Chapter 3
Being angry at Clara wasn’t going to fix anything.
He was being angry at the wrong person. Clara’s phone shrilled beside him, and he didn’t need to look at the screen to know who was calling again.
There was no way Reed would’ve been happy with his response, and he was making his brother deal with the fallout from him walking out on the wedding, but there was no way he could go back and face Fern and not say something.
“Hey Reed.”
Clara taking the call didn’t surprise him, and Reed would know that too, which was why he called again. Probably trying to seek answers. Answers Clara didn’t have because he hadn’t given her the full story. He half-listened to their conversation.
“Okay, I’ll let him know. And thanks, I know he’ll appreciate it. I’ll look after him. I promise. Bye.”
Ben looked up at her, his fury abating a little. “Thanks.”
Clara nodded. “Reed said he’d handle everything. He also said he supports you one hundred percent and knows you wouldn’t have left if you didn’t have a damned good reason. All he asked was that you check in with him every now and then and let him know you’re doing okay.”
It wasn’t fair that Reed would take all of the backlash from his actions, but right now he didn’t care, which was an awful thing to feel, but he couldn’t help it.
How would Fern react when she heard the news? Although she might already have an inkling that something was wrong because of the fact that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
Would she feel any remorse?
Would she figure out that he found out about her duplicity?
Would she be acting like a distraught bride?
Knowing Fern, that was how she’d play it.
No way would she want anyone to know she was the reason Ben walked out.
She would do everything in her power to make it seem that he was the one who did her wrong.
He supposed in a way he had, but he wasn’t the one who was cheating.
He embraced another surge of rage. The more he accepted it the more he could let it flow and then deal with the way everything was falling apart around him.
For half a heartbeat he wanted to grab Clara’s phone and call his brother back to find out how she reacted, but, even through his anger, he knew it wasn’t a good idea.
“Ben, talk to me. Tell me what’s really going on. I can see you’re angry. I don’t blame you, I’d be the same if I found out my fiancé had been cheating on me.”
Ben surged to his feet and paced around the small room. “She didn’t care. She was going to go ahead with the wedding because ‘daddy approved of me’. She didn’t love me. She loved the guy she was fucking.”
“Oh Bento, I’m so sorry.”
He whirled around, his fists clenched at his sides. “I don’t want your fucking pity, Clara!”
Clara took a step back from him, her eyes wide with shock and … fear.
Fuck, it’s not her fault, and I’m scaring her. Being angry doesn’t solve anything.
Just like that, his antagonism deflated and remorse replaced it. Remorse for the one person helping him. Clara was his best friend. It wasn’t her fault Fern had cheated on him. “Clarabelle. Fuck,” he muttered and rolled his shoulders. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”
To his immense relief, the look of fear that clouded her beautiful blue eyes faded away. “I’ve never seen you so angry,” she whispered. “But your heart is breaking, so I can understand why you’re feeling that way.”
There was a hint of sadness in her tone, hitting him square in the chest. He didn’t like seeing Clara sad.
But his anger wasn’t because of the reason she thought it was.
As he stood in the middle of the hotel room, he realized he was angrier at himself for being so gullible than because of a broken heart.
It was time to face what had been in the back of his mind for far too long. Something he should’ve acted on before things had gotten so far out of hand.
“I don’t have a broken heart.”
Clara’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean you don’t have a broken heart? Fern was marrying you when she didn’t love you.”
“All true, and I did say earlier that I didn’t think I loved her.”
“When?” Her brow furrowed as though she was recalling all they’d talked about since she’d rescued him from the hotel lobby. A second later the frown lines cleared. “Oh, you did. I didn’t understand you then and I still don’t.”
The room closed around him, not in the same way as it had back at the other hotel, but more in a way that, when he bared his soul to Clara, he needed open space where he could move and breathe. “Let’s get out of here.”
Being the friend that she was, she didn’t question him. “Sure, let me get changed.”
For the first time since he’d seen her in the lobby, what she was wearing, registered.
Her dress was light green and complemented her light brown hair which was pulled up into a high ponytail, highlighting the length of her neck.
The dress was simple, but elegant and hugged her in all the right places and ended just above the knees.
She wore shoes that sparkled in the muted hotel light.
