"The conference?" I parrot back as I pull free of Parker. I walk towards the door of the apartment with every hope that my knees won't buckle beneath the weight of my emotions. "There is no conference. I was at the hotel you said you'd be at and there was nothing. No one knew about any conference." The righteous indignation in my tone is unmistakable. I admit I'm taking pleasure in pushing Ben into a corner with his lies.
"It's informal. I'm meeting several other doctors in that hotel. You can find me there until five today. It's on the sixth floor in room nineteen." His voice doesn't waver as he offers the pointed details. "After that, I'll be at my condo for the night. I'll text you the address."
"I already have it," I snap back through a muted cry as I turn to face him.
"I'll be waiting to hear from you." His voice is soft as his lips graze my ear. "I know this looks bad, Kayla, but everything I've done is for you."
I swipe at a wayward tear falling down my cheek. This is all so much. Trying to absorb everything that's happened in the last thirty minutes is impossible. "Everything you've done is so you could get Noah back into your life."
"No," he says tightly as he reaches for the doorknob. "This is not about Noah. All I care about is you."
"I'm going to tell him." I glance over my shoulder to where Parker is still standing a few feet away from us. I suddenly wonder how much he knows about the fractured relationship between Ben and his brother. "I'm here in Boston because Noah asked me to talk to you. I have to tell him about this."
His face is impassive as he leans down to brush his lips over my forehead. "Do what you need to do, Kayla. I want you to come out of this in one piece. Do whatever it takes to make that happen. Nothing else matters to me."
Chapter 2
"I think I knew." I reach to grab the arm of the chair before I lower myself down onto the cushion. "It was the only thing that made sense to me, Parker."
He settles on the edge of the matching chair across from me. "I wasn't man enough to tell you at the time. It's not important anymore."
I study his face, soaking in the strong line of his jaw and the curve of his nose. He hasn't changed much since we first met in high school, seven years ago when he was only seventeen. The boyish glint that was always ever present in his eyes is fleeting now. It's lost completely in this moment, replaced by something that mirrors regret. Maybe it's shame or guilt.
I wipe away the last of my tears with the tissue Parker had brought back with him when he went to get me a bottle of water from the kitchen. We'd stood in silence after Ben had left both of us cautiously uncertain of how to begin talking about our failed relationship and what our futures hold.
"Who is she?" It's a question that has been poised at the edge of my tongue since the night he left. Back then, I didn't want to voice my belief that he was leaving me for someone else. He'd worked tirelessly to get me back into his bed in Boston. The notion that he'd throw all of that to the wayside to pursue someone else didn't fit. Now, looking back, I can't be certain that it wasn't just my self-esteem quieting my better judgment. The sensible parts of my heart knew there was someone else. He was too careless with me for it to be anything but that.
"Kayla." He throws his head back with a groan. "Does it even matter anymore? It's over."
He doesn't want it to matter but his decision to leave me for another woman changed my life completely. "I want to know."
"I met her at work." It's a start and judging by the endless pause that follows the words, it's where he wants this discussion to end.
"When?" I ask the question with no emotion. When I was sitting at the gate at the airport weeks ago waiting to board the flight that took me back to New York, I would have given anything for an honest answer to that question. They say that a woman's intuition is never wrong and mine knew, even if I chose to ignore it, that Parker was racing from the bed he shared with me into someone else's.
He scratches the back of his head, his eyes jumping from my face to the wall behind me. "It was before you moved back to Boston."
The words slice through me like a razor sharp edge. "You met her before I came back?"
"Baby," he begins before he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I was really mixed up back then."
"Did you want her when you begged me to move back to Boston to be with you?" I ask because my mind wants the answer, even if my heart doesn't feel anything when the question leaves my mouth.
He closes his eyes briefly and I see the answer there, in the silent pause. "She had a boyfriend back then."