Chapter 21:The Regrets That Lingers

Lily sat at the kitchen table, staring at the coffee cup in front of her, the steam rising in a languid spiral. The room was quiet now, the sunlight creeping in through the blinds, casting long shadows on the floor. Ben had gone out to grab breakfast, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She had tried to sleep after he left, tried to bury herself under the blankets and let the exhaustion of the night before drag her back into the haze. But the stillness of the room felt different now, empty in a way that echoed the quiet chaos that had followed her all these years.

The events of the previous night—those fleeting moments of connection with Ben—kept replaying in her mind, looping around the edges of her thoughts like an old song she couldn't escape. She remembered the weight of his arms around her, the warmth of his touch that had felt so right in that moment, even though she had known it was a mistake. She had known, deep down, that nothing in her life was as simple as it seemed, and that last night was no different.

But here she was, in the soft aftermath, trying to make sense of it all.

She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Was it regret she was feeling? She hadn't quite decided yet. Maybe it wasn't regret, maybe it was just… confusion. A lingering sense of uncertainty that gnawed at her from the inside out.

Her phone buzzed on the counter beside her, pulling her out of her thoughts. She reached for it, seeing a message from Amy, her best friend. Her thumb hovered over the screen before she tapped it open.

Amy: So, how was last night? You okay?

Lily hesitated, her fingers hovering over the keys as she tried to find the right words. She thought about how she had woken up that morning, how the warmth of the bed beside her had been comforting, but also unsettling. She thought about Ben, and how she wasn't sure what any of it meant. How was she supposed to explain that to Any, when she couldn't even explain it to herself?

Lily: I don't really know yet. It's… complicated.

She hit send, then set the phone down, rubbing her temples as if trying to push away the nagging tension that had settled there. She could hear Ben's voice in her mind—his soft reassurance from earlier, the way he had said, We've got time, right? But did they? Did they really have time? Time for what? To figure out what they were? To figure out what last night had been?

The door opened, and Ben stepped inside, holding a brown paper bag in one hand, the scent of fresh coffee wafting through the air. He looked at her, his expression still a little guarded, as if waiting for her to say something.

"Got breakfast," he said, offering her a hesitant smile. "Hope you're hungry."

Lily managed a small smile in return, her gaze flicking to the bag before meeting his eyes. She could see it there in the way he was looking at her—an unspoken question, a curiosity that lingered between them. He wanted to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. But she didn't have the answers. She didn't even know how to start unpacking the mess inside her.

"Thanks," she said quietly, standing up and walking over to the table. "I am hungry."

She took the bag from him and pulled out a muffin and a cup of coffee. The simple act of it—sitting down together, sharing breakfast—felt almost normal, but in the back of her mind, everything was still unsettled, still so unsure. The silence stretched between them, comfortable but not entirely easy.

Ben sat down opposite her, his eyes tracing the lines of her face as if trying to read the unreadable.

"Hey," he said, his voice low, tentative. "You know, you can talk to me about last night… or, well, anything. I'm not going anywhere."

Lily's breath caught in her throat. She had known he was offering, but hearing him say it out loud made the weight of it all more real, more pressing. She met his eyes, searching for something in them. An answer? A reassurance? But there was nothing there, just the same vulnerability that mirrored her own.

"I don't know what to say," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just… I don't know if I should be feeling like this. Like I've done something wrong. But I can't even figure out what that something is."

Ben's eyes softened, and he reached across the table, his hand hovering near hers before gently touching it. His touch was warm, grounding.

"Hey," he said again, this time with more firmness, "You haven't done anything wrong. We're just figuring this out, okay? I'm not expecting you to have all the answers. Hell, I don't even have them myself."

Lily looked down at his hand on hers, feeling a tremor run through her. She had never been good at letting herself lean into something like this—something uncertain, something real, but messy. She wasn't sure she was ready to open herself up to that again. She had spent so much of her life building walls around her heart, protecting herself from the things she feared would hurt her.

But something about Ben made her want to take the risk. Something about him made her feel like maybe—just maybe—it was worth it.

"I'm not sure what this is," she said finally, her voice quiet but steady. "I don't know if I'm ready for… whatever this is."

Ben nodded slowly, a softness to his expression that made her chest tighten. "I get it. But I'm not asking you to be ready. I'm just here, Lily. No rush. We'll figure it out as we go."

Lily felt the weight of his words settle into her, the sincerity behind them. It wasn't an answer, not really. But it was something. And right now, in this moment, it was enough.

"I think I need some time," she said, her voice shaking just slightly. "I need to think about what I want, about what this means."

Ben squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her skin in a quiet gesture of understanding. "Take all the time you need. I'm here, okay?"

Lily nodded, feeling a lump form in her throat. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that it could be that simple. But there was a part of her—the part that had been burned by life's unpredictability, by the mistakes and the regrets—that couldn't let go of the fear that this, too, would slip through her fingers.

As they sat in silence, the sound of the clock ticking softly in the background, Lily couldn't help but wonder if the regret would always be there. If it would linger like a shadow, trailing her no matter how many times she tried to outrun it. If the mistakes she had made—especially the ones that had led her to this moment—would always haunt her, no matter how much she tried to make things right.

But maybe that was just part of living. The regrets that linger, the things left unsaid, the choices made in moments of uncertainty—they were all pieces of the puzzle, fragments of a bigger picture that she hadn't yet seen.

And maybe, just maybe, she didn't need to have it all figured out. Maybe she didn't need to know what would happen tomorrow, or next week, or even next month.

For now, all she had was today. And today, she would take one step forward, even if it was unsteady, even if it felt uncertain. Because sometimes, that was all you could do.

And maybe, just maybe, it was enough.