Clara looked gorgeous, and desire swarmed through him, warming him. Ben fought to control it. Fought to push it down, like he’d done so many times in the past. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling this way, especially since only a few hours ago he was planning to get married to another woman.
What did that mean?
Did it mean he hadn’t been truly in love with Fern?
Well, he’d begun to think that was the case when his bow tie began to choke him and realized that maybe he didn’t want to marry Fern after all.
It could’ve been cold feet, but now, with the way he was reacting to Clara, he knew it wasn’t the case.
In a way, he should be thankful that he’d stumbled upon Fern and her lover.
If it wasn’t for them, he would be standing in front of a woman saying vows that he thought he meant but deep down didn’t.
What would’ve happened if he hadn’t seen Fern and had just gone down to the lobby to get some air?
He would never know. Life had a way of making decisions for you.
“Ben, you okay?”
Clara’s question pulled him back from his introspection.
While he was lost in thought, she’d changed and was now wearing a pair of cream-colored linen pants that hinted at the length of her long legs.
She’d donned a light blue top which rested just above the waistband of her pants, and if she lifted her arms he would see a strip of her skin.
What would he have to do to get her to do that?
He shook his head. He needed to get these thoughts of Clara being more than a friend out of his head. He didn’t want to ruin two relationships in one day.
“You’re not okay. What’s wrong?” Clara was at his side in a flash, her hand resting on his arm. The gesture was a simple one, and his flesh burned at the touch, flowing through his body, and he wanted more, even though he shouldn’t.
“Sorry. I’m fine, I was just clearing my head. You ready to get out of here?” he asked, attempting to inject a carefree attitude in his tone.
Clara studied him, and he was sure she could see through his facade, but they’d been friends long enough and he knew she would respect his boundaries, even though he wanted to cross them.
“Okay, maybe some air will be good for you,” she murmured before turning away and grabbing her phone and room key. She glanced down at his feet then back at him. “Are you going to be able to walk far in those shoes?”
He wiggled his toes in the fancy, pointed toe, black patent leather shoes Fern insisted he needed to have for the wedding.
“Guess we’ll find out. Worst comes to worst, I’ll buy a pair of sneakers on our walk.
” Out of habit, Ben patted his pants pockets to check that his phone and wallet were there only to find them empty.
For half a second he’d forgotten he’d left them in the hotel suite.
“Shit, I forgot I left my stuff at the hotel.”
Way to state the obvious .
“It’s okay. I’m sure I can spot you a pair of chain store sneakers if you need them,” she said with a wink.
Ben groaned. “That’s not funny. My heels still have scars from those shoes you talked me into buying when we were fifteen.”
Clara laughed. “Twenty minutes. That’s all it took for those runners you had to have–because they were so cheap–to rip your heels to shreds.
And I didn’t talk you into anything. I just agreed you should get them when you waxed lyrical about how fantastic they’d be and how everyone in school would be jealous.
I knew they would show you how buying ten-dollar shoes would work out for you. ”
This was what he needed. Someone to laugh with. At the beginning of his relationship with Fern she’d laughed with him, and then things had changed between them. Was that when she’d started seeing the other guy?
Stop it! I’m never going to go back to Fern, so there’s no point thinking about when and if things happened.
“Come on,” he said brusquely, the humor from a few seconds ago all gone. “Let’s get out of here.”
Clara, being the good friend she was, didn’t question his change of mood. Or call him out for being short with her. No, she walked toward the room door and opened it. He grabbed it so she didn’t have to keep it open for him.
They made their way out of the hotel and onto the street. He squinted in the bright sunlight and he wished he’d thought to grab his sunglasses.
“A cheap pair of sunnies shouldn’t hurt you too much,” Clara quipped.
The corners of his lips quirked up. “My eyes may disagree with you there. I’m sure I read somewhere that UV rays can cause lots of damage to the cornea.”
He had no idea if that was true, but this was what he and Clara did. They joked. They laughed. They said outrageous things to each other. Everything with Clara was easy, so why was he so afraid to acknowledge that he felt more for her than friendship?
Why had he been so hellbent on marrying someone who didn’t give him what Clara gave him?
He had to be truthful with her.
“I dodged a bullet by not marrying Fern. I didn’t love her the way a man who’d committed his life to a woman should. She saved us from making a huge mistake.” He grabbed Clara by her upper arms so that he could look her directly in the eyes. “I. Didn’t. Love. Her.”