Chapter 13

13

MEREDITH

W hat am I doing? The question hounds me the entire morning, and I still can’t come up with a good answer. What am I doing? I ask myself as I carefully curl my hair. What am I doing? I ask as I swipe on mascara. What am I doing? I ask as I slip on a top that shows off my cleavage. Each time, I tell myself I’m just getting ready as per usual. Each time, I know I’m lying to myself. What am I doing? I ask myself as I drop Luca off at Clara’s. (At least she’s less pissy this time because I asked her in advance, and also gave her a luxury gift basket as a thank-you for her trouble. The hamper was actually a gift from one of my new sponsors, but I thought it unnecessary to tell her such petty details.)

What

Am

I

Doing?

I ask as I drive to Alhambra and park outside another of Ben’s open houses. I’m meeting a friend. You can’t judge me. There is nothing wrong about me and Ben being friends. Except you had years to become friends. The entire time, Aspen was pushing you two to become friends, but you kept rejecting it—kept coming up with reasons to hate him. And this whole time, the real reason was because you were jealous of him. Because you saw Ben as the person who had come between you and your best friend. And now that that said best friend is out of the way, you see Ben as—what? Fair game?

I shake off the thought, rumpling my soft waves as I walk up the front steps of the house. Kindly shut the fuck up, please, mind. I’m only here to view a house. Because now that my social media accounts are booming, it’s wise to be looking for a home to invest in. I can’t live in a one-bedroom apartment with my baby forever.

Ben looks surprised to see me, but a delighted surprise, not an “Oh god, what is she doing here?” surprise. At least, I hope it’s not that kind of surprise. He excuses himself from the handful of viewers he’s chatting with and strolls toward me with his hands inside his pockets. It’s a disarmingly adorable move, and I find myself shifting from one foot to the other, trying to present to him my most attractive angle. Stop that. He’s your best friend’s husband.

Well, ex-best friend.

“What brings you to this side of town?” he asks with a smile that says: I’m glad you’re here.

My insides heat up. Careful, Mer. You are playing a dangerous game here. Shut up, shut up. “Well, I heard that there’s an open house being held by one of LA’s up-and-coming real estate agents, so…”

“Up-and-coming, huh?”

I give a playful shrug. “So I heard from the grapevine.”

Ben laughs. “It’s great to see you again, Mer. You looking for something for you and Luca?” He gestures at the house, which is bigger than the last one I saw. “This one is a bit too big for just the two of you, I think.”

Something in the way he says it both stings and excites me. “Who says it’s just for the two of us?”

Ben’s eyebrows rise. “Oh? Is there a new guy in your life?”

Forget my cheeks, my entire face feels hot. I turn away from him and pick up a brochure from the kitchen counter. “I mean, I’m not saying no. But I’m not saying yes either.” I busy myself with flipping through the brochure. Luckily, Ben is distracted by the other viewers who have just finished their tour of the bedrooms. While he chats with them, I take the chance to nip into the bathroom and check my reflection.

I definitely have more makeup on than usual. My lips are fully plumped up and are practically begging to be kissed. The sight of them, so much more pillowy than usual, makes my stomach curdle with shame. Again, the million-dollar question: What am I doing?

“Mer, you still here?” Ben calls out from down the hallway.

“Yeah,” I say quickly. I swipe my hair away from my face and come out of the bathroom.

The absence of the other viewers is painfully palpable. The entire house is so quiet that I can hear every sound we’re making. Ben leans against the counter. “Cookie? They’re fresh out of the oven.”

“No, thanks.” I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to say next. There’s a stiff pause as we both look at each other and grope about for something to say.

“Do you want…a tour of the place?” Ben says at the same time as I blurt out, “She got too big for me.”

We both freeze. I wonder if that was the wrong thing to say, if he even heard it at all over the sound of his own voice, if I should take it back, if—

Then Ben nods. “Yeah.” He takes a deep inhale, holds it for a few seconds, then sighs, long and hard. “She got too big for me too.” He pulls out one of the chairs at the kitchen island and gestures for me to take a seat.

I do so, and Ben plucks a glass of wine from a row of glasses he’s prepared. He takes one for himself, and we clink glasses. I sip slowly, wondering which of us is going to go first.

“I have to say, I never saw it coming with you two, though,” Ben says after a beat. He regards me over his wineglass, his gaze appraising me with obvious approval.

The wine goes down cold but warms up my belly. Or maybe it’s the way Ben is looking at me that’s getting me all heated up. “Yeah, me neither. I really thought she was my ride or die.”

“You wanna know something ridiculous?” Ben says.

“What?” I lean closer.

“I was always jealous of your friendship.”

I nearly snort my wine out my nose. “No way. I was jealous of your relationship!” I want to swallow the words back as soon as they’re out. I shouldn’t have said that. That sounds so pathetic and childish.

But Ben’s expression softens, as though I didn’t just say something unbelievably petty. He lowers his eyes and strokes the rim of his glass with his index finger. “Yeah,” he mutters. “I always got the feeling that I was in the way of your friendship.”

I shrug. “You sort of were, in the beginning. But then I saw how good you are for her.”

