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It’s completely random that Rey meets Ben Solo. Total happenstance. Pure luck that he walks into the coffee shop she spends way too many hours at to pay her tuition, peacoat drenched and rain dripping from his hair.
“May I use your phone?” There’s a small puddle collecting by his loafers that she’ll need to mop up when he’s gone. “Please. I’d use mine but it’s waterlogged. Won't turn on."
For a moment, Rey considers saying no. Then, the man flashes her the most pathetic, puppy dog expression that somehow fits really well with his silver-streaked hair and salt and pepper beard, and she thinks, what’s the harm?
“Sure.” Rey fishes out her phone from her pocket and hands it to him. It’s some battered flip phone she only bought after she lost her actual one during her second year. If he wants to go through all that to steal a $60.99 phone, she figures he deserves it.
“Thank you.” He nods, thick bands on his fingers glinting in the overhead lights.
Five minutes and a phone conversation Rey couldn’t help overhearing between serving a couple customers later, it’s just the two of them in the coffee shop.
“Thank you again,” he—Ben, she caught him muttering—says, returning her phone. He brushes his drying hair back. “I appreciate it.”
“No problem.” Rey shoots him her customer service smile.
They make small talk over the course of ten minutes while Rey wipes down counters and dries mugs. He’s in town for business, new-ish to the area, got caught in the storm a block away when he got lost looking for his driver. She smiles and nods, laughs politely when he says he’s getting too old for out of town trips anymore. He doesn’t look a day over an aging-like-wine forty-something.
Fifty, if she had to really push it. But, like, a fit fifty. Still virile fifty.
Just as Rey spots the tip of a sleek, black sedan edging into the parking lot, Ben asks if he can get an americano before he heads out. He hums some tune she’s only heard during the oldies section of campus radio while she pulls shots of espresso. After, he casually tucks a brown bill into the empty tip jar as he picks up the paper cup.
“Thank you!” Rey calls out, absolutely stunned as she tears her eyes from the $100 bill to Ben’s broad, retreating back.
He waves at her from over her his shoulder, and the doorbell jingles as he leaves.
The second time Rey sees him is a week later, when he brings a book and a working cell phone with him. He sits at a recently vacated table—the only table in the tiny shop that gets an unobscured view of Rey behind the bar, free of tall monsteras fanning out and a giant pillar—and gets another americano. He chuckles when she tells him, “of course I remember you.”
“I’m Ben,” he says.
“I know,” Rey says back, a genuine smile peeking out. “I heard you say it when you were using my phone.”
“Ah, makes sense.” Sticking his thumb between the pages, Ben marks his spot and closes his book around it. "You remembered."
“I’m Rey.”
“I know,” he echoes, tipping his chin at the badge pinned to her shirt, REY written in blocky letters and a blue butterfly drawn in marker beside it. “It’s a beautiful name. Fitting.”
That time, she finds her tip—the exact same unbelieve amount—tucked under the succulent pot at the table where Ben sat. The only indication it was for her was a napkin folded around it, with a crude, endearingly drawn butterfly with what looks to be six—six?—wings.
“You’re not, like, stalking me or anything, right?”
Ben tips his head back and laughs. It’s a really good one that he seems to have needed, judging by the hand on his chest and the shaking of his shoulders. The sound turns a few eyes. “No, I’m not. My,” he clears his throat, getting the last of his laugh out, “organization is expanding into this location so I’m required to be here and on-site.”
“Like a nonprofit?” Rey raises her eyebrow at him from across the counter.
If he’s a board member or some executive, that’d explain all the designer clothes that mark him so obviously as someone who isn’t local. Makes sense he’d be here, too, since Rey can throw a stone in any direction and hit someone who’d benefit from a good social program.
Hell, the only reason she’s able to attend university at all is thanks to a copious amount of grants, her seventy percent scholarship, and this job. Plus student loans for everything else those won’t cover, which, turns out, is still a lot.
Ben rests his chin on his fist, a gentle smile curling his lips. “Something like that.”
Dumping an espresso puck into the bin, she nods to herself. There aren’t any red flags going off in her head, no alarm bells. It’s been two months since he first tracked rainwater into the shop; if he wanted to kill her, he’d presumably have done something more than give her close to a grand in tips and read an obscure Italian novel while having only two sips of coffee.
