Later, as they were leaving, the project manager — a broad-shouldered woman named Carla — shook Olivia’s hand.
« Are you Benjamin’s assistant? » asked Carla.
Olivia opened her mouth to correct her, but Ben simply said, « She’s my friend. »
The word « friend » should have been simple, but it gave Olivia a warmth she didn’t appreciate.
Summer gave way to autumn. Olivia’s editing work became more regular. Ben’s days were filled with projects, field meetings, and rigorous budget management. Eleanor’s « hellos » became less frequent, and Ben hired a part-time home help, a kind woman named Denise who arrived in the afternoon and spoke to Eleanor with the patience and gentleness of someone who knew how to soothe confusion.
Olivia spent more time in the main house, helping to prepare lunch and reading aloud to Eleanor when Ben was out. Some days, Eleanor was clever enough to tease Olivia.
« You have pretty eyes, » Eleanor had told him one day. « Benjamin has always liked girls with pretty eyes. »
Olivia almost dropped the book she had on her lap. « Did he do it? »
Eleanor nodded solemnly. « He pretended not to see anything. But I saw. »
Ben entered the room at that moment, and he had overheard the conversation. « Mom, » he warned her, but there was amusement in his voice.
Eleanor dismissed him with a wave of her hand. « I’m old, Benjamin. Let me have my fun. »
Ben rolled his eyes and walked down the hall with a basket of laundry. Olivia watched him go, her heart pounding.
One beautiful September afternoon, Olivia returned from the café and noticed a car parked along the sidewalk in front of Ben’s house: a dark sedan, too elegant for their street. She slowed down, a shiver of concern running down her neck.
Ben was on the front steps, talking to a man in a blazer. The man turned around as Olivia approached, and she had a bad feeling.
Ethan.
Her ex-husband had changed—thinner, his eyes etched with age—but he wore the same expression he always had when he wanted something. That feigned gentleness. That confidence that she would comply with his demands.
« Olivia, » said Ethan, stepping forward as if they were old friends. « There you are. »
Ben’s gaze fell upon her, questioning. Olivia’s pulse was racing.
« What are you doing here? » she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.
Ethan spread his hands. « I… I needed to see you. I was trying to reach you. »
« You could have sent an email. »
« Yes. You didn’t answer. »
Because she had filed her messages in a folder she never opened. Because she had learned that contact reopened old wounds.
Ben spoke softly. « Do you want me to… »
« No, » Olivia replied, without taking her eyes off Ethan. « It’s fine. »
Ethan’s gaze flickered to Ben, assessing him as a rival, then returned to Olivia. « Can we talk? Alone? »
Olivia swallowed. The city air suddenly seemed thinner to her.
Ben clenched his jaw. « You can talk on the porch. »
Ethan’s smile faded, just a little bit, and Olivia understood that Ben wasn’t the type to mask his discomfort with a smile.
Ethan let out a forced laugh. « Of course. No problem. »
Olivia was sitting on the front steps, Ben was standing by the railing, arms crossed, a silent boundary.
Ethan leaned forward, his voice low as if intimacy could soften the past. « I made mistakes. »
Olivia stared at him. « That’s one way of putting it. »
He grimaces. « I’m not here to fight. I’m here because I… I’m sorry. I know I hurt you. »
“You didn’t ‘hurt’ me,” she said. “You destroyed my life as if it were a temporary installation.”
Ethan’s gaze dropped. « I panicked. »
Olivia let out a joyless laugh. « You had a second family, Ethan. This isn’t panic. This is a plan. »
Ben’s shoulders stiffened. Ethan’s face turned red.
« It wasn’t like that, » Ethan quickly retorted. « At first, it got out of control, and I didn’t know how to stop it. »
Olivia felt the heat rising in her eyes. Not tears, but rage. « Didn’t you know how to stop lying? »
Ethan then looked up at her, despairing. « I’m no longer with her. »
Those words hit Olivia like an unexpected slap. Ben’s gaze sharpened.
“What do you say?” » Olivia asked.
