Page 32

Ben’s Chapter

2 days earlier

“I’ve fucked it all,”

I announced, sat on a very hungover Lucy’s bed on Sunday morning.

I didn’t know why the words had come out, but they had. I would probably regret it.

She rubbed her eyes and groaned. “Good morning, sunshine. Can you, like, get me a coffee or something before we— wait, why are you in here? Where’s Ivy?”

I handed her the coffee I’d known she would need. “She’s gone.”

“Where did she go?”

she asked, sitting up and taking the drink with her un-injured hand. “Where are the kids?”

“The kids are watching TV. I gave them breakfast while you snored.”

“Hey. Be kind. Aah, it was a fun night. Charlie is fun…”

She smiled to herself, reminiscing about something I doubted I wanted to know. “So, sorry, she went home? That seems odd.”

“She went home last night with Derek.”

My throat bobbed as I swallowed.

“I’d assumed she’d have stayed when she found out you were here. I enjoyed that, by the way, thank you, that was funny. Ergh, Charlie made us do tequila shots, I can still taste it.”

She grabbed her phone from the side table. “I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. Wait, sorry, sorry, what have you fucked, exactly?”

“Things with Ivy, Lucy, for Christ’s sake. I just… froze. It makes no sense. I’ve been going over and over it in my head.”

She looked at me with one eye significantly more open than the other, her hair wildly tousled in different directions. “You’re making no sense. Hold on. You guys had a tiff. That was all, right?”

I saw her body tense. Shit. “Is that what she told you?”

My chest twinged. Ivy hadn’t told Lucy; she’d kept it quiet. I was both sad and appreciative of yet another part of her.

“She said she moved out to get some space, but that you two were fine.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

Lucy straightened up, nearly spilling her coffee. “Explain. Now.”

I looked down, uneasy.

“Now, Ben,”

she repeated. “You guys are together, you had, like, that theatre date. It was all sickening and gross.”

I pushed my glasses further up my nose.

“Spit it out!”

“It just got complicated, Lucy. I tried. Trust me, I tried so hard.”

“Wait, did you guys break up? Did I ambush her with you? What did you do?”

Lucy dropped her phone in the duvet and scrambled to find it.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m texting her to see if she’s okay while you explain exactly what you did, because I’m telling you right now, Ben, I may actually kill you this time. I honestly thought this was it. The way you two looked at each other – even from that first day – I always thought you’d be alone forever, and then along came this short, sad girl who seemed to just fit with you.”

“You’re not helping.”

She plopped her phone down and stared me out, folding her arms.

I sighed. “The dates were great, more than great. In fact, most of the time we spent together was just like this haze. Then Jessica showed up again.”

“Again? Oh god, you didn’t sleep with her, did you?”

“No! Of course not. We had a fight afterwards. Jessica said so many foul things. Then everything at the office escalated. Ivy was doing all this amazing work and it looked like it was making her happy, so I offered her a job.”

You offered her a job?”

Lucy shrieked at me, nearly choking on a mouthful of coffee. “Oh, good god, Ben. The girl didn’t need that pressure; she needs time to explore the world, not be tied down. Why couldn’t she just keep living with you for a bit?”

I tensed. “Of course she could’ve. It wasn’t about the money. I thought that was what she wanted. It was going so well.”

“She was trying to impress you! She felt guilty, so guilty, for everything, and she was trying to make it up to you. Ivy needed the opposite; she needed you to support her, not validate that she needed to work for you!”

“It wasn’t like that.”

How could she have thought that? I adored her. I adored having her in the apartment, having her in the office. Surely she knew? Surely she knew what she’d brought into my life? If anything, I owed her.

“So then what happened?”

Lucy’s phone buzzed and my eyes darted to the text. “It’s Charlie, calm down.”

“She told me she didn’t want the job, and I didn’t handle it well. I got frustrated with her and couldn’t understand.”

“God, Ben.”

“I know. Don’t you think I know? At the time it was so intense, and she pushed my buttons on purpose.”

I thought back to the morning before the show; how I’d been so enraged as she stormed out of the room, looking so goddamn hot in those tiny pyjamas she wore. Everything about her had driven me mad that morning, because all I wanted to do was have every single part of her.

