I didn’t miss the way she said his name. Like she knew him. I should have been more prepared for this moment, but what did she mean? Her Ben? Had to have him? Just went for it?

I avert my eyes from her and momentarily stare at the collage of family photos on the wall. Xander, River, and Bell in front of the Eiffel Tower with Charlotte and her sister on each end, the three kids sitting down for a picnic, and a young River onstage with his guitar. A million questions run through my head as she continues to talk.

“Dahlia! Hey, are you okay? You said you weren’t mad.”

I blink my eyes and try to refocus. “Wait a minute. I’m confused. You need to start from the beginning.”

“Sorry, I assumed River told you everything.”

I shake my head without speaking.

“I just thought . . . I don’t know. Maybe not. Knowing River, I guess not.”

“He didn’t say much. Go on.”

She blinks, watching me closely. “God, Dahlia, I’m sorry.”

“Bell, just tell me,” I manage. It feels like my throat is closing up and my voice comes out as a squeak.

She squirms a little in her chair and looks away. “I only knew Ben for the two-month period before I left school. After the accident you know I never went back. And even though my time with him was short-lived, it had a long-term impact.”

“You mean long-term because of the accident?” It’s all I can manage to ask. I say nothing more, not trusting my voice or its ability to fully convey my real question.

I can tell she’s nervous as she rubs her feet together then pulls them up to the chair. “No Dahlia, that’s not why I really left. I needed time to recover, but I didn’t go back because of the baby.”

My hand flies to my mouth. Baby? What baby? My heart’s pounding, but I bring my eyes back to hers and nod, urging her to tell me the rest.

“Oh God, Dahlia, that’s not where I should have started.”

She opens her mouth as if she wants to say more, but closes it abruptly. I take small shallow breaths watching her, waiting for her to tell me the rest. When she doesn’t I say very calmly, “Bell, go on, it’s okay. Just start wherever you need to.”

She turns to completely face me and places both of her feet firmly on the ground. Her face crumples. “I met Ben one night at the beginning of school at a frat party. We talked, but he ignored my advances and then disappeared. But that didn’t sway me. I was determined—I had this strange feeling that even though he said no, he meant yes. I was a little self-absorbed back then. One night at an after– rush party for Kappa Sigma, I was assigned as Ben’s little sister. Well, I begged the committee to be his little sister. That night, I took care of keeping the alcohol flowing for him and the new prospective pledges he was overseeing. We were all pretty drunk by the time he sent the pledges on a scavenger hunt to find a pair of pink lace panties.” She pauses as if stopping again to assess my reaction.

I have none. I am weighing the cold bare facts of what she’s saying and know what’s coming. She adjusts her ponytail and I try to calm my stomach. It feels like it’s leapt up into my throat. I’m feeling anxious and just want her to get it out.

“Please remember I was young and immature, and I’m not proud of how I acted,” she says and once again all I can do is nod. “Once the pledges went off on their hunt, I came on to him again. And just like all the other times, he refused. I promise he did. But then I followed him into the bathroom and made sure he couldn’t resist anymore. I locked the door, pulled my shirt off, and unzipped my skirt, letting it fall to the ground before asking him if black lace would do.”

I put my hand up in a stopping motion. I don’t need to know anymore. I got it.

“Dahlia, it was all me—honestly, it was.”

All me? What does that mean? He was in a relationship. He should have been able to walk away. God, he did actually cheat on me. Was he always a cheater?

My voice flat, emotionless, I ask, “Was it more than just the one time?”

I wait for her to meet my gaze. Not that it should matter, but for some reason it does. Did Ben have an ongoing affair and I never knew?

She nervously tugs on her bottom lip and shakes her head no. She puts her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt. It doesn’t really matter anyway. He still cheated. I start to feel dizzy.

With guilt evident in her voice she says, “Dahlia, I’m so sorry.”

“Bell, what did you mean by ‘baby’?” I manage to get out.

Her eyes fill with tears. “I got pregnant.”

I swallow. “You have a child together?”

“No Dahlia, we don’t. I gave the baby up for adoption after it was born.”

Freezing, I gasp. I can tell my eyes widen in disbelief at the magnitude of her words. Time stands still. Bell doesn’t say another word, as if letting the shock wear off.

Finally, I manage to mutter, “Did Ben know?” I brace myself for the answer.

She pauses and with a sad expression says, “No, he never knew. I never told him. We were supposed to meet the night I got in the accident; I was going to tell him then. But after the accident, it took months for me to recover. Once I did, I tried to contact him, but he never returned my calls.”

“Does your family know?”

She’s crying now as she tells me, “Yes, they all knew, but I made them promise to never say anything to anyone. I told them I was pregnant after the accident. Xander and River demanded to know who the father was. I knew it was Ben because I hadn’t slept with anyone since I had slept with him. I was still hoping he wanted more. They sought him out, wanted to know who he was, I think they even stalked him at some of the frat parties. But Mom demanded they leave him alone. In the end, when I decided to give the baby away, they were nothing but supportive. Honestly, without my family to help me through it, I don’t know what I would have done.”

And with those words it all falls into place—Xander’s anger at me the night we met and River’s reluctance to tell me anything.

I frantically search for something to say, but I have no words.

“Bell, I have to leave.” Then I somehow manage to get on my feet and dash toward the door. I know I’m going to throw up and hope I make it outside first.

Brigitte is in the kitchen as I hurry through and says, “Dahlia, I just made coffee for you and the missy.”

I don’t answer her; I can’t. Shock and anger pulse through me. Ben cheated on me. I always trusted him and believed him. He’s nothing but a fucking liar!

Six Degrees of Separation

Almost two hours later, I find myself heading north on the 101 and have no idea where I’m going or how I got here. All I know is that when the shock and anger consumed me, I had to get away. But now the numbness subsides, and pain takes over.

Completely exhausted, I get off the Santa Barbara exit and pull into a gas station to ask directions to the nearest hotel. The clerk tells me if I’m looking for a nice place, the Four Seasons is due west. I’m not looking for anything in particular, but I follow his directions. Within fifteen minutes I’m pulling into the hotel. It looks more like a Mediterranean getaway than a place to be alone and not think about anything. But at this point I’m so tired, I don’t really care where I stay.

Walking into the lobby, I immediately notice its grandeur. I go to check in without any luggage and the front desk assistant tells me they only have Premier rooms available. I hand her my credit card and tell her that’s fine. When she asks me how many nights, all I can tell her is that I don’t know. She smiles at me and says they can’t guarantee availability any night other than tonight if I don’t commit, so I tell her a week. She smiles and hands me a room key, asking if the valet can get my luggage. I just tell her I’m good but she still asks the doorman to show me to the elevator. He does so and pushes my floor number before sending me up to my room.