Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Audrey
I stare at the very angry woman, confused.
Who is she?
Did she kidnap Ben and is waiting for a ransom?
I almost laugh out loud at the thought. Good luck with that. My salary barely covers my rent and the essentials. With a laughably meager three dollars and twenty-three cents weighing down my pocket, it’s all I have to offer to save my boyfriend from this . . . this very strange woman. But somehow it’ll have to do—the plane is about to board, and we need to leave pronto.
“So, you do know Ben?” she asks, an edge of tension in her voice that immediately puts me on alert. I feel my muscles tense, my heart rate quickening.
Confused and suddenly wary, I answer, “Yes. He’s my boyfriend.” I narrow my eyes, scanning her face for any hint of deception. “Is there a problem? Is there something wrong with him?” My heart starts pounding, a sense of dread settling in the pit of my stomach. “Our flight is leaving soon. Unless something happened and . . . Oh, God. Please tell me he’s okay.”
The woman’s face tightens, her eyes sharpening as if bracing for a fight. “I’m Ben’s wife.” Her words hit me like a blast of arctic air, chilling me to the bone.
The world tilts a little at her confession. “His . . . his wife?” I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, the air rushing out of my lungs.
He’s not married. I would’ve seen the signs, right?
“Ben. Benjamin Starling is not married,” I clarify, shaking my head in disbelief. Maybe she has the wrong guy. There are thousands and thousands of men named Ben in this world.
The concept of Ben, my Ben, being married is not feasible. He’s not that kind of guy. At least, that’s what I thought.
“Yes. Benjamin Starling and I are. As I just mentioned, I am his wife,” she snaps. Her eyes flash with anger, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “We’ve been married for five years and have two children. Clearly, he’s made no mention of any of us to you. Seems he’s been living a double life—again.” Her anger is palpable, directed not just at the situation but at me, an unwitting participant in her life.
The other woman.
I’m having trouble breathing and struggling to process her words, to reconcile the image of the man I’ve been dating with this new reality. My mind races, trying to make sense of it all. I feel like I’m in a nightmare, desperate to wake up. “Where is he?” I manage to ask, my voice trembling.
“Home, taking care of our two children. I told him my mom had an emergency.” She grins, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “If he thought he was going on some kind of trip with his mistress, he has another thing coming. But I also had to see you with my own eyes. You’re not as pretty as his last mistress.”
My eyebrows shoot up. My mouth falls open in shock. “Last mistress?” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You thought you were the only one?” she snickers, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. “Sweetheart, there’s always one or two. They usually catch on soon, but you?—”
I hold up my hands, my palms facing her in a gesture of surrender. “I had no clue. I didn’t know.”
She scoffs. “Obviously.”
She lifts her hand as if to pat me or slap me, but I don’t let her take a swing or whatever. I take a step back, my body tensing. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened, but you don’t have to get physical. I know Krav Maga.”
That’s a total lie, but maybe she’ll be afraid to touch me if I say that, right?
“Are you threatening me?” The volume of her voice rises, drawing the attention of everyone around us. They watch with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. “My husband’s mistress is threatening me, after trying to break up my marriage and our precious family.”
“I’m not—” I start to protest, but she cuts me off .
“Stay away from us, or you’ll regret it.” Her eyes blaze with fury as she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd.
As the initial shock fades, a slow burn of anger and disbelief takes its place. The anticipation of seeing Ben morphs into dread, twisting my stomach into knots. And soon, my phone rings. It’s Ben.
“Is it true?” I ask, my voice trembling with anger as I brace myself for his answer. “You’re married?”
“I’m sorry, Audrey. I had no idea—” he begins, but I cut him off.
“That you would get caught?” I snap, my grip tightening on the phone.
“It’s not like that.” His voice is pleading, but it only fuels my anger.
“You’re married. That’s the bottom line. I . . . I have to go,” I say, ending the call before he can respond.
Tears blur my eyes, but I barely notice them. All I can feel is a white-hot anger burning through my veins and an aching hurt cracking open in my chest. My heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million pieces.
That absolute bastard.
I feel torn between anger and guilt, my mind racing with questions. How could Ben cheat on his wife like this? And what about me? Was our whole relationship a lie? I feel used, betrayed, and utterly foolish for falling for him.
