Page 54 of Love Beyond Repair
“You’re good for him,” my mother says as she tops up Kelsey’s wine. “He needs someone steady.”
I smile and keep chewing. I know where this conversation is headed. The pressure to propose has been mounting for weeks from my parents, from Kelsey, from everywhere. My life map is being drawn out, whether it’s what I want or not. In all honesty, I’m not even sure myself. What we have seems to work; the prospect of creating a family isn’t repulsive. But I’m not convinced it’s what I’d choose, not that it matters.
“She’s been brilliant,” Dad agrees, wiping gravy from his chin. “Never seen you this settled, son.”
Kelsey smiles, then reaches for my hand under the table. She gazes up at me from beneath long lashes. Her girl-next-door persona firmly in place. When she’s like this, I can almost imagine growing old together, if I ignore the niggle of what I’ve lost.
“I’ve never been happier,” she says, with a glance at each of my parents.
My mother visibly glows.
“And you, Ben?” I pin my mother with a look, but it’s too late. She’s already stoked the fire, asked the question I don’t want to answer. “Are you happy?”
As my focus bounces between the three sets of wide eyes staring back, the question is answered for me. Resigned to play along, I take a breath.
“Never been happier…”
The truth scratches at the back of my throat. But I’ve gotten good at swallowing it. I play my part and keep the fantasy going. If I don’t, I’ll break more hearts than just my own, and I’m not sure I can stomach being responsible for that.
Not after what I did to Bex, how she broke. I know it wasn’t losing me that hurt her most, it was the curveball I threw. The whiplash I caused after we returned from Spain. It sent her back to when she was young, triggering her past, driving the knife deep. I won’t disappoint someone else like I did her. I can’t change what happened, but I can manage the future.
After lunch, we sit in the garden with coffee and dessert. Mum brings out old photo albums, the ones I haven’t seen in years. She flips to a picture of me in a school play, dressed as a scarecrow. Kelsey laughs louder than she needs to. My mum snorts with her. She’s seen these all before, but she massages my mother’s ego like she always does. It hits me that Bex was never given the chance.
She’s on my mind a lot these days as life moves forward. What could have been is a question I ask myself daily, not that it matters now.
“You’ve grown up so much,” my mother says, nudging me with a fond look. “You’re a man now, just like your dad. I’m so proud of you.”
I nod, but my throat feels tight. The anticipation is mounting, suffocating me. Whenever we visit, theireyes immediately go to her ring finger. It’s like having a doorstep scanner; the negative result always brings a twist of pain to my mother’s face.
Later, in the car, Kelsey leans her head against the window. She closes her eyes, her chest rising and falling softly. The city passes in a blur of gray behind her, and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep.
“I love your family,” she says quietly, and I realize she’s been lost in thought. “They love me, too.”
“They do.” She turns to face me with a soft, dreamy look on her face.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she murmurs.
The silence stretches, and I grip the steering wheel harder. Trying to bury the dread of where this road is taking me. It’s like being on a highway with no exits or roundabouts; there is only one destination.
“Let’s not find out,” I say, before I can stop myself. But even as I say it, I’m thinking about Bex. Not the Bex from the photo hidden in my underwear drawer. The real one.
The one who looked at me and knew when I was lying—even when I hadn’t said a word. The one who could read my mind with a single look and loved me anyway. The one I let go of when I knew I shouldn’t.
But I made my choice, and now I have to live it. I owe it to those around me to follow through.
***
The princess-cut diamond glints under my bedside light. It sits snug in the red velvet ring box, poised, ready to slide on an expectant finger.
Kelsey is on the night shift. It was a relief when she returned to work a few weeks ago. She regained some focus instead of being obsessed with the past. I sit on the edge of the bed, eyeing up the symbol of eternity.
The ring wasn’t what I would’ve picked, but my mother insisted it was the right one. It would suit Kelsey’s stature, her preferences. Not having a strong opinion on the subject, I agreed. I close the box and slip it back into the drawer where it’s been hidden for almost a month.
My decision to propose comes more from necessity than desire. Kelsey wants commitment, and she’s letting everyone know, which is leading to more and more questions. She’s closing in from all sides.
Last night over dinner, she asked outright what was so wrong with her that I hadn’t asked yet. I didn’t know what to say. How do you explain that there isn’t anything wrong with her per se, that I’m the one with a ghost on my conscience? Unfinished business that won’t quiet.
I stare at my phone, Bex’s name sitting on the call screen. Just the contact. No recent calls or messages. If I speak to her, maybe I’ll realize I’m making the right choice. Kelseyhas always been the one for me. I wouldn’t have walked away from Bex if she wasn’t. My finger hovers over the call button. I tap it, then immediately disconnect. I can’t go there. I won’t like what I find.
