The Breaking Point (Infidelity #2)

Chapter 1

Applause fills the room as Aiden and I cut the cake.

His mother Mary raises her glass from beside him.

“Who knew this marriage would last ten years,” she says loudly.

Everyone chuckles awkwardly because they know it is not in jest. My best friend Quinn lifts her glass and toasts, “To the happy couple.” The room bursts into cheers and clapping. I offer Quinn a small smile.

We are gathered in the banquet hall of the Hotel Ashburn in Houston, reserved for Aiden’s and my ten-year wedding anniversary. The truth is, we’ve been together longer than that. After all, we have a sixteen-year-old son to prove it, but those are just details.

My husband of a decade presses his lips to mine, smearing a bit of frosting because I warned him what would happen if he ruined my makeup. The man may be reckless but he’s not suicidal. He calls over our boys, and we take turns feeding them cake.

Jackson, sixteen, went through a moody phase not long ago until his little brother Alex turned fifteen.

Then, the title of “moody” passed over to Alex and Jackson decided to change his tune.

I worried he was missing out on his childhood, but according to Jackson, when Alex started talking back to me, Jackson saw how stupid that looked and made up his mind he did not want to be that person.

The hall is filled with our family and friends, some of whom we have not seen since our wedding day ten years ago.

Aiden and I make our way to our high school guidance counsellor, Ms. Linda.

Yes, we invited her. She is the reason neither of us gave up on college after we found out I was pregnant just a week before graduation.

That was terrifying. We live in Texas, so there were not many options, but I doubt I would have taken them anyway.

I had fallen in love with my baby before I even told Aiden, ready to face whatever came alone.

Aiden had been accepted to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology on a full scholarship.

I even told him to go without me, but he refused.

‘We made it together, and we would figure it out together.’ That was a very mature decision for an eighteen-year-old.

Ms. Linda was the one who convinced him not to quit and helped him apply for late scholarships to the University of Texas at Austin.

It was still hours away from where we lived, but we made it work.

“Hard to believe it has been so long,” Ms. Linda says with a warm smile. “You two have come a long way. I am proud of you both.”

Aiden nods. “We could not have done it without you.”

I add, “Honestly, you saved us from making a huge mistake. I don’t know where we would be without your encouragement.”

She shrugs modestly. “Just doing my job. But it is wonderful to see how well you have built your life.”

We trade a few quick stories about the boys, how Jackson’s almost too tall for his own clothes and how Alex keeps surprising us with his stubborn streak.

We slip through the crowd, the hum of voices folding around us.

I catch sight of my parents by the buffet, arms folded, watching the chaos with faint smiles.

They didn’t show up much when I was growing up, but now, they’re all in, babysitting the boys after school, giving me the chance to build my career.

I want to say it’s enough to make up for leaving me at Grandma’s while they chased their dreams, but it’s not.

Still, it’s something. My older siblings drift past, no kids, no hurry.

They’re both more than a decade older than me.

Aiden’s an only child, and that explains why his mom still hovers like a storm cloud.

We fought over it early on. She pushed; we pushed back.

Aiden finally drew the line, clear and unshakeable.

That kept the peace. Then she met her new husband, someone she actually chose.

I made that happen. Now she lives an hour away, close enough to see the boys, not so close that it happens every day.

My boss bailed, but his other executive assistant is here.

There’s something about his British accent that makes every word sound posh and dignified, as if he’s narrating a royal ceremony instead of showing up to a party.

I don’t like him. Had to invite him out of pure courtesy, never expecting he’d actually show up, and certainly not with some woman draped over his arm who looks like she charges by the hour.

Aiden wanders off to the bar, joining his college buddies as they toss back shots like it’s a competition. Just then, Grant picks the perfect moment to stroll over with Ms. World hanging off his arm.

“Hey, Kate,” he says, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.

I nod, keeping it casual. “Hello, Grant. Thanks for coming. And bringing... a friend.”

His grin sharpens. “Some of us prefer playing the field rather than settling for the first person who sees us naked.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Well, the field turns into jail bait once you hit midlife.”

“You're looking beautiful, Kate.”

“Thanks,” I say, not bothering to hide my irritation.

Grant smirks. “You’d look even better without that prissy look on your face.”

Motherfucker. I’m this close to hitting him.

“There she is,” he says with a grin. “You shouldn’t hide her.” Then he strolls away like he owns the place.

I scan the room, trying to pull my mask back on when Quinn slips her arm through mine. “So that was Grant,” she says.

“Yeah. The tall one, not the one with her boobs practically falling out,” I reply.

Quinn chuckles, shooting me a look, but before she can say what she’s thinking, Aiden calls me over.

Great. His college buddies do not like me.

They’ve always blamed me for making him come home every weekend to spend time with his kid instead of partying like the rest of them.

Hello! He was in that bathroom stall with me.

I don’t tell people but our eldest was conceived in a bathroom stall at our school.

That’s what happens when you have a retired army nurse for a grandmother and a helicopter mom.

