I felt my face flush hot again and diverted my eyes to my desk. I mindlessly shuffled paperwork and tried to come up with an excuse for myself.
“Fine, maybe I’ve gotten a little carried away,” I relented. “I’ve flirted a little. But it’s still completely innocent.” I swallowed hard. “I love Ben. We have a future together. The attention from Ethan is exciting and flattering, but it will pass. He’s a celebrity, for Christ’s sake. It’s only a matter of time before he hooks up with a cheerleader or a pop star and forgets all about me.”
“So you’re just enjoying the attention while it lasts?” she pressed. I could tell she still didn’t believe me.
“That’s the plan,” I agreed.
That wasn’t entirely true. My rational mind understood that the flirty back and forth banter between Ethan and me was temporary. But my heart was starting to get attached to his entertaining, often thoughtful messages.
“All right,” Linda said. She let out another long sigh and rose to her feet. “Just be careful, Emily. You’re walking a thin line with this. I don’t think you and Ben belong together. But if you’re sure that’s what you want, you need to cut things off with the quarterback and delete all of his messages. Think of how Ben would feel if he found out about this.”
A heavy weight of anxiety gripped my heart. I knew she was right, and I felt terrible for keeping such an enormous secret from Ben… just not terrible enough to stop.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, Em,” she called over her shoulder.
“I know,” I called back as she stepped through the door.
I pulled out my phone again and reread Ethan’s message.
Eating at the diner tonight. Care to join me?
I fired off a quick message turning down his offer and then turned my phone off completely.
Linda’s right. I need to put a stop to this. Flirting with Ethan has been fun, but there’s no future there. I want someone who’s happy with a quiet life, someone who comes home every night. Ben can give that to me. He’ll always be there when I need him.
I slid my phone into my purse, gathered the rest of my things, and set off for the parking lot. I needed to assuage my guilt and decided that surprising Ben with his favorite meal was a great place to start. I drove home, took a quick shower, and spent an hour curling my hair the way Ben liked it. I slipped into my sexiest pair of skinny jeans, pulled on a deep V-neck t-shirt, and brushed on a light layer of makeup before leaving for the market.
Ben was working at the Boys’ Club until seven; I knew he would be tired and wanted everything to be perfect for him when he got home. I hurried through the market, gathering fresh produce, thick cut ribeye steaks, and two different types of red wine. As a last minute impulse, I tossed an already made cheesecake into the cart and proceeded to the register. A few minutes and forty dollars later, I loaded my bags into the back of my car and made my way to Ben’s place.
Ben lived in a large, generic looking apartment complex close to The Day School. With first-come, first-served parking, I was rarely able to park anywhere close. But that night, I got lucky and found an empty spot just steps away from his front door. I found my key to the apartment on my ring, loaded my arms with grocery bags, and decided to make a second trip to carry in the wine.
I unlocked the front door, flipped on the lights, and continued on to Ben’s small galley kitchen. I set the bags down on the countertop and heard a soft, muffled noise from the bedroom.
What the hell? He was supposed to be at practice until seven. I hope he isn’t sick.
“Baby?” I called out, padding down the hallway.
I heard a loud thud, followed by silence.
What the fuck?
I took hold of the doorknob, but it refused to turn. A blend of confusion, fear, and rage grew in my chest and I pounded on the door.
“Ben, are you okay? Why is the door locked? Are you—”
The door opened and my worst fears were realized. Ben stood before me wearing nothing but a guilty scowl. My eyes moved from him to the redhead, half covered by the blankets. She looked at me with an evil, triumphant grin and leaned back on a pillow.
“Emily, I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” he stammered.
“So you did plan for me to find out,” I countered, my voice flat. I was in too much shock to feel anything and reached for the wall for support.
“No… I mean, yes. I mean… I think we’ve both known this was coming. We fit on paper, Em. But the spark just isn’t there.”
“How long has this been going on?” I pressed, the weight of the moment starting to sink in. Tears stung my eyes and I bit the corner of my mouth, determined to hold myself together to whatever degree possible.
“Ben and I—”
“I didn’t ask you,” I snapped, turning back to the redhead. I gritted my teeth when she smirked again, lifting her nose into the air. I spun on my heel and stormed back to the kitchen. I started pulling things out of the grocery bags and slamming them on the counter. Ben appeared a few moments later wearing a pair of boxers. He seemed alarmed by my quick, violent movements and stayed a few feet away from me.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his tone cautious.
“I thought it would be nice to have dinner together,” I explained, slamming a jar of artichoke hearts onto the counter. “But as I no longer have an appetite, I thought I’d just leave this here for you and your whore.”
“Emily, I’m so sorry. I know you’re upset. But Becky isn’t a—”
“Don’t you dare defend her,” I growled. “Don’t defend yourself either. My uncle was right about you. You’re nothing but a lying, cheating bastard. I recognize your precious Becky. It’s bad enough that you’re having an affair. But did you really have to screw one of the football moms? Does her husband know what the two of you have been up to?”
“Becky and Sean separated eight months ago. Their divorce is supposed to be finalized next week. I know you’re hurt, Emily. As hard as it may be to believe, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. If I knew you were planning to surprise me tonight—”
I turned to him, my hands on my hips. Rage was winning out over all of my other emotions, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to knee Ben in the balls.
“What?” I spat. “If you’d known I was coming, you would have screwed your MILF somewhere else?”
He sighed and looked down to the worn tile floor. “I… I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
I couldn’t be in the apartment another minute. I slung my purse over my shoulder and pushed past Ben, storming toward the front door.
“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, if I never hear your voice again, I’ll die happy.” I paused long enough to pull his key off my ring, tossed it over my shoulder, and slammed the door behind me.
I dove into my car and peeled out of the parking lot, trying to outrace my heartache. I failed and pulled over at a home goods store. Killing the engine, I let my tears overtake me. I mourned the loss of the future I’d planned so carefully and tried to figure out where everything had gone wrong. How long had Ben been sleeping with Becky? Was she the first, or just the latest in a string of his conquests? I knew I was probably better off not learning the answers.