He smiles bitterly. “I don’t know about that. I doubt Aspen sees me that way. Lately, I just feel like I’m a hindrance to her as she blazes down a path to conquer the world.”

“Hah! I am very familiar with that feeling.” I raise my glass, and he meets it with a satisfying clink once again.

“When I first met her, she was so different.” His eyes get this faraway look and I know what they’re seeing: Aspen eight years ago, girlish and—not so much naive but fully aware of her naivety, happy to look up to everyone else and play submissive follower. Her eyes and smiles were always open and trusting. Whatever you think is best, Mer! she’d say. “I felt like—” He grimaces. “This is going to sound really stupid, I know, feel free to give me a hard time over it, but…I felt like a man. Like I was there to protect her.” He takes another gulp of wine. “How’s that for some alpha male bullshit, huh?”

I laugh. “Wow, Ben. That is indeed some alpha male bullshit. Never took you for that kind of guy, honestly.”

“I’m not. I swear, I’m not some chest-thumping, gun-toting meathead. But I just—in some small way, I liked feeling like I could shield Aspen from whatever bad stuff’s out there.”

You could protect me. Luca and I are all alone in the world. The words pop into my head out of nowhere. Fortunately, they don’t make it through the filter between my brain and my mouth, but I feel guilty anyway, as though he can read my shameful thoughts. “It’s not as ridiculous as you think it is,” I mutter, then quickly swallow more wine before I say anything else.

“Well I sure as hell don’t feel like that anymore. Not nowadays. I’m just one of the millions of chores that Aspen has to tick off every evening.” Ben leans closer to me, close enough for me to smell the spicy scent of his aftershave. “What happened between the two of you?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Aspen? She’s a closed book. And even if I did manage to pry the book open, it would be written in Russian or something.”

I can’t tell if the fact that Aspen hasn’t told Ben means our fight shattered her the same way it did me or that it meant nothing to her. Maybe she’s forgotten about me entirely. “Like I said, she got too big for me. We used to talk every day. Like, from the moment we got up, we’d—”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” Ben laughs. “I was so sick of you, Mer.”

I grin ruefully. “Sorry, not sorry. We were tight. But then she got big, and she found other big influencer friends, I guess. Our chats became more sparse. I would message her, and it would be hours before she responded. I’d ask if we could hang out—I mean, you know better than anyone else, we used to hang out every day! But she started giving these bullshit excuses. ‘Sorry, Mer, I have a meeting to get to.’ ‘Oh no, Mer, I’m going to be so swamped today!’ And on and on. A million reasons boiling down to the same damn thing: that she no longer had time for me. I wasn’t important enough for her.” I can’t bear to look at Ben as I spill the truth, so I train my gaze at my glass of wine. “I tried to be okay with it for the longest time, I really did. But then one day I just…snapped. I exploded on her. I told her she was the fakest friend I’ve ever had.”

Ben sucks in his breath through his teeth, and I grimace. “Yeah, it was bad. I was screaming at her, and she looked so—” My breath catches in my throat, and I have to pause to keep my voice even. “She looked anguished. But also like she pitied me. I couldn’t stand having her look at me that way. Who the hell does she think she is? I told her never to call me again and I stormed off.” I’m burning with shame now, so I try to lighten the mood by adding, “It was super dramatic.” I laugh to hide how much telling the truth has wounded me, but Ben doesn’t join in.

“That’s messed up,” he says.

“I know, I’ve always had a bad temper, I—”

“No, Mer,” he says quietly. “I mean the way Aspen treated you. That’s messed up.”

I finally look up at him and immediately get lost in his aquamarine eyes. There is a connection here, a surprisingly deep one, forged through both of our bitter experiences with Aspen. Here is the one person in the world who understands completely, without reservation, how I feel.

But—god—haven’t I done enough to Aspen already? The worst thing she ever did to me was to outgrow our friendship. What am I doing? Stealing her husband? Am I really going to stoop that low? Be The Other Woman?

But maybe it’s the wine or the unbearable loneliness gnawing at my heart ever since I lost Aspen, or maybe it’s the falling-off-a-cliff feeling that I get when I think of a life with nobody but Luca. One day he’ll turn eighteen and leave me, too, and I’ll be all alone. Maybe it’s all of these things and none of them. Maybe, maybe.

Whatever it is driving that need, the same force lifts my hand and places it on top of Ben’s. He shifts, and for a horrifying second, I think he’s going to pull his hand away. Instead, he flips it over so it is palm up, my hand now in his, and his fingers wrap around mine and squeeze. I can feel the thump of his heart in the warm palm of his hand, and it is as though we’re holding the entire universe together. The space between us thrums with electricity. I’m seeing Ben in a whole new light: not as my best friend’s husband, or her irritating boyfriend, but as his own separate entity. A man.

I notice, now, how his left eyebrow slopes ever so gently downward, just a little. The asymmetry gives his face more depth. I take in the aquamarine of his eyes and the way his brown lashes catch the light, turning them golden. My gaze settles on the curve of his lips, the little notch in his bottom lip that highlights their plumpness. Ben isn’t just pleasant looking; Ben is handsome. He’s very handsome.