Every time, Ben gets an americano and only drinks enough for about an inch of liquid to disappear. It baffles her. She'll never understand the rich.
While Rey’s morning shift is nearing its end, Ben lingers around the lids and stir sticks station. His hand touches the small of her back for a respectful, fleeting second as she's clearing haphazardly tossed sugar packets. Then he pulls it away.
“Let me take you out to dinner, Rey.”
Her heart lurches. The patch of skin on her back where he touched her feels warm. Don’t people usually ask to take someone out?
“Right now?”
Her hair’s gotta be a mess—she hasn’t had time to check the state of her loose claw clip in the staff bathroom since her break a few hours ago, and she doesn’t often look or feel too hot after an eight hour shift.
“No, not now,” he chuckles. “Next Saturday, maybe? If you’re not working then.”
“Yeah, o-okay, sure. I think I’m off Saturday.” Even if she isn’t, she’ll switch shifts with someone, do whatever she needs to do to make sure her Saturday is free.
“Perfect.” Ben’s smile—his real smile that reaches his eyes, not the one he gives Rey’s coworkers when they serve him while she’s busy with another customer—is stronger than anything she could brew. Sends a shot of energy right through her. It’s hard not to smile back when he looks at her like she’d just promised him her hand in marriage. “It’s a date.”
There are some things Rey expected when she started seeing a filthy rich man:
1. flowers
2. jewelry she's afraid to wear
3. hot, dirty sex in hotel rooms she couldn't afford in her wildest dreams
She gets all of that, of course.
A fresh bouquet of two dozen roses greets her when she opens the door on the Saturday of their first dinner date. An autumn assortment full of reds and purples and oranges delivered to the coffee shop when Ben can’t see her for two weeks due to a business trip. There’s not a day that goes by without gorgeous flowers in the vase decorating her tiny apartment’s table.
Although she insists that she doesn’t need anything, not the flowers nor the egregious tips he still leaves her when he gets his americano at the coffee shop, Ben still spoils her. Says it makes him happy. Fulfills some innate need for him to give her nice things she deserves.
A tennis bracelet on their two month anniversary she doesn’t wear, because she’s worried it’ll make her a target on the subway or shady alley to the dumpsters behind work. A dainty diamond necklace one evening, simply because he saw it at one of those luxury, tax-free airport boutiques and thought she’d like it—she does, but she only pulls it out when she knows she’ll see him. Otherwise, Rey’s convinced she’ll lose it or break it somehow.
And, obviously, there’s the sex. Their first few dates Ben kissed her sweetly on the front steps, in the car, and outside the coffee shop when he’d pick her up from her shift. Chaste. Respectful. Never pushing for more than Rey was willing to offer, except Ben must have some archaic idea of what a twenty year old might want from a hot, huge, older man who could so easily crush her but instead skims over her sides with his hands so reverently, like she’s stained glass.
One evening Rey tugs him into her flat by the lapel of his coat, spelling it out for him that, “yes, fuck yes, I need you!”
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, princess,” Ben coos when he has her sitting on his face, riding his lips and tongue and teeth while he licks her to a second orgasm. “Let daddy make up for it.”
When she’s able to get her university work done in advance and manage a weekend off work, they spend every minute of it together. Ben takes her to restaurants with cuisine she’s never even heard of. They see movies at cinemas where food and alcohol is served right to their private, sectioned off seats (though not a lot of watching was done, in fairness). And once they’re ready to call it a night, they return to whatever fancy hotel suite Ben has booked for his stay, where he fucks her against every stable surface until Rey collapses in his arms and nods off with his fingers in her hair.
“Why don’t you take some time off at the café?” Ben asks her one Sunday morning, voice still raspy with sleep. The tips of his fingers gently trail over her bare shoulder, down her arm, dusted with freckles. “I worry about your health with a busy workload like yours. I know exactly how difficult it is balancing work and school, sweetheart. Your apartment isn’t anywhere near either of them, either. So much time wasted commuting.”
“And you,” Rey adds against the crook of his neck. His body rumbles underneath her with suppressed laughter. “Gotta balance you too.”
“That’s right. And me.” Kisses against the crown of her head, breathing stirring brunette strands. “Let me take care of you, princess.”
