Fate || BENNIFER

Sitting Here Alone...

Jennifer's P.O.V

My heart hammered against my ribs. I knew I was overthinking, my mind making up scenarios that were probably far from reality. But still, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off. Ben had been acting... different lately. Not overly different, but a subtle shift in his demeanor.

I tried to act normal, as I knew how perceptive Ben was. He always seemed to see through me, noticing the slightest tremor in my voice or the fleeting flicker of worry in my eyes. I had to be careful, tread a fine line between being a comforting presence and a probing interrogator.

I made him breakfast, his favorite, the one I keep repeating was too unhealthy to have every day but that he loved. As I poured coffee in his mug, the sound of Ben footsteps on the stairs jolted me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned, a hopeful smile spreading across my face.

"Morning." I chirped, my voice a touch too bright.

He paused at the doorway, his eyes catching mine. They were usually filled with warmth and laughter, but today, they seemed... distant. There was heaviness behind them.

He moved towards me and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to my lips, his touch lingering just a moment longer than usual.

"I should get going." He mumbled, his voice muffled against my cheek.

"I thought you had the day off." I blinked, my brow furrowing.

Ben's gaze flickered away, his eyes setting on the food waiting on the kitchen island.

"I do." He said, his voice a little too loud, too forced. "I'm meeting Matt. Just a quick catch up."

"Right." My voice barely a whisper. I couldn't bring myself to sound unconcerned.

"Is that okay?" Ben seemed to sense my unease.

"Of course." I said, forcing a smile. I hated the way I sounded.

"It won't be long. I promise." He took a step back, his gaze lingering on me.

"Okay." I replied, my voice thin.

"Call me if you need anything." He moved towards the door, his hand hovering over the handle.

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. As the door clicked shut behind him, I remembered something.

"Ben!" I called out, but my voice was swallowed by the silence. He was already gone.

I walked back into the kitchen, my hand reaching out to grab his phone that lay abandoned on the counter. Then I snatched up my own phone and typed out a text to Matt.

"Ben forgot his phone. Just tell him no rush to come back, hang out as long as you like." And I hit send.

My phone buzzed almost instantly, a notification from Matt. I clicked it open, my breath catching in my throat as I read the message.

"Unless he's coming to NYC. I'm with the fam this weekend. Everything okay?" He said.

Ben had lied. My mind reeled.

"I must've gotten it wrong. Sorry to bother you." I hastily typed out a response.

I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. I didn't know what to do next. The sudden silence was deafening as I paced the living room. The urge to call the nanny was strong, a temptation I rarely succumbed to. We prided ourselves on being the primary caregivers for our children, our mothers sometimes helping when neither of us could manage to stay home, only relying on the nanny for rare emergencies. This wasn't an emergency, not yet, but it felt like one.

The kids kept me busy for a while, but as I prepared their breakfast, I couldn't stop humming a melody. It wasn't anything I had heard before, but that melody had taken root in my mind.

I found myself drawn to the piano in the corner of the living room. I took a seat, my fingers hovering over the keys. I didn't know how to play it, and Stevie was the main user, usually making the magic when we rehearsed at home. Yet, throughout the years, I had developed the ability to play basic chords with my right hand.

It wasn't a polished melody, nor did it have any lyrics. The notes, hesitant at first, formed a simple but beautiful tune.

"Sitting here alone, looking at my ring, ring. Feeling overwhelmed, it made me wanna sing, sing. How did we end up here without a rewind? Oh my, this is my life. Sitting here alone..."

It was improvised, a fleeting moment of inspiration. I didn't care about the technicalities, I simply let it flow. It was nothing at the moment, but maybe, just maybe, it had the potential to become something more, a song born out of a simple melody.