Page 122 of Dearest Protector

Neither one of us hesitated to slow life down so we could concentrate on each other when we needed a break.

I had a few things I wanted to talk to Ben about, but I’d waited until we could be alone here to spill my news.

He reached out, snagged me around the waist, and pulled my body flush with his. “I’m not going anywhere,” he told me gruffly. “You told me on the jet that you had a few things to tell me. Shoot.”

I took a deep breath. “A few days ago, I started remembering what happened the night of my accident. I’m not sure why it’s happening several years later, but I’m pretty clear on how things went until I lost consciousness in the ambulance.”

His body tensed, just like I knew it would.

I knew there was a part of Ben that never really wanted me to remember what had happened that night.

He didn’t want me to relive that tragedy.

And I was pretty sure he also feared me remembering that it was his fault that I’d stepped in front of traffic that day.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I said to him for about the millionth time since I’d known him.

Maybe he’d accepted that rationally, but I wasn’t sure he’d ever really settled it with his subconscious.

There was a part of him that still blamed himself for what had happened, and that needed to end right now.

“I was stressed out and in a hurry, and I couldn’t wait to get to that party so I could go home and relax. I remember all of it with crystal clarity, Ben. Yes, I caught your movement out of the corner of my eye, but I rushed ahead because of my own stupidity. Please stop blaming yourself. The fact that you do and that you always have blamed yourself hurts me more than that stupid accident,” I ended in a rush.

His arms tightened around me reflexively, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head against his shoulder.

“It was an accident, Ben,” I said, trying to reassure him. “Almost everything I dreamed about was actually the reality. You being there saved my life. I probably would have given up if it wasn’t for you and your pigheaded determination to keep me conscious and breathing.”

“I’ve tried to get over it,” Ben said hoarsely against my ear. “Fuck! I’ve really tried, Ariel. There are long periods of time that I don’t think about it now, but it still pops up sometimes out of the blue. A guy doesn’t just forget something like that, especially when it’s a man who loves you as much as I do.”

“Try harder,” I insisted. “I hardly think about it anymore, Ben. I’m not sure why I got those memories back, but I can’t stand the fact that there are moments when you still feel like it’s your fault. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’m doing what I was meant to do. Maybe I’m not a huge believer in fate, either, but I do believe that we were meant to be together just like this. Losing my ballet career is the only thing that brought me to art. Everything that happened was meant to be.”

“Do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to believe that?” Ben rasped into my ear and he held me tightly.

“Says the man who knew that I was the woman for you the moment you saw me?” I cajoled.

“That’s…different,” he argued.

“It’s not,” I said adamantly. “Maybe I remembered because it’s time for both of us to completely let go of the past. Now I know exactly what happened. I know it wasn’t your fault. I also know that you saved my life. I wanted to let go that night, Ben. You were theonlything that made me fight for my life. Your voice. Your presence there. The weird connection that I felt with you. Tell me that you know that you saved my life that night. Say it right now.”

His body relaxed a little as he said, “I don’t think I’m ready to say that, but now that you remember, maybe I can slowly forget.”

“Were you really afraid that I’d blame you if I did get my memories back?” I asked gently.

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally. “You’ve always gone on assumptions. It’s a little different from having real memories of what happened.”

“I do remember,” I assured him. “And I was a twit. Just about anything probably would have set me off that night. I was high on adrenaline from dancing my first lead role, and more impatient and twitchy than I’d ever been in my life. I made a mistake. I don’t want to beat myself up anymore over that one stupid mistake. That part of my life is over, and I’m so happy now that I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Then don’t,” Ben said in a deep, guttural tone. “I’ll do my best to let it go so that you can, too. Now that you know what really happened, and you still don’t blame me, it might be a lot easier to let go. You make me so fucking happy that I can’t keep hanging onto that forever. You know me so damn well now that you probably sense it every time I think about it.”

“I do,” I admitted as I cuddled up as close to his body as I could get. “I want you to talk to me about it when you feel that way. I’ll remind you in every way possible that you saved my life whenever you feel guilty. Eventually, you’ll let it go completely.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now if you knew I was thinking about it sometimes?” he asked as he tenderly kissed my forehead.

I shrugged. “What could I say to make you feel better? It wasn’t like I haven’t tried in the past to make that clear before, but you’re so damn stubborn. You’re a rational guy. I was hoping you’d realize that it wasn’t your fault, consciously and subconsciously.”

“I tried,” he confessed as he stroked a hand down the naked skin of my back. “But somehow it stayed stuck in the back of my mind that you really didn’t remember.”

“It didn’t make a damn bit of difference when I did remember,” I informed him. “Everything happened exactly the way I dreamed that it did.”

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