And his eyes are drinking me in, too, as though, like me, he’s seeing the person for the first time. Inch by inch, we close the space between us. All of my senses are heightened. I feel superhuman—so sensitive that I can practically feel every air molecule grazing my skin. Then our lips meet, featherlight, and a soft whimper escapes me because it’s been so long since I was touched like this. Then harder; a longer, deeper kiss. I’m kissing Ben. I’m—

What are you doing?

I jerk back a split second before the front door opens. In my sheer panic, there is a dreadful moment where I think the person standing at the doorway is Aspen. Then my senses return, and I see that it isn’t. In fact, her height and build and the way she wears her hair are probably more similar to mine.

“Liv!” Ben cries, jumping to his feet. He looks about as horrified to see her as can be possible. I mean, the way he’s reacting, she might as well be Aspen. “What are you doing here?”

I wince. His voice is too shrill, guilt coursing through it in palpable waves. Come on, Ben. You need to be better at this.

Liv’s gaze ping-pongs back and forth between Ben and me, an awkward smile plastered on her face. She looks beautiful in a way that I’m familiar with. There’s a very specific type of beauty that TikTokers have—uber plumped-up lips and eyelashes that graze the eyebrows. So, a TikToker. I stand and offer her my hand. “Hi, I’m Meredith Lee. And you are?” I hope I’m coming off a lot more confident than I feel.

“I’m Liv. Aspen’s PA.” Her grip is strong, her expression knowing.

Behind me, Ben is shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The familiar irritation that I used to feel when it came to anything involving Ben rises up. I feel an inexplicable urge to smack him and snap, Stop fidgeting .

I force myself to keep my attention on Liv. “Oh, right! Of course. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Hmm.” Liv nods with a close-lipped smile. Then she turns to face Ben. “Aspen thinks you took her iPad by mistake. I’m here to pick it up.”

“Huh?” Ben gapes at her, and I can’t believe that only two minutes ago, I had thought he was handsome. What the hell came over me?

“Aspen’s iPad,” Liv says patiently, as though explaining something to a toddler. “Can you maybe check your bag?”

Ben frowns. “I doubt it would be in there. Aspen hardly ever goes into my briefcase…” Then he lights up. “Ah, maybe my car. Yeah, she used it to go to the store last night. I’ll go check.” He hurries out of the house, obviously eager to get away from Liv and me.

The silence he leaves behind is excruciating. Time to make my exit. I busy myself with gathering my phone and my purse, studiously avoiding all eye contact.

“What brings you here?” Liv says. Her tone is conversational, but her eyes are shrewd. Too shrewd. “Are you looking to buy?”

I force a smile. “Yeah. My kid’s getting a bit big for the apartment, so.” I shoulder my purse.

Liv considers me coolly. “Weren’t you and Aspen close before?”

What the hell is she trying to get at? I feel myself bristling. It’s a fight to keep the smile on my face. “Yep. We were.”

“And now you’re not, so you’re seducing her husband for revenge?” Liv says it so casually, in the tone one might use to order a kale and strawberry salad, that it takes a second for my mind to grasp the actual words.

“Found it!” Ben calls out, waving the iPad above his head triumphantly. He strides in with all the confidence of a mediocre man and hands Liv the iPad with a huge grin. “Anything else?” he says.

Liv tucks the iPad in her bag. “No, thank you, Ben. So helpful as always. See you! And Meredith, so nice to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so much about you.” She gives me a nod and a knowing smile and walks out of the house.

Once she’s gone, Ben releases his breath in a loud sigh and mimes wiping his forehead. He widens his eyes at me. “Phew, that was a close call, huh?”

I stand there, frozen. His hand crawls toward mine, and I jump when his fingers wrap around mine. I can’t yank my hand away fast enough.

“Whoa, hey, you okay?” Ben says.

I jerk my head up and down and realize only when I follow Ben’s gaze that I’m wiping my hand on my jeans, as though his touch sullied it. “I think Liv saw us.”

Ben pales, but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Nah, she didn’t. I can tell.”

“No, Ben, she—”

“Trust me. Liv’s so…” He mimes fireworks around his head. “She’s so bubbly and—you know, kind of ditzy. If she saw us, we would know.”

Anger burns an acidic path up my chest. “So just because she’s ‘bubbly’ you think she’s too fucking stupid to pretend she didn’t see?”

Ben’s mouth drops open. “That’s not what I said at all. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“That’s literally what you said,” I snap.

“I didn’t!”

“You fucking did!”

Ben raises his hands, shaking his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I think you need to leave now. You and Aspen are exactly the same crazy bitches.”

“The only reason crazy bitches exist is because there’s always some asshole gaslighting us into losing our shit,” I hiss.

Ben utters a short, mirthless laugh. “Okay, Mer. Whatever. Aspen’s right, there is no reasoning with you.”

More than anything, this is the one that cuts real deep. The knowledge that Aspen bitched to Ben about me. But of course she would; he’s her husband. Her husband whom I just kissed. Whom her personal assistant saw me kissing. God, how did this day get so utterly fucked?

“Fuck you, Ben,” I growl, and stomp out of there before he can get a last word in.