# CHAPTER 31: OVER MY DEAD BODY
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review CHAPTER 31 of "Just for the Plot"—and oh my goodness, if you thought the last chapter was emotionally charged, just wait. This one is a gut punch. A rollercoaster. A "hold your breath and pray" kind of chapter that starts in chaos, burns through wounds, and leaves our hero at his absolute lowest point, clutching the ruins of everything he thought he had.
Let's dive in, my friends—because Bennett is about to discover that going on a ten-day away trip might have just cost him the one thing he never knew he couldn't live without.
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Bennett's legs barely carried him out of that locker room. The celebration, the noise, the sheer energy of his teammates after practice—it all felt suffocating. He needed air. He needed silence. He needed to understand what the hell was happening when only hours ago, he'd been making real, tangible progress with Bower. So he slipped away, like a man fleeing a burning building, and found a quiet corner of the home team's stadium. He leaned against the cold concrete wall, then slid down to the floor, dragging his hands through his hair like he could physically claw out the confusion knotted in his brain.
What the hell happened between last night and right now?
The only person who might actually give him answers—besides Bower herself, who clearly didn't want to talk—was Maple. She'd seen her today. She'd delivered the cookies. She'd witnessed whatever had gone sideways. So Bennett, desperate for any scrap of clarity, sent a text to the group thread.
"OC, I'm going to have to ask you to please not be dramatic right now. I can't fucking take it, please. Maple, I need to know what happened when you delivered the cookies, because Bower is pretty much detaching from me right now."
Silence. Then the buzz of OC's response, as always the first to type: "What do you mean?"
"She thanked me for the cookies and then she just blew me off. Didn't want to talk, said we could talk later. I don't understand."
OC's reply hit back fast, laced with that particular distraught regret: "Fuck, that's not how we wanted things to go."
Then Graydon's calm voice cut through: "Hold on, Maple is finishing up some supplements for the flamingos and then will respond. But she did say she learned some things that could be helpful... possibly hurtful."
Bennett cursed, the word sharp as broken glass in the empty corridor. *Flamingos. Supplements.* Of course. Right now, of all times, Maple had to be playing zoo caretaker. But then his phone buzzed again, and there she was—Maple, thank fucking God—typing fast:
"First of all, she's so sweet and kind. We exchanged information so we can meet up once in a while, as we both thought we needed to make more friends. I want to be honest about that, because moving forward, if she's trusting me as a friend, I don't want to give away her secrets."
OC chimed in, half-admiring: "An honest woman."
*Yeah, but not fucking ideal for me,* Bennett thought bitterly. Still, Maple continued, and each word felt like a knife turning in his gut:
"I will say this. She's really torn. She really likes you, Bennett, more than she said she should, but your sister is getting in the way of those feelings. And Cougar, well, she has grown to know him better throughout the weeks that they've hung out and she said recently he's been really helpful and she's seen a different side of him."
Graydon, ever the voice of reason: "Their relationship is platonic."
"Which means she's getting to know him on a different level and vice versa. She finds him funny at times, and he's starting to let his guard down and show his true self, which is what she likes. But when she's with you, it's different. There's comfort there, like that's where she belongs. She's very conflicted."
Bennett tugged at his hair, his mind spinning like a cyclone. *What would have happened if I never actually set her up with Cougar? Did I really fuck this up for myself? Am I the fucking reason why I'll never truly have a shot with her?* The thought carved a raw, aching hole in his chest.
OC asked the burning question: "But did it seem like there was a chance for Bennett?"
Maple's reply was achingly honest: "It did, but I could see her pulling away. I could see her sparing him from the disruption everything would cause. I don't know how helpful this is, Bennett, but I know there are feelings there for you. It just depends on if she will allow herself to feel them or not."
*Feelings.* There were feelings. But she might never let herself have them. Bennett could feel his world tilting on its axis, refusing to steady itself.
OC, fierce and determined: "How do we get her to feel them?"
Graydon's advice struck Bennett like a lightning bolt: "I think he pushes for it. I don't think he lets up, because when I was pushing Maple away, that's what she did. She hung on, knowing there was a future there. Bennett, you need to do the same."
Maple agreed: "I think you fight. If you really like her, and I know she likes you, then you need to make her understand that you both can work through her fears."
OC, in that sweet enforcer tone: "Agreed. I don't think this is over. I think this is just the beginning and how you handle this moving forward will set the tone for your relationship. Fight, man. Fucking fight."
