Chapter 5 - Ben
“Well, Ben… let’s have it… this well-planned break-up speech. You can skip the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ part because it’s definitely you.” My wife’s lips twisted into a vicious sneer as she leaned against the toilet and glared at me.
Angela must’ve finally gotten the fucking hint because I heard her feet scurry back down the hall towards the backyard where she was, hopefully, retrieving her clothes.
I shifted awkwardly and tried to search for an excuse that could explain what my wife had witnessed. There wasn’t one. She’d seen too much to be tricked into believing that it was a misunderstanding.
I am so fucked.
“Mel, baby, I’m so sorry.” I started and put my hands together in a praying motion. She scoffed and then gagged over the toilet again.
Jesus, she looks terrible.
“This was the first time…”
Lie.
“It didn’t mean anything…”
Truth. It never does.
“It was a mistake…”
What was I thinking letting her into our home…
“This is a terrible speech.” Melanie interrupted dryly.
I stared at her, temporarily speechless.
What the fuck do I say to that?
“Benji, I’m going to go…” Angela called from down the hall.
I didn’t even turn my head to look at her. I kept my eyes locked on my wife as I responded.
“Good.”
“Call me?”
That made me look.
I spun my head in surprise. She had put her skirt and shoes back on but was still wearing my shirt.
Great, so hers was going to be lying around somewhere for my wife to find.
Was she serious?
“Are you stupid?” I croaked out before I could stop myself.
Melanie snorted and muttered something about peas in a pod.
“Benji, why are you being cruel?” Angela pouted.
“Get out of my house.” I gritted out.
How had she hidden her craziness so well?
This was definitely going to be a disaster at home AND at work.
“Scurry along Angel, I’ll return him to you in one piece as soon as he’s packed his belongings.” My wife called out, unhelpfully.
Angela searched my face for confirmation, and I shifted my eyes in the direction of the front of the house.
“GO.” I commanded.
She glared and stomped out of the house; her heels clicked loudly on our floors.
I took a deep breath after the front door slammed shut and turned back to face my wife.
She was watching me with the same beautiful green eyes that had always glowed with love and adoration, but they were missing their usual spark.
“You know the worst part?” She spoke quietly. I swallowed hard as her eyes started to glisten.
“My family was worried about you… we were worried about YOU while we were burying one of the most wonderful women I had ever known… and you were burying your dick inside another woman.” A manic laugh bubbled out of her at the same time tears started pouring from her eyes.
She looked absolutely deranged. I couldn’t tell if I should be more worried about a mental breakdown or whatever illness she had.
“Baby…” I pleaded and reached for her.
“Don’t you fucking dare.” She hiccupped. “I want you to pack a bag and get OUT.”
“No, we need to talk. I can fix this.” Panic started to build up inside of me.
“There’s NOTHING you can do to fix this…” Melanie screamed. I flinched back as her rage echoed through the empty house. “Tell me one thing… Was she in my fucking bed?”
“No!”
Truth.
Thank God, we hadn’t made it upstairs.
I was already in the hot tub when the back door slid open, and she stepped out of my house.
Angela had followed me home, without invitation, from work this evening and had surprised me by just walking in to my home... like she had been here a million times before.
She hadn’t.
The other times we had hooked up these past few weeks had been at the office, and a few times I snuck off to Angela’s apartment. The last time was when I was supposed to be golfing.
HR is going to have a field day with this.
My wife was slowly rising to her feet. She looked pale, and I was genuinely worried she would fall down.
“Please let me help you?” I begged.
“No.” She glared at me and started clapping her hands together. “Go. Pack. A. Bag. Benji.”
Melanie and I had fought plenty of times over the years. I was not a stranger to pissing off my wife, and while she was usually submissive to my desires, she was not lacking in the backbone department when she got her panties in a twist about something.
I had never heard her speak to anyone with so much disgust and rage. I had no idea how to talk to the woman before me.
“I don’t want to…” I whispered.
“I no longer care what you want.”
There had to be magic words that would make this all go away, but for once, my brain was blank.
“Where would I go?” I choked out—a final desperate attempt to guilt her into letting me stay.
“I’d recommend asking your girlfriend that question because if you don’t leave my recommendation will be the morgue.” She shrugged.
I felt my jaw drop.
