When I Was Theirs

9. Emmy

9

Emmy

C asual only.

Ben picks me up from work after every shift. He graduates from waiting outside to sitting at the bar, listening to the music as he watches me work and acts as our unofficial glass collector.

He walks me to my door, and every time, I ask if he’ll come inside.

Every time, he says yes.

It doesn’t feel casual. I’m not sure that it ever did. But neither of us voice it, even as weeks pass.

“I’ve never been to your place,” I murmur one night, as we’re walking home.

His hand tightens in mine. “Emmy—,”

“I know,” I grumble, before he can say it. “Casual only.”

I’m beginning to hate that phrase.

“It’s not—,” Ben stops. Sighs. “We can go to my place. It’s not as nice as yours, though.”

“We can?” I grin up at him, and he taps my nose.

“You’re lethal,” he mutters, but he’s smiling. “Yes, we can. It’s not far from here.”

He’s only a few streets away from me, in a fancy building on a street that faces the ocean. I glance up at the balconies above our heads as he pushes in the security code for the double doors, my tone teasing. “If you tell me you’ve had a balcony to watch the sunrise on all this time, we might have our first argument.”

“I won’t tell you, then.”

I don’t understand what he means about my apartment being nicer. This building is nice . The floors are clean and well-maintained, and he has an elevator.

And, apparently, a damn balcony.

It’s only when he pushes the door open that I see what he means. I step past Ben as he holds the door open.

The open-plan space in front of me… is empty.

Across from me, a raised bed is lined up in view of the double-fronted windows that face out to the water. A small, empty table sits beside it. Not voicing the thoughts running through my head, I force myself to glance accusingly at Ben as I move across to look at the blue stretch of open water that glimmers in the dawn light. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

The view is stunning.

He’s leaning against the door, watching me. And he looks… uncomfortable. “Sorry.”

Aside from the bed, there’s nothing else here. Not a couch. Not a rug. Not a single lamp. Only the bare bulb overhead, and the bed.

Against the far wall, a suitcase and a small clothes rail are the only other items.

“It’s so temporary,” I whisper.

Months , he said. But his apartment looks as if he’s already left.

“Emmy.” Ben says my name haltingly, and I force myself to look at him. “I don’t spend a lot of time here.”

Slowly, I nod, turning back to stare out of the window.

I suck in a breath when I feel him approach. Ben’s chin fits perfectly on top of my head as he encloses me in his arms, and it empties out the tightness in my lungs.

“I’m not going yet,” he whispers. “Not yet.”

For the first time, I give voice to the thoughts inside my head. “I could go with you. When you leave.”

He stiffens, and I twist in his arms, staring up at him.

He looks so tired again. The circles beneath his eyes are almost black today. He tossed and turned for most of the night.

I’ve never slept better than I have with him wrapped around me.

“Emmy,” he says heavily. He’s not looking at me, so I grab his face, pulling it down.

“I would go with you,” I say hoarsely. “I don’t have anything here worth staying for, Ben.”

But maybe I have something worth leaving for.

Ben closes his eyes. And he looks…agonized.

That fear wraps around my ribcage again, constricting it. “You’re not telling me everything.”

His eyes open, endless brown fixing on me. He doesn’t say anything.

“Ben,” I breathe desperately. “Talk to me.”

Tell me why you have an empty apartment.

Tell me why you never go to work.

Tell me why you always look so tired.

The pleas all pile up on my tongue, and I’m too scared to voice any of them.

He doesn’t say anything. But his arms are tight around me, and I press my ear against his chest. I need to hear it.

“You know,” he says hoarsely. “This place could do with some color. Maybe some furniture.”

My grip tightens. “It could?”

Not yet , he said. Not yet.

He nods against me. “Are you tired?”

I should be. I’ve been awake since yesterday morning. But I shake my head.

When he pulls away, I feel the loss of him like a cold wave of air over my body. Ben pushes my hair back, smiling at me.

But it’s a sad smile. “Decorating it is.”