“I left,” Ethan said. “Everything fell apart. And… I realized I had made the worst mistake of my life.”
Olivia clasped her knees in her hands. « So you came here because you think I’m your plan B. »
« No, » said Ethan, too quickly. « No, it’s not… »
« That’s true, » Olivia interjected. « You’re alone, you’re bothered, and you remember that I used to make life easier for you. »
Ethan’s eyes shone. « I loved you. »
Olivia’s voice softened, but it wasn’t kindness. It was clarity. « You liked what I did for you. »
Ethan swallowed. « I have to tell you something. »
Olivia prepared for battle.
« The apartment, » he said. « The one we lived in. I… I didn’t lose it like I told you. I sold it. I needed the money when everything started to fall apart. »
Olivia stared at him. « You sold our house without telling me. »
« It was in my name, » said Ethan weakly, as if that made things easier.
Ben emitted a muffled sound, somewhere between disbelief and fury.
Olivia’s vision blurred. She had believed that the loss of her apartment was a consequence of the collapse of her life. She hadn’t realized it was all a setup.
« I came to tell you this because… » Ethan’s voice broke. « Because I want to make things right. I can give you money. I can… »
« Stop. » Olivia raised her hand. « Do you hear yourself? You’re still trying to settle this with transactions. You still don’t understand what you took. »
Ethan’s shoulders slumped. « Olivia, please. »
Ben then stepped forward, his voice neutral. « You must leave. »
Ethan looked at Ben, anger rising within him. « That’s between her and me. »
Ben didn’t blink. « Not anymore. »
Olivia stood up, her legs trembling. She stared at Ethan and felt something fall into place, something solid.
« You will not return here, » she said softly. « You will not use my hometown for your redemption tour. »
Ethan’s face fell. « I’m trying… »
« I know, » said Olivia. « And it’s no longer my responsibility. »
She turned and went in before the trembling of her hands became visible. Ben followed her, closing the door with a firmness that sounded like a bolt.
In the kitchen, Olivia was leaning against the counter, breathing with difficulty.
Ben waited, giving her space, until she spoke. « I’m sorry you had to hear that. »
« I’m glad I did it, » said Ben.
Olivia looked at him, surprised.
He shrugged. « Now I understand why you jump when someone says ‘forever’. »
The gentleness in his voice – without pity, without judgment – moved her more than Ethan ever could have.
That night, Olivia stayed awake in the annex, listening to the silence of the house. She tried to convince herself that she was okay. Ethan was gone. The past was over.
But the truth was, her body remembered the betrayal like skin remembers fire. Her rationality was irrelevant. A part of her was still waiting for the ground to disappear.
There was a soft knock at his door.
Olivia sat up, her heart pounding.
Ben’s voice reached us, soft. « Liv? Are you awake? »
She opened the door. Ben was standing there, in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair a mess, his eyes ringed with worry.
« I’m sorry, » he said. « I shouldn’t have… I just wanted to check. »
Olivia swallowed. « I’m awake. »
Ben hesitated. « Do you want company? Or would you prefer to be alone? »
The fact that he had offered both options, without meaning offense, tugged at her heartstrings.
« The company, » she admitted.
Ben nodded and came in, sitting on the edge of his chair at his desk as if he didn’t want to take up too much space. Olivia sat on the bed and pulled the duvet up over her lap.
They remained silent for a moment.
« I hate that he came here, » Ben finally said, his voice tight.
Olivia stared at his hands. « He thinks that if he apologizes, the universe will turn back time. »
Ben’s laugh was short and bitter. « My father used to do that too. He’d disappear, then send flowers as if that were the ultimate goal. »
Olivia looked up. « Did it ever work? »
« No, » said Ben. Then he added, in a softer voice, « But my mother always tried to make it work anyway. »
Olivia felt a lump in her throat. « I’m afraid I’ll become like that. »
Ben’s gaze met his. « You won’t do it. »
« You know nothing about it. »
“Yes,” Ben replied simply. “Because you’re already making the hardest choice. You’re choosing yourself.”
Olivia’s eyes burned. She blinked rapidly.
