His Best Friend's Wife

by Ann Omasta

  I moved quickly through the messages, deleting numerous work questions without bothering to listen to them fully. I was confident that Dirk would have handled anything urgent in my absence.

  I hadn't realized that I was holding my breath until I heard Dirk's voice bellowing boldly through the speaker. "We need to talk. Call me back." His voicemail was simple and concise––no apologies or emotion. It irked me that he still felt like he could boss me around. When I did go back, concrete changes were in order.

  After buzzing through a few more messages, I sighed with relief when I finally heard Cassie's voice. "Reed, I'm so sorry." She sounded like she was crying, and it nearly ripped my heart out to hear her voice shake. "Please call me." She signed off, but I heard a sob escape her throat before she clicked the button.

  I wasn't ready for this. Silencing the phone, I slid down to sit on the floor. Just hearing her voice had me ready to rush back to her, grappling for any sliver of attention that she would toss in my direction. I wasn't strong enough to face them yet, knowing how they had used me. The fact that Cassie had been willing to play me that way––at Dirk's request––made me feel physically ill. I didn't feel ready to forgive and forget. I didn't know if I ever would be.

  Curling into myself, I fell asleep on the floor and awoke feeling stiff and sore. My bones popped and cracked as I stood up. In the shower, I decided to make today a fresh, new start.

  Since I had the morning off, I made the most of it by exploring the town that had soothed my aching heart the past few weeks. I walked past the quaint storefronts with no desire to visit the vast majority of them. A painting prominently displayed in the front window of the art gallery had me stopping in my steps, though.

  The woman in the painting was pleasuring herself. The brush strokes had been done in an abstract manner, so the subject could be almost anyone. I, of course, saw Cassie.

  "It's not for sale," the words startled me out of my reverie because I hadn't noticed the man beside me, who was also staring at the phenomenal piece of art.

  "Oh, that's too bad. It reminds me of someone I know." I had no idea why I would reveal such an intimate detail to a total stranger, but it was out there now.

  "Really?" he gushed, and my head jerked back at his overly enthusiastic reaction. Sensing my apprehension, he held out a hand to shake mine. "Sorry, man, didn't mean to scare you. I'm Ethan Drake, the artist. This particular painting is the work I am most proud of, so it's great to have the validation of hearing that it speaks to someone else too. I was really nervous about showing it."

  I'd never met an artist, so I wasn't sure what to say to the man. I certainly wasn't an art connoisseur, so whatever I said would probably fall flat. He seemed to be waiting for me to respond, so I finally went with, "She's lovely."

  "That she is," he beamed at his painting, obviously proud of it. "Too bad she's married," he added, surprising me. At my raised brow, he clarified, "She's my neighbor. When I stumbled upon the pleasure of seeing that," he tilted his head towards the painting of the woman touching herself, "I had to set it to canvas."

  I nodded, understanding. He went on, gazing at his masterpiece and seeming lost in his own thoughts. "It seems like the forbidden fruit is always the most tempting."

  Shocked by how much this man's longing for the one woman he couldn't have mirrored my own situation, I answered, "You've got that right."

  Wondering why we always want what we can't have, I left him there staring at the painted image of his Cassie.

  14

  The knock on my door startled me. No one ever visited me. Jamie and I were tentatively friends again as we struggled to move past the awkwardness I had accidentally caused in our relationship. The shaky ground we were on made me fairly certain that she wouldn't show up on my doorstep at 10:30 at night.

  When I flung the door open, I was surprised to see that it was Jamie on the other side. The strained expression on her face told me that whatever she had to say was uncomfortable. "There's someone named Cassandra here to see you." She spat out the name, like it was poisonous. I knew that, despite the more formal version of the name, she must realize exactly who this woman was.

  "It's fine," I nodded at Jamie, so she reluctantly moved aside to usher Cassie out of the shadows and up to my front door.