Bennett let out a deep breath and rested the back of his head against the wall, letting the words sink in like cold water on a raging fever. They were right. If he wanted her, he needed to fight. He needed to show her, prove to her, that he was the one. And the minute he got back from this godforsaken away trip, that was *exactly* what he planned on doing.
So he did the only thing he could do in that moment. He called her.
The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Then came her voicemail, that soft, familiar voice, and Bennett's throat tightened as he left his message: "Hey, Bower, it's me. Wanted to give you a call after my game, see how you were. Our texts earlier left me worried, so I'm just checking in. Give me a call when you can. See you soon."
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Morning came too fast. Bennett jumped off the treadmill after warming up his legs, desperate to burn off nervous energy. Last night they'd lost. He'd played like absolute shit, and here they were, right on the edge of the playoffs, tied for the wild card spot, barely hanging on by a thread. It would've been incredible to make it—the team had been through so much—but they were still disconnected, sloppy, making mistakes that had no business being made.
He checked his phone. Nothing from Bower. No text. No call. No sign of life. His stomach twisted. She was avoiding him—he knew it—because she would have at least texted by now. But he kept pushing forward, exactly like Graydon had said. So he called her again.
It rang. And rang. And rang. And just when he was about to hear that voicemail again, she answered.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Bower," he said, suddenly feeling awkward, like a kid in high school trying to talk to a girl he was terrified of losing.
"Hey, uh... how are you?"
"Doing better now. Just wanted to call and see how you're doing."
"Fine," she said. But her voice was off. Not her normal, bubbly self.
"You don't sound fine."
Silence. Then a sniffle. And Bennett's heart nearly ripped out of his chest. He stopped dead in the hallway, panic rising like ice water up his spine. "Bower," he said, his voice cracking with fear. "What's going on?"
"It's nothing, I'm sorry, I'm just... fuck, I need to go."
"No, don't fucking hang up, Bower. I'm not kidding. Tell me what's going on."
"Bennett, I can't... I can't do this and I'm sorry. I know... I know you have feelings for me, but it's just so complicated and I don't want you to get hurt—"
"Then what the hell are you doing? You're seriously going to tell me this over the phone?" Each word burned like acid in his mouth. *Over the phone.* After everything they'd shared, she was going to end this over the phone?
"Because you come home tonight and I don't... I don't want you to... to..."
"To what?"
"To think that, that there's something between us."
"But there is, and you'd be lying to my fucking face if you told me otherwise." His voice was steel wrapped in desperation.
"I know, but I think we just need to have some... some distance, okay? That's why I answered the phone, to tell you that we shouldn't, umm... we shouldn't—"
"Say it to me without crying, Bower. Tell me to leave you alone without crying."
She sniffled. Took a breath. Then he heard her crying again, broken and beautiful and devastating all at once.
"You can't. You can't fucking say it, because you don't want to say it."
"Bennett, please."
"It's not over, Bower. I don't know what has happened in the last twenty-four hours, but I'm not going to let you just push me away when I know you don't want to."
"Please don't make this harder. I just... I just need space. Okay?"
"No."
"Bennett..." She started crying harder, and the sound ripped him in half. He hated hearing her like this. He'd put that pain in her voice, and it was carving him alive. But he'd be damned—*absolutely damned*—if he let her choose this future for them.
"It's not over, Bower. Not even close. And I will not allow you to push me away without looking me in the eyes and doing it. You owe me more than that."
"I... I can't do this." And then the line went dead.
Disappointment flooded through his veins like poison. He stared down at his phone—at the picture of the two of them, locked as his wallpaper, her smile frozen in pixels—and his grip tightened around the device until his knuckles turned white.
*This is not fucking over.*
Over his dead body would he allow her to end them, especially without a solid explanation.
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Bennett headed back toward the locker room, still reeling, just as his phone buzzed in his hand. His heart lurched. *Bower.* It had to be her, calling back to say she'd made a mistake. Hope spiraled through him like a desperate prayer—but when he looked at the screen, it was Gabby.
He sighed, leaning against the tunnel wall as he answered. "Hey, Gabs."
"Oh my goodness, as he lives and breathes. I didn't think you still talked to your big sister anymore."
"Sorry, things have been crazy." He pushed his hand through his hair, his mind still screaming about Bower, about the phone call, about the sound of her crying.
