Elena
I really do have better things to do with myself on a Monday. The salon is closed, and it’s usually my day to catch up on bookwork, inventory, and any personal errands. That I am instead at Benjamin’s medical practice is most likely a total waste of my day.
I simply can’t help it, though. I’m really concerned about him—also very pissed—but I’m more worried than anything. Now that I know about his horrible history… his wife and daughter dead… I can’t help but be fretful for his welfare.
After talking to Walsh and Jorie, there was no stopping my need for more details. I had to Google the news story of Benjamin’s accident. It seems as if they were driving one evening when a drunk driver who had two prior DWIs crossed the centerline and hit them head-on. His wife, April, had been killed upon impact. Their five-year-old daughter Cassidy had a major brain injury—the irony of which cannot be lost on anyone given what Benjamin does for a living—and was taken off life support a mere twenty-four hours later.
The news articles did not give much detail about how serious Benjamin’s injuries were, but I suspect it was much worse than what happened to his leg.
I don’t know the exact why of it, but it’s obvious the accident and their deaths have everything to do with why he cut me off without a word. And because I know deep down in my gut—really, my heart—that we had a solid connection, I just can’t let this go. I must find out why he did this when he had, and I have to make sure he’s going to be okay. In the brief time we’ve known each other, I have come to care about him. It doesn’t matter that our relationship revolves only around sexual gratification, the level of intimacy we have shared and knowing what I now know about his history has unfortunately caused my heart to become involved.
There is no doubt what I’m doing would be considered stalkerish. I showed up at his place of work this morning, then walked confidently up to the reception desk. His offices are on the fourth floor of a large glass medical building right beside the hospital. The interior is posh with expensive furniture and high-end art. It’s no secret neurosurgeons are at the top of the pay scale when it comes to the medical profession. And yet, nothing about the fact he is wealthy appeals to me.
Unfortunately for my quest, the receptionist shut me down cold.
“Yes, I would like to see Dr. Hewitt,” I told her with confidence.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked with a friendly smile.
I shook my head. “No. But I’m a friend of his.”
The friendly smile slid off her face. There is no doubt their protocol required people to have an appointment to get precious minutes with the neurosurgeons here. “I’m sorry, but if you don’t have an appointment, you cannot see him.”
I’d expected as much. While she did promise to leave him a message, I seriously doubted it would make it into his hands. I also suspected he would ignore it, but it’s important I catch him face to face to get a serious answer to my questions.
I didn’t give up, though. I merely walked through the lobby and out the door, where I have been loitering in the hallway for going on almost two hours now. It is my hope I will catch Benjamin coming out on a break.
Leaning against the wall with one foot propped against it, I surf my phone and bide my time. Periodically, I push away from the wall and pace up and down the hallway. At one point, I risk a bathroom break, rushing back to my post so I don’t miss Benjamin.
My phone dings, and I look down to see a text from Jorie. What are you doing today?
For a moment, I consider being evasive with her. But since she and Walsh are extremely concerned about me and my relationship with Benjamin, I opt for the full truth. Stalking Benjamin at his office.
She texts back an emoji with wide, disbelieving eyes.
I type back to explain further. I just want to make sure he’s okay since he’s not returning my calls or texts.
With Jorie, I know I can always count on her for the hard truth. For honest advice. She’s the one to tell me when I’m being stupid or ridiculous. I sort of expect that from her, so I’m surprised when she merely replies, Good luck. Call me after you talk to him.
That makes me feel immensely better about my decision to come here. I have been second-guessing myself somewhat that maybe some people are just better off left alone. Unfortunately, I am a naturally empathetic person and my sleepless nights will continue until I can assure myself Benjamin will be okay.
“Elena?” It’s a man’s voice—clearly not Benjamin’s—and I snap my head to the left to see his partner, Brandon Aimes, walking toward me. He’s wearing a set of blue scrubs, carrying a few Manila medical files under his arm. I’m surprised he remembers my name. “What are you doing here?”
His tone is friendly enough, but his expression is wary. I wonder if Benjamin has said anything about standing me up last week.
Lifting my chin, I tell it straight. “Benjamin and I had a date on Friday, and he stood me up. He’s not been returning my calls or texts, and I am very worried about him. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
“He’s actually not here,” Brandon replies as he comes to a stop before me.
I cock an eyebrow. “The receptionist made it seem like he was. She asked me if I had an appointment.”
“That’s what they’re trained to say. They’re also trained to never divulge where the doctors are. She would’ve tried to get you in to see another one of our doctors.”
