41. Forty-One
Forty-One
BEN
I sit in the Riley Trust Bank parking lot, tightening my hands around the steering wheel until my knuckles crack.
My appointment with John should’ve started five minutes ago, but I can’t exit my Jeep.
I stare at my phone, perched on my dash, hoping the screen will alight with a notification.
The text I sent to Lena twenty minutes ago, asking how she’s doing, if she needs anything, remains unanswered.
Though reason assures me that she’s doing as well as can be expected and probably busy caring for Dot and Ruthie, awaiting her response puts me in agony.
An agony that’s swollen with additional brokenness, like Lena’s hand after the accident.
Brokenness I caused, and that’s sharpened since losing Mrs. Moore.
I need to know she’s okay. Need this shred of connection to remain intact. Need her to know that I’m here.
Despite the destruction I’ve caused, I long to be with my family. Especially now.
Instead, I’m here, and late to a meeting for the first time in memory.
My phone pings. A text from Lena. We’re okay. Shopping for funeral dresses. Are you okay?
That she asks makes me tear up. I don’t deserve her concern. But that’s my wife—always prioritizing her love over her pain.
I stare up at the glass building, blurry in my tears, and my resolve solidifies. I know what I have to do. I’ve known since holding my girls to my chest as they sobbed over Mrs. Moore; a realization that came too late, but I owe them the follow-through regardless.
My first instinct is to respond that I’m fine. It’s my go-to answer. But I delete it and try again. I’m hurting for you and Ruthie. I’m here for anything you need.
She reads the message but doesn’t answer. That’s okay.
I exit my vehicle, ready for this meeting.
John Riley greets me with a beaming smile when I enter his office moments later.
Lauren sits on the leather couch, opposite Captain Tenor.
Between them, champagne chills in a silver ice bucket and crystal glasses await pouring on the coffee table.
I shouldn’t be surprised that they’ve turned my contract signing into a celebration.
“There you are!” John says. “We were starting to wonder about you Ben.”
“A whole ten minutes late,” Larry chuckles good-naturedly. “Must’ve been that Wilmington traffic. Eh?”
“No.” I approach John’s desk as he moves from behind it. “I can’t accept the position.”
My announcement is stern and clear, but John freezes, like he doesn’t understand, and he’s waiting for a punchline.
“Ben, no.” Lauren drops the paperwork she’s holding onto the coffee table. “What do you mean?”
“I apologize for letting it get this far,” I say, “but recent events have brought clarity, and this won’t work for me or my family.”
“Nonsense,” John says.
I stave off his upcoming argument with, “I appreciate the opportunity, Mr. Riley, but it’s not going to happen.”
John glares at me, hands on hips, and his eyes narrow like he’s strategizing his next move in a chess game.
“Well, Ben, that breaks my heart,” Larry says, coming over and giving me a gentle back slap. “But you know best. You’ve got to do right by your family. You take care.”
He shakes my hand before leaving.
“Ben, don’t do this. You need us.” Lauren steps closer, like she wants to reach out. Her stony eyes glisten as they water. “I thought we—”
“You thought wrong,” I insist, returning my gaze to Mr. Riley. “I’m sorry I wasted your time.”
He huffs, shaking his head. “Lauren, give us a minute.”
She rushes at his command like just another staff member, closing the office door behind her.
Mr. Riley replaces his disappointment with a knowing smile, firmly squeezing my shoulder.
“Ben, let’s sit down.You owe me that at least. I understand what’s going on.”
Respectfully, I comply, though I doubt he understands anything. Nor do I feel he’s owed. He takes the couch opposite me.
“This isn’t the time for second thoughts or cold feet.” With a deep breath, he leans forward, conspiratorially. “Lauren shared your recent home situation with me. I can’t say that I didn’t see that coming. How’s Ruthie handling the separation?”
“She’s fine,” I manage, defenses rising.
“She’s such a beautiful little girl. Jillian and Lauren couldn’t stop gushing about her after the picnic,” he smiles. “Kids are resilient. I know you wouldn’t leave Lena without strong reasons, and I hate that you’re struggling. We can help you.”
“Help me?” I repeat dumbly before assuming he means with the counseling and mental health services described in the company’s policy manual.
“Of course!” He goes to the bar and pours whiskey into two crystal tumblers. I accept the glass he hands me, but I don’t drink. “You know me, Ben. I take care of my own. Whether you take the job or not, you’re family. Lauren never stopped loving you—”
“I stopped loving her. I don’t love your daughter. This isn’t about Lauren,” I say, unease percolating beneath my rigidity like lava inside a mountain.
A disappointed twinge shadows his expression that he quickly bypasses.
“No, you’re right. It’s about you and Ruthie for now.
I want to support you in this. You’ve already accomplished the hardest part of the mission.
Leaving took courage. Now, let my lawyers handle the details.
They’re top-notch, and they’ll get everything you deserve.
Half the assets. Custody of Ruthie. Lauren says you have dogs. Hell, we’ll get them, too.”