  The sight of Cassie nearly knocked the wind out of me. She was so lovely––even more impossibly beautiful than I remembered––yet there was a drawn, tired look to her face as well. She was also incredibly pale, like she'd just suffered through a nasty bout of the flu.

  She looked peaked, as if she had endured a rough couple of weeks. I immediately wondered if Dirk had turned on her––blaming her for sleeping with me, even though it had been at his insistence. I wouldn't put it past him to be angry with her for doing what he thought he wanted.

  "Hi," she muttered under her breath, sounding almost bashful. She kept her gaze averted like she was ashamed to make eye contact with me.

  My first instinct was to pull her into my arms to comfort her and soothe her pain, but I forced myself to hold back by replaying in my mind how she had betrayed and used me. The love I felt for her hadn't waned at all, despite my significant efforts to get over her.

  Jamie was hanging back, seeming uncertain what to do. I knew it wasn't fair to make her see the heartbroken, longing way I gazed at Cassie––despite my best efforts to the contrary. "Thanks, Jamie." I tried to infuse my voice with gratitude that she cared, even as I dismissed her from the uncomfortable situation.

  Taking the hint, Jamie stammered awkwardly, "Okay, then. Ya'll have nice evening."

  Even as annoyed and hurt as she must have been, her natural southern manners and hospitality still shone through. "Night," I called after her as she quickly shuffled into her side of the house and closed her front door.

  "She's pretty." Cassie commented, letting the unasked question about the nature of my relationship with my landlord hang in the air between us.

  Deciding she had no right to ask about or comment on my love life (or lack thereof), I responded with a noncommittal, "Yep," and left it at that.

  I stood to the side of my open door, silently inviting her to step inside. Cassie walked into my apartment, but immediately found her way to the open window in my living room. It was pitch black outside, but the rhythmic crash of the waves rolling into shore filled the room. "It must be wonderful to live here. I've always loved hearing the soothing sounds of the ocean," she revealed dreamily, seeming lost in thought.

  Not willing to engage in small talk, I brought her back to the here and now. "What are you doing here?" I asked her rather crassly.

  She turned to me then and the look in her eyes was so filled with hope that I almost cracked and ran to her. Gathering my resolve, I glared back at her. "I couldn't stay away," she revealed, her voice cracking. "I've been looking for you since you left."

  "How did you find me?" I wondered aloud.

  "We activated 'Find My Phone' after that time I lost my cell, remember? Dirk was so angry with me for being irresponsible and losing it. After I found it, we got the app, and you said we could be each other's phone buddy." She gazed up at me like I was some kind of savior, "You said you would always be there for me. Well, I need you now," she revealed sadly.

  Not willing to let go of my simmering anger so easily, I retorted, "That was before you used me to get a sperm injection." Referring to our night of passionate lovemaking so callously made me physically wince, especially knowing that the sterile terminology accurately reflected how she must look at it.

  She chose to ignore my rude statement. "I checked in everyday, hoping that you had turned your phone back on. I was so excited when you did that I got in the car and drove straight here," she revealed.

  I wondered why she would go to so much effort to see the man she had so blatantly used at her husband's request, but I didn't get the chance to ask. She had tears in her eyes, which made my heart melt, as she said, "I couldn't wait to see you...to apologize to
you. I'm so sorry."

  She sounded sincere. I wanted to stay angry. I felt the urge to clutch the bitterness filling my heart and never let it go. When I looked into Cassie's eyes, though, I knew I didn't have the power to stay mad at her. No matter what she did, I would probably always forgive her. My feelings for her were that irrational and overpowering.

  Still clinging to the last vestiges of my self-righteous bitterness, I said, "You should be sorry. You used me and toyed with my heart. And it was all for him." I glared at her as I said the last word. Knowing that she had came to me for Dirk was the ultimate bitter pill to swallow. That was what hurt the most.

  "I did," she admitted sadly.

