Ben Simmons: When Two Worlds Become One

Memory Lane

The entire plane ride to Dallas was tragic. I felt sick to my stomach with anger and hurt, my heart felt like physically ached, and I cried off and on the entire trip. Thankfully, I sat next to a very considerate man who carried spare tissues and didn't judge me for my sob stories.

When I walked through the airport to pick ups, I saw my mom standing there. Something about my mom just made me so happy. We've had our issues, but at the end of the day, she's my best friend and I could never go through life without her. The water works started once again, and she pulled me in for a hug, which I must admit was harder with my ginormous belly. She let me cry on her shoulders until her white cardigan had black spots from my mascara. 

"Come on princess, let's go home." She put her arm around me and grabbed my luggage while leading me to our Chevrolet SUV. Home. In the past few months, the word home has felt so foreign. My whole life, home has been Dallas, with all of my family and the Cowboys team, and my friends. They say home is where your heart is, so naturally home became Philadelphia, because Ben was in Philadelphia. He was my home. 

I struggled to hold back tears the entire ride, but as we pulled into the oh so familiar driveway and the wrought iron gates opened to reveal the house I grew up in, part of me felt as peace. A wave of comfort came over me, and I took a deep breath before walking inside. My two dogs, Charlie, a yellow lab, and Shaylee, a goldendoodle, ran to greet me. I slowly bent down, trying not to let the weight of my stomach tip me over, to greet them. They layered sloppy wet dog kisses all over me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I smiled. 

"Is that my sweet angel I hear?" I heard my dad call from upstairs. He walked out of his office and down the stairs to greet me, pulling me into a familiar hug and kissing the top of my head. "It's good to have you home." He said smiling. I smiled back, but there was no hiding the fact that it was a fake smile. My eyes were still glossy and my jaw tightened, everything trying to stop the tears I felt creeping up. "How's our little grandbaby?" He asked, while grabbing my luggage and leading me to my bedroom. "Amazing. I'm so ready for the pregnancy to be over. I want to be a mom, I'm ready to hold my baby," I said smiling and rubbing a hand over my stomach. Just a few more weeks. In the beginning of the pregnancy, I thought it was just going to be me raising our child, but then, a glimmer of hope came back and I was convinced my baby would grow up with a father figure and we could be a normal family. But now, with the due date quickly approaching, I began to doubt that. "Settle in, and we'll go out to dinner tonight. How does that sound?" I nodded, and my dad just knew. He gave a soft smile before turning around to leave. "Dad..." I said before he reached the door. "Thank you." He smiled a little bigger now before closing my door. 

And suddenly, I was alone. Well, not technically alone, but it was just the two of us. I looked around my bedroom which had once been so familiar, but now felt so foreign. My old bed, my old dresser, my old closet. The fluffy white rug that kept my feet warm on early mornings. I walked over to my nightstand where a picture of Ben and I stood proudly. It was from a party during his first trip to Dallas. We were so intoxicated; I kind of laughed looking at the picture, wondering how my parents accepted it in my bedroom, but it was special. That was the night Ben told me he wanted to marry me. 

I walked over to my closet to slide off my coat, and when I did, my eyes immediately went to something - a purple LSU Basketball sweatshirt. I never really wore Ben's clothes, simply because he's a skyscraper compared to me, but I loved that sweatshirt. I still believe it's the most comfortable sweatshirt I've ever worn. I reached in and pulled it off the hanger, looking at it, inspecting every seam. All I wanted to do was pull it over my head and put on sweatpants and walk around the house, repping my boyfriend, like the good ole days. But those days have since passed. So, I balled it up and tossed it to the back of my closet. 

The long flight had be absolutely worn out, and a nap sounded great. I walked over to the light switch. Before I cut it off, though, I remembered the first time showing Ben my bedroom. He didn't pay attention the the chandelier and knocked his head on it, leaving a scratch on his forehead. I almost peed my pants I laughed so hard, but he made me kiss his "wound".  I cut the light off. 

Finding my way to the bed, I laid down. The sheets never felt softer and the memory foam mattress formed perfectly to my body. As I closed my eyes to drift off, images filled my head. It was a Sunday afternoon and my family had left for a Cowboys game, but Ben and I stayed behind to enjoy each other's company. We rolled around naked under the covers for hours - kissing, giggling, talking, and having sex. The best sex. I grabbed my sheets as he thrust and he smirked knowing how good he was. He always let his lips linger on my body. The hours passed, but we didn't notice. 

Oh, I hope one day I will forget.