Quinn tugs on my arm, “Stop cringing and go over there before it gets weird.”

“Come with me?” I beg

“What, no. I'm not coming with you.” She says, trying to step away.

“Yeah. You’re coming with me.” I grab Quinn’s hand and clamp our fingers together like a trap. She tries to yank free, but I hold on tighter.

She narrows her eyes, mutters “Bitch” under her breath, but doesn’t fight me too hard. Not here. Not in public.

Fine. I’ll take it. Better her fury than facing Aiden’s college friends alone, thirty-year-old boys still pretending the frat never ended.

As we close in, the calls start.

“Hey, Mrs. Bennet!”

It’s not respect. Never was. They’ve been calling me that since I was just his baby mama.

It used to sting. Still does, in a different way.

They and Mary could’ve co-chaired a committee on passive-aggressive jabs.

Every time they opened their mouths, it was a reminder: two kids, and I was still just the girlfriend.

Pretty sure Aiden proposed just to shut them up. Explains the four-year engagement.

“Hey, guys. Thanks for coming.” The words taste like dust.

Eli, the drunkest of them all hoists his glass, eyes glassy. “How could we miss the anniversary of the day our boy chained himself to you forever?”

He laughs, loud and sloppy, like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. Like I’m not standing right here.

I feel Aiden tense beside me. His arm slips around my waist, protective. Or maybe just redirecting. “Alright, guys,” he says lightly. “Let’s not enjoy the open bar too much.”

He guides me away, but the sour taste lingers.

“I don’t understand how you’re still friends with them,” I murmur, low so only he hears.

“I know you don’t like them,” he says, same tone, same script. “But they were there for me. When I felt alone. After I left you and Jack.”

It’s always that line. And I always have mine ready. But I don’t get to say it.

Quinn appears out of nowhere. “Thanks for abandoning me back there,” she says, all sass and mock betrayal.

I mouth sorry , grateful for the save. Even if I dragged her here against her will.

“We should head back for the photos,” Aiden says, checking his watch.

I nod. “I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick. You go. Help them set up.” I say, putting my palm out for the pouch I had Aiden put in his pocket before we left the house.

He smirks, handing it to me. “You really want me to set up the photos?”

I turn to Quinn, “Why don’t you help him?”

They head off, Quinn already teasing him about taking terrible pictures. I duck into the bathroom, grateful for the breather.

Inside, I take a minute. Actually pee. Wash my hands. Then lean in toward the mirror, tilting my face in the light. I swipe a touch of concealer under my eyes. Reapply my lipstick. Nothing too bold, just enough to erase the exhaustion.

My reflection stares back. Thirty-four. No time for the gym between work and the boys and the marriage I keep trying to make time for.

But I’m not unhealthy. Just soft in places I used to be tighter.

The floor-length silver gown hugs me like it was made to.

It drapes just right over my hips, pulls in at my waist. The open back lets the cool air kiss my skin, and the dress clings where I still carry confidence.

The heels add a few inches, pulling me just a little closer to Aiden’s six-foot frame.

My dark hair’s loose tonight, styled but soft, cascading down my back in waves that brush my skin every time I move.

A little effort, a little magic. Not bad for someone who applied eyeliner while making sure Alex didn’t microwave metal again.

I look good. I feel good.

Opening the bathroom door, I step out while zipping up the pouch. And walk straight into Eli.

“Whoa,” he says, steadying me with one hand on my elbow. “Didn’t mean to bodycheck you, Mrs. Bennet.”

I step back, smile tight. “Kate works just fine.”

He grins, bleary-eyed. “Sure does. Damn, you clean up nice.”

I cross my arms. “You’re drunk.”

He laughs. “A little. You know, we all thought Aiden was nuts. Tying himself down with babies and a girlfriend while we were still getting wasted on rooftops. But seeing you now…” He lets his eyes drift down, slow. “I kinda get it.”

I don’t answer. Just stare.

“Relax,” he says, holding up both hands like that makes it okay. “I’m just saying, he’s a lucky guy.”

I shift my weight to one hip, spine straightening. “Go back to your friends, Eli.”

He opens his mouth like he's got one more stupid thing locked and loaded, but something in my face makes him think better of it. He gives a sloppy salute, pivots to stumble off. Then stops and turns to drop a bomb on my life.

“I just wish he knew how lucky he was. Back at his bachelor party.”

My stomach tightens. I blink at him, confused.

He smirks; eyes glassy. “I mean... sure, we goaded him. We always do. But no one actually thought he’d take the dare. We just, y’know, ran our mouths. Said he wouldn't do it. Then he disappeared into the back with the stripper.”

My heart doesn’t drop. It slams. Right into my shoes.

He doesn’t notice. Or he does and doesn’t care. Just shrugs. “Didn’t think he had it in him, honestly. Guess he did.”

And just like that, I stop feeling good. The gown’s still perfect. The heels still give me those extra inches. My makeup’s fresh. But everything else?

It crumbles at my feet.