‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND why you won’t marry me,’ Ben raged when he finally got Jess back to his apartment. ‘If you love me the way you say you do, then what’s the problem? Hell on earth, Jess, I can give you anything you want.’
‘That’s the problem, Ben. I don’t want what you can give me. I don’t want to live this kind of life,’ she said, sweeping her right arm around at his apartment. ‘It’s too much. We wouldn’t have any real friends. Neither would our children.’
‘That’s ridiculous. I have real friends.’
‘No, you don’t. There wasn’t a single person there tonight who was a real friend. The only real friend you have is Andy in Australia, and that’s because you met him when you weren’t so rich. Being a billionaire means you can’t live an ordinary life, Ben. As your wife, I won’t be able to live an ordinary life either. You’ll want me to go to toffee-nosed dos and dinner parties all the time with people that I despise. You’ll want me to stop making my own clothes. You’ll insist I have a stylist and a designer wardrobe. Our children will have nannies and bodyguards and be sent to snobby boarding schools whilst we stay at home and entertain. I’m sorry, Ben, but that’s not what I want for my children. That’s not what I want for me.’
He stopped pacing around the living room and sent her a disbelieving look. ‘You really mean this, don’t you?’
‘I do,’ she said, even though her heart was breaking.
He swore, then strode over and yanked her hard against him. ‘I could make you change your mind,’ he ground out darkly.
‘No, Ben,’ she said firmly. ‘You couldn’t.’
‘Even if I promise you the world?’
‘Especially if you promise me the world.’
‘Then you don’t really love me,’ he growled and threw her from him.
When she almost fell over he grabbed her again, but not so roughly this time, his expression both apologetic and desperate. ‘I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I would never hurt you, Jess. But please, don’t do this. I beg of you. Stay with me. I need you. I love you. I won’t let you go!’
Jess was not at her best when cornered. ‘You can’t stop me, Ben.’
‘Then go, damn you.’ And, before she could say another word, he was gone, slamming the front door behind him.
She waited for hours but he didn’t come back. She tried his phone but it was turned off. Clearly, he didn’t want her contacting him. She couldn’t rest, just paced the apartment, her mind awhirl with regrets and recriminations.
It had been cruel of her to reject Ben’s proposal like that on the same day that he’d buried his father. It was no wonder he’d lost his temper with her. She’d hurt him. Terribly. At the same time, Jess could not deny that what she’d said had been true. She knew she wouldn’t be happy living this kind of life. And he wouldn’t be happy with her as his wife. They lived in different worlds. She had always led a simple life whereas Ben lived like this, she thought, her gaze once again taking in the sheer luxury of her surrounds.
In the end, Jess made an agonising decision. She packed, then went downstairs and got the doorman to summon a cab for her.
‘JFK airport,’ she told the driver in a broken voice.
She cried all the way to the airport where she had to wait some time before she could get a flight out. Just before she boarded, she sent Ben an explanatory and deeply apologetic text message. She didn’t want him to worry about where she was, but she also didn’t want him to follow her. The plane she caught set down in San Francisco, where she changed planes for the long flight back to Sydney. When she checked her messages, there wasn’t one from Ben.
Jess didn’t sleep much on the plane—she was travelling economy—so by the time she reached Mascot she was very tired and seriously depressed. She caught the bus over to the long-distance car park where she’d left her four-wheel drive, then literally had to force herself to drive home. Fortunately, it wasn’t peak hour in Sydney, so it only took her a couple of hours. Even so, by the time she pulled into the driveway at home, she was totally wrecked.
Her mother must have heard a vehicle pull up outside; the front door was flung open just as Jess staggered up to it.
‘Jess!’ she exclaimed. ‘Good heavens. I didn’t expect it to be you. I was just having morning tea when I heard a car. What are you doing back so soon?’
‘Mum, I can’t talk now. I have to go to bed.’
‘Can you just give me a clue as to what’s happened?’ Ruth asked as she followed her weary daughter up the stairs.
Jess stopped at the top step. ‘If you must know, Ben told me he loved me and wanted to marry me.’
‘He did?’
‘I turned him down.’
‘You turned him down?’ Ruth repeated, somewhat stunned.
‘Mum, he’s too rich. I would have been miserable.’
‘It wouldn’t have been an easy life,’ her mother said, feeling terribly sorry for her obviously heartbroken daughter. But she was proud of her too. Jess had a very sensible head on her shoulders. There weren’t many girls who could turn down a man like Ben.
‘Mum, I have to go to bed,’ Jess said, tears threatening once more.
‘You do that, darling. I’ll go tell your father that you’re home.’
‘What?’ was Joe’s first reaction. ‘She turned him down, did you say?’
‘Yes,’ Ruth said with a sigh.
‘Ben won’t take that lying down,’ Joe said. ‘He’ll come after her.’
‘Do you think so, Joe?’
‘You mark my words. That man’s crazy about our Jess. He’ll be on our doorstep in less than a week.’
But he wasn’t.
A week went by. Then two weeks. Then three.
Still no contact from Ben, either by phone, email or in person.
Joe couldn’t believe it. Ruth wasn’t quite so surprised. Maybe it was a case of out of sight, out of mind. Men, she believed, fell out of love more quickly than women.
On the following Sunday, Ruth did suggest Jess ring him, but this was vehemently rejected.
‘No, Mum, there’s no point. He’s not going to give up his lifestyle for me and I’m not going to give up mine for him. That’s the bottom line. So he’s being sensible, not contacting me. It would only delay the inevitable. And make it even harder for me to move on.’
‘But you’re not moving on,’ Ruth pointed out, frustrated. ‘You’re not even sewing any more!’
‘Give me time, Mum. It’s not even been a month.’
It had been, in fact, three weeks, four days and five hours since she’d last seen Ben, Jess thought bleakly. And even longer since she’d slept in his arms. Which she had the night before the funeral. It had been quite wonderful to have Ben make love to her, face to face, then to fall asleep with her head on his chest and her arms around him. She would remember the way that had felt for ever.
That Sunday night, Jess dreamt a futile dream where she and Ben got married somewhere overlooking a beach. An Australian beach. Shelley Beach, she recognised after she woke. It was an upsetting dream