My Guardian Angel

Chapter 26

Ben unlocked the doors to the lecture hall and walked gracefully down the stairs and to his office. "Ah, peace and quiet," he sighed in relief. "Here." He picked up half of his pile and set it on her desk.

He watched as she immediately got work on them. They were quietly working side by side for over an hour. Not a single word or glance was exchange between the two of them. When he saw her stretching and yawning from the corner of his eye, he took that as his cue to let them have a break.

"I think we deserve a break," he told her as he stood and stretched his back. "Drink?" He pulled out a bottle of scotch and it made her eyes go wide. He laughed at the sight. "It's fine, I don't get piss drunk in here. I save it for when it's needed."

He pulled out a couple of foam coffee cups and poured a tiny bit of the alcohol into them. He handed one to her as he pulled his chair up next to her desk. She took a sip and was instantly flooded with memories of this taste. This is the same scotch he gave to her in Mexico.

Ben noticed the daze in her eyes and asked, "You alright? Not much for scotch?"

She shook her head to shake away the memories. "Uh...nothing, yeah. I'm fine." She took another sip and he watched the same look go over her eyes. He took a sip of his own, but didn't think it tasted any different than the million other times he's had it.

"How much do you remember?" She suddenly asked.

He didn't have to ask her to elaborate what she meant. He often wondered how much she remembers of their time together.

"Nearly every detail," he told her. "As hard as I try to forget, I can't." He stared into his cup, then drank the rest and crumpled it up. "I gave you this scotch the night we first slept together, didn't I?"

She nodded slowly as he sighed at himself. "Cassie, I am sorry. I feel like you think I'm making it my mission to make you feel terrible. I'm not, I swear it."

She kept nodding, but a smile turned up on her face as she did. "I know. Part of me wishes you were because then I would have an excuse to..." She stopped herself before saying something she'd regret.

But his interest was now peaked. He leaned forward a bit. "An excuse to...what, Cassie? To push me away? To hate me?" She looked up at him with shame in her eyes, but he quickly assured her with a soft smile.

"I know how you feel," he admitted. "I thought finding out you lied about your occupation would be enough, but it really wasn't. After finding out everything else you said was true, I...fuck, I didn't have that anymore, did I?"

He got up and grabbed the bottle while she mulled over what he said. "What do you mean by that?" She asked. He came back and sat down with the bottle in his hand. He seemed confused. "You said you found out everything else I said was true. What did you mean by that? Or, at least, how did you found out?"

He was in the middle of pouring the drink into her cup, but he halted his movements. He closed his eyes and scolded himself for not watching his mouth. He opened them back up and finished pouring. He gave himself a very generous amount.

"Um...well, what I mean by that is...I..." He stopped and gave himself a mental reboot. "I was there this night you were attacked."

She seemed even more confused now. "Yes. I am aware."

Shaking his head, he told her, "No, sorry, I...what I mean to say is, I was there. I was the one who helped Katie take you home." She furrowed her eyebrows. "I drove you both to your's and carried you to bed. Katie was calling your other friend so I stayed with you for a few minutes. I couldn't help but look at your pictures and accomplishments. It's everything you had told me."

She raised her eyebrow as she said, "Yeah, well, I told you. I'm glad it took stalking me to reassure you." He snapped his head to her to defend herself, but found her smiling. He let a laugh escape his lips. "But now that you've admitted to being in my room and looking around my things..." she sat a little forward "...why did you leave like that?"

He poured himself the generous amount for the impending backlash of his actions a few months ago, not six months ago. He did feel stupid for thinking she wouldn't bring it up. He took a big swig from his cup.

"When I said I wasn't good at goodbyes...I meant it. It's not an excuse, I know. Nothing will ever excuse what I did to you. I regret it every bleeding moment I am alive and breathing."

She could tell that's all he was going to give her, so she knocked back the rest of her drink and said, "Well, I'm going to go home." She threw the cup away, then gathered her things. "I'll help you with the rest of these tomorrow. Goodnight."

Before she could reach the door, he was gathering his own things. "What are you doing?" She asked.

He put on his jacket and picked up his briefcase. "I am escorting you home," he said as if it were obvious. "It's getting dark out."

"I enjoy the walk," she protested.

He kept his jacket on, but put his briefcase down. "Fine," he said, "I could use a walk."