulders, determined to get through this for Lena’s sake.
“When I was safe aboard the Blackhawk that rescued me, I vowed to return home and keep my promises. She’d waited for me, loved me, for ten years. I wanted to do my duty and make her happy. That’s why her rejection gutted me so badly. Here I was, patting myself on the back for being so goddamned noble, and I was too fucked up for her. Her rejection hurt me, but it also freed me—it took a lot of therapy to realize it. That’s why she never heard from me again. I knew I could’ve gone back to her. I still know it—you’re right. But why would I give up the life I want for the one I didn’t? I loved her, but something was missing. I never understood what until five years ago when fate and Alice Harvey brought me here. To you.”