I’m remorseful for his wife. How much did she know about me? Were there many more before me? She didn’t look hurt, but angry. Still, my heart aches for her and her children. I don’t have any business of feeling sorry for myself because my perfect little bubble has burst.
The anger though.
He used me. I feel sick to my stomach as the realization sets in—Ben had lied to both of us. Tears start falling down my cheeks, hot and heavy, as I think about how many other women he may have hurt with his lies. And here I was, thinking I had found the perfect man. Now, all that perfection has shattered, leaving behind nothing but pain and disappointment.
And that’s not the only devastating issue. Now, I have to go home alone, no boyfriend by my side like I said I would. Mom . . . God, she’ll be so disappointed. I can already see the pity in her eyes and the sympathy in her smile. It’s more than I can bear.
I bite my lip. There has to be a way to fix this. I can’t imagine having to tell my family the truth. The thought of their reactions, their questions, their well-meaning concern makes my stomach churn .
The bright LED screen displays the boarding announcement, but my eyes blur as I stand in line, feeling numb and disconnected from the world. My usual confident stance has been replaced by a slumped posture, my shoulders hunched and my feet dragging. It’s as if the weight of the world has settled on my shoulders, crushing me beneath its burden.
The betrayal cuts deep, leaving me raw and exposed. I feel like a fool, like a pawn in Ben’s game. How could I have been so blind, so na?ve? The questions swirl in my mind, taunting me with their insistence.
Just then, a familiar voice cuts through the haze of my thoughts. “Hey, Little McCallister,” the voice calls out, and I whirl around to see none other than Liam Cohen grinning at me. One of my brother’s best friends since . . . I think forever . . . stands there looking just as handsome as ever. His blue eyes sparkle and his smirk is as charming as I remember.
“Liam,” I can’t help but smile back as he pulls me into a warm hug. His embrace is comforting, and for a moment, I allow myself to relax into it. “Are you going to Boston too?”
“Like I would miss your parents’ anniversary. I think they and my mother would disown me,” he jokes, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Small world, running into you here.”
I roll my eyes, trying to hide the flutter in my stomach. When I was younger, I had the biggest crush on Liam, but he always saw me as Max’s little sister. “Not really. We both live in San Diego, and we have to be in Boston for the weekend,” I remind him, my tone a little blunter than I intended.
“Sure, but you could’ve flown earlier or tomorrow. ”
“Well, this is the flight that was more convenient for Ben.” I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant.
“Who’s Ben?” Liam asks, his brow furrowing in confusion.
I let out a humorless laugh. “The asshole I was dating up until about twenty minutes ago?”
He flinches. “Yeah, I remember Max mentioning some asshole you were dating. He wanted me to get the 4-1-1 but I haven’t had time.” He shrugs. “Oh well. I’m glad it’s over.”
But then, he frowns, his gaze searching my face. “Have you been crying?” As his jaw sets, he adds. “If that asshole hurt you, I’ll make him pay.”
I look away, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. “He didn’t hurt me, per se. Though he turned out to be a complete liar and cheater,” I say bitterly, my voice cracking.
I explain how the wife came all the way to the gate to tell me he was married. Now no one is going to believe that he was actually real. The words pour out of me, a torrent of hurt and anger that I can no longer contain.
Liam puts a comforting arm around my shoulder, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I’m really sorry, Audrey. You deserve so much better than some cheating asshole.”
“Thanks,” I smile weakly, grateful for his words that somehow draw a chuckle out of me.
Soon after, he asks me for my boarding pass, and I hand it over without hesitation. He takes my phone with him and goes to the counter to talk to one of the attendants. When he comes back, he hands it over with a grin. “Ready. We’re sitting together.”
“Thank you?” I raise an eyebrow, a little confused but appreciative, nonetheless.
He winks at me, his smile turning mischievous. “It is the least I can do for Max’s kid sister.”
I would tell him I’m not a kid if I wasn’t feeling so defeated. I’m almost thirty, for fuck’s sake. Being lumped into a single category is not only diminishing, but reminds me of the teenager who always wanted to be seen by him but he always ignored.
The PA system crackles to life, a tinny voice echoing through the terminal. “Attention all passengers. Flight 247 to Boston is now boarding at Gate 12. We invite our first-class passengers and those with priority boarding to please line up at the gate.”
Liam turns to me, a grin on his face. “That’s us, Little McCallister. Let’s go.” He reaches for my carry-on bag, slinging it over his shoulder before I can protest.
