Page 91 of Je T'aime, Actually

And as the stairs creaked under Chloé’s steps, Monroe leant her head back and let the silence settle again, grateful beyond words.

seventy-seven

Benji sat hunched at the desk, back to the door, his cast resting awkwardly on the edge of the table.

Chloé tapped softly on the doorframe. “Benji?”

He didn’t move.

“I’m Chloé,” she said, gently reminding him. “Monroe’s partner, remember? Is it okay if I come in?”

Still no answer, but he didn’t tell her to leave, and that was enough. She stepped inside, pulled the spare chair out from under the desk and turned it around, sitting down across from him. Not too close. Not pushing. She noticed the Band-Aid that was stuck above his eyebrow, and a controller sat useless in his lap.

“I don’t know if Monroe mentioned it, but I’m from France,” she said, voice soft, “so if I say something weird, we’ll blame the language barrier.”

Nothing. But something in his jaw tightened, just briefly.

She let the quiet settle before speaking again. “I just wanted to say hi. And that you’re allowed to feel whatever it is you’re feeling right now.”

Benji blinked down at the controller in his lap. “It doesn’t make sense,” he muttered.

Chloé tilted her head. “What doesn’t?”

“That I’m fine. I mean…this—” He lifted his cast slightly, “is nothing. And he’s in a hospital bed and might not…”

He trailed off, the words too heavy to finish.

Chloé stayed still. “You were walking together?”

He nodded. “We were just chatting. Talking about the match at the weekend. And then…there was this sound. Like ‘whoosh’. And shouting. And then I was on the ground and someone was helping me up and asking if I could move my fingers.” He stared at the controller. “I didn’t even see the car. It came from behind. I didn’t see anything. Just felt Dad push me out of the way.”

“And now you feel…guilty?” Chloé asked gently.

He nodded; the smallest movement. “He let the car hit him to stop it hitting me…and he’s in hospital and not me.”

She exhaled slowly. “Life isn’t always fair. Because awful things happen without reason. But none of that is your fault.”

Benji bit his lip, hard. “What if he doesn’t wake up?”

Chloé’s voice caught for a second. “Then you hold onto everything he gave you. And you keep being his son. That doesn’t stop.”

A long silence passed. And then Benji whispered, “I’m scared.”

Chloé finally reached across the desk and laid her hand down, open. “So am I.”

He didn’t take it. But he didn’t turn away either. His eyes, red-rimmed and glassy, met hers and stayed there.

Chloé smiled softly. “We’re going to order some food. Would you come down? Monroe would love to see you; she’s just got Kitty laying on her right now.”

Benji huffed a quiet laugh, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “Of course she has. Monroe’s Kitty’s favourite person.”

“She’s popular,” Chloé said, playfully conspiratorial. “She’smyfavourite person too.”

That drew a proper smile from Benji, even if it was brief. “Can we have pizza?”

Chloé stood, nudging the chair back under the desk with her foot. “Only if you come down and help me choose the toppings.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. But I don’t want to talk about it.”