Page 66 of A Dark Fall
Today, he looks every inch the surgeon, clean-shaven and dressed impeccably in a dark pinstripe suit, white shirt, and patterned yellow tie. I can’t help but compare his profile with Jake’s. It strikes me how utterly different they are in almost every conceivable way.
I thought Ben was everything I wanted once. I looked up to him, respected him. I was the naïve medical student to his older, handsome consultant. I suppose it laid the foundation of how I would always feel with him. Young and naïve. I was certainly naïve. Completely oblivious to his sneaking around behind my back for months with some medical sales executive. Though I wonder if it was less about my naïvety and more about my lack of attention. Perhaps if I were paying attention, I’d have noticed something wasn’t right. And perhaps if I were paying attention, he wouldn’t have felt the need to fuck his sales exec.
I wonder if I could ever stop paying attention to Jake.
Ben catches me looking at him and smiles. I look away and concentrate on the speaker instead. I certainly don’t need him to think I’m thinking about him likethat.
The speaker talks about why patient management systems need to change as the patient becomes more demanding, and “rightly so.” We don’t just provide a necessary service; we provide a competitive service, blah ... blah ... blah. Personally, I think all patients want is a good service, but that isn’t a moneymaker.
It carries on like this for another hour as I struggle to take down the necessary points of note, my mind mainly filled with images of what Jake’s place will be like and how badly I want to see him. As soon as they finish the second presentation, they announce the coffee break, and though some delegates at our table don’t move, I practically spring up and race for the door. They probably want to spend the coffee break networking, which I can’t be a part of. I make my way to the coffee station and pour myself a weak one with a splash of cream.
“I saw your mum and dad the other night,” I hear from behind me.
I roll my eyes before turning around to face him. He’s a networker—why isn’t he sitting at the table networking? So, he saw my parents. Unfortunately for me, Mum and Dad are still good friends with his parents, Harrie and George, and their paths cross often.
“Really? Was Laura there too?” I smile as I lift my cup to my mouth. I hate myself for even mentioning her name. He’ll think I care. Which I don’t. I sip my coffee and look away from him.
“Um, no.” He shakes his head. A few beats of silence ensue before he speaks again. “Alex, I thought your mum might have said something ...” He studies me. I say nothing. He clears his throat. “Laura and I aren’t together anymore. I ended it. About a month ago ...” He’s watching intently for my reaction.
I nod but say nothing as I continue to sip my coffee. I knew Mum was bursting to tell me something when I spoke to her on the phone last night, but she knows better than to instigate Ben conversations with me these days so must’ve opted not to mention it.
“Oh, right.” I press my mouth into a flat line to stop myself from saying something like, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs and smiles softly at me. “Have you done something to your hair?” He casts a look over it.
I almost gag on my coffee. Is he flirting with me? He has got to be joking. For an instant, I think he’s about to reach out and touch it, but he doesn’t. Thank god.
“No, absolutely nothing,” I say, planting my coffee cup down. I need to get away from him—from this. I turn back toward the conference room, though I only get a few steps away before I feel his hand on my arm.
“Alex, wait a second, will you?”
Only because I don’t want to cause a scene in the crowded lobby, I stop walking. When I turn around, he has his serious face on. His earnest, humble face. His butter wouldn’t melt face.
“What is it, Ben?” I sigh.
“I thought we could go for a drink after. Have a chat.” Then, I imagine because my face demands an elaboration, he adds, “About us.”
I blink in surprise. Does he seriously think a drink and a chat is all it would take for us to become us again? Oh, Christ, he does.
“Ben, there’s nothing to talk about.”
His jaw clenches ever so slightly. He never did like being disagreed with. “Lex, there’s plenty to talk about,” he chides.
“No. Therereallyisn’t.”
He looks as though he’s about to say something else, but since I don’t want to hear what it is, I turn and walk away from him, back to my seat. I don’t look to see if he’s following.
The second half of the seminar begins, but Ben doesn’t return to the table. Only because it makes me on edge not knowing when he might appear, I glance back toward the door a few times, but he doesn’t show. It relaxes me to know he’s likely not going to return now, and so I settle in for the last portion of the seminar.
The final speaker is by far the most interesting. He’s the software developer and speaks passionately and enthusiastically, so most of the room is completely convinced by the end. The question-and-answer session starts immediately after, but since it’s 4:45 p.m. and I want to freshen up before Jake arrives, I decide to give it a miss.
As I leave the ladies’ room and head toward the front door to wait for him, I pull out my phone. There’s a message from him at 4:20 p.m. saying he was leaving his place and will be here before 5:00 p.m. I get to the front of the hotel and have a quick look outside but don’t see him. He’s probably caught in peak commuter traffic.
I turn to head back across the foyer to the waiting area and freeze. Ben is watching me intently, a sad, lost look on his face. He looks me over from head to toe and begins to walk toward me. I sigh, my entire body tensing up. I really don’t want to deal with this now, here, ever. Why is he even still around?
“I thought you’d left,” I say.
“You mean, you hoped I had?” He raises his eyebrows.