The Reality of Misunderstandings and Confessions

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Tomorrow had come. The hour hand struck twelve and Benji stood on the door steps of Kris Madison’s house. He knocked on the glass door and then stepped back as not to appear too eager. With his head bowed and his heart beating inside his chest, he heard her footsteps approaching. As she advanced, he felt his breath shorten and every muscle in his body quaked. It felt like another attack. His throat tightened and his lungs squeezed so hard he gasped in pain. He stuck an arm out against the side of house and supported himself until he found enough strength to appear relaxed when she came to the door.

“Hello, Benji!” she sang, opening the front door.

Benji straightened his back and stared at her. The anxiety flew away. His breath returned and his nerves loosened enough for him to hand her the present he gripped in his hands.

“You didn’t have to,” Kris said, flushing as she took hold of the gift. At first, she had to give it several tugs before Benji’s fingers softened enough for the box to slip into hers. Cradling it against her chest, she said, “Come on in, thank you so much for coming.”

Stroking the front of his shirt, he walked inside, pausing after every three steps. “Nice place you’ve got.”

“Thank you, I got it two years ago. It’s so nice to have a home to myself.” She shut the door and walked past him to the kitchen. “You can have a seat if you’d like? Would you like anything to drink?”

“Just water,” Benji replied from the dining room. His eyes caught sight of a table set for two. A candle was in the middle of counter and a wrapped box was placed ever so perfectly at one end of the table. Smiling softly, for he knew who the receiver was, Benji trailed his fingers lightly over the burgundy coloured tablecloth. He closed eyes for a moment, almost as if blocking a certain memory.

“Would you like ice?” Kris asked from the doorway before she sensed his distraction. “Benji?”

“She left me,” he replied in a voice weighted with anger and confusion. His shoulders trembled and Kris could see him trying to hide his emotions.

“It’s all right,” Kris comforted as she carefully placed the water glasses on the desk beside her. In soft footsteps, she came up behind Benji and laid a hand on his shoulder. The trembling ceased. “It wasn’t your fault, I’m sure.”

Tilting his ear towards her so that he could not miss a word, he spoke quietly, “The funny thing is that I hate her.”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” Kris assured. She pressed her cheek against the tense muscle in his back and her hand stroked the side of his arm in assurance. “We all go through this. I’m sorry that yours was so painful.”

Sniffling, Benji at last explained what had been buried deep inside him for over a year, and years prior. “I know it’s not my fault, but it feels like it, you know. I gave her everything, everything, and she turned around and cheated on me, and I don’t understand why.” Benji allowed the tears to show, for he knew he wasn’t strong enough to hold them back anymore. “Apparently I was just killing time while she waiting for her other boyfriend to sort things out. And wh-when he wanted her back, she let me go. Everything she told me was a lie. I thought that I finally meant something to someone. But I was so stupid.”

Trying to understand what he was saying, Kris asked in a low, but calming voice, “Was she your first?”

Benji nodded his head.

Feeling his pain, too, Kris wrapped her arms around him and kissed his shoulder. “It wasn’t your fault, okay? Don’t feel like you have to hold onto her until you don’t feel guilty anymore? You know? You don’t have anything to be guilty of. Love is real, and I know you felt it towards her and she abused it.”

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