Ari let out a blank laugh. She didn’t mean that. If only he could believe that. And Ben was trying, still – attempting to fix this.
He didn’t understand, then. Ari was a great proponent of fixing things, but there was no fixing this. There was no this left to fix – everything he had was broken beyond repair. His sham of a marriage to Dionisia had fallen apart. He had been lying to himself about being a good father to Elliott, evidently. And this was the end of his relationship with Ben.
He felt – he felt like he could have a panic attack: chest constricted, a sudden breathlessness as he sensed Ben reaching out – but the worst of it subsided when Ben’s hand fell away again. Ari exhaled shallowly, counted to five in his head, closed his eyes and briefly, selfishly, sought out some escape from the inevitable.
Of course there wasn’t one, but when he opened his eyes again at least he was newly resolved to it. “No,” he said calmly, tasting acid in his throat. “No, it won’t. I’m sorry –” this was a coward’s way to have a conversation, so he turned and forced himself to look Ben in the eye, “I’m sorry. It was a... mistake to ever involve you.” He meant to have put you through this, and he hoped Ben would come to forgive him, eventually; even after tonight, Ari couldn’t quite bring himself to call the last few years of happiness a mistake, though he knew now it had been. He cast his gaze a little hopelessly around the room, trying not to let bitterness get the best of him. It was over now, and there was little enough to be salvaged, but he wouldn’t storm out or yell or break down here. Maybe then at least Ben might believe he had a little dignity.
“I just,” Ari took a deep breath, checked himself again, “need a minute, and then I’ll go.” Where, he didn’t know: he couldn’t go home tonight – but he couldn’t stay here.
He didn’t understand, then. Ari was a great proponent of fixing things, but there was no fixing this. There was no this left to fix – everything he had was broken beyond repair. His sham of a marriage to Dionisia had fallen apart. He had been lying to himself about being a good father to Elliott, evidently. And this was the end of his relationship with Ben.
He felt – he felt like he could have a panic attack: chest constricted, a sudden breathlessness as he sensed Ben reaching out – but the worst of it subsided when Ben’s hand fell away again. Ari exhaled shallowly, counted to five in his head, closed his eyes and briefly, selfishly, sought out some escape from the inevitable.
Of course there wasn’t one, but when he opened his eyes again at least he was newly resolved to it. “No,” he said calmly, tasting acid in his throat. “No, it won’t. I’m sorry –” this was a coward’s way to have a conversation, so he turned and forced himself to look Ben in the eye, “I’m sorry. It was a... mistake to ever involve you.” He meant to have put you through this, and he hoped Ben would come to forgive him, eventually; even after tonight, Ari couldn’t quite bring himself to call the last few years of happiness a mistake, though he knew now it had been. He cast his gaze a little hopelessly around the room, trying not to let bitterness get the best of him. It was over now, and there was little enough to be salvaged, but he wouldn’t storm out or yell or break down here. Maybe then at least Ben might believe he had a little dignity.
“I just,” Ari took a deep breath, checked himself again, “need a minute, and then I’ll go.” Where, he didn’t know: he couldn’t go home tonight – but he couldn’t stay here.
