Dirty Little Lies (Dirty Little #2) (20 page)

It feels like home the moment we step inside. It’s modern, but not sterile, with room enough for the two of us to have our own spaces if we need them. There’s also “room to expand,” as the real estate agent so helpfully informed us. Repeatedly. That room to expand comes in the form of two extra bedrooms on the main floor that Ben and I have pointedly avoided talking about, other than deciding that we’d furnish them both as guest rooms.
 

Furnishing the new place was the first test of our relationship. Finding pieces that we both like—Ben with his modern taste, and me loving more classic things—was a challenge, but we made it through.
 

The final step is actually moving, which so far has been a nightmare. I hate it even under the best circumstances, but today we’ve been dealing with lost boxes, and delayed trucks. The moving company finally got it together, and we’re almost, finally done.
 

The place is littered with boxes, and the movers still have a few more to bring up from the truck. I’ve been holed up in my office all morning, figuring it was best to get started on something, and being in the loft would keep me far enough from the action on the main level that I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way.
 

My back is starting to cramp from the workout I’ve been putting it through today, so I stand up and stretch. The loft looks out onto the living room below, with floor-to-ceiling windows that usually have a lovely view of downtown.
 

It’s overcast today, and with the lights on inside, the windows are covered with reflections. I’m surprised when I look down and see Ben sitting with Caleb at the dining room table. I had no idea he was coming over, and want to go down and say hello.
 

It seems like forever since I’ve seen him, and I wonder if Mia is here, too. I haven’t seen her since the last time we met for coffee, which was just before Ben and I went to closing on this place.
 

I pad down the stairs, across the foyer, and into the dining room. Ben and Caleb are so engrossed in conversation that they don’t even notice that I’ve entered the room. When I get close enough to the table, I can see over Ben’s shoulder, and notice that he’s holding a ring.

A diamond ring.

A diamond
engagement
ring.
 

It’s both ginormous and classic. Totally huge, but not gaudy.
 

“That’s gorgeous,” I say, without even thinking. I didn’t mean to intrude on their conversation, and I definitely didn’t mean to comment on the ring
out loud
, but it’s not like I can take the words back now.
 

Caleb startles at the sound of my voice so badly that the chair actually moves.
 

“Marisa,” he says, sounding relieved. Like maybe he was expecting someone else.
 

I walk around the side of the table, and take a seat next to Ben.
 

“Am I interrupting something?” I ask stupidly. Of course I am; anyone with a working set of eyes can see that.
 

Ben’s looking over at me, and I’m looking at Caleb, who’s the one holding the ring now. He has it gently clasped between his index finger and thumb.
 

When I catch sight of the way that Ben is looking at me, there’s a momentary flutter in my stomach. Just a flash of a thought that maybe I’m living in a world where that ring is meant for me. But the way Caleb is holding it—like it’s the most precious thing in the world—makes me realize that the ring is for Mia.
 

“May I see it?” I ask.

Caleb gives me this dopey smile as he hands the ring over, delicately placing it in the palm of my hand.

It’s platinum, with an emerald-cut diamond, and tiny diamonds set all around the band. Simple, but elegant. Just like Mia.
 

“It’s perfect,” I tell Caleb, as he lets out a long sigh of relief. “She’s going to love it, and she’s going to say yes.”
 

“You think?” He looks like he’s about to jump out of his skin, like he just wants to chuck whatever plans he’s made to go home and ask her already.
 

“I don’t think,” I reply with a smile. “I know. She’s going to say yes.”
 

“I hope so.”

I look over at Ben, who is watching me with an intensity that I can’t quite get a read on.
 

“It belonged to my mother,” Caleb says, as I hand the ring back to him.
 

I know a little bit about Caleb’s tragic backstory, and how his parents died. He holds everything he has left of them close, so giving this to Mia is everything. Just because of that, I know how sure he must be that what he has with Mia is forever.
 

“Your father had amazing taste,” I tell him. “You aren’t just carrying this around with you, waiting for the right time, are you?”
 

“No,” Caleb replies, shaking his head. “Of course not. I just got it sized, and…”

“Wanted some moral support?” I ask.

Caleb smiles. “Yeah, something like that.”

“When are you going to ask her?”
 

“Tonight,” he tells me.

There’s a nosy part of me that wants to ask him what he has planned, but that’s an incredibly private thing, and I don’t want him to read too much into my reaction to whatever it is he’d be willing to tell me.
 

I’m surprised that Ben’s still sitting there quietly. I don’t think he’s said a single thing since I sat down. I figure that must mean that I walked in on a private conversation, so I decide to give the two of them their space.
 

“Well,” I sigh, as I stand up. “I just thought I’d come down and say hello. I’m going to go back upstairs and finish unpacking.”
 

As I walk around the side of the table, I slide my hand along Ben’s broad shoulders. Before I let go, he reaches up and clasps my fingers, giving them a little squeeze.
 

“I’ll come up and help once we’re done here,” Ben says.
 

I pat Caleb on the back. “You’ll give us a call or send us a text when she says yes, right?”
 

Caleb beams at me like he’s the happiest man in the world, and he hasn’t even gotten an answer to his question yet.
 

“Yes,” he replies. “Of course.”
 

