Chapter Fifteen: His Side of the Story

What am I doing here? That's the question of the hour, isn't it?

"I ... I was looking for you."

"How did you find me?"

Is that disappointment in his voice?

"We have a mutual friend. Dave? You were at his engagement party last week. I saw the photos on Facebook."

"Oh."

"I was supposed to be at that party."

"You were?"

"Yeah, I ... You're not Jack. Your name is Ben." As the words leave my mouth, I feel stupid. Of course he's not Jack. He knows that.

"I know, I ..."

There's a massive crack above us, the sound of close thunder. The sky has turned dark the way it does sometimes, almost instantly, and the air smells like rain, that mix of moisture and grass, even though there's no grass in sight.

"We should go—"

"—Okay, I'll go," I say.

"Wait, no, Chloe. I just meant ... will you come inside with me? This is my office. We can go up there?"

"Okay."

He steps ahead of me and takes out a large set of keys. He finds the right one and opens the lock, then the second lock. "We have expensive equipment in here. I know I look like a janitor."

"It's fine." A drop of rain hits the top of my head, and then my hand.

Ben pushes open the door. "Come in, you don't want to get wet."

I dart through the door, wondering how long I'm going to be trapped here, with him. These sudden heavy storms don't usually last long, but sometimes they do.

"Hold on," Ben says. "Let me get the light." He reaches past me, and I catch a whiff of his scent, soap and something earthier, almost a heat. He catches the light switch with his fingers and flicks it up. The atrium fills with harsh light as Ben stares down at me. "Hi."

"Hello."

There's a beat as we stare at one another, but then Ben says, "Should we go up?"

"Sure."

He tugs on the edge of my shirt and I follow him up a narrow staircase. The air is full of the smell of roasting coffee and butter croissants.

"It smells amazing in here," I say, feeling awkward and stupid. The last time we met, the conversation just flowed. But then, I thought he was someone else.

"It can be distracting sometimes. Almost there." He gets to the top of the stairs and takes out his keys again. Two more locks, heavy and serious. "We got robbed, once, right after we got this space. Thank God I was insured."

"Got it."

He shakes his head at himself, but I don't know what it means. He opens the door and puts his keys away. "Come in?"

I follow him through the door and suck in my breath. I'm not sure what I expected, but it's not this—one massive open room with high ceilings and tall windows and old wooden floors that look like they come from the early 1900s. One corner of the space is cordoned off as a sound booth, presumably to record in. There's a small kitchen in the other corner, a brown leather sofa, and framed albums on the walls. "This is amazing, Ben."

"Thanks."

"How long have you had this space?"

"Couple years now. It belonged to another label that went under so we were able to take up the lease for something reasonable."

"That's lucky."

"Yeah." He looks at me, and the look isn't a happy one. "Look, Chloe."

"You have a girlfriend."

"What? No."

"I saw you together. Rachel."

He runs his hands through his hair. "She was at the party, yes. She's friends with Tiff, but we're not together anymore. We haven't been for a while."

"But she's still in your life?"

"Can we sit?" He motions to the couch, and I follow him there. He puts his hands on his knees. "You want something to drink?"

"Just tell me, Ben."

"I'm sorry for what happened."

"Okay."

"I didn't mean ... When I went into the restaurant, I just wanted to get some coffee. I'd been at the hospital with my mom the night before and I'd gotten home late, and I haven't been sleeping well. Anyway, that's what was on my mind. And then you called out to me, you were so ... Happy to see me, and then you sort of begged me to go along with it, didn't you?"

"I wasn't begging."

"No, sorry that's the wrong word. I meant ... you told me to go along with it."

"I did."

"So I did. I sat down and you smiled at me and I felt ... at peace. I felt like I could help you not feel so bad for being stood up on your date. I didn't expect ... I didn't expect to like you so much."

My stomach turns at those words, but I can't lose focus. "Why didn't you tell me who you were, then?"

"I wanted to, but ... My life is a mess right now, Chloe. I'm not looking for a relationship. I thought, I thought we'd have a nice breakfast, and then I'd go on my way and you'd go on yours."

"And that I'd find out afterwards who you weren't?"

"I didn't get that far in my head. We just kind of ... launched into conversation, and then that waitress was there, with her accusing eyes, looking at me like I was an asshole."

"Which you kind of were."

"Which I definitely was." He smiles, then it drops.

"Oh," I say. "Is that ... was your card really lost or stolen?"

"No."

"You didn't want me to see your real name."

"I couldn't risk it. I didn't want you to find out like that, there, in front of everyone."

"You didn't want to be embarrassed."

"I didn't want you to be embarrassed."

"And then?"

"I thought that would be it, but then we ran into each other at the Met."

"You couldn't just pretend you didn't see me?"

"I know, but I didn't want that. I thought, I'll take her around the museum and I'll find a way to tell her. I was just waiting for the right moment."

"Which never came?"

"I tried to tell you at the lake, but then we got interrupted ..."

I turn to him. "And then you kissed me."

"I didn't plan it, Chloe. I didn't mean for it to happen. I couldn't help myself."

"But you still didn't tell me."

"I was doing it. I was in the middle of doing it when—"

"—Your dad called?"

"Yes. And he told me that my mom ..." His voice breaks. "My mom... that she might not make it through the night. She's been having trouble breathing and ..."

"Is she ... did she ..."

"No, no, she survived that crisis, thank God, but it's only a matter of time."

"I'm so sorry, Ben."

"Thank you."

He rubs his hands over his face. "Anyway, the next day I wanted to call you, to tell you what had happened, but I realized I didn't have your number. That I didn't even know your last name."

