Hi guys! This is my first Secret Life story, so be easy on me (: Haha. This chapter is kinda short, just to let you know.
Do you really think I own The Secret Life of the American Teenager? Didn't think so.
She shot him a half-hearted smile as she poked at her food, chewing mindlessly for what seemed like hours. As she finished the last bites of her casserole, the casserole Ben's cook had made, she sighed. Was it strange for a casserole to seem so foreign to her? Was it strange that a woman with a five year old son could not cook even a simple casserole? Absurd, random thoughts like these had crossed her mind for the past few weeks as she lay in the bed his maid had made for her, finished her shower and grabbed the towel that the housekeeper had laid out for her, and was stuck in traffic as Ben's driver drove her across town. Not once in the two years which she lived with Ben had she lift a finger. Not once had she had to do her own laundry. Not once had she had to cook, let alone step in the kitchen, without Ben's hired help finishing the job for her. It was luxurious for the first three months, but by the fourth, Amy began to feel helpless. Ben had put her on a pedestal and she loved it. But every time Amy had wanted to take John to the neighborhood park, Ben would insist that his driver take them. Every time she had wanted to test out one of her mother's recipes, Ben insisted his cook do it for her. She adored the fact that he was looking out for her, but she was her own person. As crazy as it sounded, she wanted to learn how to do laundry. She wanted to be able to drive her own car, and wash it. She wanted to be able to cook for John, for all she was able to do was place food in the microwave.
"Delicious, isn't it?" Ben commented, placing a spoonful of casserole into his mouth. "Nancy did a good job."
Amy smiled weakly. "Yeah, she did." She put her fork down and turned towards the noisy boy at the end of the table. "How about you, John? Do you like the casserole?"
John scrunched up his face in disgust. "Nah."
"But Nancy spent hours on it. She cooked it just for the three of us." Ben explained.
John pouted. "Ick. Why can't she cook like Denny's Mom does? Denny's mom makes macaroni and cheese and spaghetti. Nancy always make casseroles and soy loaf and green bean soufflé."
Amy chuckled at her son before staring at her empty plate. For the past month or so, she had doubted her relationship with Ben. After dealing with the hired help of his for two years, she had come to realize that the reason she had stuck with him was because he acted like a security blanket of some sorts. It wasn't love that pulled her to him; it was the fear of what would happen after she left him. She had never been in a valid relationship with anyone but him, and she was uncertain about what the world outside of the Boykevich home had in store for her. But she'd had enough. She and John deserved someone was strong and handled his own responsibilities, without someone else handling them for him. She too, was strong. After being locked in her ivory tower, or the Boykevich realm, she realized that she had her own responsibilities as well. She had a son she needed to support. She hadn't had a job in four years, only relying on Ben's trust fund which had been unfrozen on his eighteenth birthday. If she was going to be a first-rate mother that John could look up to, she wasn't going to sit around and let the nanny take care of John for her. No, this was it. It was time to step up.
"Ben?" she asked, her voice quivering. "Can I speak to you in the living room?"
"But Nancy's got dessert coming. Baked apples, you're favorite." he said, winking.
She didn't even bother smiling. She gazed at him with serious eyes and nodded towards the living room. "We need to talk."
"Oh, okay." Ben said, standing up and leading her to the living room. The two sat down on opposite couches in awkward silence.
Amy cleared her throat, attempting to break the silence. She glanced at engagement ring that rested on her fourth finger before looking up at Ben with solemn eyes. "Ben, you've done so much for John and me the past five years. I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough for that."
Ben smiled. "You'll thank me by walking down the aisle in November."
Amy felt a lump in her throat as she struggled to swallow. "That's what we need to talk about."
"What? What do you mean?" Ben asked, his eyes widening.
"You're important to me, Ben. You really are. I don't think I would have lasted through my pregnancy with John if you weren't by my side. But--"
"But what?"
Amy sighed. "There's no easy way to say this, but marriage isn't what I want right now."
"Alright, we can wait awhile longer." Ben suggested, worry still evident in his eyes.
"That's not what I mean, Ben." Amy replied. "What I mean is, I don't think marriage is the best thing for us. We had a great five years together, and I'll never forget them. They'll always have a special place in my heart. But recently, I realized that this isn't the life that I want to live. You're used to this way of life, but I'm not. I don't live this way. I want to get a job. I want to support John and save for his college education."
Ben began to blink back tears. "But I make plenty of money, Amy. And it's clear that my dad's business will be handed down to me in a couple of years. I'll make more than enough for both you and John."
"You don't understand, Ben. John is my responsibility. I made a decision to keep him and raise him. It's only fair that I make my own money to support him, and not sit around while you go out and work. It's not going to be easy, but this is something I need to do."
"So are you l-leaving?" Ben stammered, tiny sobs escaping his mouth.
Amy nodded. "It's about time I step up and be a real mother to John. I've been thinking about this for months, Ben. I'm sorry, but I'm not happy here."
"I understand." Ben whispered. "Do what you need to do."
"I'm gonna go pack. I don't have much stuff, so John and I should be out of here soon." Amy explained.
Ben nodded. "I'll help you pack."
Amy threw her duffle bag into the trunk of her car and slammed it shut. She walked back up the driveway and took the sleeping John from Ben's arms. "Thanks for everything, Ben." she said faintly.
"Yeah." he said quietly.
"We'll keep in touch, okay?" she asked hopefully.
Ben nodded simply.
"Alright, then." she said before turning back to her car. She strapped John in his booster seat before settling herself in the driver's seat. She looked at herself in the rearview mirror, trying her best to smile. "Here's to a new, independent life." She fired up the ignition and pulled out of the driveway.
"Mommy?" John asked groggily, rubbing his sleepy eyes. "Why did we leave?"
Amy looked at her son through the rearview mirror. "That life wasn't for us, John. There are other places where we'd be better off."
"Where are we going?" he asked.
She smiled softly at him. "You'll see. Just go back to sleep, it's late." She returned her attention to the road and sighed heavily. Leaving Ben wasn't easy, but then again, nothing was. As she turned a familiar corner, her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She had driven on this street many times before, and its familiarities seemed almost sentimental to her. She quietly pulled into the driveway of a once good friend and nervously unbuckled her seatbelt. She cut off the engine and stepped out of the car. She unbuckled John out of his booster seat and carefully picked him up. Her bags were the last thing on her mind as she shut the door and walked straight to the front door of the house. With a shaking finger, she lightly pressed the doorbell. A few seconds later, she heard footsteps shuffling and hurrying down the stairs. The door swung open, revealing a man, and the shocked expression on his face.
"Amy?" he asked in surprise.
Amy smiled at him and took in his features. He was taller now. A good three inches taller than the last time she had seen him. His figure was more built than ever, and his arms were nicely toned. His dark chocolate eyes seemed even deeper than before. She bit her lip nervously. "Ricky, we need to talk."