Did she just threaten me?
“I’ll get a hotel room for the night but tomorrow we are going to talk.” I straightened my posture and decided to take charge again. “I’m not moving out of my home or losing my wife.”
She scoffed and shoved past me as she stormed down the hallway to the kitchen. I followed after her, needing to hear her agree to talk tomorrow. I froze when I saw her rigid posture as she stared at the island countertop.
Angela had left her hair clip in the middle of the otherwise empty counter.
“I didn’t…” I started to say, but she spun around to face me and cut me off.
“What surfaces in this house need to be burned?”
“Mel…” I groaned, “None. We—” her nostrils flared. “She wasn’t in the house—not like that—not with me.” I finished weakly, stumbling over my words because there didn’t seem to be any safe ones.
Definitely not WE.
“If you are lying to me, I might burn you with the house.” She hissed and looked nauseous again.
“This was the first time—” She cut me off with a loud snort and rolled her eyes.
“—She’d been here.” I decided not to try and convince her that I’d only been with Angela once.
Melanie’s expression made it clear I was going to have a hard enough time getting her to listen to the truth; not a chance I was feeding her lies.
That didn’t mean I was going to volunteer extra details or be honest about how many times, but I wouldn’t be able to get away with pretending it was only the once.
“I need you to go.” Melanie turned back to the kitchen and walked to the cabinet where she kept her tea collection. I wanted to argue, but I could tell that she wasn’t going to change her mind tonight.
“I’ll just grab enough for the night.”
She ignored me and put the kettle on the stove in silence.
I trudged up the stairs to our bedroom. My carry-on duffel was in the closet, with only my travel toiletries inside, from the last time I had gone on a trip.
As always, my clothes were all organized and hung up.
The only things out of place were the clothes I’d left on the floor over the week while she was away.
I set my duffle down on the unmade bed and surveyed the mess with a grimace.
I’d meant to tidy up before she got home.
Melanie never left the bed unmade or clothes on the floor; in fact, other than the few times she’d had the flu, I’d never come home to anything less than perfection.
I was worried that if I started to clean up now, it would make it look like there was something to hide.
I decided it was better to have her annoyed by an unmade bed and a pile of dirty clothes than give her any more reasons to suspect I’d desecrated our marital home.
I packed clothes to sleep in and then carefully placed one of my suits in the duffle.
I'd have to ask if the hotel had a laundry service to get the wrinkles out before I faced my boss tomorrow. I reached into my pocket for my phone to book a room and realized I hadn’t grabbed it from the hot tub before chasing after Melanie.
I groaned and swore under my breath. The last thing I had wanted to do was draw attention to that hot tub again tonight.
I finished tossing my toiletries into the bag and took another look around the room I shared with my wife before I trudged back down the stairs.
When I entered the kitchen, I expected to find Melanie waiting with her tea, but instead she was sitting on the back deck staring at the hot tub while she sipped from her favorite cup.
When she heard the door slide open she waved a hand towards the site of my destruction and spoke without looking at me.
“Your phone was ringing.”
I didn’t know what to say, so like the idiot I was, I just nodded at the back of her head.
I slowly walked over and grabbed my phone from the edge and glanced at the screen.
8 missed calls from Ms. Reed.
1 missed call from Peter- Home.
4 voicemails.
3 new messages.
Fuck.
I swallowed hard and slid my phone into my pocket and turned back around to face my wife.
She was watching me with an odd expression on her face.
“What?” I suddenly felt very self-conscious, as if she could see all my sins written on my body.
“You still look the same.” She mused, “I always thought that betrayal would have a—" her hand circled in a searching motion "—an obvious 'look'… that love just blinded us to the evil of others."
I had no idea where she was going with this and kept my mouth shut.
"But even though I know what you did—" she snorted dryly, "saw it with my own eyes, you look like the same to me.”
She furrowed her brows her confusion evident on her beautiful face.
I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck.
“I wonder if that just means I’ve always been blind to who you really are?” She looked away from me, and her eyes drifted aimlessly around the yard.
She wasn’t really asking me, my input wasn't wanted or needed, she was simply talking outloud. Being the coward that I was, I was grateful that she didn’t expect a reply.
What the fuck would I even say?
“Are you sure you want me to go?” I could hear the whine in my voice and cringed.