“I was scared, Lucy. I was losing her, I could tell. When I watched the TV show, it just confirmed it. Seeing her flirt with that prick, seeing him all over her. Seeing her laugh. She cried with laughter for him, with him. Everyone in the fucking office watched it. It was humiliating. I was so angry; I needed time to think. When I got home, she’d packed up her stuff and gone.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I’m going to murder both of you. I mean it. I get why you didn’t tell me, because you are so bloody emotionally illiterate, but Ivy? Oh god, she must want to kill me after last night.”

She groaned and threw her hand over her face, dramatically dragging her cheeks down.

I remembered it vividly, seeing them tangled in the mud. My heart had pounded the way it only did for Ivy, but she’d barely noticed me until I’d tried to help her up. Fuck, I should have just held her and not let her go.

“Please tell me you’ve spoken since the show.”

Lucy peeled back the bandage on her hand, inspecting the small cut.

“She called me and I told her I hated it. I tried not to, I did. I knew I wasn’t in the right mind, but it just came out and I couldn’t take it back. I said some really shitty things. I heard how much it hurt her. Lucy, I heard it in her voice, and then I didn’t even come home. How the hell do we come back from that? I was jealous and embarrassed and I took it out on her.”

“Okay. Okay,”

she repeated, leaning forwards as I felt my eyebrows furrow.

When I’d arrived home and she was gone, I should’ve just got in the car. Why didn’t I go after her there and then?

“God, you have seriously fucked this up. Couldn’t you have had this tantrum a bit later down the line? It’s great that you are finally deciding to feel your feelings again after spending your entire adult life as a robot, but talk about picking your moments! I am way too hungover for this level of idiocy.”

She shook her head. “Now, Ivy is obviously on an emotional journey, with a heap of trauma to resolve, so, yes, you two having this relationship now is bad timing, but look at all you’ve worked through already! You shouldn’t have offered her the job, she needs to feel free and independent, not like you’re trapping her or expecting her to repay you for anything. Ivy only went on that show because we all wanted her to. Of course, Robert tried his luck, he was probably chasing her five minutes of fame, but I’m telling you now: she wasn’t interested. He even asked her out, but all she did was mope about missing you. You have nothing to be jealous about.”

“Lucy, I can’t go on like this; I can’t like her this much, it’s choking me. Literally choking me. Last night…”

“Dear lord, tell me what happened last night.”

“Nothing. That’s the problem. I should have apologised. I intended to. I went over it in my head, again and again, but then she was there, just looking at me with that sad, sweet look on her face. My mind just went blank.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “You mean she left with Derek and you said nothing?”

“Pretty much.”

“You realise she’ll now think this is what you wanted? She was insecure enough already, Ben, about the show, about her goddamn life. She must be in bits. How did I not see it?”

Lucy ran her hands over her face again. “Okay. Right. I need a shower. This all feels like a weird dream. I will shower, you will make me toast, and we will figure this out, okay?” She looked at me sternly.

“Okay.”

She leant forwards to hug me; she smelt like a pub carpet.

I wondered what Ivy was doing.

Did she prefer living back home? Did it feel like her real home now? No, again, did it feel like her real home again? I hadn’t expected her to look so beautiful last night; it was like I’d forgotten how perfect she was.

She must have been freezing; I must’ve made her feel so uncomfortable.

She didn’t even want to take off her wet shirt.

I didn’t deserve her, what was I doing? She needed someone complete, and whole, and emotionally available.

Someone who made her cry with laughter.

This was always going to happen; I was always going to mess it up, and she would leave me.

Why had I ever thought we could be anything more? I should never have invited her to live with me, it wasn’t like me at all, but then, I couldn’t have watched anyone else look after her.

“I can’t tell whether my headache is from you or the alcohol,”

Lucy grunted as she came over to where I was sat and took a bite of toast.

“Sorry, Luce.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re human after all. It’s fine, Ben, you’re allowed to have feelings. You should talk to me about them more next time, maybe before you take them out on others.”

She flicked on the kettle. “What do you want to do?”

“What do you mean?”

I asked, resting my forehead in my hands on the worktop.

“Well, are you going to go over there? Are you done? You should talk it out either way because she is definitely best friend material and you’re not ruining that for me.”

“I think she’s done.”

“I think we’ve established that you have no idea what she thinks. What I want to know is what do you want?”

She pointed her toast at me, scattering crumbs everywhere.

“I want her. I want to apologise and fix it.”

