problems // ben tyler cook

Chapter Seventeen

I wake up the next morning, curled up against Ben's chest. He's breathing softly, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Thankfully, Josh agreed to stay with Chaz and Sky so the two of us can be alone.

I really need to thank Josh.

I let out a content sigh, smiling and closing my eyes. I cuddle up closer to my boyfriend, feeling the warmth radiate off his body.

Ben starts to stir a bit, and I know he's beginning to wake up. I start to pepper his face with kisses, which just makes him smile softly.

"Good morning." I whisper, rolling over so I'm on top of him.

"Good morning, Gorgeous." Ben smiles tiredly, his arms lazily wrapping around my waist and his hands resting just above my bum. "Sleep well?"

"Mhm." I hum, nodding.

"I don't wanna get up." He pouts. "I just wanna lay in bed all day with you."

"Me too. But you've got a show to do. And I'm coming to see it tonight so y'all better do great."

Ben raises his eyebrows at me and smirks. "Y'all?"

"I'm from Texas." Is my simple response, which makes him laugh.

"I'll make sure to do amazing just for you, baby." Ben whispers, pressing a kiss to my neck.

We lay in bed just a few more minutes before deciding to go out and get breakfast.

I swipe one of Ben's maroon button-ups from his suitcase and throw it on, tucking it into my jeans and leaving one or two buttons undone.

Ben returns from his shower with wet hair and a button up, smiling at me. "What, are your clothes not good enough for you?"

I blush, shrugging. "Just wanted to wear your shirt. I can change if you want me to."

"No, I like it. It looks good on you." Ben responds, kissing my cheek. "You ready to go?"

"Yep." I grab my bag from the bed and grab his hand, heading out of the hotel room. "Are we gonna see the rest of the cast?"

"Later on, babe. I want some time with you to myself." Ben smirks, pulling me towards the elevator. "Diner good?"

"Baby, I haven't had food like this in two months. I don't care where we eat." I tease, even though the comment is a bit harsh.

Ben laughs. "That's true. Come on, there's a good diner down the block."

Ben and I walk hand in hand, in silence to the diner. We're seated immediately by a nice elderly woman who smiles lovingly at us.

"I used to come here all the time with my grandparents." Ben murmurs as he slides in next to me. "Obviously, I haven't been here so much since I moved. But everyone here still seems to remember me, which is really nice."

"Yeah, that is nice." I smile, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"So, do you wanna, um, tell me about it?" He wonders. "Rehab?"

"Oh, well what do you wanna know?" I ask, sitting up and turning to face him.

"I guess just, what was it like?"

I think for a moment before responding. "The first two weeks were awful."

Ben furrows his eyebrows. "Why is that?"

"Once you start there, they change you immediately. They practically had to force me to eat three meals a day with a certain amount of calories. Well, my body isn't used to that. So I'd eat and then I'd throw it up a few hours later, just to be forced to eat again. But then after the two weeks, I wouldn't get sick anymore."

Ben already looks shocked and confused. "Wow."

"They started me on therapy right away. Then after I stopped getting sick, I also did group therapy. That's how my days went. I'd wake up, eat, do a while of therapy, and then I'd go to this lesson, almost, of how I can work out properly to keep myself in shape, but not too underweight. Well, through therapy, we kinda discovered that I've got a hint of depression and anxiety so they started me on some medication for that. I have to keep going to therapy two days a week for a while and I have to eat a certain amount of calories per day. After a little while, then I can kinda go on my way and stop therapy when I think I can handle it."

"But the rehab helped right? You don't wanna like, starve yourself anymore?" Ben confirms, placing his hand on my thigh gently.

"It helped more than I could've ever imagined. The first week or so of therapy was practically just a lecture of why I can't starve myself, and who I'd be hurting, and that I could potentially die. Then my therapist would bring up you, and my niece, and my parents, and my best friend. And after a while I just realized that if I'm not gonna do this for myself, that I have to do it for all the people I love."

"Well, I'm so proud of you." Ben tells me, pulling me closer. "I'd never be able to live through half the things you have. I don't know how you do it."

I shrug, leaning against him again. "I mean, I can't really take credit for-"

"Yes, you can. No one forced you to go into rehab. It takes a lot for someone to even admit that they have a problem, and you did that."

"I guess so." I shrug. I look back down at my food, smiling.

I guess I do have reason to be proud of myself.