Chapter 9
CALLIE
Dinner went better than I expected. There were no carefully timed sighs or subtle little pauses that made me second-guess every sentence that left my mouth, just easy conversation.
Ethan sat beside me, close enough that our knees brushed under the table.
Not accidentally, either. He’d angled his chair toward mine on purpose, which made me relax even more.
Across from us, Gage was in rare form. He was charming without trying, and one of the board members laughed loudly enough that a couple nearby tables turned to look.
“Tell me you at least blamed your CFO.”
Gage’s grin widened. “Oh, I tried. But Prescott has this annoying habit of being right.”
Ethan leaned back in his chair. “Which is why you keep me around.”
I laughed softly at the easy banter between them, turning toward Gage’s mom when she asked me about teaching with genuine interest. I mentioned office hours and grading, and she didn’t give me that condescending smile I’d come to recognize at certain gatherings.
Instead, she nodded. “That must take a lot of patience.”
“It does,” I admitted, surprised by the small sting behind my eyes. “But it’s worth it when you can tell they’re actually improving.”
She stretched her arm across the table to pat my hand. “It sounds like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
Her kindness was in stark contrast to how my mother-in-law treated me.
Ethan leaned in close enough that his breath warmed my ear. “You doing okay?”
“I’m good.” I flashed him a soft smile. “Really.”
His hand slid to my knee under the table, giving me a brief squeeze.
Then his thumb brushed over my inner thigh, almost absentminded, as though he couldn’t help himself.
My breath caught before I could stop it, and goosebumps spread across my skin in the wake of his touch.
His attentiveness was a complete turn-on to me, especially on the heels of him rebuffing his mother.
It felt so much lighter without Margot at the table with us, but I knew she wouldn’t be happy about being pushed out. I glanced across the room and caught her glaring at me. There was no warmth in her expression, only calculation.
Before I could worry about what kind of payback she was planning, Ethan’s knee bumped mine again, but the unease had already settled in my chest, refusing to be chased away.
I excused myself once dessert arrived, claiming I needed to use the restroom before coffee was served. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but the truth was I needed a moment to myself.
The hallway outside the ballroom was quieter, the hum of conversation dulled behind the heavy doors. I took a breath, letting my shoulders drop, reminding myself that I was Ethan’s wife. I belonged here, whether his mother liked it or not.
“Callie.”
I froze.
Margot’s heels clicked against the marble as she approached, her lips curved in a way that suggested warmth without ever quite reaching her eyes.
“I was hoping to catch you alone.”
Of course she was.
“Margot,” I replied, matching her tone. “Everything all right?”
She glanced toward the ballroom, then back at me, her gaze sweeping over my dress with polite assessment. “At least you found an acceptable dress this year.”
“Gee, thanks.” I quirked a brow. “Did you follow me out here just to give me a backhanded compliment about my gown?”
“Hardly,” she huffed, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t have the chance to mention it earlier since my son banished me to another table.”
I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t call sitting at a table with your friends being banished.”
“You couldn't possibly understand the speculation that will be caused by the seating arrangement.” She lifted her chin, looking down her nose at me. “I only wish my Ethan would’ve considered that when somehow managed to convince him to have me moved.”
Laughing softly, I shook my head. “I was just as surprised as you were when Ethan said you weren’t sitting with us.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Margot tapped her toe on the floor. “My son has eaten with me at the Langford Tech Gala every year we’ve attended.”
“If you’re unhappy with the change this year, take it up with him.”
I refused to feel guilty for throwing my husband under the bus with his mother. I’d spent too long fairing for myself with her, and I refused to do it any longer. Margot was Ethan’s problem, not mine.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t aware how little I cared about her opinion now and continued, “Ethan has always been sensitive. Ever since his father passed, he’s taken things harder than he lets on. He needs someone who understands the pressures he carries instead of adding to them.”
I met her eyes steadily, refusing to flinch even though it could probably be said that I’d given him reasons to be stressed lately. “I’ve stood by Ethan’s side since before he asked me to marry him.”
“I’m sure he appreciates your devotion.” Her eyes gleamed with malice. “Still, it’s been nice to see him with someone who understands his world lately. Sophie’s been such a help to him.”
The implication landed like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs even as I kept my face composed. But before I could respond, she turned and walked away.
I stood there for a moment and tried to steady myself, refusing to let her see that she’d landed a direct hit with her verbal jab. Then I lifted my chin and headed back toward the ballroom.
Whatever game Margot was playing, I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of watching me falter. Especially not on a night when Ethan had taken my side.
The ballroom felt louder when I returned, the noise pressing in on me. I threaded my way back toward our table, pausing when I realized Ethan’s seat was empty.
I scanned the surrounding tables but didn’t spot him. He wasn’t near the bar either. His jacket was still slung over the back of his chair, and his drink sat untouched where he’d left it.
A small ripple of unease slid through me as I walked to the table and asked Gage’s mom, “Have you seen Ethan?”
She nodded toward the far side of the room. “He stepped outside a few minutes ago.”
“Thanks,” I murmured before turning away.
I headed toward a pair of open doors leading to a terrace, slowing when I heard Ethan’s voice. I assumed he was on the phone until a feminine murmur drifted through the doorway.
I froze.
The music behind me faded into a dull hum as I leaned closer, my pulse suddenly loud in my ears. Eavesdropping rarely ended well, but I couldn’t make myself turn away.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Her tone was low and edged with something that made my stomach twist, but I recognized that voice—Sophie. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you.”
For a heartbeat, I told myself I’d misheard. That my mind was filling in gaps out of fear because Ethan and I were so out of sync with each other. This couldn’t be what it sounded like.
But then Ethan spoke. “I’m glad you told me.”
My vision blurred, the edges of the room dimming. I stood there, frozen, listening to the echo of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
I didn’t hear what came next. Didn’t even want to.
Because nothing he could say after that would matter.
No explanation would soften the blow. The damage was already done, especially since I was already aware of how Sophie fit into his world more easily than I did.
She’d been born into it and looked the part with her straight blond hair and stick-thin figure. My complete opposite.
I stepped back slowly, careful not to make a sound. The legs felt unsteady as I turned away from the terrace doors and walked blindly down the hallway. The laughter and music from the ballroom blurred together, fading into a dull hum as I pushed through the crowd.
No one noticed me leave. Not even the man who’d promised to cherish me ‘til death do us part a little less than a year ago.
I slipped my phone from my clutch as I made my way to the club’s entrance. Walking outside, I requested a rideshare.
It took only five minutes for the car to arrive, but I barely noticed the time pass by. I felt empty. Hollowed out in a way that scared me more than any rush of tears could have.
When it pulled up to the curb, I climbed into the back seat without looking back at the glowing entrance behind me. As the street lights blurred past the window, I tried to come to terms with the mess that my marriage was.
I refused to beg for a man, not even the one I’d given my heart to. And I wouldn’t fight for scraps of reassurance. Not anymore.