Chapter 45: The Jealousy Problem
Two weeks into Fiona's job, Ben had heard Robbie's name forty-seven times.
He wasn't counting deliberately—his MacGyver Mind just tracked it automatically. Forty-seven mentions in fourteen days. "Robbie said this funny thing." "Robbie's climbing Kilimanjaro next month." "Robbie brought cupcakes for everyone's birthday."
Ben was developing a complex relationship with a man he'd never met.
"You're being weird," V said at the Alibi on Saturday afternoon.
"I'm not being weird."
"You made a face when Fiona mentioned Robbie's name. A specific face." V demonstrated—jaw tight, eyes cold. "Jealousy face. Very attractive, by the way. Women love that."
Ben drank his beer instead of responding. They were at the bar while Fiona worked and Kevin handled afternoon customers. The place smelled like stale beer and fried food.
"Look," V continued, "I get it. New guy, charming and exciting, Fiona talks about him constantly. But she's engaged to you. She's planning your wedding. She comes home to you every night."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you're acting like she's one conversation away from running off with rich boy." V flagged Kevin for another drink. "Trust is kind of essential for marriage. Maybe start practicing now."
"It's not about trust."
"Then what's it about?"
My danger intuition shows Robbie bringing cocaine. Shows Liam in the hospital. Shows Fiona in handcuffs. Shows everything we've built destroyed by this charming reckless asshole who represents chaos and excitement and everything Fiona used to love before she chose me.
"Bad feelings," Ben said. "Something about him triggers my instincts wrong."
"Your 'lucky' instincts?" V made air quotes. "Ben, you can't live your life based on vibes. Fiona's a grown woman with excellent judgment—usually—and she loves you. Let her have a friend at work without making it a thing."
"He's not just a friend."
"He's her boss's brother. He's practically a coworker. And even if she is attracted—which I'm not saying she is—attraction doesn't mean action." V's expression softened. "Fiona spent ten years with Jimmy who was exciting and unpredictable and ultimately destructive. She chose you because she's done with that. Trust that choice."
Kevin delivered their drinks. Ben stared at his glass, watching condensation form patterns on aged wood.
"What if my instincts are right? What if he's actually dangerous?"
"Then protect her from actual danger, not from having conversations with charming people." V touched his hand. "You can't smother her, Ben. The fastest way to push Fiona away is to act like you don't trust her judgment."
He knew she was right. Intellectually, logically, his MacGyver Mind confirmed V's assessment. But his Danger Intuition screamed different information—threat levels, probability calculations, disaster timelines.
How do you balance trusting someone you love with knowing danger they can't see?
That night, Ben called Lip.
"I'm losing my mind over Robbie," he admitted. "Tell me I'm being irrational."
"You're being irrational," Lip said immediately. Then: "But also your instincts are usually right, so probably both things are true."
Ben laughed despite himself. "That's not helpful."
"What do you want me to say? That you should forbid Fiona from working there? Install a tracker on her phone? Use your weird persuasion thing to make her hate Robbie?" Lip's voice carried over a college party happening in his background. "Or maybe trust that your fiancée knows what she wants and who she loves?"
"The danger is real."
"Maybe. But is the danger 'Robbie himself' or 'circumstances involving Robbie'? Because those are different problems with different solutions." Background noise faded—Lip had moved somewhere quieter. "Look, you can't prevent Fiona from being attracted to someone. Attraction happens. What matters is what people do with attraction."
"She talks about him constantly."
"She probably doesn't realize she's doing it. New job, new people, excitement is normal." Lip paused. "Has she done anything actually inappropriate?"
"No."
"Then trust her until she does. Meanwhile, focus on the part you can control—the cocaine threat. That's real, specific, preventable with right preparation."
Ben sat in his darkened shop, phone pressed to his ear, and processed Lip's logic.
"So I trust Fiona with Robbie. But prepare for cocaine."
"Exactly. Trust the person, prepare for circumstances. That's the balance." Voices called Lip's name in the background. "I gotta go. Party's getting stupid and I should intervene before someone breaks something expensive. But Ben? Stop making jealousy face. It's not a good look."
"V told you about the face?"
"V tells everyone everything. Welcome to the family."
Lip hung up. Ben sat alone with his thoughts and his powers and the knowledge that loving someone meant trusting them even when your supernatural danger sense screamed warnings.
Fiona found him at the shop Sunday morning.
"You've been distant," she said without preamble. "Want to talk about it?"
Ben looked up from an air filter he'd been cleaning with unnecessary intensity. "I'm fine."
"You're not." She sat on his workbench, wearing jeans and one of his hoodies that swallowed her frame. "Is this about Robbie?"
"What? No."
"Ben, I'm not an idiot. Every time I mention his name you get this look." She grabbed his face, forcing eye contact. "He's Mike's brother. He's amusing. That's it."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you're acting like I'm going to run off with him despite being engaged to you and planning our wedding." Her hands slid to his shoulders. "I talk about him because he's entertaining, not because I want him. There's a difference."
Ben's throat felt tight. "I know that too. Intellectually."
"Then what's the problem?"
I've seen the future. I know he brings disaster. I know cocaine and handcuffs and everything beautiful we're building threatened by his presence. I know you chose me but chaos still calls to part of you and Robbie embodies that chaos.
"Bad feelings," Ben said quietly. "Something about him sets off my instincts. I know it sounds paranoid—"
"It does."
"—but I can't shake it. And hearing you talk about him constantly makes those feelings worse."
Fiona was quiet for several seconds. Her hands stayed on his shoulders, grounding.
"Okay," she said finally. "I'll try to talk about him less. Not because I think your instincts are rational, but because I love you and don't want you uncomfortable."
"You don't have to change anything—"
"And you don't have to pretend you're not feeling things." She kissed him softly. "We're getting married in five months. We're going to have feelings. Jealousy, insecurity, all of it. Better to talk about it than let it fester."
Ben pulled her close, breathing in shampoo and laundry detergent and home. "I do trust you."
"I know. You're just also human and humans get jealous. It's fine." She pulled back, studying his face. "Robbie's not a threat to us. He's just some guy. Okay?"
"Okay."
But that night, alone with his preparations and his planning, Ben knew Robbie was exactly a threat—just not the kind Fiona could see.
So he'd trust her with the attraction part. And prepare obsessively for the cocaine part. Those were his two jobs: trust and preparation.
He just hoped he could do both well enough to prevent the disaster his powers showed coming.
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