Page 3 of Knot Really Engaged
“So, you do know Ben?” she asks, an edge of tension in her voice that immediately puts me on alert. I feel my muscles tense, my heart rate quickening.
Confused and suddenly wary, I answer, “Yes. He’s my boyfriend.” I narrow my eyes, scanning her face for any hint of deception. “Is there a problem? Is there something wrong with him?” My heart starts pounding, a sense of dread settling in the pit of my stomach. “Our flight is leaving soon. Unless something happened and . . . Oh, God. Please tell me he’s okay.”
The woman’s face tightens, her eyes sharpening as if bracing for a fight. “I’m Ben’s wife.” Her words hit me like a blast of arctic air, chilling me to the bone.
The world tilts a little at her confession. “His . . . his wife?” I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, the air rushing out of my lungs.
He’s not married. I would’ve seen the signs, right?
“Ben. Benjamin Starling is not married,” I clarify,shaking my head in disbelief. Maybe she has the wrong guy. There are thousands and thousands of men named Ben in this world.
The concept of Ben, my Ben, being married is not feasible. He’s not that kind of guy. At least, that’s what I thought.
“Yes. Benjamin Starling and I are. As I just mentioned, I am his wife,” she snaps. Her eyes flash with anger, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “We’ve been married for five years and have two children. Clearly, he’s made no mention of any of us to you. Seems he’s been living a double life—again.” Her anger is palpable, directed not just at the situation but at me, an unwitting participant in her life.
The other woman.
I’m having trouble breathing and struggling to process her words, to reconcile the image of the man I’ve been dating with this new reality. My mind races, trying to make sense of it all. I feel like I’m in a nightmare, desperate to wake up. “Where is he?” I manage to ask, my voice trembling.
“Home, taking care of our two children. I told him my mom had an emergency.” She grins, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “If he thought he was going on some kind of trip with his mistress, he has another thing coming. But I also had to see youwith my own eyes. You’re not as pretty as his last mistress.”
My eyebrows shoot up. My mouth falls open in shock. “Last mistress?” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You thought you were the only one?” she snickers, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. “Sweetheart, there’s always one or two. They usually catch on soon, but you?—”
I hold up my hands, my palms facing her in a gesture of surrender. “I had no clue. I didn’t know.”
She scoffs. “Obviously.”
She lifts her hand as if to pat me or slap me, but I don’t let her take a swing or whatever. I take a step back, my body tensing. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened, but you don’t have to get physical. I know Krav Maga.”
That’s a total lie, but maybe she’ll be afraid to touch me if I say that, right?
“Are you threatening me?” The volume of her voice rises, drawing the attention of everyone around us. They watch with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “My husband’s mistress is threatening me, after trying to break up my marriage and our precious family.”
“I’m not—” I start to protest, but she cuts me off.
“Stay away from us, or you’ll regret it.” Her eyes blaze with fury as she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd.
As the initial shock fades, a slow burn of anger and disbelief takes its place. The anticipation of seeing Ben morphs into dread, twisting my stomach into knots. And soon, my phone rings. It’s Ben.
“Is it true?” I ask, my voice trembling with anger as I brace myself for his answer. “You’re married?”
“I’m sorry, Audrey. I had no idea—” he begins, but I cut him off.
“That you would get caught?” I snap, my grip tightening on the phone.
“It’s not like that.” His voice is pleading, but it only fuels my anger.
“You’re married. That’s the bottom line. I . . . I have to go,” I say, ending the call before he can respond.
Tears blur my eyes, but I barely notice them. All I can feel is a white-hot anger burning through my veins and an aching hurt cracking open in my chest. My heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million pieces.
That absolute bastard.
I feel torn between anger and guilt, my mind racing with questions. How could Ben cheat on his wife like this? And what about me? Was our wholerelationship a lie? I feel used, betrayed, and utterly foolish for falling for him.
I’m remorseful for his wife. How much did she know about me? Were there many more before me? She didn’t look hurt, but angry. Still, my heart aches for her and her children. I don’t have any business of feeling sorry for myself because my perfect little bubble has burst.