"I know. Playoff run is hard. But you're almost there."
"Yeah, pretty close. We have to win this afternoon," he said automatically, voice hollow.
"You will. Although, what happened last night? Not to make you feel bad or anything, but yikes, brother."
"Not my best showing. Put in some extra work this morning, though. Warmed up my legs and about to hit the cages to focus on some extension in my swing."
"Smart. You always put in the work. It will pay off. Ryland also said you're slicing a little—pulling your shoulder out before you should. Keep it tight."
"Tell him thank you. I'll work on that in the cages."
"I know you will. By the way, I was in San Francisco yesterday. It's a shame you're on a long away trip. I could have stolen you away for a second."
"Wait, you were?" A spark of hope flickered—or was it dread? "Did you see Bower?"
"I did. We had lunch at a sandwich shop around the corner from your apartment building. The soup was so freaking good, and Bower caught me up on everything she's doing. Her book truck and how she put in an order for it, and the name—ugh, so cute. Oh, and she showed me the logo that Cougar helped her with."
*What.*
A spike of anger shot up Bennett's spine. Cougar. That name again. The *logo.* The book truck. All these things she'd apparently done—all these milestones she'd reached—and she hadn't said a goddamn word to him.
"Cougar helped her?" Bennett asked, trying and failing to keep his jaw unclenched.
"Yeah, he helped her pick out the truck and offered suggestions for the logo. Seems like they're getting along nicely. It's good to see her find someone. I know she's been looking to be in a relationship for a bit, and Cougar, he's a good one. It's so sweet that you set her up."
Bennett's tongue glided over his teeth as he fought desperately not to break a blood vessel. "Yeah, didn't, uh, didn't know things were getting serious for her."
"Well, from what she told me, they're taking it slow, but I think that's how the best relationships form—well, besides me and Ryland, but we are the exception. Anyway, I asked her if she was going to bring the book truck out to Almond Bay, and she said she was considering it. She might move. Isn't that amazing?"
*Move?*
Consider him fucking blindsided, because what the actual hell was happening? He leaves for ten days—*ten goddamn days*—and suddenly his entire life has exploded in front of his face.
"Bennett?"
"Yeah, sorry, uh, one of the guys was asking me something. That's, uh, that's great. Hey, I hate to cut this short, but I think it's my turn in the cages."
"Yeah, of course. Just glad to hear your voice. Maybe next time I'll catch you in San Francisco."
"Totally. Love you, Gabby."
"Love you too. Kill it today."
"I will."
Then they hung up, and for the second time in ten minutes, Bennett slid down the wall of the tunnel until he was sitting on the cold ground, his world crumbling around him with no way to stop the collapse.
*Bower crying. Bower asking for space. Bower and Cougar getting closer. Bower possibly moving away.*
He just needed to get home. He needed to see her. He needed to fix all of this.
But for now, all he could do was sit in the shadows of the stadium tunnel, gripping his phone like a lifeline, and wonder if he'd already lost her forever.
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**READER'S IMPRESSIONS & STAR RATING:**
Oh, this chapter shattered me. Watching Bennett spiral from hope to confusion to outright desperation was *agonizing*—but in the best possible way. The group chat scene is pure gold: the support system he has in OC, Graydon, and Maple is so real, so warm, and you can feel the love radiating from every message. Maple's honesty is refreshing, though it cuts deep. And that phone call with Bower? Absolutely gut-wrenching. You can hear her tears, you can feel his panic, and you're begging her to just say the words she's too afraid to say—but she can't, because she loves him too much to hurt him, and she's too scared to choose herself. And then Gabby's call drops the bomb about Cougar and the book truck—and *moving*—and I honestly felt like I'd been sucker-punched right alongside Bennett. This chapter is raw, heartbreaking, and sets up an emotional collision that I cannot wait to witness.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.9 / 5 Stars
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**NEXT CHAPTER PREDICTION:**
Bennett is coming home tonight, and he made it crystal clear he will not let Bower push him away without looking him in the eyes. I predict the next chapter will bring the ultimate confrontation—an emotional, tear-filled, explosive face-to-face where Bennett finally demands the truth, and Bower has to choose between her fears and the love she's been trying to bury. Cougar is going to be a looming presence, and I suspect Bennett might finally lose his cool entirely. Will there be a grand gesture? A whispered confession? A kiss that changes everything? Something tells me the walls Bower has built are about to crumble—but not without a fight.
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