Inside Out
Page 86

 Lauren Dane

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
His brother needed to fall apart a little; he could see that clearly now. So he just sat with him, close, and let him. Ben didn’t have to be strong in front of Cope, didn’t need to hide his fear or his panic. Cope wouldn’t judge him, and he understood it.
Adrian came out some minutes later, after Ben had begun to pull himself back together.
“Hey, you two, didn’t expect to see you out here. Erin and I went for a walk around the perimeter a few dozen times, and she’s back tucked into bed. Todd is with her, and I think they’re talking dinner. She looks better. Alexander moved around a lot, which cheers Erin a lot I know. Anyway, I’m off to Brody and Elise’s for movies and pizza. I figured I’d see you there.” He looked to Cope.
“Ah, that’s where they all went. I haven’t checked my voice mail in a while. I think Ella and I had loose plans, so I’ll check in with her.”
“She’s going over there too, I think. You okay, Ben?”
Ben took a deep breath and stood. “Yeah, I am now.” He turned when Cope stood too. “Thanks. Now it’s your turn to go to her, the woman who is your everything.”
Cope smiled. “Yeah. Well. Give Erin a kiss for me, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Let me know if you want me to bring breakfast in or something. I’ll have my cell with me.”
He stood in his front room, looking out the windows at the rain. This room smelled like Ella. She loved the overstuffed chair he’d put in near the window. She perched there often, reading, doing casework, whatever. He’d moved it closer to the window, had made sure the fireplace was working well, wanting her to be comfortable in his house, wanting her to choose to be there with him.
One of her cardigans hung on the back of the chair, a bright splash of blue against the paler green of the chair. He picked it up and breathed her in. Love filled him in a rush, flashing through him, leaving him weak in the knees.
In just a few months he’d taken a longtime crush and had tipped over into love so big and amazing he’d not bothered to fight it. Why would he?
He spent every spare moment he could get with her, thought about her when he wasn’t with her. Saw a movie billboard and made a mental note to take her; saw a redheaded woman in a crowd, and an ache filled him as he wondered where she was and how her day was going.
Today she’d confronted his father in a way so fearless he’d been taken aback by it. She’d said the things he’d wanted to say, things he’d thought, and his normally macho father had stumbled a bit in the face of it.
He’d assumed she would still be so messed up by her past that a confrontation like that would not be something she’d be up to.
She’d left him a voice mail telling him of the plan to hang with everyone at Brody’s. Only in her Ella way, she’d seen it as a way to comfort her friends and keep their minds off the scary stuff.
So why was he there? There looking out his window, frozen by his feelings for her? Why wasn’t he with her, touching her, listening to her voice and letting the feel of her skin soothe the jangled nerves?
Fear.
It clawed at his insides. Seeing his hard-assed brother brought to tears from worry over his wife and child had shaken him harder than he’d imagined. Freaked him out, he supposed. Up until then he’d loved his family and slowly, those people they’d brought into their circle. He loved women in the same way he loved pistachio gelato and action movies. They made him feel better when he indulged, had given him a lot of pleasure.
But he didn’t love them the way he loved her. Loved Ella Tipton so much that spot inside him he hadn’t known was there yawned and freaked him the f**k out. He’d sort of assumed that when he fell in love he’d always get along with his wife. But he and Ella, well, she had a spark. His father had called her damaged goods, but so many people didn’t get that she wasn’t damaged at all. Bad things happened to her, and she survived them. Her skin was damaged, maybe her heart because she’d loved badly. But Ella Tipton was a survivor, a triumphant success story that his father could never understand, and more was the pity.
She’d become necessary to him.
That part wasn’t scary. He liked that part. The scary part was imagining her sick or dying and being powerless to stop it. Stupid, he knew, but that fear of loss seemed so . . . big.
His phone rang, Foo Fighters’ “Everlong.” Ella.
“Hey.”
“Did you get my message earlier? I was worried not to hear back. But Brody just called over to check in on Erin, and Ben said you’d left several hours before.” Her voice lightened his heart, even as his stomach tightened.
“I was busy.”
She paused. “All right. Are you coming over to Brody and Elise’s? We’re getting ready to play some Rock Band. Adrian is saying he should get to be the lead singer, God knows why. You’d think he was a rock star or something.”
He heard laughter in the background.
“I don’t think so. I have stuff to do here.”
“Is there something wrong? Other than the obvious, I mean.”
He sat in the chair he’d come to think of as hers. “No. I’m sorry I was short with you. It’s just, it’s been a long day. And this stuff with my dad. I need some time to process.”
“I understand. I guess I’ll see you later then.”
“I’ll most likely see you tomorrow.”
“All righty then.” She hung up, and he hadn’t really expected her to. He hadn’t told her he loved her, hadn’t asked how she was. In short, he’d been sort of a dick, and now he felt even worse.