Chapter Sixty-Four Naomi

Chapter Sixty-Four

Naomi

Thursday, May 25, 2023, one night before her death

The rain has stopped by the time I get to the city. Ben meets me at the station and walks me to his uncle’s place, a modern loft in the West Village. It’s concrete and glass, stark and empty, with a Rothko painting on one wall and a security camera in the entryway. Far from the plant- and music-filled haven of Ben’s dorm room.

He notices me shivering and frowns. “Are you cold? I can turn up the heat.”

“I’m okay.” I wrap my arms around myself and try to stop shivering. Ben disappears into his uncle’s room and returns with a sweatshirt as I’m struggling with my suitcase.

“Let me get that.” He hands me the sweatshirt and takes my suitcase. “You can sleep here.” He nods at the guest room. “I’ll stay in my uncle’s room.”

In the kitchen, Ben fills a glass with water for me. When he opens the fridge, I notice it’s empty besides a jar of kimchee, condiments, and several bottles of Sapporo.

“Thanks,” I say, accepting the glass. “For this.” I gesture around. “It means a lot that you’d let me stay here.” Ben’s turned up the heat and it’s warmer now. He seems so comfortable in this space. I still can’t quite merge the image I have of Ben with the Ben that spent his high school years living in this cold house.

“Stay as long as you’d like…I’d stay with you if I didn’t have to go back to Singapore.” His face falls. He hesitates. “My dad had another stroke and it’s too much for my mom to deal with alone. I’m not even staying for graduation.”

I look up at him. “I’m so sorry.”

We fall silent, looking away, waiting for the other person to say something. Being here alone with Ben, I feel a tremor of what we had before…that thrill when I’d first started falling for him back in October. I don’t know what we’re doing, whether he can forgive me, but I catch myself wondering…

“Mind if I sit down?” I ask, moving toward the couch.

“Oh, yeah, go for it. I know it’s not exactly cozy, but make yourself at home.”

I take a seat on the couch and pull out my phone to see if Marta’s answered. She hasn’t. I sit back on the couch and sigh.

Ben slides into the chair across from me. “No luck?”

I shake my head. “I don’t get it. She seemed like she was going to help. And then…nothing.”

He touches my arm. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll figure it out.”

—

That night, Ben and I try to talk about anything but the investigation. We put James Blake on his uncle’s record player and look through some 35mm stills Ben took of people around the city, trying to select the best ones. Ben explains that the girl who’d shown up to his game was a family friend whom his mother wanted him to marry, that they’d been off and on for over a year, and he’d tried to end things long before the soccer game. It makes me think of Liam and me…how the ends of relationships are often messierthan we want them to be…messier than people pretend they are.

As he talks, my mind wanders. Ben makes me feel calm and safe and beautiful. This is the type of guy I want to be with. I find myself picturing a life with him: indie warehouse concerts, photography exhibits, conversations about space and time and the meaning of life. I wonder if someday he’d invite me to Singapore to meet his family. I hope his dad’s okay.

—

I wake up in the middle of the night, my heart thundering in my chest, and for a moment, I forget where I am. As my eyes adjust, I take in the large windows, the painting on the wall, two muted blocks of color. I must have fallen asleep on the couch while Ben was talking, because he’s draped a blanket over me.

Suddenly, everything rushes back—the investigation, Marta. Unable to fall back asleep, I rise from the couch and tiptoe upstairs to his bedroom. “Ben?” I whisper into the dark loft.

He stirs. Lifts his head. “Hey. Come here.” He lifts the covers forme.

I slip under the covers and hesitate for a moment, not sure if this is too much. It’s been a long time since we slept in the same bed, and even then, I’d never quite gotten used to it. But he reaches for me, and I fit myself against his warm body. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, and I fall asleep to the steady beat of his heart.

The next morning, Ben kisses me on the cheek before he leaves for the airport. “If you need anything, just text. I’m here. I’ll keep my phone on the whole flight so you can reach me if anything happens.”

I look at him, wishing he could stay. “I’ll be fine.”

“Take care of yourself.” He gives my arm one last squeeze before walking out the door.