Page 89 of The Long Way Home
Ben narrows his eyes. “You done?”
I say nothing.
His jaw shifts, chewing down a laugh. “God, you really think you’re better than me, don’t you? You walk around like this perfect little victim, acting like I’m the one ruining your life.”
I walk past him toward the bedroom. Talking with Ben is a waste of my time. There is no reasoning when it comes to him. I’d rather spend my time packing a bag to get the hell out of here.
He follows me a few steps, arms crossed as he stands in the doorway. “So now you’re icing me out? What, you think walking around all silent and righteous makes you the bigger person?”
I grab a duffel bag from the closet and drop it on the bed. “I’m not icing you out. I’m finally thinking clearly. You should try it sometime.”
He laughs under his breath. “Right, because you’ve always been the stable one. You drink too much, cry too often, and somehow it’s my fault you’re miserable.”
I turn to face him. “I asked you to show up for me, and you chose poker. Again.”
“It wasone night, Rachel.” He shrugs, dismissive. “You seriously need that much attention? I can’t have just one night with my friends? Do you hear yourself right now?”
“That’s the problem, Ben.” I take a step toward him. “It’s not one night. It’s every night. Every time I ask for more, you act like I’m impossible to deal with. And every time I shrink to keep the peace.”
Ben’s jaw clenches. “And now you want to act like you’ve been so amazing? You don’t think I put up with thingsyoudo?You think you’re easy to love? Newsflash, Rachel, it ain’t that easy.”
I flinch out of reflex. I can’t lie and say no part of me believes him.
“I don’t feel like myself with you,” I say, quieter now. “I feel like I have to earn your affection. I’m too much and not enough all at once. It’s confusing, Ben.”
He takes a step forward, and I think he might try to patch this fight up with fake niceness. But instead I watch a cruel smirk skirt across his face. “No one else would put up with you. You know that, right? The crying, the mood swings, the constant need for validation. You think that’s attractive? You’re lucky I love you, and I’ve stayed as long as I have.”
I step back, but I don’t drop my gaze.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Don’t say something just to hurt me, Ben. Just be honest with yourself.”
“You want honesty? Fine. Honestly, I think you’re selfish, Rachel. You have managed to make everything about you. I bend over backward, and it’s still never enough for you.”
“You don’t bend at all,” I say, exhausted with this conversation. “You avoid. You deflect. You turn every conversation into a way to make me feel smaller.”
Ben’s voice drops to a growl. “So what now? You’re justdone?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I am.”
He stares at me, and for a minute, I can see the anger in his eyes.
I walk into the bedroom, floorboards creaking. I start packing: clothes, chargers, my toothbrush, Rhett’s hoodie. Whatever else I might need, I know I can borrow from Margo. Behind me, I hear him pacing. His steps are heavy and erratic.
“One bad night and you’re throwing this all away?”
“You really think this is about one night, Ben? God, seriously. Aren’t we past this part of the fight already?”
He throws his hands up. “You stormed out afteryoupicked a fight. And now I’m the bad guy? It’s time to grow up, Rachel.”
I pause. My voice is steady but final. “I’m not asking you to take the blame. We’re clearly past that point. I’m telling you it’s over between us.”
I grab my duffel and head out of the bedroom.
Ben’s face twists. “Where do you think you’re going? You think Rhett’s gonna save you? Is that it?”
I freeze. “What?”
“Come on,” he spits. “You think I’m an idiot? I saw the way you look at him. I hate to be the one to tell you, but he doesn’t look at you in the same way you look at him. You really think he would want a girl like you? He’s just being nice. You’re his dead buddy’s sister. He pities you, Rachel. He’ll get tired of you and leave again.”