Just last night Rey had to fight him tooth and nail to keep him from paying off the outstanding balance on this semester’s tuition. She eventually got him down to just covering her textbooks, and she insisted on keeping all the receipts to pay him back after she’s graduated.
“You take care of me enough.” Rey yawns. “Besides, that fortune of yours is gonna dry right up if you keep spoiling me the way you do.”
Disbelief shines on his face, brows knitted together, lazy grin pulling up one side of his lips. “Doubtful.”
“And what is it you do again?”
It’s a question she asks him often, roughly once every week or so if the conversation calls for it. Sometimes, even when it doesn’t.
His laugh comes right after, like it always does. “You know what I do.”
“Right,” she makes air quotes, “‘make sure things run smoothly at work’, because nonprofits are notorious for raking in cash.”
“I never said it was a nonprofit, to be fair.”
She rolls her eyes. “So what is it?”
“Do we have to talk about this right now?” With the way Ben’s thumbs are rubbing circles over her hips, lips skimming over her forehead , it’s apparent he’s not going to budge on keeping her in the dark today, either. “I’ve spent more years working than you’ve been alive. Dedication breeds fortune, is all, and now I want to share it with you—is that such a crime?”
“Guess not…” Her lips purse, pouty, as she plays his words over and over in her mind, turning them around, studying them from every angle. “Why me?”
“You helped me when I asked.”
“Huh?” Rey lifts her head to look at him. “Wait, when I lent you my phone? That’s it?”
Exhaling, Ben cups her cheek. His hand is warm. Solid. There, just like he’s been for the last half year. “Does it have to be more than that? I’m jaded, Rey. People in my life… in my line of work, they aren’t the kindest. If I came to them in need of anything, they’d see it as an opportunity to screw me over. But you? It only took you a second to help me.”
“We need to get you better friends,” she laughs softly.
“Perhaps. Now, humour me. What do you want, more than anything?”
She considers the question. Long enough that Ben says her name, and she has to tell him she didn’t fall asleep, just thinking.
“Always wanted a home. One that’s mine, you know? Somewhere I don’t have to tense up when I hear the front door open or heavy footsteps stomping down the hall. Somewhere my heart rate doesn’t spike when I accidentally drop a glass of water,” Rey confesses into the room, gaze firmly away from Ben’s. “I want the fenced backyard, and the flower beds, and a home where I can throw open the windows to let fresh air in without hearing drunks brawling in the streets.”
Ben’s silence following her sharing the perpetually locked up part of her psyche makes her self conscious. Sitting up, Rey starts to get out of bed to scream in the shower when his arm bands around her waist, bringing her right back against his side. She slots in perfectly, like she’s always meant to be there.
“Okay,” is all he says.
“Okay what?”
“I hear you. Thank you for telling me. I promise—” The blare of his cellphone cuts through the tender moment. Ben sighs, tipping Rey’s chin up with his finger so he can kiss her slowly, thoroughly, before he murmurs a quick, “sorry,” and gets out of bed to retrieve his phone.
Rey admires his ass as he walks over to the suite’s closet—turns out there are people who actually unpack their luggage in hotels—and presses his phone against his ear. Despite his hushed tone, she catches a few things like second warehouse, and figure it out, and is this an issue he needs to handle? From the hard lines on Ben’s face, lips pressed firmly together in chilling disappointment, something’s wrong.
“Work stuff?” Rey asks when Ben hangs up, grinning when his hips buck as she slowly strokes his hardening cock. He was so absorbed in the call that he didn’t register her slipping out of bed and kneeling in front of him as he was idly thumbing through hangers.
“Not important,” he groans, long and throaty, fingers lacing in her hair when she takes as much of him into her mouth as she can manage. “Sweetheart, we need to get some breakfast in you.”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
The rough chuckle that gets her is downright sinful. Obscene, just like the way he leans over and picks her up like she’s nothing, depositing her on the bed between his legs.
“You were going to get sore knees down there,” he says, head tipping back against silk sheets when Rey deepthroats him again, gagging when his tip hits the back of her throat. “Shh, relax, princess. Slowly… you can take it, perfect girl. Open up for daddy.”
She can’t count how many times she’s had him in her mouth but each time it’s like she’s doing it for the first time again. A size like Ben, she doesn’t simply get used to. It stretches her lips, works her throat until there’s tears in her eyes and drool down her chin, coating her fingers pumping what she can’t work into her mouth.
