Chapter Four #2
I was forced to catch a cab downtown at a quarter till seven, The pit in my stomach twisting into something ugly as I anxiously checked my phone for any kind of communication from my husband.
I hadn’t heard a peep from him since four o’clock, and my wifey senses were tingling, going off like a damn fireworks display.
The knot in my stomach grew tighter with each minute that ticked by on the cab ride there.
It was that horrible foreboding sense that tonight was going to go very, very badly.
I could feel the familiar sting of my eyes, and tickle of my nose telling me the tears were on their way, and all because of this anxiety I was feeling. I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall as I gave myself the pep talk of the century.
I am a bad bitch. I look perfect, my armor flawless. Not a curl out of place, no smudge or smear of my make-up.
I snapped my spine back into place, throwing my shoulders back, and reminding myself to hold my head high this evening. I checked my phone once more as the cab pulled up to the old manor his company rented out for the Christmas party every year.
It was one of those incredibly old homes from the 1800s, but well maintained and stunning inside with its original woodwork, including the parquet flooring.
It was three stories, with a large terrace lining the second floor, large potted plants offering some semblance of privacy if you needed some air.
It was simply stunning, something of grandeur from the past so perfectly preserved.
The cab pulled up to the front door in the loop style driveway and a valet opened my car door, holding his hand out in an offer, helping me out.
It should have been Caleb.
Shaking my head, I brushed the thought away as quickly as it came.
I looked fabulous and that was all that mattered.
We were going to have a good night after this one little snafu.
I had to give this a fair shot, even though I could feel myself pulling farther and farther away from him.
I walked in, shoulders back, head high, spine straight and graceful like I owned this place.
I was moving up the stairs that led to the second floor in hopes that I could find my husband.
Since he wasn’t at the entrance of the venue.
Not where he said he would be.
I had already smiled and nodded at a few of his coworkers who came to say hello or compliment my dress.
Once on the second floor, I was looking around when I spotted Caleb’s boss, Mr. Westwood.
The man was a billionaire and took pride in his appearance and maintaining a certain sense of decorum, which I assumed was the reason why he booked this venue every holiday.
It was always decorated to include as many natural decorations as possible.
The place smelt of pine, cinnamon, and oranges.
It was a delicious, comforting scent in the middle of a gorgeous old ballroom.
Mr. Westwood was a very private person, but I enjoyed speaking with him at the previous Christmas parties.
He was polite, observed manners and what the polite thing to do was most of the time.
He was also the most neutral office person I could mingle with, as he made it a point not to get involved in office gossip.
He didn’t like poking into others’ lives.
When I asked why he had that stance as the boss, he said that he didn’t like others poking into his life outside of work.
I steered our quiet wallflower chat elsewhere last year.
He saw me walking in, alone, and gave me a nod and a stern expression asking where Caleb was. I gave him a nod in return and kept my gaze sweeping the floor for my husband.
Then, I spotted him.
He was standing there with a tall, leggy, dirty blonde with fake tits who was draping herself all over him.
I stared at him as he didn’t try too hard to pry her claws off him.
He wasn’t exactly winning any brownie points for his efforts.
I rolled my eyes because the man was just shuffling around, thinking that if he kept moving slightly she’d somehow get the heck off him.
I moved over to one of the giant columns holding the structure up, as I waited and watched him frantically looking around in an increasingly desperate bid to find me.
I decided to wait for him to find me. For him to know that I’d seen his weak attempts to push Becky away.
This octopus with her wild tentacles had to be her.
Otherwise I had bigger problems than one woman wanting my husband.
I wanted him to know I wasn’t impressed because a kitten could have fought her off better than he was at the moment.
I mean, even a newborn’s sense of self-preservation would have kicked in already.
The baby would probably vomit on her just to get away.
When our eyes finally locked, he paled, looking near death.
He looked guilty, like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
He pushed her off once again, more firmly this time, and stepped away from the succubus, finally making his way to me.
The leggy Becky followed him as he walked away from her until her eyes landed on me.
I could see the moment it registered that I was his wife.
I could feel the hate and anger coming off of her as her gaze bore into me.
She was sizing me up, trying to make me feel small. But I didn’t.
I wasn’t the homewrecker here.
She was furious while I beamed at him, making it seem as though everything was a-okay and hunky-dory in our own little world.
I registered the moment it sunk in as I kissed his cheek as he hugged me, leaving the lipstick stain on his cheek.
Marking him tonight as mine. I saw when it clicked that he was choosing me over her.
That he was staying with me, being faithful to me.
Even though, in my heart, his weak attempts at getting her off of him pointed to something more broken in our marriage than I had initially thought. I just didn’t know if or how we could fix it. His smile was stiff, strained as he kissed my cheek.
“I am so sorry. She’s been insufferable and obnoxious like that since that phone call I made.
” He grabbed my hand and spun me around so we could talk with some other people from one of the other departments he worked closely with.
I knew the call he meant, but he still hadn’t mentioned texting her.
I locked my smile in place as we engaged in conversations with others, being as polite and put-together as I could be under the circumstances.
Cocktail hour was almost over and we were being asked to find our seats soon so dinner could commence.
Caleb went to the bar to get us new drinks before they closed for dinner.
I sat through two speeches before I realized he wasn’t back yet.
As I was turning to search the bar area from my seat, ready to go find him if needed, he came out of nowhere.
He sat down next to me with a smile and a kiss on my cheek.
He set my drink in front of me, loosely draping his arm on the back of my chair.
“Sorry, honey,” he said, his cheeks had a red tint to them, his hair slightly messy. I looked at the drink in front of me, then back at my husband. He took a long pull from his whiskey glass, focused on the speaker.
This will be my first and last drink for the night.
My intuition and gut were screaming at me that something was going on.
Whatever it was, I needed to be sober for it.
Especially if I needed whatever was going to happen to be able to hold up in court.
I sipped my cocktail, trying not to make it too obvious that I was on high alert and suspicious of Caleb.
Something was different.