“Okay. You’re sure?”

she asked, spreading more crumbs – I questioned why I’d bothered giving her a plate.

“Of course I am, but it’s gone too far. She doesn’t need someone like me. She’ll have plenty of men obsessed with her, Lucy. A bunch, and you know it. She should pick one that can be more supportive. She should find one that can be steady for her, that’s warmer.”

“Oh, Ben.”

Lucy reached for my hand. “When you allow yourself to be yourself, anyone would be lucky to have you. Ivy felt so lucky to have you. PTSD is complex and messy, but she doesn’t strike me as the type who doesn’t know her own mind. I mean, to survive what she did, to have made the life she has, it’s pretty nuts when you think about it. I’d be lying if I told you that it won’t be hard, she has so much to see of the world, to learn about herself; who knows what that will look like? But, I guess, that’s for her to decide, not us. You need to speak to her.”

“What if she is done, what if she needs more space?”

My phone buzzed against the side. I glanced down at the screen to see Susan’s name flashing. My stomach twisted. Why was she calling me? Was it Ivy? I picked up.

“Hello, Ben?”

“Hi, is everything okay?”

I asked, sensing something off in her tone.

“I’m probably just being paranoid, but I don’t suppose you’re still connected to that police app on Ivy’s phone? She said she was going to the shop, but Derek never came back from taking the bin out. So, call me crazy, but I rang the shop, and she never got there. I’m sure—”

I stopped listening as I put her on speaker phone so I could bring up the app. Lucy’s eyes widened as she picked up the thread of our conversation. There was an alert; she was in the middle of a field.

My breath stilled.

“Shit, Ben,”

Lucy gasped. “I know where she is; that’s the old traveller site.”

I felt a wave of nausea as I made for the door, grabbing my keys and my phone, leaving the map open. Lucy shouted something after me, but I didn’t listen. This couldn’t be happening again.

The car engine roared as I drove towards the flashing dot. God, if I’d just spoken to her last night. If anything happened to her, I wouldn’t forgive myself. Not this time. Not again. What could she possibly be doing there?

I was ten minutes away. Ten minutes too far.

Without thinking, I followed the fresh tyre marks in the wet grass, veering off the road and over the field. There was a building and it was on fire.

Fire.

I rammed my foot down on the pedal, powering towards the collapsing structure. I threw myself out of the door before I’d completely let go of the handbrake, skidding to a stop in the muddied grass.

“Ivy!”

I shouted desperately. “Ivy!”

She was inside. I knew she was inside.

I ran to the entrance but the smoke and flames made it impossible to see anything. I held my arm over my eyes, blinking. My heart thumped as the burning filled my nostrils. Marcus was there. That bastard was pinning Ivy to the wall. He had his foul hands around her perfect neck. He was killing her. Strangling her.

Instantly, I was running, swooping to grab a metal pole glinting in the embers. I didn’t care that it burnt my hands as I swung it. When it struck his head and he fell, vibrations ran down the pole and into my arms, the momentum sending me skidding across the floor, barely missing a wisp of flame. Before I could reach her, Marcus was back on his feet, so I swung again, roaring through gritted teeth. I needed to get to Ivy; I needed to get her out.

Marcus threw himself at me. I would kill him, I decided. I would end his fucking life, rip it from him with my bare hands. Our feet scuffed across the burning floor as we lunged back and forth, dragging and throwing each other towards the eyewatering heat. My hate and rage fuelled me like the petrol had fuelled the fire. After all he had done to her, after the pain he’d caused, how dare he touch her. She may not want to be mine, but he would not touch her ever again.

Thrusting my elbow, I sent him flying into the back wall.

“Ivy?”

I shouted, but she was gone.

I fell to my knees, wildly searching, running my hands over the sizzling debris as the smoke darkened. I made out the hunched figure of Marcus leaning against a door. I saw his fist too late as it hit my jaw. It hurt. It fucking hurt, and I wouldn’t fucking take any more. There was no time. Why wouldn’t he stay down? He was relentless, inhuman, evil. I thought of Ivy fighting him, all those years; all of them by herself. Never again. His nostrils flared as he clenched a fist, sweat glistening, spitting into the flames, grinning at me. I barrelled into him, gripping his shoulders and slamming them into the flames, throwing all my weight against him, riding it to the ground. Something cracked against the burning concrete so I pushed again, and again. I dug my fingers into his flesh and I slammed him down.