When Ben’s bucking his hips, fucking into her mouth and moaning, fisting her hair to keep her right there, just like that, he lets out a snarl and stops himself. Goes completely still. Rey gets a second to wonder what just happened before he grabs her again, rolling her over so he’s above her. Then he’s shifting down, down, spreading open her thighs and burying his face into her slick pussy with an animalistic growl she can feel.
“Keep them spread, Rey,” he warns her when her thighs twitch on their own, trying to clamp around his ears. He could easily pin them down, keep her open just for him, but he’s giving her a chance to behave.
To be good.
“Yes, daddy,” Rey whimpers, muscles in her thighs shaking with effort to stay spread while Ben parts her folds with his thumbs and licks a long stripe up to her clit. She’s melting into the bed. And she’s making a mess of the sheets and Ben’s lips, his chin, from her needy grinding.
It doesn’t matter that she can still taste his precum, licking her lips and wishing she’d gotten more of it. It doesn’t matter that any other man she’s ever been with would’ve shoved her head down and spent down her throat, because it’s Ben. This is Ben and he's never once let himself experience an orgasm before she does.
Fuck, she might love him.
“Always so obedient for me, aren’t you, princess? So perfect and sweet and mine.” Rey squeals when his arms run up her body, massive hands fully engulfing her breasts as he squeezes and pinches her nipples, still lapping at her pulsing clit and sucking her folds. “Let go, my love. Need to taste you coming on my tongue—soak me, Rey, be sweet and listen to daddy.”
Body seizing, her hands grip the sheets, knuckles going white as she comes with Ben’s name on her lips. It’s euphoria coursing through her veins, pleasure rocketing from his lips around her clit, his whispered praises floating in her mind as he wrings every last drop of her orgasm out of her—"Good. You're so good, perfect girl, I love you."
I love you.
“What?” Her chest is heaving, fuzz blurring the edges of her vision as she struggles to sit up on her elbows.
“Hm?” Trailing kisses along her inner thighs rubbed red from whisker burn, peering up at her with glistening lips and affection clear on his features.
“What did you say? Just now.”
“Oh,” Ben blinks, “I love you.”
This is the point where she’d bolt. To be honest, that’s kind of her thing. No feelings. Just a good time waster while she’s dying from school work to maintain her scholarship and taking as many shifts she can. Mediocre sex. No gifts, no two month anniversary celebrations, and no I love yous six months in.
But it feels right, hearing Ben moan it against her pussy, and even now, when he’s got that blissed out softness to his face even though she’s the one who got off.
Rey cards her fingers through his hair, sunlight peeking through the curtains highlighting both the dark and the silver woven in bits between it.
“I love you too,” she has to clear her throat around the emerging lump, but she’s smiling when he shifts up her body to press their foreheads together.
“If you really love me,” Ben starts, “you’ll let me take care of you.”
“You have been taking care of me!”
“Let me do more, sweetheart.” Their lips tenderly touch, and she sighs a little against his jaw, defeated.
“Not a lot more, okay?” Rey grins as she points a finger at him.
Instead of answering, Ben slips his hand back down between her legs and makes her forget any stipulations she’d set. She should’ve known. After all their time together, Rey has the feeling he usually gets whatever he wants.
Three months.
It takes Rey’s boyfriend (holy shit, she has a boyfriend and not some situationship or friend with benefits that’ll leave her empty) three months to take care of a lot more than she’d said he can.
“You got me what?!” Her fingers shake around her cellphone. Rey stops right in the middle of the sidewalk, waving off the pedestrian who almost bumped into her and is now giving her the finger.
“I got us,” Ben corrects her, tone entirely too placating, “a house, yes. Let me swing by now. I’ll take you right to it. You’re going to love it.”
Flabbergasted, Rey drags her free hand down her face, messing up her mascara. “This cannot be what you meant when you said you wanted to take care of me.”
“It was one of the meanings, yes.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Nuts about you.” Ben’s laugh breaks through the shock in her system, and Rey cracks a smile. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“I took Finn’s shift, actually.” Someone knocks their shoulder into hers, and Rey glares at them before she shuffles to the side of the path. “It’s only four hours, so maybe you can pick me up after?”
“You promised me you’d cut down on your hours at the café during your midterms.”
“Yeah, well, you promised you wouldn’t go overboard,” Rey shoots back.