He laughs, a sound as devastating as it is familiar.
I hold tight to my calmness like a shield, though every muscle in my body tenses with disgust. That he offers lawyers rather than help, that my portrait still hangs on his wall at his daughter’s expense, that he laughs over the dissolution of a marriage and the ruthless dismantling of Lena’s dream—I’m hit with a truth that I’ve always known but somehow ignored for the security they could provide me.
The Rileys are small .
In integrity. In kindness. In everything that matters.
“Has this been the main objective all along?” I ask as their collective manipulations pile together in my head.
“The objective was to offer you the job you deserve. Secondary to that, we wanted to see you happy. It’s all been for a good cause, Ben,” he argues lightly.
“We failed you after your injuries. I promised myself I wouldn’t fail you again.
For your sake and Lauren’s. Ruthie’s, too.
We can give her the best of everything. Let us give you your life back. ”
I stand, setting my glass down before shaking his hand across the table. “Thank you, Mr. Riley.”
“You’re more than welcome. I’ll call my team now—”
“No, that’s unnecessary. Thank you for validating my decision not to take this job. I already have a family, and they’re what’s best for me.”
He scoffs. “ You left them, Ben. You’re not with Lena anymore because you can do better. Lauren is better. Stop punishing her already. She was devastated when you didn’t show up the other night.”
I cringe with shame that I even considered it.
More regret clouds me over letting Lena believe it.
Sparing her a future with me seemed right at the time.
Now that I know better, gluing the broken pieces of my marriage back together seems an impossible task.
Not everything that’s broken can be fixed.
Not that I’ll ever stop trying.
I lock eyes with him, determined to finish this.
“No one is better than Lena. My love and loyalty belong to her forever. I’d rather spend the rest of my life alone, broke, Deaf, unemployed, and whatever else life decides, begging for Lena’s forgiveness and restoring her faith in me, than live a half-life in your superficial, manipulative, entitled family. ”
The ease of my delivery surprises us both.
I feel unstuck. Clear. Focused. Recycling some of the same words I used on Lauren when we broke up feels cathartic.
This time, they aren’t said in anger but in truth and acceptance.
I did the right thing then; I’m doing it now.
I feel ashamed for judging Lena for her forced smiles while I fell so easily for their fake ones. How could I have been so damn gullible?
One long stride brings me to the pictures on his wall, where I remove my portrait and tuck it under my arm. “I don’t belong here.”
As I move toward the door, Mr. Riley shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re making a mistake, son.”
His parental stare-down takes me back to times when he could guilt Lauren with a look over subpar grades or speeding tickets. My respect for him made me hellbent on never inspiring his disappointment.
Now, I no longer care.
At the door, I say, “ Everyone wants the wins, but the losses… those make us who we are. That’s what you said. Remember? Your family lost me, and now I see exactly who you are. I want no part of it. And don’t call me son.”
I jerk the door open, and Lauren stumbles inside.
A weak smile emerges from her distress. “Ben, don’t let Dad scare you off. We can work this out, just the two of us.”
I huff and push by her, done with them.
But as I near the elevator, she calls out, “Ben, don’t go. It’s not my fault.”
“Nothing ever is.” I slap the elevator call button repeatedly.
“It came up one night at family dinner—”
“I don’t care.”
“I told him that you’re the only man I’d ever marry,” she smiles like it’s an endearing anecdote.
My irritation only grows.
“So, when this happened, Dad took those words to heart. We all did. I’m sorry, but we were so happy once. Remember? It can be like that again. I still have hope for us.”
Long shadows of anger stretch into my present, recalling her cringing expression at my scars.
That same dismissive attitude toward anything that doesn’t fit into the Rileys’ plans is still there, hidden.
My injuries didn’t fit. Neither did my wife.
Her condescending encounters with Lena, her scheme to get me to dance, her inappropriate invitation, and total disregard for my marriage and family all prove it.
The door pings open. I step inside, blocking her from joining me.
“We aren’t kids anymore, so let me be clear,” I say. “There is no us . There will never be an us. And if ever I waste a thought on you again, it’ll only be in vague gratitude for one thing.”
Her arms fold over her chest as she glares, her fake smile retreating behind a scowl.
“Leaving you led me to Lena. She’s everything I need, all I’ll ever want. She’s where I belong.” I smirk, amused by the sharp irritation etched on her face. “Oh, and Lauren, get a life… stop trying to fuck with mine. Don’t come near my wife or Saddletree again.”
Her mouth drops with my warning, just as I free the door and let it shut between us.
Immense satisfaction fills me as I watch the floor numbers go down.
I finally did the hard thing—I said what I needed to say.
It was exhausting and exhilarating, and revealed truths I've struggled to see.
Not only that turning down the Rileys in every respect is absolutely the right decision, but that turning Lena away wasn't. I didn't cheat, but I betrayed her all the same.
The elevator pings open on the first floor, and I emerge renewed with one hope—getting Lena back.