On an Edge of Glass

gaping hole inside of me.  But at least I can say that when I had the chance, I took it. 
    And, you know, when all is said and done, it really is better to wind up feeling scared and stupid than not feel anything at all. 
    The movement of the car changes abruptly.  I look up.
    “You have got to be kidding me,” I say, my voice laced with disbelief.  I turn in my seat to face Mark.  “You’re joking, right?”
    “What?”
    “ What ?  Ummm… Let’s see.  I’ve just been publicly shot down by the boy that I love and you want to stop for a cappuccino at the place where I first met the aforementioned boy?”  I sweep my hair away from my face so that I can glare at him properly.  “Are you seriously going to pretend like you don’t know what my problem is?”
    Mark drops his ear to his shoulder and lifts his hands.  “Well, you didn’t technically meet him at this coffee shop, so…”
    I level my eyes at him.  “Mark.”
    “Ellie.”
    “Mark.”
    “Ellie.”
    I sigh.  We could go back and forth like this all night.  “Are they even open?  And, don’t you think it’s a little late for caffeine?”
    “They’re open until eleven.”  He grins and steps out of the car.  I follow.  “And, frankly, I think it’s always the right time for caffeine.  But if it will make you feel better, I’ll order a decaf.”
    I roll my eyes.  “Fine.  But, please let the record show that I am not happy about this.”
    “Duly noted,” he says as he takes my hand and pulls me along the sidewalk.  “Cheer up buckaroo.  We’ll get you a hot chocolate and you’ll feel much better.  I promise.”
    “Mark, I’m pretty sure that this is a situation that hot chocolate can’t solve. ”
    He fr owns.  “I think that you’re drastically underestimating the power of hot chocolate.”
     
     
    The coffee shop is virtually empty. Obviously, most people haven’t heard Mark Temple’s mantra about caffeine.  Pressing down on my shoulder, Mark settles me into a chair at a small table against the back wall and goes up to the counter to order our drinks.  I get my phone out of my purse and start messing around—checking my texts and my Facebook account.  It’s mostly stuff about tonight’s gallery show.  
                  “Is this seat taken?”  A familiar voice asks.  It’s deep, with a slight drawl that makes stomach churn and my heart dip. 
    I look up.  Way up. 
    I’m so stunned that it takes me a moment to realize what’s happening.  My face probably looks ridiculous.  I think that my bottom jaw is hovering about an inch off the floor.
    “You’ll catch flies that way,” Ben says as he casually sits in the chair across from me.  He’s taken off the dark jacket and the sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up nearly to his elbows.  He’s got on the same leather cuff that he was wearing the first time that I saw him.
    I snap my mouth closed but I think that he’s probably right.  I’ve already swallowed a swarm of flies and they’re buzzing around inside of me.  
    I look in the direction of the barista counter .  Ben must understand my silent thoughts.  “Mark went out the side door,” he says.  After a pause he clarifies further. “I texted him fifteen minutes ago and asked him to bring you here.”
    “ Why?” 
    Ben smiles that crooked half-smile.  The one that’s made of hollowed out edges and loose heartbeats.  It kills me every time.  “ Why did I ask Mark to bring you to meet me here?”
    I nod slightly.    
    He glances down and sweeps his hand across the small table like he’s brushing away crumbs.  “Because I wanted to tell you that I had my remote audition tonight and I got offered the cello chair in San Francisco.  The audition ran over and that’s why I was late to the gallery.”
    I’m not sure what I thought Ben was going to say, but this isn’t it.  I drop my face so that he can’t see my features caving in.  “Oh,” I murmur, and even that one word feels like it’s choking me.
    The legs of Ben’s chair scrape against the tile floor as he scoots closer.  Now his kneecap is touching mine.  Gently, like he’s concerned that my bones might shatter, he picks up my hand and brings it to his lap.  I gasp. 
    “They told me that they needed a definite answer right away.  Earlier I thought about saying yes, but then everything changed.”  He clears his throat.  “When I left the gallery, I was calling them back