A dozen thoughts seemed to stream through Serafina's eyes, like a parade of sorrows, while she took all that in. My stomach still felt like a knot, but I couldn't deny there was also some relief. Sadie was out there now. I didn't have to live under her weight and the worry of what Sera would say when she found out.
Now Sera could stay or go.
“Okay,” Sera whispered.
My brows rose.
“Okay,” she said again, eyes on mine this time. “Thank you. That helps. The context will help.”
“You're really going to stay?”
Sera softened. “Of course, Benjamin.” She stood up slowly, and I wondered if her wince was from more than her ribs. She'd been so vague when I asked her about what happened with her brother. Had he hurt her somewhere else?
I scrambled to my feet.
“Thank you,” I said. “I can't tell you how much it means. This will be better for her. So much better.”
As always, she waved it off, downplaying my gratitude. She padded over to the front door, where a pile of shoes in various stages of muddy disaster were piled. Then she slipped into a pair of flip-flops on the edge and eyed it, like a monster she’d tackle the next day.
“I'll drive you home,” I said. “Ava sleeps like the dead, and it's just a mile away.”
She opened her mouth to protest, then nodded. “Thanks.”
The ride to her hotel room was quiet as I dropped her off. She slid carefully out of the car, poorly attempted to hide a wince, then turned back to face me again. “Leave me some money for grocery shopping tomorrow?” she asked.
“Sure.”
With a tired smile, she shut the door and disappeared. I waited until she made it back inside her room, then sent a cold glare to a man as he watched her go. The man held up two hands and stumbled away, singing under his breath. For several long moments, I sat there, lost in thought.
Then I turned back to home, Serafina cluttering my mind.
9
Serafina
That night, I stared at the dark shadows on the hotel ceiling and wished Benjamin was still there. Then I banished that thought.
For today, I'd had enough of Benjamin. The distance was good, even though I thought I could still smell him. He filled my head and took up space, even when I didn't want him to. Being in his house, privy to his past, only made it worse.
Although I'd seen him for no more than an hour all day, he lingered in the shadows of the day. The quiet corners of a house that was so forgotten that it would have felt sterile if there wasn't a dirty haze over it. The protein powder next to a fridge stocked with milk and oranges and not much else. Even the piles of laundry smelled a little bit like him. It felt a little like he'd followed me around all day, but hadn't said a word.
Weary didn't do justice to the state of my mind, but my exhaustion had advanced beyond sleep. Now I just felt wired, trapped in thoughts of Talmage, Ava, and Benjamin. Why, out of the three of them, did I feel like Benjamin was the most broken?
Frustrated, I punched the pillow and gingerly turned onto my other side. I was too emotionally involved in this already. I shouldn't have asked him to explain himself. Should have just cleaned his house, stocked his fridge, and given him the receipt to pay me back later. It's what Mom would have done, and in these kinds of things, she always did the right thing.
But I'd asked.
And he'd answered.
He could have let it go. Refused to tell me the history between Sadie and Ava. But there had been enough concern and desperation in his eyes that he gave it all up. Now, both of us were mired deeper into this pool of . . . whatever it was. Deep enough that I wouldn't escape now. Not yet, anyway.
I could help with Ava, organize his life, and get his house clean. Eventually, he'd pull back together. That would give Talmage time to work through whatever he had going on, and then I could move onto my next adventure.
Because the whole nanny-turned-girlfriend thing had never sounded right to me. Wouldn't be right for Ava. Benjamin would get mixed up in his feelings of gratitude and affection for me being a positive influence over his daughter, think it meant something about