My attempt not to stare around like a country bumpkin is only partly successful as Ben leads me through the house.

Just past the entryway is a gorgeous living space. The floor plan is open with tall ceilings, and the furniture somehow appears both expensive and comfortable. The kitchen is magnificent with large stretches of white marble countertops.

I sigh at the thought of my cramped apartment’s kitchen where it’s almost impossible for two people to stand at one time. How much easier my Sunday meal prep would be if I had space to turn around.

I do like my apartment. But, with both my roommate, Terra, and me living there, it can sometimes get claustrophobic.

“How many people live here?” My question echoes around the magnificent room.

I wonder if Ben has ever hosted a karaoke party here. The acoustics are fantastic. I could go to town on some Kelly Clarkson in this place. Or bust out some P!nk. I can just imagine standing in front of that giant fireplace with a mic in my hand, going full diva.

And the crowd goes wild!

“Just my mom and dad.” Ben’s answer brings me back to reality.

“Not you?”

“Nope. I rent a place closer to campus with Jasper and our friend Sammy.”

Ben heads up another flight of stairs, and I follow, leaving my stadium behind.

We pass some bedrooms before I spot a familiar setup. Beside a large leather recliner is a hemodialysis machine. Even though I understand the mechanics, I still think the thing looks like it belongs in a sci-fi movie with all its buttons and tubes and knobs.

“So, you hook yourself up and everything?” I let my bag drop with a heavy thud in the far corner where it can’t get in anyone’s way.

Ben doesn’t meet my eyes. “Yeah. I went through the training and all that. I tried out the centers for a while, but trying to get a good appointment time was crazy hard. Then, if I needed to shift one … it just wasn’t working.”

He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck again. I have to admit, the pose does wonderful things for his biceps, but I think it’s his go-to nervous tic.

“My parents installed this here, so I can make my own schedule. And I can have it done more often. So, there’s less buildup.” He still won’t look at me.

I realize he’s embarrassed. Talking to a stranger about his fluid buildup probably doesn’t top his list for fun times.

“That’s good you’ve found what works for you. Why’s it here though? Instead of your place?”

Ben shrugs again. “More space here. And I just … I don’t want the guys to see. To see me like this.” He gestures at the machine.

My heart aches. Marcus felt that way, too. He never wanted Pops to go to the treatments with him. Didn’t want me to either, but he was never able to stop me from tagging along.