Ben shifted in his chair. « He sold the apartment, » he murmured, anger rising within him. « It’s not… it’s not a mistake. It’s a choice. »
Olivia nodded, her jaw clenched. « I keep realizing that my life wasn’t collapsing. It was… being reorganized without my consent. »
Ben leaned forward, elbows on his knees. « Then let’s rebuild it with your consent. »
His words were so direct that they took his breath away.
Olivia smiled slightly. « You talk like an architect even when you’re trying to comfort someone. »
Ben gave a slight smile. « It’s an occupational hazard. »
She watched it, and for the first time, she allowed herself to consider the nature of what was happening. Not a whirlwind. Not a rescue. Something slow and steady, like a house being built according to the rules of the art.
« Thank you, » she murmured.
Ben nodded once, then stood up. « I’m here, » he said. « Any time. »
As he turned to leave, Olivia spoke before she could even think.
« Well? »
He paused.
« I… I’m glad you didn’t leave him to talk to me alone. »
Ben’s gaze softened. « Me too. »
After he left, Olivia went back to bed. The room was still silent, but this silence no longer felt like abandonment. It was a feeling of space. Of safety.
October arrived, its leaves golden and its mornings fragrant with the scent of a wood fire. Ben’s library project entered its demolition phase, carried out with care and method. Olivia began spending more time on the construction site, not out of obligation, but out of a desire to be near what was dear to her.
One afternoon, Carla handed Olivia a pile of old papers that she had taken out of a locked cupboard.
« They were stuck at the bottom, » Carla said. « They look like old donation ledgers, maybe historical documents. I thought you might be interested. »
Olivia brought them to a dusty table and leafed through them. Letters, receipts, handwritten notes dating back decades. It was like reading the diary of the entire town.
Ben approached, wiping his forehead. « What’s wrong? »
« Ghosts, » said Olivia, tapping the papers. « The good ones. »
Ben smiled, then leaned so close that Olivia could smell the sawdust on his shirt. « I was thinking of putting on a small exhibit about the history of the library. Could you help me? You’re the perfect person for it. »
Olivia’s heart was pounding. « Yes, » she said a little too quickly. « I’d like that. »
They worked side by side: Ben made new frames and Olivia wrote the captions, striving to capture the essence of things in a few lines without giving the impression of a lecture. Sometimes, Ben would read what she had written and hum thoughtfully.
« You give the impression that things matter, » he said.
« They matter, » Olivia replied.
He looked at her warmly. « You see? That’s why I asked you. »
Work provided them with a pretext to grow closer without having to define what that closeness meant. They ate lunch together, sitting on the library steps, their sandwiches wrapped in paper. They talked about books, the absurdity of adult life, and the different bodily sensations at forty compared to twenty-five.
One afternoon, the rain suddenly began to fall, lashing the sidewalk. The workers ran for cover. Ben and Olivia found themselves under the library’s awning, side by side, watching the street adorn itself with raindrops.
« It’s like that day at the bookstore, » Ben said thoughtfully.
Olivia smiled. « Except now you’re covered in plaster dust. »
« And you don’t pretend you don’t need anyone, » Ben said softly.
Olivia’s smile faded. The rain formed a curtain between them and the world. Her heart was pounding.
Ben looked at her, then looked away, as if to give her the option of disagreeing. « Sorry, » he murmured. « It was… »
« It was true, » said Olivia, surprised herself.
Ben’s gaze rested on her again, slowly and cautiously.
Olivia gasped. She felt that something was about to change.
A car drove through a puddle, splashing water across the landscape and shattering the moment. Ben exhaled, almost amused by how easily the world disrupted this moment.
« Shall we have a coffee afterwards? » he asked in a deliberately casual tone.
Olivia nodded. « Yes. I want that. »
They went to the café on Main Street, the one with the mismatched chairs and the menu on a blackboard whose spelling constantly changed. They settled into the corner booth, steam rising from their cups.
Olivia watched Ben stir his coffee distractedly, the spoon clicking against the ceramic.
« Can I ask you a question? » she said.
Ben looked up. « Always. »
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