Marriage Matters

Fifty-one

After the cake tasting, Chloe stopped by her apartment to grab some clothes and to see Whiskers. When Chloe started dating Geoff, she’d bought an automatic food dispenser and a self-cleaning litter, but Whiskers still needed love. It had to be lonely, staying in that apartment without anyone to play with.

Chloe hoped it wasn’t going to be a huge issue when the time came to move her across town. Geoff had already dropped a comment or two about Mary Beth maybe being allergic. Chloe had nodded, saying, “Oh, that would be a shame. I’d hate to live apart from you until Whiskers died.” There was no way she was leaving her cat behind, no matter how perfect Geoff was.

While keying into her apartment, Chloe glanced over at Ben’s door. It seemed pretty quiet and she was disappointed. Still high from all the sugar, she finally felt brave enough to tell him about the engagement.

When she walked in, Whiskers streaked across the room and practically tackled her, purring and rubbing her head up against her leg.

“Hi, baby,” Chloe crooned, rubbing her ears. “Oh, I miss you.”

After giving the cat a thorough rubdown and some snacks, Chloe started going through the huge collection of mail she’d pulled out of the box downstairs. Flipping through the ads, her hands stopped on her Star magazine. Maybe she should stick it under Ben’s door with a note saying, Check out this celebrity wedding. Oh, and did I mention I was getting married?

Chloe’s phone rang. Peering at the caller ID, she said, “Hey, Sally.” For some weird reason, she’d thought it was going to be Ben. “What are you doing?”

“I am so sorry.” Sally’s voice was low. “I am a terrible, awful friend.”

“Why?” Chloe asked, sifting through the rest of her mail. It was so strange to think that, in just a few months, the bills would be for an entirely different home altogether. And, it suddenly dawned on her, it was not likely Geoff would make her responsible for them at all.

“You might want to check on Ben,” Sally said. “I’ve been calling him but—”

Just then, bass boomed through the walls. Whiskers cocked her head, the bell around her neck jingling. This just added another note to the music, which was definitely from the movie Braveheart.

“What’s wrong with him?” Chloe asked, worried. “Is he sick?”

“I got drunk a few days ago and let it slip,” Sally wailed. “That you were engaged.”

“What?” The drums pounded through the wall like a death march. “Sally,” she whispered, as if he could even hear her over that music. “I said don’t tell anyone until I told him.”

“I’m so bloody stupid,” Sally cried. “But he was there and we were all talking about it and—”

“Shit.” Chloe gripped the magazine tight.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

“Of course,” she said. “But right now, I’ve got to go.”

Hanging up the phone, Chloe bolted out of the kitchen and into the hallway. There, the music was even louder. It pounded the walls so hard she was surprised the peeling yellowed paint didn’t just drop off in strips. It wouldn’t be long until the crabby lady downstairs called the police.

“Ben,” Chloe cried, banging on his door. “Open up!”

The rare occasions that Ben got upset, he had been known to work on a design project and let it take him over for days. He’d put every ounce of anger and energy into whatever he was creating and forget about silly little things like eating, sleeping and bathing. Ben joked that it was his artistic temperament, but Chloe found nothing funny about watching her best friend sink into oblivion.

Based on the pounding music, she knew he was doing exactly that. Sally told him about the engagement, and he was hurt Chloe hadn’t said anything. She could picture what was happening behind that apartment door. Stacks of design journals would be out, the computer would practically be smoking and Ben would be tugging away at his hair, at least fifteen cups of coffee in.

“Ben,” Chloe called again. “Open the door. Don’t make me go get my key!”

The lock rattled and the apartment door flew open. Chloe was hit with the smell of burned coffee and old pizza. Walking in, she saw that the shades were drawn. The room was as dark as a tomb, other than the glowing white light of Ben’s computer. He was standing in front of it, pacing like an artist in front of an easel. He was wearing a pair of tight gray jeans and a fitted blue T-shirt, practically vibrating with raw energy. She couldn’t help but think that he looked even better than he did on the night of their date but just as quickly, she pushed that thought away.

Ben turned to her. “Welcome to the cave of creation,” he cried.

That’s when Chloe noticed the two streaks of black under his eyes. Like he was a football player or tribal warrior.

Or a total psycho.

Chloe marched over to the windows and threw them open. A gust of icy air shot in the room and she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the material of her sweatshirt turn cold and stiffen. She stalked over to the stereo and flipped off the music.

Ben put up a hand to shield his eyes. “What, exactly, do you think that you’re doing?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Chloe demanded. “How long have you been holed up in here? When was the last time you ate something besides . . .” She eyed the tower of empty pizza cartons that were stacked up on his coffee table. They were, of course, arranged in an artistic pattern. “Cardboard and grease?”

“Cardboard and grease.” Ben nodded enthusiastically. “I like that.” He turned back to his computer. Chloe took a few steps forward and saw at least five windows open on the screen, each with detailed graphic designs. As always, they were brilliant.

“That’s a little better than your face paint,” she said. “What’s up with that, by the way?”

Ben ignored her. He continued to pound away at the keys like some crazy pianist. She noticed that he was unusually tan. Hopefully, he hadn’t been outside, running in the cold with his shirt off.

“You are acting like a psycho.” Chloe nudged him with her toe.

Hitting Save, he closed the computer. “Why do you even care?” he asked, turning to her.

“Why do you think, you dumb ass?” she cried. “Because you’re my best friend.”