“Bastard!”

I screamed as his body went lax. “You fucking bastard!”

His eyes rolled, but I couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.

My fists pounded into his flesh. Thump, thump, thump. But then I remembered her touch, remembered that broken, sad look in her eyes and my fists relented, letting his body flop back.

“Ivy,”

I whispered, trying to stand. “Ivy!”

I screamed, but my voice was hoarse.

Flames licked at my ankles, I smacked them out, falling over the walls, searching for her. I needed her; I needed to find her. This couldn’t be the end. They couldn’t win. She needed to live. She deserved to live.

I slammed my hands against the door Marcus had shut, screaming, seeing movement. On the other side, crumbling wood crashed glowing to the floor.

Ivy was trapped.

I leapt for the main front door; the air was fresh and cold outside so I gulped it in. I sprinted as fast as I could around the building, desperately searching for another way in, when I found the broken, frosted window.

There she was, by a toilet block. She was on the floor. God, she was on the floor. She wasn’t moving.

“Ivy!”

I cried. “Hold on!”

Ramming my elbow through the remaining glass, my feet found grip in the warming stones beneath and I toppled inside.

“I’m coming!”

I cried again as my legs buckled, hitting the floor.

It was an oven, a crackling, suffocating oven with red edges and torrents of smothering, gritty smoke. In two steps, I had her. My stomach lurched as she flopped in my arms. She hung, lifeless. This wasn’t Ivy anymore, it was an empty body. My heart exploded as I heaved her over my shoulder. I felt it breaking and tearing open as I dived for the window, having to lower her through before clambering out. I scooped her back up, running as a small explosion echoed behind, shooting out fresh ash and rubble. Around the building, my legs gave way and I skidded down onto my knees.

“Don’t leave me, Ivy. Ivy!”

I cried as I knelt; as I held her.

Her face was black and grey, but tear-tracks glinted around her eyes. I wiped her golden hair away, but her head lolled as I bought her mouth to my cheek.

“Ivy. It’s me. You’re out.”

I screwed my eyes shut, feeling for breath.

There was nothing.

She couldn’t be gone, she couldn’t. She was mine. I’d found her. She was perfect, she was totally perfect. I needed her. I needed every part of her to stay with me.

“Please!”

My voice broke as I stared into her face. She was a shell. She was a hauntingly beautiful, empty shell. Dust sat on her long eyelashes and blood smeared her full, usually pink, lips. I ran my thumb over them and a scream fell out.

“No, no, no!”

The field was filling around me but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. She was what mattered. She was all that mattered.

“Don’t leave me!”

I sobbed, parting her lips, pressing mine into them, blowing my air into her, my life into her.

Nothing happened.

I gave her another breath. I gave her everything I had, she could have it all.

Her head rolled, her hair sifting through my fingers as I cradled her. I stared down, holding my breath.

Her eyelids fluttered.

A flicker of life, fleeting and beautiful.

“Come on, Ivy. Please. Don’t leave me,”

I whispered, watching for another flicker.

Her eyelids stilled again as her head became heavy in my hand, her soft cheek tipping into my palm. I screwed my eyes shut and I prayed. I crinkled up my face and begged the universe to let me have her. To give her back. I knew I’d fucked up, but I could be better, I would try again, for her. I would look after her properly, whether she wanted to be with me or not.

Life tumbled back into her as she violently rolled to the ground, coughing and rasping. I noticed rain falling from the sky; paramedics and police were standing around us.

She was breathing.

I pulled her back into my chest, cherishing her life in my arms. Savouring the feeling of her ribs rising and falling. I watched as her small, shaking hand pressed into my cheek, as her breathtaking brown eyes bore into mine.

“Don’t leave me,”

I said one more time, just to make sure. To make sure she stayed.

A paramedic pulled at her shoulder holding an oxygen mask. I was scared to take my eyes from hers, scared if we broke the connection, she would fizzle away, but she tucked herself into my chest, quivering. She was so weak. She was barely there.

I took the mask tentatively from the paramedic, carefully offering it to her, coaxing her. The plastic was cold and firm and it smudged the blood and soot on her face. My fingers trembled as I tried to hold it steady, needing to be as gentle as I could. I felt her small body relax with each breath. She clung to me. She was so weak, but she was trusting me, to keep her safe.

And I knew instantly that I would.