"Yeah."

"When did you find out?"

"That night. I texted you to see how your mom was doing."

"That was nice of you."

"Only it wasn't you. It was Jack."

"The one who stood you up."

I feel the need to defend him. "He didn't. I mean, he did, but it wasn't his fault. He got pulled into a work thing and he thought he'd texted me, but it didn't go through and ... Anyway, he's really nice."

"You've met him?"

My face starts to burn. "Yeah, I ... When you turned out not to be him, we went on a date. Two, actually."

"Ah."

"Are you mad?"

"No, of course not. I ... It doesn't matter."

"Ben," I say. "Tell me."

He gives me a sad smile. "I thought we had a connection, that's all."

I start to laugh, slowly at first, but then harder.

"What?"

"You don't even know what I've been through, trying to find you."

"You were trying to find me?"

"How do you think I ended up here?"

"It's not a coincidence?"

"I've been looking for you, ever since I found out you weren't Jack."

I tell him what I did. How I thought of the Missing poster for the BookBox, how it almost got me fired, how it turned up nothing.

"Wow," Ben says. "And all I did was some Facebook and Google searches."

"What did you search for on Google?"

"Chloe + boxes."

"I guess that's all you knew, hunh?"

"Yeah."

"It was your idea, not going over the normal details." I sigh. "But I guess that was because you didn't want me to figure out who you weren't."

"You make me sound like a villain."

"I don't mean to."

"It's fine. It's my own stupid fault."

"What about Rachel?"

"We are broken up."

"Why? She seems great."

"You've met her?"

Oh God. Me and my stupid mouth.

"No, I ... Once I saw that post on Dave's Facebook page, I kind of ... well I couldn't help snooping."

"I totally get it."

"So, Rachel?"

"Rachel is great, for someone else."

"Why?"

He shakes his head. "That's a long story. But since I spent several years dating her, you'll just have to trust me on that one."

"Who broke up with who?"

"That's a bit personal, isn't it?"

"Seriously? After all you put me through?"

"Okay, okay. If I tell you it was a mutual decision, will you believe me?"

I cock my head to the side. "Breakups are never mutual."

"I guess I did it, then."

"And she still has feelings?"

He looks away. "I don't know. Maybe."

"And you?"

"No," he says firmly and I feel relieved.

"So why still hang out with her?"

"Because we've been friends for a million years, and we're in the same friend group and I wasn't entirely sure that if I asked them to choose that they'd choose me."

"Oh."

He smiles briefly. "Yeah, and ... my mom was really invested in our relationship."

"She doesn't know."

"She has enough to deal with without thinking her son was going to be alone forever."

"I get it." I put my hands on my thighs. "So where does that leave us?"

"Remember when I said before that I wasn't in the right frame of mind for a relationship?"

"I've been trying to forget you said that, actually."

He smiles. "The thing is ..."

"Yeah?"

"It's still true. I wish ... I wish I'd met you at literally any other time in my life, Chloe, I really do."

"When you were still dating Rachel?"

"Not going to cut me any slack, hunh?"

"Again, after everything I've been through to find you?"

"I get it. I do. I'm disappointed too. But it wouldn't be fair to you and it wouldn't be fair to me to start anything right now. I don't want to hurt you. And to be frank, I don't want to lose the possibility of you."

"The possibility of me?"

"It's been nice, these last couple of weeks, thinking about the fact that you were out there, somewhere. That maybe, when all of this is settled, maybe then we can be together."

"If you found me."

"Yeah. But it was a fantasy, Chloe. So that part was assured."

"And in reality? You want me to, what ... Just wait for you?"

"I'm not asking you to do that, no."

"What if I want to?"

He turns to me and takes my hands in his. His touch is a shock. "I can't let you do that. I don't know when—if—I'll ever be ready. I can't think that far ahead. If I do, I have to think about my mother not being here anymore and I can't do that. I can't. Do you understand?"

"I'm trying to."

His eyes lock with mine and I can't help but stare back. And there he is, there's the man I spent the day with, the man who kissed me, who couldn't help himself, whose face is coming closer, closer, closer to mine. I keep my eyes open this time, I want to see it coming, but then he stops.

"I can't. I can't, Chloe, I'm sorry." He lets my hands go and pulls back.

"It doesn't have to be serious. We could just ... hang out, see what happens."

"You think we could do that? Not be serious? That's why you went to all those lengths to find me. Just to be casual?"

"No, you're right."

"Maybe we can be friends."

I laugh but it feels bitter. "No, oh, no. I have enough friends."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry, Ben, but I can't. That would be too hard for me."

"Yeah."

"You've got friends, though, yes? People who can support you?"

He nods slowly. "Yes."

"Your sister? I remember you mentioned her."

"Yeah. She's been great. And other people too."

"Dave?"

"Dave's all right."

"Tiff kind of sucks, though."

He laughs. "She does, doesn't she?"

I stand. "I should go."

"Okay."

I hug him quickly and he hugs me back, holding me close. It feels great, but this hug was a bad idea, because I don't want to let go. I want to sink into it and stay here forever.

I pull away. "Nice to meet you, Ben."

"Nice to meet you, Chloe."

I walk to the door. I want to stay. To talk to Ben until the rain stops. To beg him to change his mind, but I'm not going to do any of those things.

I do say one last thing, though. "You know how rare this is, right? That this might not happen again, for either of us?"

"I hope that's not true, for you."

"Me too."

And then I do leave, holding back my tears, until I'm out on the street, and the rain covers them.