Splintered by Kelly Miller Page B

she’d eaten the same chicken dish thirty-two times over the last eight months since they’d been living together.
    Subtle hints of recipe magazines left lying on the couch hadn’t been enough to entice him to expand his culinary horizons. Eventually, she knew she’d have to tell him the hard truth. Either that or suffer the same two meals each week for the next twenty years.
    “You’re home early.” Ben stopped chopping onions and stretched out a cheek so Emma could kiss it.
    She planted an exaggerated smooch on him and then moved over to the sink to turn on the faucet. “Why are you so stubborn? You’d rather cry than admit you need running water?”
    “Just showing you my sensitive side, babe.” Ben looked at her, batting his eyes demurely. He looked goofy with mock tears running down his face. She couldn’t help but chuckle. That was the thing she found most attractive about Ben—his sense of humor. No matter what the situation, she could always count on him for a laugh. Emma snagged a slice of red pepper that had yet to be added to the big pot. Her hand barely missed a swat.
    Ben nodded his head toward the table. “I’ve got wine.”
    “There is a God.”
    “Rough day at work?”
    Emma poured the deep red liquid into two glasses, filling hers three-quarters full. She walked back to the counter and set Ben’s beside him. “Not so much work; I’m wrestling with a another kind of problem.”
    “Tell me.”
    “I got a call from Lily Eastin, Maddy’s mother.”
    “You mean the woe-is-me whine bag? What’s it been, three years?”
    “Four.” Emma and Ben had started dating after the best friend explosion, so he’d never met Lily but he knew the stories, both good and bad. A couple of times he’d asked to come along to lunch with Maddy, but Emma always made up one excuse after another until Ben finally got the hint. She felt guilty for not including him in that part of her life, but for some reason she was uncomfortable with the thought that Maddy might talk to Lily about Ben.
    “Maddy was almost abducted on her way to school Monday morning.”
    “You’re kidding me.” Ben put his spoon down and wiped his hands on the towel resting over his shoulder. “Is she okay?”
    Emma nodded. “Lily called me and completely broke down. She told me Maddy got away, but the Temple Terrace police haven’t found the guy yet.” She gave Ben the rest of the details, what few she knew, and added, “Lily said the girl’s a complete mess. Understandable, but it’s not helping that Maddy won’t talk. Lily thought I might have a better chance at getting her to open up.” She sighed. “You know I love Maddy and I want to be there for her, but it’s . . . complicated.”
    “I know it is, babe, but think about it. Things must be pretty bad for Maddy if Lily swallowed her pride and called after so many years.”
    Emma took a sip of the wine she’d been swishing around in her glass and watched him turn back toward the stove to test the doneness of a hot spaghetti noodle. His gray army shirt was stretched across his broad chest. Muscular arms peeked out from beneath the sleeves. Even without a shirt announcing his profession, his haircut screamed “military.” The high-and-tight was also cut shorter than usual these days—the thinning brown hair on top of his head looked better when it was kept trimmed.
    Ben shrugged his shoulders. “But what do I know? If this is causing you so much heartache, maybe you should cut them both out of your life.” He stopped stirring the sauce and looked at Emma. “Or you could send Lily a text. Something like, ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, you’re a whiny bitch, don’t you get it, we’re through’?”
    Emma looked up at Ben, her mouth open. She was surprised by his callousness. Then she saw the grin spreading across his face.
    “Oh, you!” Emma put down her wine glass and lunged at him, tickling him in the ribs. With a dripping spoon in one hand and a spatula