“Okay. I guess we’ll hear from you later.” I give him a playful wink, and then head back upstairs.
 

* * *

I’m shelving the very last of my books on my impeccably organized bookshelf when I hear Ben clearing his throat.
 

I look back, and he’s leaning against the doorframe like some kind of GQ model, looking completely unfair. We’ve been hauling boxes all day, but somehow he still manages to look like he stepped out of the pages of a magazine with his low-slung jeans and incredibly nice t-shirt that stretches perfectly over his broad chest.
 

Seeing him like this—relaxed in a place that we own together—gives me the warmest, indescribable feeling in my chest.
 

“Need any help?” he asks.
 

I shake my head. He’s giving me all the help I need just standing across the room looking like he does.
 

“I’m almost done here. Is Caleb gone?”
 

Ben smiles. “Yeah, he’s gone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move that fast.”
 

I laugh lightly. “It’s pretty cute that he wanted to stop by and talk to you before he went and popped the question.”
 

“I won’t tell him you said that.”
 

“What?” I ask. “Is there something wrong with being cute. I think
you’re
cute. I mean, along with other stuff. But cute is definitely one of them.”
 

If I didn’t know better, I’d think Ben was blushing as he smiles down at the floor.
 

“Sorry you walked in on that. He stopped by at the last minute, after he picked up the ring from being resized. I didn’t have time to tell you, and I wasn’t sure when you walked up if you thought…”
 

He trails off nervously, and I want to ease his mind about what my expectations are now.
 

“If I thought you’d be careless enough to sit at our dining room table holding an engagement ring that you meant to give to me?”
 

That gets a smile out of him. “Yeah, something like that.”
 

“I didn’t think that,” I lie. Then I think better of it, because the two of us make it a point to always be honest with each other. “Well, I thought that for a split second. A fraction, just…the tiniest part of a second, however big that is.”
 

That confession is enough to make him push off of the doorframe and stand up straight.
 

“You did?”
 

“Well, sure,” I say with a shrug. “Any girl who walks into a room and sees her boyfriend holding a ring like that…her mind is going to go places.”
 

“Good places?” His eyebrows are raised, and his hands are shoved in his pockets. He looks so earnest and young that it makes my chest ache.
 

“Pleasant places,” I admit. “Very nice places.”
 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“I’m not. I wasn’t expecting you to propose to me, Ben,” I explain, quickly letting him off the hook for whatever scenario he’s convinced himself that I’ve worked up in my mind.

He crosses the room in three long strides, and wraps is arms around me.
 

“But if I want to propose to you?”
 

I smile against his chest, resting my hand right over his erratically beating heart.

“If you want to, then when the time is right you will. Although I’m going to do my best to test your resolve by making you come with me when I go shopping for all new gadgets for our kitchen. If I don’t bore you to death first, then you can decide if you want to marry me.”
 

The air between us is charged for a moment, full of the wonderful possibilities that the future might hold for us.
 

“I don’t know,” he says, before pressing a kiss against my head. “Nothing is usually boring when I’m with you.”
 

I smile, then tilt my head up and give him a kiss.

* * *

With my office all set up and settled, I decide to tackle the living room next. I pick a box completely by random, which turns out to be a bunch of old pictures that I’ve had packed away since before I moved into my old place.
 

It’s nice to go through some of the memories. There are pictures of Ben and me from when we were in college, ones that I figure are safe to bring out now that we’ve started a completely new life together. There are photos of me with other friends I made throughout college, and some with people I met after.
 

About halfway through my walk down memory lane, I come across a picture that I had completely forgot existed.
 

It’s in an ornate gold frame, the kinds that my mother loved to decorate the house with, but were too gaudy for my simple tastes. Inside is a photo that was taken when Corinne and I were still kids. Corinne is in a short sailor dress, smiling with a huge gap where her two front teeth were missing at the time.
 

My mom’s hands are on Corinne’s shoulders, and I’m hanging off of my dad’s back, my arms draped over his shoulders as he holds me up by my hands. I’m resting my head in the crook of his neck, and we’re smiling just like any other family.
 

I wonder how many crimes Mom and Dad had committed at that point.
 

I stare at the picture for a long time. It’s difficult for me to take my eyes off of it. It’s a good memory tainted by the terrible things Mom and Dad have done since, and it feels like a lifetime ago.
 

Sometimes it’s difficult to reconcile how quickly things can change. You can go from friends to enemies in a second, lovers to exes in no time at all. One day you can be a family, and the next day you’re not.
 

“Hey,” Ben says, pulling me out of my thoughts as he sits down next to me.
 

He smells clean, like he just got out of the shower, and he’s wearing these sweatpants that somehow manage to not leave much to the imagination.
 

I turn the frame over, even though I know that Ben has seen what I was looking at. I only ever talk about my parents with Corinne; it’s a subject that Ben and I seem to avoid at all costs. I’m sure he doesn’t want to do anything to set me off, and I don’t ever want to talk about them anyway.
 

They’re still awaiting trial as far as I know, and that’s about the extent of my knowledge of them. My lawyer updates me every once and a while, when we go in for a meeting about the legalities of my company. Other than that, I studiously avoid reading anything about them at all. They call occasionally, but I’ve since blocked their number. They’re not really in the news anymore, but that will probably change when they go to trial.