“I did no such thing. I would never lie to you so blatantly like that.” The sound of Ben blowing a kiss into his phone never fails to soften any emerging prickly emotions in her. He’s a forty-eight old man, for goodness sake! And she’s the one bringing out all of his shameless affection.
She’s incredibly lucky.
“I’ll see you at 8, princess. Have a good shift. I love you,” Ben says.
The words come easier to her every time she says it and yet its meaning is still so potent to her. “I love you too.”
It’s almost certain that everyone thinks Rey’s a lunatic, cheesing to herself on the sidewalk as she slips her phone into her purse (dark red leather, a small butterfly monogrammed on one side of the handles). She could not care less.
“Alright, open your eyes.”
The hands obscuring her vision pull back. Light flooring, huge, empty rooms, and pale blue walls overwhelm her when she opens her eyes. A lingering cleaning solution smell tickles her nose.
“Holy shit.”
Rey’s knees threaten to buckle, but Ben steadies her with his hands on her waist, always ready to catch her.
“Come on inside.” Slowly, to give her time to absorb it all, he leads her through the various barebones rooms, telling her his initial plans for their living room, dining room, kitchen. Shows her all these different paint swatches if she happens to hate the cream and blue walls, then the booklet with the wood options for cabinets. “Anything you want, princess. It’s all yours to do whatever with it.”
The glass door leading to the backyard slides open smoothly, requiring little effort from Rey. Stars in her eyes, hope bubbling in her heart, she gazes out into the backyard. Their backyard. Like a slice taken out of her dreams, a tall fence surrounds a field of clover, soft under her bare feet when she steps across patio stones.
“Redoing the fence?” Rey asks when she spots a pile of wood pushed to one side.
Ben shakes his head, watching her from the back porch. Giving her space to explore and familiarize herself, knowing he’s right there if she needs him.
“I haven’t had time to get the flower boxes built yet,” he answers. “I figured we could make a weekend trip to the garden centre, pick out seeds and sprouts and what have you while I make the boxes.”
It’s nearly November.
“I don’t think any garden centres are gonna be open right now. A lot of flowers don’t really grow well in fall.” Rey laughs, skipping back over to Ben, extending her arms up so he can lift her. Her legs wrap around his waist. “But I’m sure you’ll just make a call and get one open, right?”
Ben brushes their noses together, smiling. “You know me so well.” Then, his voice turns soft, vulnerable. “What do you think?”
“What do I think?” She blinks at him, befuddled. “Ben, you got me a house!”
Uncertainty is already seeping into Ben’s face, twisting his lips down. “Is it not to your liking? I can have it all redone, my love. I took a gamble on the location; it’s close enough to work and school, and the transit lines reach here since you won’t let me buy you a car. It’s really safe, but if—”
Rey kisses him. It’s always been a solid way to get either of them to shut up. When he melts against her, shoulders relaxing under her arms, she pulls back. Lately, she can’t stop smiling like a doofus. Hopefully Ben hasn’t broken anything in her.
“It’s perfect,” she says, words ghosting under his jawline where she’s trailing kisses along his scruff. “Everything is perfect. You’re perfect…” Her breath catches in her throat. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure." Rey knows he means it. Some days she still finds it hard to believe that he’s wired that way, that giving her everything he can is super fulfilling to him, but nearly a year into their relationship, his constant urge to spoil her clearly isn’t waning. “Let’s go see upstairs.”
“There’s an upstairs?!” A gasp, then a choked laugh when Ben ducks his head under the sliding door frame and pretends to drop her in the process.
Fresh linen scent swirls in her senses, Ben’s eternal warmth pressed firmly against her back, making Rey a little grumpy this morning because he knows how warm she runs. It’s their second week of mornings in the new house. Between the packing and moving and unpacking, not to mention the stack of forms she had to fill and submit for the address change, the two of them are sorely behind on relaxing time.
“Babe,” Rey groans, weakly swatting behind her. “Too hot.”
Sheets shuffle. Ben’s lips meet the shell of her ear, teeth on her earlobe. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he chuckles at his own joke. The rumble to his words, the gravelly edge, runs down right between her legs.
Who even cares about how warm she feels when her boyfriend sounds like that in the morning? Definitely not her.