“First class? I can carry my own bag, you know,” I grumble, but there’s no real heat behind my words.
“I know you can, but let me be a gentleman for once, okay?” He winks at me, and I feel a flush creep up my neck.
We make our way to the gate, where the attendant scans our boarding passes with a smile. “Enjoy your flight, Mr. and Mrs. Cohen.”
I’m about to protest, but Liam places his hand on the small of my back, and says, “Thank you,” as we continue toward the plane.
As we step inside the cabin, I can’t help but marvel at the spacious first-class area. I settle into my seat, sinking into the soft leather cushion with a sigh.
Liam stows our bags in the overhead compartment before settling in himself. He leans back in his seat, a contented exhale escaping his lips as he stretches his long legs out in front of him. “Not too shabby, huh?” He grins, his eyes sparkling with pride as he gestures to the cabin around us.
I take in the plush seats, the ample legroom, and the sleek, modern design of the first-class cabin. It’s a far cry from the cramped economy seats I’m used to. “How did you manage to get us seats together in first class?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued .
He shrugs, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I have my ways,” he says, his voice low and playful.
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Well, thank you. This is a nice surprise,” I say, my heart fluttering at the thought of him going out of his way to make this trip more comfortable for me.
Stop it, Audrey. You’re not a teenager anymore and he’s just being nice because . . . Max, maybe?
“Anything for you, Little McCallister.” His voice is soft, and for a moment, I forget about the ordeal I just went through.
Ben who?
The plane begins to taxi down the runway, the engines humming to life. I feel a slight jolt as we lift off the ground, my stomach dropping as we climb higher and higher into the sky. I grip the armrests, my knuckles turning white as I try to steady my breathing.
Liam reaches over, his hand covering mine, his touch warm and reassuring. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, his brow furrowed with concern.
I nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah, just not a big fan of takeoffs,” I admit, my voice shakier than I’d like.
He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Well, lucky for you, you’ve got me here to distract you,” he says, a playful smirk on his lips. “How about a game of ‘I Spy’?”
I laugh, the tension in my body easing as I let myself get caught up in his silly game. We take turns pointing things out that we see, our competitive streaks coming out as we try to one-up each other.
As the plane reached cruising altitude, the flight attendant’s voice sounded over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have now reached our cruising altitude of 35,000 feet. You are now free to move about the cabin, but please keep your seat belts fastened while seated. Our in-flight service will begin shortly.”
Liam stands up, stretching in the aisle. He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a sleek laptop, the silver casing glinting in the cabin lights. “Time to get some work done,” he says with a grin, settling back into his seat.
I watch as he opens the laptop, his fingers flying over the keys with practiced ease. “What are you working on?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
He glances over at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Top secret stuff, Little McCallister. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
I roll my eyes, a laugh escaping my lips. “Yeah, sure. Like you’re some kind of secret agent or something. I know what you do. You own a company with my brother and keep him, Ethan, and Cal organized since they like to pretend to play spy.”
“Sure, that’s what I do.” He winks at me, the gesture sending a flutter through my stomach.
The flight attendant approaches our seats, a smile on her face. “Can I get you anything to drink or eat?”
Liam orders a whiskey, neat, while I opt for a glass of white wine. We peruse the menu, debating each option before settling on a cheese plate to share.
As we nibble on the assortment of cheese and crackers, we talk about our families. I tell him about my job, and he listens attentively, offering words of encouragement when I mention a particularly difficult client.
As the conversation flows, I feel my earlier anger beginning to fade, replaced by a warm sense of contentment. It’s always been so easy to talk to Liam, to fall back into the familiar rhythm of our friendship. Well, he was more Max’s friend than mine, but when I came along to play with them Lee would be the one who would always allow me to join and even kept an eye on me.
My eyelids begin to feel heavy, the wine and the gentle hum of the plane’s engines lulling me into a drowsy state. I feel myself sinking into my seat, my head nodding forward .
Liam’s arm gently moves me, guiding my head to rest on his shoulder. I nestle into the crook of his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne—spicy, woodsy, and fresh—so Liam.
In my last moments of wakefulness, a thought drifts through my mind. I want this, the easy companionship, the sense of being understood. It’s nice to be heading home with someone who gets me, someone whose very presence feels like a soothing embrace, offering comfort.
But will I ever get it?