  Hearing her confess the truth was like a serrated knife slicing through a barely healed wound. The pain was almost unbearable. Even though I had known the truth, having it come directly from her mouth caused fresh pain to blister across my chest. I had to force myself to stand tall, refusing to double over from the torture of it.

  I tried to swallow around the grapefruit that had formed in my throat. I wanted to tell her to go, but I was afraid to speak––fearful that my voice would waver with embarrassing unshed tears. The last thing I needed was to shame myself by crying like a sissy in front of the woman I loved. I had to look away from her, feebly attempting to regain my composure.

  "If I could take it back, I would." Her words were like a hard jab to my gut. Even as much pain as it had caused me, I wouldn't take back our night of passion for anything in the world. It had been the absolute best night of my life, and I wouldn't change one moment of it.

  She must have seen the injured look in my eyes because she amended her statement. "I would only take back the reason it happened, not the fact that it happened. Our night together was phenomenal."

  Thrilled by her admission that she had enjoyed our affair, I couldn't keep the hope out of my gaze as I peered at her.

  Seeing my look, she tentatively smiled at me for the first time since her arrival. "It was beyond phenomenal," she added before revealing, "It was easily one of the best nights of my life."

  I would have preferred hearing it was the best night of her life, but I still gladly took her revelation as a compliment. She had said as much during our night together, but people couldn't be held to statements made during the throes of passion or immediately afterwards.

  As I pondered it, I couldn't help but wonder what Dirk would think about the fact that my sexual prowess had ranked as one of her best nights, despite the numerous years of nights she had spent with him. My bet was that this tidbit of information would have him fuming with fury. I couldn't deny that the thought made me happy. After all, the man had sent her to me with instructions to seduce me. He deserved to have that plan backfire on him.

  She came to me then. The ocean's breeze was wafting in through the open window, blowing her hair out behind her like a supermodel's. The warmth of her body was mere fractions of an inch from mine. My dick swelled, immediately reacting to her nearness.

  Looking deep into my eyes, she admitted, "I enjoyed our night together so much because some deeply buried side of me wanted it to happen, Reed."

  My heart soared at this news. My plan had been to clutch my bitterness and anger, but she was making it incredibly challenging to do so. Biting my tongue, I waited for her to continue.

  "I've always felt a special connection with you. I attempted to convince myself it was just friendship, but now there is no denying that there is a spark of something much more than that."

  It was exactly what I wanted to hear from her, but I stubbornly refused to speak and let her off the hook that easily. Besides, I was enjoying her admission. Did I dare allow myself to believe her? Was this another trick?

  That last thought sliced through me and had my stomach revolting in icy panic. If Dirk had sent her back for more of my sperm, I didn't think I could ever forgive either one of them. Voicing my fear, I gave her what had to be a pained expression. "The first insemination didn't take, huh? So, he sent you back for another donation." My voice was almost unrecognizable as it dripped with the stunning accusation.

  I didn't want to believe that my guess was the truth or that they could be so callous, but they had done it to me once. There was a saying about fooling me twice bringing shame on me. Well, I refused to play their fool. Again.

  Cassie looked truly taken aback by my accusatory tone. She shook her head, tears pooling in her lower lids and threatening to spill over. "No, that's not it at all," she denied as the first tear blazed a trail down her cheek. "You don't understand," she looked up at me with a gaze that could only be described as pleading.

  When she spoke, I couldn't do anything but watch her. She was so lovely, and I so wanted to believe that her words were true.

  "I realized the night that Dirk sent me to you that I had chosen the wrong man to marry," she revealed. "If I was with you, you would never send me to be with someone else."

  "Umm, no." If Cassie were mine, I would never let her go––no matter what the circumstances.

  She went on as if I hadn't spoken. "Not only does Dirk cheat on me all the time, but then he sends me to seduce my way into another man's bed!?! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

  As much as I cared about Cassie, I suddenly realized that I had been completely selfish in my reaction to this situation. I had failed to think about it at all from her perspective. She must feel used and abandoned by both Dirk and myself. Guilt simmered in my belly over my part in this fiasco.

