Chapter 2
Every time I ended up in a fight with Betsy because of how close she was getting with them, Ryan would always play favorites. In the end, it was always me who had to apologize to Betsy, like I was the one at fault.
About two weeks ago, I needed to discuss something work-related with Ryan.
But the moment I walked in, I caught Ryan and Betsy stumbling out of the lounge, their clothes all rumpled.
Through the space between them, I could see the bed inside was a wreck, a clear sign something had happened in there.
And for the record, even as his actual wife, I wasn't allowed to set foot in that lounge, not even for a quick break.
I was frozen in place, anger bubbling up inside me, but I couldn't find the words to say.
Seeing my confused expression, Betsy gave a relaxed grin. "Don't take it the wrong way, Sherry. Mr. Willard's been working too hard, his back was sore, so I just gave him a massage, that's all."
I wanted to believe her, but the two of them were alone in a room, the bed a mess, their clothes all rumpled.
Who wouldn't jump to conclusions?
Afterward, I brought it up with Ryan, but I tried to be subtle about it.
I told him that he was a married man, so he should keep things professional with other women.
But Ryan just blew up at me.
He snapped, "What's that supposed to mean? I'm working my ass off every day, and Betsy was just being nice, giving me a massage. Why do you have to twist it like that?
"Is that all you ever think about? Nothing but dirty stuff, huh?"
I couldn't help but snap back.
"What do you think I mean? Just the two of you alone in a room, you really think that's appropriate?"
Ryan got even angrier, started throwing things around, and accused me of not trusting him. We ended up in a huge fight.
From the way Ryan acted, I couldn't help but feel he had something shady going on.
He wouldn't have gotten so defensive if there wasn't something he was trying to cover up.
The worst part was, I had no proof, and despite everything, I still had feelings for him.
So as the days went by, I kept acting like nothing had ever happened.
After the project finally went through, the day before I was supposed to head out for my business trip, the company threw a party to celebrate and send me off.
During the party, Betsy got completely drunk, and Ryan, my husband, didn't care about me at all. Instead, he parked himself right next to Betsy, playing the hero and taking drinks for her.
Everyone saw it, some laughing behind my back, but most just looked at me with sympathy.
I acted like I didn't see any of it, kept up the act, chatting and laughing with everyone like nothing was wrong.
Maybe it was because I kept turning a blind eye, but after the party, Ryan volunteered to take Betsy home, and he didn't come back the whole night.
When he finally showed up the next morning, he tried to explain, saying he'd just stayed over to look after her, nothing happened.
The hickey on his collar and the scratches covering his back were proof enough of whatever happened last night.
But I just pretended not to notice.
I tried to convince myself it was just mosquito bites.
But after everything that happened tonight, I felt like a total fool.
Again and again, I believed him. Again and again, I forgave him.
But instead of understanding, he just kept pushing the limits, getting worse every time.
He actually brought his side chick straight into our house.
That was the place I'd busted my ass for, just to buy it when we got married.
It was the home we built together, the place that was supposed to be just ours, a symbol of our love.
But he actually let another woman move in, right under our roof.
Even if I wanted to play dumb, there was no way I could convince myself they were just innocent.
From the start, all the way from dating to marriage, I was always the one who kept compromising.
After all, every relationship had its ups and downs, its share of fights and disagreements.
Someone had to compromise, someone had to back down.
Since he never would, I was always the one to do it.
But every time I compromised, he just kept pushing his luck.
In that case, I was done backing down.
I chose to leave.
Ryan and I met back in college.
He was a total campus celebrity.
His parents split up when he was little, so he grew up with just his mom.
Maybe because she was always busy with work, she never really disciplined him. She just showered him with money and material things.
That made him cocky, spoiled, and completely unreasonable. Honestly, hardly anyone wanted to get close to someone like him.
I was no exception.
Even the teachers dreaded dealing with him, so I definitely kept my distance.
But for some reason, maybe because I was the straight-A student everyone admired, Ryan started chasing after me.
He set his sights on me.
Every day, he'd try every trick in the book to get me to have dinner with him.
On weekends, he'd take me out cruising, and he never missed a holiday or special occasion without showing up with a gift.
I kept rejecting him, but he never gave up.
I finally asked him why he kept chasing after me.
He just shrugged and said, "Because you're a good person.
"Everyone else either looks down on me or is after my money. But you're different.
"I just want a normal friend, that's all."
For a moment, I caught a glimpse of loneliness in his eyes, and it made my heart ache for him.
I couldn't help but wonder maybe everyone had misunderstood him all along.