Hillary
It’s Ben. Just Ben.
I cross the bed and throw myself into his arms, hugging him and crying.
“It’s okay, my love. You’re fine. I’ve got you,” he says, his voice calm and soothing, wrapping around me like warmth.
He lets me cry against his shoulder without asking a single question. Then, slowly, he guides us back to bed, pulling me close to his chest and drawing the blanket over us.
My heartbeat steadies as I listen to his and bask in his warmth. I slowly start to drift off again—in Bentley’s arms, far away from that daunting nightmare.
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I have so much work to do, papers scattered everywhere in front of me. Ben’s been just as busy—maybe even worse. He’s been working so much, so late, that he didn’t even come home last night.
Now I’m trying to help him as much as I
