Chapter Six
Devin’s POV
After dinner, just after the first few dances, Caleb ducked out to one of the many terraces saying his mother had both called and texted him.
Which I knew was their signal for needing a call quickly, basically an SOS.
I had always understood. I would have been the same if my parents said it was something urgent.
This time though, I didn’t know why, but it felt wrong.
The way my stomach knotted even tighter, threatening to make my dinner make a reappearance.
It was also how he looked like he was in a rush, but looking around like he was searching for somewhere quiet to make the call.
Or worse. He was searching for someone. It felt like he was lying, again.
Or still.
I wasn’t sure which at this point, since I guess he technically never stopped talking to her.
Something about the way he looked at me, or more accurately, the lack of the way he looked at me, when he said it was his mom, that she needed him.
It looked like he was uncomfortable or constipated.
His eyes darted everywhere but towards me.
Like what he was about to do was not, in fact, call his mother.
It was a creeping, sinking feeling that all was not well.
But I didn’t have proof so I couldn’t just accuse him. No without solid evidence.
I stood there watching him walk away, that icky feeling festering, before I went to sit back down at the table.
I watched others as they danced, and mingled, as I nursed my glass of wine, living my best wallflower life.
Checking my phone again, it had been close to twenty minutes since he disappeared into the throng of people.
If it was his mother calling, if there was an urgent issue, I was worried it could be something really bad because he’d been gone so long.
Was it his father? Was it his heart again?
His sister? I was about to start searching each nook on the large second floor terrace, even though it was going to take forever, when Mr. Westwood came up to me.
I gave him a polite smile I knew didn’t reach my eyes before I tried to walk away in search of Caleb and whatever emergency he was dealing with.
“Devin Dennison? Caleb’s wife, correct?” Mr. Westwood’s voice caused me to pause.
I turned, nodding, as he seemed to remember me from last year.
He’d been friendly, but this was really one of the only times I saw him.
It was the second or third time ever. I hadn’t thought he would actually remember me.
His baritone voice continued, pulling me from my brief thoughts.
“I’d like you to come with me, please,” I must have given him a confused look because he held his arm out to me, trying to keep this a smooth transition, his voice low.
He almost looked ashamed, possibly embarrassed to be asking me this.
“There’s something of a sensitive nature I need to discuss with you elsewhere.
Can you be quiet? Absolutely silent?” His hand clasped mine, looping it through his arm as he led me down the hallway.
Looking at him even more confused than I was previously, but I nodded.
Again.
Because I simply couldn’t find the words.
What I felt in my stomach was that I needed to go with him, even though it felt like I was headed straight for danger.
Everything screamed inside me that I needed to turn around, to not follow through.
What could this man possibly want to talk with me about?
And why now of all times? I was racking my brain as we walked toward a particular spot on the terrace that had a man standing outside one of the doors like he was guarding it.
“This is Hector. He’s my guard. My aide, Sade, is outside waiting for us,” Mr. Westwood turned as soon as Hector opened the door just a sliver.
“Please. No matter what you see or hear. Please do not make a sound.” Mr. Westwood’s voice sounded almost sad and apologetic. I nodded again, squaring my shoulders as my brain yelled at me to stop and turn around, to leave. To go back to where I came from and just wait for Caleb there.
What was so bad out here that he needed to tell me and I had to give him full silence?
I watched his back as he led me outside to where the woman named Sade was waiting.
As we drew closer, I heard the sounds of a couple enthusiastically making love.
It certainly sounded very vigorous. I felt my cheeks flush as I tried not to listen to the moans of the woman, and somewhat familiar grunts even though they sounded very close.
As I waited for Mr. Westwood to say something, I looked around uncomfortably.
I didn’t look to where the sounds were coming from, I just wanted to look around the English style garden that was in the back of this immaculate manor.
I was in awe of how beautiful it was that for a moment, I forgot where I was.
Everything was covered in a soft layer of snow, turning it into a winter wonderland that had my jaw on the floor.
This was the best company Christmas party I had been to, and then the sounds got louder, pulling me out of my moment of awe.
I was shocked they were being so bold as to what they were doing.
I mean, literally, anyone could walk out here and see them having sex.
Who would even…MY HUSBAND?!
Just as my heart shattered and I went to scream, Mr. Westwood’s hand came over my mouth. His other arm wrapped around my waist, and he held me there for a moment.
“You said you’d be quiet. I need you to follow through on this.