“Mm, good morning,” he murmurs when she presses her ass against his morning wood. His arm snakes over her waist to press down on her stomach, bringing his length flush against her. “Does my girl want to play?”
Glancing at the clock on the wall (Ben’s idea, because he’s adamant about being able to tell the time outside of using a phone), Rey notes that Ben’s friends are about to arrive in thirty minutes to help assemble flower boxes.
“It’s almost nine…” she informs him, trailing off into a whine as he hikes her leg up and rubs his stiff cock against her slit. She gasps when the tip brushes over her clit, a shiver running down the nape of her neck.
“I’ll be fast.”
And yet, Ben is anything but fast. He takes his sweet time sliding home, peppering kisses down Rey’s neck, over her shoulder, until he’s balls deep and pushing in that little bit more, just to hear her squeal. Every time it feels like she’s being split open.
“Too full!” The pressure stings for a second before he pulls out, fucking her in short, easy strokes while Rey melts into the mattress. One paw cupping her breast, pinching her nipple, the other strumming her clit, fingers slick with her juices.
“Open up,” he commands, ignoring her whimper when he pulls his hand away from her clit and taps her cheek. Her lips swiftly part for him while he holds his fingers in front of her fuzzy vision, her foggy brain. Shiny, thin, translucent ropes web between two digits. “Suck.”
Rey lets out a wanton moan, trailing her tongue along the seam between his index and middle finger, collecting them into her mouth where she suckles them obediently, all while her hips are fucking back against Ben’s not-enough thrusts. Other hand on her hip stills her, keeps her right in place where he can keep driving her insane.
“Daddy, faster... Fuck me, faster!” She’s desperate, begging warped around her mouthful, slurring from the pressure he’s putting on her tongue.
“Watch your language,” Ben clicks his tongue, his disapproval burning on Rey’s cheeks. “That’s not how we ask for things.” He drags out another squeal from the back of her throat when he slams his hips against her ass, hitting so fucking deep inside her. “Be sweet, princess. I know you can do it.”
“Please…” Tears blur her vision and her heartbeat is in her throat. Ben’s torturing her and he knows it. “Need you faster, daddy, please. Need you to make me come.”
“There’s my good girl. So polite,” comes Ben’s acquiescing groan. His thrusts pick up speed, pulling out just far enough so only the fat head of his cock stays in her pussy before shoving right back in, stretching her fluttering walls again and again. “Your little pussy keeps pulling me back in, sweetheart. So hungry for daddy’s seed, aren't you?”
Rey’s brain is a puddle in her skull but she’s nodding, drool escaping around his fingers still in her mouth, the sucking motions and rhythm of his thrusts the only things keeping her tethered to earth.
“I know that’s what you want,” Ben gives her pebbled nipple one last tug before it skims down her tummy, rubbing circles over her neglected clit again. “Princess wants my cum to fill her up until she can’t take it anymore… but you’re going to take it, just like how you’re taking me so well. Daddy’s going to put a baby in your tummy, give you everything you need to fill our house.”
“Yes, yes, daddy, please—fill me up, give me a baby—need it so bad, need it…”
“Keep you stuffed full of daddy’s love, all round and lush and fertile. Whatever you want, princess, I’ll give you everything.” He punctuates his vow with a particularly deep thrust, heavy balls slapping against her soaked folds.
Just like that, Rey comes with a choked cry, pussy clenching down on his cock as pleasure shoots through her system. Ben continues to fuck her through it, biting down on her shoulder and kissing, licking the teeth marks he leaves in her freckled skin until he’s painting her insides with hot seed. It trickles out of her when he eventually pulls out, but he takes his fingers out from between Rey’s lips and pushes the cum back inside, earning a soft mewl.
“Can’t waste this,” he says, kissing her disheveled hair.
Not a moment later, the doorbell rings. Mood ruined, the two of them scramble to get decent, Rey sticking her tongue out at Ben when she beats him to the shower. When he cracks open the glass door and slaps her wet ass, chuckling at the red hand mark it leaves behind, her laughter rings out, bouncing off tile and filling their already overflowing home with more joy.
It’s easy. Everything is easy when she has a partner who gets off on making her happy, ignorant to the fact that it’s not his gifts that have her ecstatic but him. Ben gave her a physical house, with laughter and light decorating its halls, and he gave her a home, in the all-encompassing blanket of his love. How lucky is she?