I’m so angry there isn’t a word for it!
Benjamin holds up his hands. “Forgive my bluntness. A few people find it endearing, and by few I mostly mean my mother, but the majority prefer a level of sugarcoating I’m just not good at. I probably should have elegantly segued into that question.”
“No, no, no. Put me in your mom’s camp. I like it too. I’m just not used to it yet.” I puff out my cheeks.
Am I really going to talk about my personal life with Benjamin?
After too many emotionally constipated days, it appears I am.
“My bad weekend has everything to do with that article.” I add a sad head bob of resigned annoyance.
Benjamin takes the statement in stride. “Is it true? The relationship’s fake?”
“No,” I say emphatically, then dip my chin in concession. “I mean it was, but it isn’t anymore.”
The statement unlocks a weekend’s worth of turmoil I’ve been trying to rationalize away. I’m tired of hunkering in on myself. I want to explode. To expand. To let my feelings take up space because I am too small to contain them. I’m not sure people are meant to contain them in the first place. Maybe emotion should be expressed so it doesn’t linger and fester.
If Benjamin digs bluntness, I hope he likes to get as much as he gives, because it’s been a long, quiet weekend and I have a lot to say.
“My friend published that article.”
He grimaces, catching the less than favorable implications right away. Not like they were difficult to see.
“And you didn’t approve?”
I huff in exasperation and cross my arms over my chest. “I most certainly did not. She is so in the wrong.”
“But she wasn’t lying?”
“Not about the way things started. But the way things were going?” The look on Nathan’s face when he realized who was standing in my room flashes through my mind and my heart spasms. “Although I have no idea where they’re going now.”
I explain that stupid text to the group chat, my even stupider request to Nathan, and him bargaining himself a sixty percent discount to pretend my message was for him.
“Sixty percent?” Benjamin looks sufficiently shocked. “That’s predatory!”
“It’s why I called him The Prince of Darkness. We negotiated that price.”
“Predatory or not, you accepted.” Benjamin shrugs. “No judgment, I promise.”
“I was drunk, and I had a pretty big crush on you. I didn’t want that text to be the way you found out.”
How’s that for blunt?
Benjamin looks touched and I hurry on, explaining the lunch meeting where Nathan asked me to pretend to date him and how proud I was to renegotiate myself into a financial gain.
He steeples his hands under his chin as if he’s studying blueprints and watching a building come together. “This explains why I was so worried about your relationship in the beginning. It was every bit as toxic as I feared.”
“Fallon was just as concerned. She suggested we write an article as leverage, or you know, protection, and she’d publish it if Nathan ended up taking advantage of me or whatever. I said no, of course, but she wouldn’t drop it. The other night, I told her I was falling in love, and she told the world we were fake. And then, when I wouldn’t accept her apology, she breaks into my apartment and that’s how Nathan discovered we’re friends. He hates her by the way. Ruthlessly.”
“For the shitty articles she’s posted for months now, I assume.”
“Exactly.” I cock my head, trying to figure out why Benjamin knows so much about a gossip and entertainment blog.
“I researched Nathan when he initially contacted me. Your friend’s articles turned into a giant rubbernecking rabbit hole. She’s vicious. I understand why Nathan hates her. How did he react to learning you knew her?”
“He immediately assumed I was pretending to date him so I could feed Fallon info.”
“Ooof.” Benjamin scrunches up his nose. “So, you’re best friends with Nathan’s archenemy, you know how he feels about her, but somehow get far enough into a relationship to fall in love before he finds out. Are you sure you’re in my mom’s camp?”
“Sure am,” I reply, with more confidence than I feel.
Benjamin huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “We’ll see how you feel about that in a minute. Mina?” he says, leaning his elbows on my desk and cocking his head.
I mimic his posture. “Yes?”
“You’re kind of being an asshole.”
I’d already come to that conclusion, but hearing it from someone else stings.
I sit back and drop my jaw. “So is he!”
“I never said he wasn’t. Fake relationships. Hidden friendships. Nothing about what you two have been doing is up front and honest.”
“I used to joke that we didn’t bring out the best in each other.”
Benjamin licks his lips and bobs his head. “That’s not a great foundation for a relationship. At least not the way I’d build one. But what do I know? I prefer blueprints to people.”
“Seems to me, you know quite a lot.” I reach for my coffee mug, then sigh in frustration to find all that’s left is the last bitter swallow. “What do you think I should do?” I ask as I push the mug away.
