Bittersweet (Ocean View #3)

by Morgan Elizabeth

“I think I fell for you that first day.” My entire body goes still. “Banging pans and playing shitty music like your life depended on it. Singing like a dying cat, not fucking locking your door then yelling at me like it was my fault. Threatening to call the cops. I loved that you didn’t take my shit.” “Ben, that makes—” “Maybe it was when you spilled your coffee on me and looked like your entire day was falling apart.” “You spilled my coffee,” I say because I won’t let that one get past me. “Every muscle in my body needed to make your day better.” I stop breathing. “Or maybe when I saw you pinned, scared as fuck. Knew I needed you to be mine because I needed to take care of you. It was clear no one had been doing it until me.” “Ben, I—” My voice has gone soft, and I don’t think he can even hear me, so stuck in his story and my eyes. “But that first day. I knew it then. A part of me, at least.” “I—” I hear my own voice has gone soft with resignation. There’s no way. He’s sweet, saying it, but— “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“But that’s not it, Lola. Do you think you’ll ever sit down and do what you’re told? Doubt it. You lived that life and used up your emotional availability to listen to any man telling you what to do. Now you’re your own person. But while you’re that, you’re also going to be mine. And you’re going to drive me up a fucking wall, and I’m gonna say dumb shit, and it will make you slam a door in my face, and we’re gonna fight, and you’re gonna wake me up too fucking early, and I’m gonna use my mouth to convince you to stay in bed longer, but we’re gonna live the good life, Lola. And we’re gonna do it together.” I blink at him, his words not processing. What is he . . . Is he saying what I think he’s saying? “I’m saying you're mine and I’m keeping you. I like this back and forth shit. It fuels me. If it ended, I’d be pissed as shit. I’m saying I love what’s between us, and you’re not just gonna walk away. That your mind isn’t going to fuck this up because it’s too fucking good between us.” “I drive you crazy,” I say as an argument, because I do. “And I love it. And I drive you crazy, and you fucking love it too, Lola.” I try and think, try to get my brain to work, but I already know. I know he’s right. I do love it.

But the reality is, a love based on hatred is doomed to fail. Right? That’s how this works.

“This won’t work, Ben. It’s . . . It’s too filled with adrenaline to be something real.” There. Easy, succinct, but still exactly what my mind is telling me. Of course, Ben does not accept this. “Are you so scared to be let down, so scared this will end badly, you can’t see it for what it is? Are you—” “It’s not—” “Let me finish,” he demands, his forehead moving to press to mine in a sweet, intimate move. I close my mouth. “You will drive me insane until the day I die, I think.” I screw up my nose in irritation, and he laughs. Not helping. “You will drive me insane, but baby, it’s in a way I fuckin’ love. In a way I can’t get enough of. You know me. You’ve met me. Do you think I want some sweet, compliant thing who will always listen to me? Do you think I want things to come easy?” I stop and think about it.

“Jesus Christ, Lola. I want you because you’re fucking mine.” That stops me. Stops my mind. “I want you because you’re loyal as fuck. I want you because you do whatever is needed for the people you love. I want you because when you stick up for yourself, it’s a fucking spectacular fireworks show. I want you because even you don’t know what’s at the core of you. You haven’t gotten that deep, haven’t let yourself dig. I think your mom had it, but it got buried. And I’ll fight day in and day out until you let it free.” “And when it’s done?” “Then I’ll have all of you.” “And you’ll get bored.” “When a man works that hard for something that beautiful? He never lets it go, Lola. Never. He cherishes that. And that’s what you really want, baby, To be cherished. You want me to prove I deserve that last kernel and spend every day until my last breath proving I deserve it.”

“You’ll work to get me?” I ask, my voice small. His face lights up with my words, and I know then. I know before he answers. He means every single word. “Yeah, sweet girl. I’ll work to keep you.” And though it’s a small change in the phrasing, it’s everything I need to hear.

This time, we’re going to be with his family, to spend time with them, and, from what Ben tells me, inevitably get into some kind of argument. But with everything we’ve gone through, I know we’ll be fine.

“You know I love you, Lola,” he says, his voice whisper soft, breath brushing my lips, my stomach tumbling in circles with his words. It’s the first time he’s said it outright. I should tell him I love him too, that this is right, that I’m happy we found each other. But I’m me. I can’t let him do this. So I smile, smile big—I let that much show before I speak. “Yeah, I know.” His lips tip up, and he puffs out a small laugh, rolling his eyes, but that thumb keeps brushing my skin like a metronome. “Will you ever make it easy on me?” “Would you love me if I did?” I ask in response. “Probably not.” He presses his lips to mine, soft and gentle, before we fall back into our comfortable silence. “You know I love you too, right?” I say, wondering if maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t know, and his own gut is unsure. But Ben knows me. I think he always has. “Yeah, sweet girl. I know.”

“Was that supposed to deter me from breaking rules?” she asks, and then I laugh because I know there is nothing in this world that will make Lola listen to me. The next day we brought home Cooper, a yellow lab mutt.

“Hey, Daddy?” my nosy girl asks. “Yeah, baby?” “How did you put the baby in Mommy’s belly?” Ben looks back at me again with wide eyes, and I raise my hands in the air, backing up and laughing. He can handle that one on his own. I never did like making life easy for him.