Finally, she asked, “What do you propose, Ben? Is this you breaking—” Her brow furrowed into deeper confusion. “What does this mean?”
“I don't know.”
Her nostrils flared. “You can have it or you can't, Ben,” she said furiously. “You brought this up. You have decided for me that I won't benefit from an arrangement that previously made me very happy. You tell me what you want now.”
The feeling of being a selfish jerk that I'd been trying to avoid all this time started to creep up. Had I completely misinterpreted all of this? How could she possibly find joy in a relationship that didn't offer something back?
I just didn't want to be Sadie.
Didn't want to destroy Sera the way Sadie destroyed me. Until I was in a position to do more for Sera, how could this ever be fair?
“I want you to be happy and safe,” I finally said. “That's all I will ever want for you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and moved back a step. “No,” she whispered, and moved back another. “That's a damn lie, Benjamin Mercedy. A lie you're telling yourself to feel better. You don't want that more than something else, because I was happy and safe. You made me feel safe. Being with you and Ava brought me joy. I understand that you're trying, in some convoluted way, to do what seems right in your head. But you're missing the point.” She pressed a trembling hand to her chest. “I'm. Not. Sadie.”
“I never thought you were,” I said quickly. “You could never be Sadie. You're too good Sera. I am the Sadie in this situation.”
She softened slightly. “But you aren't either,” she added quietly. Her head tilted to the side with a sorrow that stunned me. “You're afraid, Ben. That's what's wrong here. This isn't about me—not really. This is about Sadie and her hold on you. Until you let her go, you're right. We aren't ready for each other. You can't give enough to me, Ben, simply because you don't even have enough for yourself. Sadie still does. You can't even let yourself see what a good dad you are. It's like she's still whispering in your ears, or something.”
“Sera . . .”
But my response died. I didn't know what to say. Her jaw tightened when her gaze dropped to the ground. Another silence followed, as if she debated something, before she finally pulled in a deep breath. Her shoulders set. The abyss of fatigue in her expression made me want to reach for her, but I held back.
“I wasn't going to tell you,” she said, “because you have a lot going on right now, but you should know that Talmage overdosed two days ago.”
My jaw dropped. “What?”
“Jayson took me to Talmage's house on my lunch break yesterday and we found him. He's fine,” she added, “for now. My mom signed him out of jail and he's agreed to try a rehab place back at home. They're already gone.”
“Sera, I'm so sorry.”
Tears glittered in her eyes. “I had planned to stay in Pineville because of you and Ava. Because I love you both. But if being apart is really what you want, I won't stay. So if this is the path you want, I need you to be sure. Once I leave, I won't be coming back.”
A tear dripped down her cheek. Words failed me. With one last haunted gaze, she turned and walked out the front door. It closed quietly behind her, the snick of the lock like a bomb in the night.
I slowly lowered to the couch and hung my head in my hands.
26
Serafina
The quiet shuffle of the coffee shop below settled around me as I cried. Hot tears broke through my fingers and dropped onto my pillow. Not for the first time, I wished Mom back already. Wanted her to play with my hair the way Ben had only a few days ago. Reassure me that every darkness would eventually fade.
Now, I just felt stupid.
Crushed. Blind. Confused. Livid. The emotions knotted up in a giant tangle deep in my chest until I didn't know one from the other. In some more perverse ways, this ending came as a relief. A relief that whatever gorgeous thing Benjamin and I could have had ended, because I supposed I'd always thought it would. All of them did, eventually, because none of them ever inspired me to stay. Leaving had been easy after the initial drama of pain.