I know you want to scream and I know this hurts,” he whispered in my ear.
Tears were already falling down my cheeks onto his hand as I tried to nod, my knees feeling weak.
He spun me to face him, holding his finger up to his mouth, shushing me.
I nodded, swaying slightly before his hands wrapped around my waist. My heart was breaking right in front of these strangers.
I tried to be strong. I tried so hard not to let the dam completely explode just yet, though it had already started cracking and breaking.
The tears didn’t get the memo and were rushing to meet his fingers on my cheeks.
He removed his hand, giving me the questioning look once more.
I took a deep breath, as I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking getting ready to record what was happening right behind me.
Mr. Westwood leaned down so his mouth was right next to my left ear, and whispered just loud enough so I could hear.
“Don’t. You don’t want the flash to accidentally turn on. I have security getting the footage from earlier tonight also. The bartender downstairs let me know that, that couple,” he pointed to where my husband, and the beautiful, younger woman, Becky, were fucking in front of me.
“They came out of the closet right next to the bar, readjusting their clothing and fixing their hair as the speeches were going on. I don’t have evidence of what happened in there, but this as well as that footage should help if you want to pursue a divorce.
” His whispered words were such a comfort.
I felt like I was going to be sick, but I kept quiet.
I wanted to have the courage to get a photo or video, but also knew I didn’t want to possibly, accidentally, tip them off to the fact that they’ve been caught.
I was thankful that he was getting the footage.
I put my phone away, furiously wiping my tears.
“Can I have a copy of the footage?” I inquired quietly as I took a few paces farther away from where they were destroying me with every filthy sound assaulting my ears. He nodded, following me, stepping away from them and closer to me before whispering back to me.
“They have infrared out here on the terrace, just in case. This might be terrible for me to do because I don’t get involved with other people here at the office, but I’ve been cheated on, after trying to fix things,” he paused for a moment, weighing his words, “Everyone at the office knew you were giving him another chance. She made that quite obvious when she kept bugging him, even after having to move teams.”
He let that sink in. When this came to light, I wasn’t going to be the only one who knew. Everyone who knew me would know.
“With this being witnessed, not only by myself, but others, they’ve broken the ‘no fraternization’ policy with the company.
I can let them think they’re getting away with it for a while.
Say, until the divorce is finalized and you get a nice payout?
Or, I can fire them now. Whichever you decide.
” I stared at him, letting my eyes unfocus, realizing the decision wasn’t that hard. We’d only been married for six months.
“Burn it all down. I’m getting a lawyer.” I was already letting my mind move through all of the next moves I needed to make.
“I know you’re a physician, and can probably afford your own, but if you’d like, you can use my lawyer.
She’s a pit bull in the court room and can get you whatever you need or want from any situation.
I would pay any retainer fee to keep her on my side.
” I looked at this man who’d just become more to me in less than ten minutes as more than just my soon-to-be ex-husband’s boss.
I wasn’t quite sure what, but I knew we’d moved past those former titles.
I was busy watching him, trying to find some lie, some hidden motive for being nice to me, and finding none.
“Can I get your number? I’d like that for proof for when I tell our families,” I pulled my phone out, handing it to him as I wiped the tears that wouldn’t seem to stop, even as I kept my voice low and tried to move my mind back to strategy mode.
“I also need that evidence to give my whatever lawyer I hire. If your offer is good, I’d like to meet with your lawyer also.
But, I need to head home now. I need to start getting ducks in a row and with the stupid weekend having started already, I know no one is available for the next couple of days.
” I lamented, my eyes puffy, my heart hollowing out as their sounds continued while we walked back inside.
The lump in my throat and the emptiness in my heart were too much.
I needed to be away from hearing or seeing anymore.
I needed to be somewhere safe where I could break.
I took my phone back from him, slipping it into my purse as my brain started to function and my subconscious came out of hypersleep.
How could I be dumb enough to think we could reconcile? To think he could quit her?
Clearly, he’d quit her so well, so thoroughly, they were fucking now. Or again. I wasn’t sure which, to be honest. And I had to keep telling myself I didn’t care.
“Call me Clint. We’re going to be partners now,” he said, holding his hand out for me to pass back through the door. I stepped through, grateful for the dampening of the passionate, rhythmic sounds from outside. Right as the door closed, I heard my husband shout.
“Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming inside you!”
We hadn’t even done that because I wanted to wait a few years before having kids.
What a fucking joke.