[COMPLETE]
When Hanna Haddad embarks on what's supposed to be another uneventful summer as a lifeguard on Cape Cod, a trip to the past comes as an unnerving surprise. The discovery of her estranged mother's journal opens up the world of tragedy and...
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"Benjamin wasn't wrong; Samantha's death changed everything."
Sitting across my mother at a bustling Syrian café, talking about her life over baklava and Arabic coffee, felt almost surreal. Stella hadn't been wrong when she'd said it would feel like no time had passed at all. The two years lost between us seemed like nothing more than dust in my imagination.
"You and Benjamin...can I even ask?" I lifted the small cup of coffee to my lips, halting my thoughts with a sense of caution. Just because she had written about certain things didn't mean she wanted to talk about them, I reminded myself. She said nothing, her lips pressed into a flat line. "I'm sorry; that might be too personal."
"It's fine, Hanna," she said. "What was between Benjamin and me was complicated, but it was never what your father thought it was."
"Did you...love Benjamin?"
She shook her head. "I did at first, but the feeling quickly faded. What I loved was the idea of him, the righteous, faithful, kindhearted husband, but he wasn't mine to take. But Benjamin... I have no doubt he loved me. He even wanted to propose to me after the divorce, but he scrapped the idea when he realized he couldn't do that to Samantha, not even in death."
I swallowed a gulp of sparkling water, the liquid running heavy down my throat. Somewhere out there was an alternate dimension where my mother had married Benjamin, and his plan to bond me and his son would have never existed...because Jesse would have been my stepbrother.
Jesus Christ.
"So, what happened between you two?"
"We grew closer after Samantha's death, bonding through mutual grief. Nicolas didn't understand how much I adored Sam. Her death sent me into one of the worst depressions of my life, and truly, Ben was the one person who got me out of it. I know I saved him, too, but in a different way."
"So, Dad thought you cheated on him?"
She threw her head back and laughed a terrifyingly lifeless laugh. "I never slept with him, let alone did anything that could have desecrated my marriage. But your father could never be convinced because Ben maddened him. He was everything he wasn't and could never be."
Alex's words traveled to the forefront of my mind: "The Carlowes only have two irrational loves: women and themselves. You decide which of them comes first."
Maybe the answer differed between father and son.
"But shouldn't he have believed you—what—over ten years into your relationship?"
She stiffened in her chair, eyes traveling across the café. I noticed they only stopped on young happy couples, whose love, for all we knew, could have been as dysfunctional as that of her and my father all those years ago.
"Nicolas did believe me," she murmured, "but pretending not to was his favorite game to play."