I suppose that makes sense.
Brandon looks up and down the hall before turning back to me. He seems troubled about whether to say anything, but he eventually sighs and admits, “Look… he left work on Friday around lunchtime, skipping out on a surgery he had scheduled. I was able to cover it for him, but it was completely unlike him to do something like that. Today, he called out again, but he assured me he would be back tomorrow.”
I don’t know what to make of that. It hits me with a harsh clarity I simply don’t know Benjamin well enough to know whether his behavior is unusual or worrisome.
“Well,” I drawl hesitantly. “I really just wanted to make sure he was okay. Since you’ve heard from him, I guess I’ve been assured of that. Thanks.”
I am feeling extremely dissatisfied with what I’ve learned, but I don’t feel like I have any choice but to walk away. My goal was to make sure Benjamin was physically okay. Brandon has heard from him, and it appears Benjamin is. I give him a smile and pivot on my foot, heading toward the bank of elevators.
I don’t make it three steps before he calls after me, “Elena… wait a minute.”
I spin to face him.
“I’m not sure he’s okay,” Brandon admits, and I take a few steps toward him. “He’s probably going to kill me for this, and I have no clue of knowing if you’re legit or a crazy stalker woman, but I’ll take my chances.”
Brandon pulls a prescription pad out of his front pocket along with a pen. He’s scribbles something down, tears it off, and hands it to me.
After I take it, I look down. Benjamin’s address.
I blink in surprise, feeling immediate relief I can go see him.
“I am not a crazy stalker,” I assure him. “I promise. I just… I think we had a connection and he got scared or something. I just need to make sure he’s okay. See if there’s anything there.”
Brandon appraises me a moment before nodding. “I saw it.”
“What’s that?”
“The connection. Brief as it was, he let me see it the night he introduced you to us at the gala, I could tell there was something there. It made me happy.”
I drop my gaze to the floor, and shuffle from foot to foot before looking back up to Benjamin’s medical partner. “I just found out what happened. The accident. And how his wife and daughter died. I didn’t know it at the gala. Well… I can’t help but think it has everything to do with why he stood me up on Friday. I just can’t figure out why now.”
“He’s prickly about it,” Brandon says neutrally.
“Prickly?”
Brandon gives a short chuckle. “Okay, he’s an asshole actually. After the accident, he became a different man. He cut everyone out of his life who ever meant something to him. Me, his parents, his brother. He rarely talks to us. All he does is work and sleep. That’s about all there is to his life. That’s why I was glad to see him bring you to the gala. It gave me hope.”
I’m shaken to the core by this information. It means Benjamin is pretty far gone from being a normal human being. It makes me doubt the connection I thought I felt. “We just fuck.”
Brandon’s face turns red at my coarse words, his eyebrows shooting up. “Pardon?”
“I met him at The Wicked Horse. It’s just sex. There’s nothing more than that to what we have.”
Brandon frowns. “The Wicked Horse? What’s that?”
I tell him exactly what it is. A sex club where people can indulge in their darkest desires. Brandon’s face turns even redder. Now, doubt is written all over his face about me. I can see he’s regretting handing Benjamin’s address over.
I feel the need to explain. “I think he went there to feel something. And the connection you saw between us… I feel like I need to be truthful about it just being sexual in nature. But… it was a connection. I’ve never felt it before. You said you saw it, and I know it was real. We had something, but I don’t know what it was.”
The internal conflict within Brandon is apparent on his expression. It’s clear he must’ve believed we had some sort of emotional bond, and I’ve just disabused him by clarifying it was sexual only. I think it might put me back in the category of a potential crazy stalker.
Which is why his next words surprise me greatly. “He wasn’t always a dick. Before the accident, he was a good man. Happy, funny, caring, inclusive. He loved his patients. Had an incredibly close relationship with his parents and his brother. He was my best friend. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t tell me. I would love to see him get back there. And whether all you had between you was sex, maybe you are the person to get him there.”
Shaking my head, I take a step backward. “Oh, I don’t think so. It’s not about that. I just wanted to make sure he’s okay.”
“Go see him,” he instructs. “Make sure he’s okay. And if something comes of it… great. If not, well, at least you’ll know.”
It hurts my heart to hear her how morose Brandon’s tone is, which tells me he really doesn’t garner much hope that I’m truly the one to bring Benjamin back. He’s grasping at straws.
But I give Brandon a nod before tucking the address in my back pocket. It’s the least I can do.