Page 9 of Love Beyond Repair
“Are you leaving me?” Ben whispered.
My hands shook uncontrollably as tears ran down my cheeks. I moved my head from side to side. The word refusing to pass my lips.
“Is it true, Kels? Have you been sleeping with him?”
My heart broke as I nodded, knowing that I couldn’t deny it, even though I wanted to. The betrayal, my betrayal, had been thrown into the light, whether I wanted to admit it or not. If I wanted to hold on to what we had, I needed to own up.
“Do you love him?” he asked, his voice breaking.
This conversation clearly hurt him. I could hear it. Still unable to speak, I shook my head. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor, determined not to look him in the eye and see what my actions had done to him. That afternoon, I was filled with shame, embarrassment, disbelief, and anger at being caught. But how did I think this was going to end? Sneaking around, lying, having two men at my beck and call when it suited me.
Was I going to lose them both? The thought was soul-destroying. Then Ben shocked me. He pinched the paper from my hands and ripped it up, throwing it in the trash can beside us.
“Let’s talk. How can we fix this?” he asked, and just like that, the danger passed. We talked, he listened, and we moved on, creating the world we wanted, exactly the way we said we would. Even after my open betrayal, Ben stood by me. He always did, time and time again.
I’ve always thought Ben carried a savior’s burden. Since we were kids, he’s been the one to patch wounds and sweep up the smashed glass. Our relationship is no different.Over the years, I’ve pushed and prodded, testing the boundaries of what we had. Not to the point of breaking us, but enough to shake us.
Every time, he’s wrapped his arms around me and pulled us through.
Melissa places my bowl of cereal down, reminding me where I am. Ben’s sitting across the table in deep discussion with Eamon. Our friends know none of this. They believe our perfect-family lie. Well, I think they do.
But now, I suspect Bex has reared her head once more after seeing her with Ben on Saturday night. They looked so comfortable, chatting and dancing. Laughing at one another’s jokes, sipping drinks, and flashing smiles. I always knew she was his deepest regret, that he chose me for what some may believe are the wrong reasons. I would disagree; his loyalty has always been with me, no matter how hard she made his heart beat.
But we’re still married. We still sleep under the same roof. He might call it a separation, but to me, we’re just in a bad patch—and now he’s crawling back to her. This past week has made me wonder if our marriage is salvageable. If what’s worked in the past to keep him in line will work again.
This time, will the promise of a baby and a white picket fence be enough? Or will I need to raise the stakes again?
I always do, in the end.
The win is always mine.
Chapter five
Bex
It’s mid-afternoon, I think, and I’m on to the next bottle of wine while lying on the sofa, watching a celebrity dating show. How pathetic are these people’s lives that they need to date on TV to make money? My mind turns the negative thoughts over as I recognize I’m just as pathetic—lying here, watching them all, because I got caught kissing a married man.
Shame seeps into every bone like it has every time I’ve faced reality. I’ll never get over this. Maybe it would be better if I weren’t here at all; if I disappeared and didn’t come back. It would save both myself and those I’m closest to the shame of explaining why, in my mid-thirties, I’m unemployed and alone.
The sound of a knock on my door comes as a surprise. I stagger over, attempting to spy through the peephole. Closing one eye, I try to focus through the hole with the other. My balance is off; I stabilize myself by leaning on the door with my forehead.
Max is standing on the other side. His hands stuffed in the pockets of his casual jeans. Is it that time already? Has school finished for the day?
I swing it open, but not before plastering on a huge smile.
“Max, I take it you’re here to check up on the new lady of leisure? You’re finished work early.” His face drops as he takes in my appearance. “What’s wrong?” I snap viciously. It’s what he doesn’t say that stings; his look is enough to tell me what he’s facing isn’t good. “Not like what you see?”
He ignores my outburst and walks past me, leading me back into the apartment after I close the door quietly behind us. His shoulders straighten before he speaks, his chin rising as if ready to argue should it be required.
“Bex, I’m really worried about you.” Concern is clearly expressed in his simple statement. His brows furrow with worry. Before he can continue his little speech, I cut him off.
“Stop! Just stop! Some friend you are, letting me walk into the lion’s den yesterday. To be shamed by my boss for a drunken Saturday night. For all I know, you couldhave been the bastard who sent the fucking photo in.” He tenses, but on a roll, I continue. “We both know you’re a jealous bastard, Max. You hate the fact I love Ben and not you. You hate what we have together.” Anger and rage drip from my words.
I storm around my apartment, not knowing where to look. And wanting to look anywhere but at him. Then I see it, a small glass I had my morning orange juice in, inscribed withWorld’s Best Teacher. I pick it up and hurl it at the wall. It smashes into a thousand pieces. The shards scatter across the floor like my heart has so many times before.
Max looks at me with so much pity; I feel it like a punch to the gut. He walks over and puts his hands on my shoulders. The sadness on his face is unfamiliar. Max is usually so carefree. I hate it. He’s worried. I can see that. And it stings that my actions are causing it, but I can’t seem to stop. I’m spiraling like I have so many times before. Falling into old habits like they’re good for me, knowing all the time they aren’t.
“Bex, I love you. I hate this downward curve you’re determined to take. We’ve been friends for a long time, and I can’t watch you self-destruct.” He pins me with a look. “Ben isn’t yours. Heneverhas been.”