  "It makes me feel like a whore, like my body is the only thing that matters, and like I deserved to be taken advantage of," she revealed, looking down at the ground as if she were ashamed.

  I lifted her chin. "None of those things are true." I told her adamantly. "I value you as a person. As much as I adore your body, you are so much more than a sexual conquest to me." I tried to inject some of my overflowing feelings for her into my words. I hated the downcast look of shame in her eyes and cursed myself for my part in putting it there. Did she feel like I had taken advantage of her?

  She looked up at me then, a glimmer of hope shimmering in her gaze. "You don't hate me and think I'm a horrible person for agreeing to Dirk's plan?"

  I thought about my answer for a moment. I probably should hate her for deceiving me the way she had, but I just didn't have it in me. "No, I could never hate you," I told her honestly.

  "I knew you were the one I should have chosen." She leaned in to press her lips against mine.

  It took every ounce of willpower I could muster, but I lifted a palm to her shoulder and pushed her back. The fear that Dirk had sent her again made me feel queasy as I tried to quell it. I'd been too shocked and hurt by her previous betrayal to ignore the very real possibility that this might be a repeat performance.

  Through gritted teeth I asked her, "Did he send you to seduce me again? Are you just after my semen?" It was agonizing to even utter the questions, but I had to know.

  Cassie looked like I had cut her to the quick. The shock, anger, hurt feelings, and guilt swirled into an almost unrecognizable mask on her face. "No," she blurted out on a sob, a fresh stream of tears falling, before she turned away from me.

  She was facing the window, so I had a hard time understanding her next shocking statement. I knew what I thought I heard, but it wasn't quite computing, so I asked her to repeat it.

  This time I was sure I heard her say, "I'm already pregnant."

  15

  "You are?" An odd mixture of excitement, dread, and overpowering love swirled through my confused brain.

  She turned back to face me then before giving me a brief, confirming nod.

  I felt like my knees were going to buckle, but I had to know. "Is it mine?" I held my breath as I waited for her response.

  She couldn't hide the pained look that crossed her face, but she quickly recovered and answered me. "Dirk is sterile, and I haven't been with anyone else, so..."

  "It's mine." I finished her dangling statement i
n a feeble attempt to make my brain process what she was telling me. I had never given any serious thought to becoming a father before, so the idea that it was now a reality felt overwhelming. The swirling emotions of fear, anticipation and excitement curled together in a knot in my stomach.

  "I'm going to be a father," I sounded dumb, but it was as if my brain couldn't comprehend the idea. Suddenly, the harsh reality of the situation sank in. "Dirk's going to be a father." The realization made me feel like I was going to vomit. I had to turn away from Cassie to hide my pained expression.

  Dirk had won. Again. Even though I knew that I could force them to have paternity testing and take them to court for partial custody of my child, I wouldn't be able to put Cassie through that. She probably deserved it for tricking me the way she had, but my feelings for her couldn't be squelched. Even now, with the knowledge of how she had used me, it was all I could do to keep from wrapping her in my arms. She had some strange magnetic pull that I could not deny, even when I knew it wasn't in my best interest.

  Cassie moved around so that we were facing each other. Placing her palm against my cheek, she said, "You are going to be a father. This is your child, and I want you to be a part of its life, no matter how you feel about me."

  I felt stunned by her words. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

  Unfazed by my carp-like expression, Cassie went on. "Dirk doesn't deserve to be this baby's father. He manipulated both of us to get what he wanted." She paused, tucking a misbehaving brunette lock of hair behind her ear. Looking away and trying to blink the tears back, she went on. "He sent me to have sex with another man."

  I wanted to comfort her, but I was the other man. She had been forced by her husband to be with me. Did my touch repulse her? The fear that she had never wanted me at all held me back from reaching out to her.

  "Little did he know how much I would enjoy the emotional connection of sleeping with you." Her laugh sounded strained as she worked to stave off the crying.