What She Left Behind ✔️

chapter twenty

I knock on Benson's door. He owns a condo in one of the more expensive parts of the city. I've never actually been to his place before—he's only lived here for six months—but he's invited me over on more than one occasion. I'm sure he won't be opposed to me stopping by.

The door opens, but it isn't Benson on the other side. It's Alyx. Her red hair is tossed up in a messy bun, her face is bare of makeup, and her pants have an elastic waist. She doesn't look like the Alyx I'm used to.

In fact, she looks more like Raelyn than ever.

"Gemma, hi." She pulls on the sleeves of her sweatshirt. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I came to see my brother," I reply. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." She smiles, but it isn't genuine. Then again, she's seldom ever genuine. She's just usually better at faking her feelings. "I, um, just wasn't expecting company. Do come in, though."

She steps aside, allowing me entrance into the condo. I walk down the hall. Pictures cover the walls—Benson with Alyx, Benson with Mom and Dad, Benson with me and Bowie —and the hardwood floor glistens beneath my feet. The place smells of bleach and citrus. In the kitchen, which is spotless, I notice a mop bucket on the floor.

"I figured I'd tidy up a bit while Benny was out," Alyx explains. "I'm not working right now, so I'm trying to make myself useful."

"Are you living here?" I inquire. Benson never mentioned anything about them moving in together.

"No, not officially, but I sleep here most nights," she answers. "I'm technically still living with my parents, but things are... tense at home. It's easier if I just stay here."

I don't pry, despite how much my inner reporter is begging me to. The struggles between her and her parents are none of my business.

"Anyway," she continues, "Benny should be home soon if you wanna wait. I'd offer you a drink, but all we have is water and beer."

"Water's fine." I take a seat at the table. There are only two chairs, so I assume Benson doesn't entertain often. "Does he usually work on Sundays?"

"He's not at work. He's running an errand," she clarifies.

"Oh, okay."

"But like I said, he'll be back soon."

"I can wait."

She hands me a bottle of water from the fridge. It's Fiji water. Of course it's freaking Fiji water. Why would Benson settle for anything less?

I thank her and sip the liquid slowly. Maybe Alyx's unease is contagious, because I'm suddenly feeling nervous, too. This house is too clean, too polished, too perfect. It doesn't seem real. I feel like I'm touring a home in hopes to buy it, not walking into one that somebody already lives in.

"So, um, what did you want to talk to Benson about?" Alyx asks, breaking the awkward silence.

"I...." I stop, because I can't tell her about the flash drive. I can't make the same mistake twice. Instead, I say, "I remembered his birthday is coming up. I wanted to get some ideas on what I should get for him."

She squints. "You came all this way for birthday present suggestions?"

"It wasn't that far."

"Don't you live on the other side of the city?"

"Yeah, but I was at my parent's before I came here. That's kind of the halfway point."

"Right." She folds her arms over her chest and gazes at the door, as if willing Benson to open it and relieve the uncomfortable tension that's lingering between us. "Um, well, I could help you if you want."

"Yeah, that would be great!" I exclaim with too much enthusiasm. "I mean, you spend the most time with him, after all."

"I suppose I do." Her smile is cautious, uncertain. "Lately, he's been really into—"

"Actually, before we start, can I use your bathroom?" I don't have to pee, but I'm hoping this will give me a chance to see more of the house.

"Sure. The toilet down here is messed up, so you'll have to use the one upstairs," she tells me. "It's in the master bedroom. Second door on the left."

Jackpot.

I rush upstairs and enter Benson's room. Like the rest of the condo, it's impeccably clean. Their king-sized bed is adorned in a silky gray comforter and half a dozen matching pillows—the decorative kind, not the kind used for sleeping. The carpet looks freshly vacuumed. The mahogany dresser across from the bed doesn't have a speck of dust on it. The room smells of citrus and lavender, which would normally be comforting, but accompanied with the too-tidy room, it makes me uneasy. This is their bedroom. There is no reason for it to be this immaculate.

Carefully, quietly, I open the drawers of the dresser. The top one has socks and underwear—all neatly folded—and the second one has t-shirts and sweatpants. The bottom drawer has jeans, a few of Alyx's belongings—a lacy bra, a pair of leggings, a couple tank tops—and a shoebox.

Why the hell is he hiding a shoebox in his dresser?

I lift the top, expecting to see a stack of hundred dollar bills or, worse, my flashdrive, but it's filled with condoms. At least they're using protection.

I cringe and close the drawer.

I hear footsteps in the hallway. I dart into the bathroom, nearly tripping over my own feet. I turn on the faucet and clutch the sides of the sink. My heart is racing. I don't know what I'm doing or why I'm here. Since when do I not trust my siblings? Has Raelyn's suicide really made me this berserk?

I splash some cold water on my face and return downstairs. As Alyx promised, Benson is home. In his hand is a CVS bag.

"Gemma! Hey!" He seems surprised to see me. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to visit my big brother, of course." I force a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm good. We're good." He wraps his arm around Alyx's shoulder, dropping the plastic shopping bag in the process. The contents spill out onto the spotless kitchen floor. He quickly drops to his hands and knees to pick up his mess, but not before I see a bottle of prenatal vitamins.

"Oh, I... um...." I stutter awkwardly, halting myself from pulling a Gemma and blurting out something inappropriate.

"Gemma...." Benson hides the vitamins behind his back like they're a secret I'm not supposed to uncover. "I—"

"We wanted to tell you," Alyx tosses out. "It's just that we haven't been together for long, and we weren't sure how people would react, and—"

"It's okay," I assure her. "You don't owe me an explanation."

Except I want one. I want all of the details. How long have they known? How far along is she? Are they going to get married? When are they planning to tell Mom and Dad? Why do they have a shoebox loaded with condoms if they haven't been using them?

My big brother is going to be a dad. I'm going to be an aunt. This is surreal.

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order," I go on. "You two must be really happy."

Benson grins ear to ear. "Ecstatic, actually."

I watch Alyx's face. For half a second, her smile fades. I'm no expert at reading people—Raelyn is a prime example of that—but she doesn't look excited. She doesn't even look scared.

She just seems unhappy.

"I should probably go," I announce. "I'll see you two later."

"Wait!" Alyx exclaims. "Didn't you want to—?"

"Another time," I interject.

"Oh." She frowns. "Okay."

I let myself out. I can't shake the feeling that something isn't right. Benson and Alyx have been together for three months, and she's having his baby. If I were him, I'd be petrified. I'd be a mess. He seemed over the moon, yet she resembled someone waiting in line at the DMV, like the last thing on earth she wanted to do was go through with this pregnancy.

Should I be worried about Alyx Houston?