Chapter 8: Boston

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~Ben~

I tried to hide my anger when I saw Ophelia's face when she saw Matthew. I was loading my bag in the van and I heard a child laugh. I turned to see what was causing this enormous amount of joy but regretted doing so when I came face to face with Matthew. Ophelia was extending her arms in his direction, wanting to be held by him. I ignored the pinch in my chest when she cuddled her head against his chest. I also ignored him completely for the last two days. We travel in separate vans which made it easy to not speak to him at all.

I have been doing my best to look away when he is around, not wanting to dwell on how it should be me. It should be me Ophelia goes to for comfort when Eleanor is not around. It should be me people ask questions about her. But when they see Matthew playing with her or Eleanor handing her to him, they automatically assume she's his. And the fact that Eleanor avoids me like the plague isn't helping.

To avoid any akward run-ins, Eleanor specifically asks four our hotel rooms to be on different floors. We just checked-in our second hotel and I haven't said one word to her since we left New Jersey early this morning. The only times she talks to me is to communicate information about Ophelia, but, most of the time, everything I need to know is written on a piece of paper she stores in the diaper bag. Diaper bag that is hanging on Hannah's shoulder since Eleanor doesn't drop Ophelia off herself. I know I'm the one who agreed to find ways so we wouldn't see each other every day, but, now, the only times I see her is when we leave the hotel to get back in the vans. I am not allowed to attend the book signings since some people could recognize me which wouldn't be good because it would take the attention away from Eleanor and Matthew. I completely understand why people focusing on them is important, I just don't like being banned from places. I don't like the heard beating in my chest every time I walk into a room, beating that doesn't stop until I'm sure Eleanor and Matthew are elsewhere.

Hannah is supposed to drop Ophelia off in about twenty minutes, right before she has to join Eleanor at the library for the signing. Every time she knocks on my door, I dread seeing the seductive smile on her face and the way she winks when she sees me. It's always the same routine. She knocks, barely loud enough for me to hear, I open the door, she winks as she pushes the stroller inside the room, tells me what Eleanor wanted her to, asks what I plan to do, winks again as I answer vaguely, and wiggles her fingers in that weird way as she heads for the door. It only lasts two minutes, four when you add the pick-up, but it's the worst four minutes of my day.

I turn off my laptop when I hear the soft knocking sound. I mentally prepare myself for the worst as I put on my best fake smile.

"Hey Ben," she joyfully says, adding her usual wink. Will I ever have enough courage to tell her it's not a good way to approach someone who interests you? I guess not since I fear that she repeats everything I say to Eleanor and that her flirting with me is just some sort of weird test.

"Hey," I answer, my eyes on my daughter. As always, Eleanor strapped her in her stroller just in case I want to go out. I want to pull her out to give her a hug, but I found out there's a park about five minutes away and I intend on taking Ophelia there, so I opt out of taking her out only to put her back in a few minutes later.

"What are we doing today?" Did she say we? We as in us or we as in Ophelia and me? Some people say we even when they're not included in something. My history teacher in high school spoke that way. He was always saying things like "What did we do in 1939?" or "What should we have done instead of joining a war that wasn't ours?" It was annoying as hell, but it was a known fact. He always talked like that. On the contrary, it's the first time that Hannah uses the we when asking my plans for the day.

"We?" I repeat as I move to take the diaper bag she usually is so quick to hand me.

"Yes, we. I am spending the day with you two," she answers, her hand tightening on the bag's strap. "I don't have to go to the signing," she adds, probably because of my confused face.

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