Ben glared. She half expected him to tackle her, with those stupid black streaks on his face. Instead, he stalked over to the coffeemaker and refilled his cup. Chloe noticed that instead of plugging the coffeemaker into the wall, it was attached to an extension cord that led to the kitchen. “Why,” she couldn’t help but ask, “didn’t you just plug that into the wall out here?”

“The coffeemaker is a part of the kitchen,” he said. “The cord is symbolic.”

“Please tell me you’re drunk.”

“Stone sober.”

“Ben,” Chloe groaned, sinking down into the couch and burying her head in her hands. “Do I have to call your mother? Tell her that you’ve finally, officially, lost your mind?”

Ben’s blue eyes blazed. “I’ve lost my mind?” he demanded. “You busted into my apartment, ruined the flow I had going, froze me out with your attitude and your . . .” Suddenly, he seemed to notice that the windows were open. After some sort of angry grunt, he stomped over to them and slammed them shut. Chloe jumped at the bang. “Seriously,” he said, turning to her. “Why are you here?”

“Because. I have something to tell you.”

“I’ve already heard.” Ben leaned against the wall. He linked his fingers in the loops on his jeans and eyed her. “Everybody has. You are about to marry a complete stranger and didn’t even bother to tell me. So, who’s the one who’s gone crazy here?”

“It’s not crazy,” Chloe protested. “I love him.” For some reason, the sentiment sounded completely ridiculous in Ben’s apartment.

“You don’t love him.” Ben ran his hands through his hair. He needed a cut and it stood up at wild angles. “You were too scared to go on a date with him. So, I don’t really understand why, when he shoved a diamond ring in your face, you didn’t just say no. Considering you don’t even know the guy.”

“I do know him,” she said. “We’ve spent every second together since we met.” Except that one night, she thought, when I went on a date with you.

Ben glared at her. “Oh, okay. Now you’ve got time to spend with people?”

“I . . . I made time.” She puffed out her cheeks. “Love is important.”

Once again, the sentiment sounded ridiculous. Maybe it was because of the way Ben was watching her, his body coiled and tense. Letting out a slow breath, he shook his head. “Chloe . . . doesn’t this guy have a kid?”

“Yes. So what?”

Ben pressed his lips together, but didn’t say anything.

“What?” she demanded.

“I can’t believe you’re being so stupid,” he said. “Everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve wanted . . . You’re just going to throw that away to be someone’s mother?”

Chloe stared at Ben in horror. “I’m not throwing anything away.” Her stomach clenched at the very idea. “Geoff supports my career. He doesn’t expect me to be a full-time mom. No way.”

“It just seems awfully convenient,” Ben said. “This guy can’t handle his kid, you come along and make things better, then all of a sudden, he proposes in two days? I don’t like it.”

Furious, Chloe leapt to her feet. “You think the only reason someone could fall in love with me is so that I could be their nanny? Is that what you think of me?”

Ben’s face flushed beet red. “No. I’m . . . I’m just saying—”

Chloe let out a strangled cry. “I can’t believe you!” A red burst of rage clouded her vision. Stomping toward his pizza boxes, she swung at them. They clattered to the ground in a crash of crumbs. “You think he can’t just hire a nanny?” she demanded. Turning to face him, tears clouded her vision. “You really think that’s a reason to marry somebody?”

“I’m sorry,” Ben said quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t just talk to me before—”

“Look, I get it,” she cried. “Maybe I’m tall and gangly and too nerdy to fit your profile of what a perfect girl should be, but the fact of the matter is, there are some men in this world who do see me as something special.”

Ben rushed over to her. “Chloe, that’s not what . . .”

“Isn’t it?” She wiped away the tears clouding her vision and drew herself up to her full height. “Do you realize that after we went out on that stupid date, you barely talked to me for weeks? Why do you think I didn’t tell you about getting engaged? Because after we kissed—and trust me, that’s something I truly regret—you totally stopped being my friend.”

“Chloe, I—”

“No,” Chloe poked him in the chest as hard as she could. “Don’t you dare”—poke—“act like I”—poke—“should have come to you!”

“Let me just explain.” Ben grabbed her hand. An electric current seemed to pass through her and she yanked her hand away.

“I can’t believe,” she said, her voice low, “that you still haven’t said the only thing you should be saying.”

“Oh, yeah?” he demanded. “And what’s that?”

Chloe stared at him. His eyes were locked onto hers, with an expression she didn’t understand. “Congratulations.”

Ben stepped close to her, reached out a hand and placed it on her arm. His hand was warm and strong. The same scent she’d smelled the night that they kissed seemed to engulf her and she caught her breath. “Congratulations.” His voice was quiet. “Congratulations on making the biggest mistake of your life.”

“You’ll get to know him. You’ll like him,” she pleaded. “It’s not like . . .” Even though he had hurt her, the idea of not having him as a friend was too painful. It was like imagining life without her parents or June. “It’s not like he could ever replace you.”

Ben’s mouth dropped open, then he started to laugh. “Wow, Chloe. You really don’t get it, do you?” He pulled his hand away and crossed his arms. In a painful flash, she remembered how those arms had felt that night, wrapped around her.

“Get what?” she whispered.

Ben’s eyes darkened dangerously and he looked down at her lips. Her body flushed with heat and she had a sudden, horrifying realization that he was going to try and kiss her. Again. The memory of his body pressed against hers sauntered through her brain, followed by the memory of how he had pushed her away the very next day.

Well, it was her turn.

Tearing her eyes away from his, Chloe practically ran for the door.