Chapter 2

Two days later, Jenny insisted on throwing me a "welcome home" party. I knew it was a terrible idea, but I was too numb to fight it. When I walked into our living room, it wasn't filled with our close friends. It was a networking event. Clients, potential investors, and at the center of it all, smiling and shaking hands, was Wes Todd.

Jenny, beaming, pulled me over.

"Everyone, I want you to meet my wonderful friend, Wes," she announced to a group of our most important clients. "He's joining our firm as a special consultant. His insights are going to be invaluable."

Wes extended a hand to me, a smug look in his eyes. "Good to have you back, Brian. We've been holding down the fort."

The "we" hit me like a physical blow. He was positioning himself not just in our firm, but in our life, in our home. Throughout the party, he was a shadow at Jenny's side, his hand resting on the small of her back, a possessive gesture for all to see. He was marking his territory.

Later, Jenny raised a glass of champagne. "A toast! To Brian's return, and to new partnerships!"

She tried to hand me a glass.

"You know I don't drink, Jenny." My voice was low, tight. I was a recovering alcoholic, a fact she knew better than anyone. It was a battle I fought every single day.

Her face flushed with anger. "Don't be petty, Brian. It's a toast. Don't embarrass me in front of everyone."

"Embarrass you?" I couldn't believe it. I set the glass down on a nearby table, my hand shaking with a mix of rage and hurt. I turned and walked out the back door, needing air.

I wasn't out there for more than a minute before he followed me into the parking lot.

"She's something, isn't she?" Wes said, his voice dripping with condescension. "So loyal."

I ignored him, staring out at the dark street.

"You know, she screams your name sometimes," he continued, his voice dropping to a lewd whisper. "Right there, in your bed. It's pretty hot."

Something inside me snapped. The control I'd held onto for years just shattered. I turned and my fist connected with his jaw. The crack of bone was satisfyingly loud. He stumbled back, shock and pain on his face.

I was ready to hit him again, but suddenly Jenny was there.

"Brian! What are you doing?!"

She didn't wait for an answer. Her hand flew across my face. The slap was sharp, stinging. It wasn't the pain that shocked me, but the look in her eyes. Pure, undiluted fury, all of it directed at me.

She rushed to Wes's side, helping him up, cradling his head. "Are you okay, Wes? Oh my god, he's a monster."

She looked back at me, her face twisted with disgust. "You're a violent, jealous drunk. I can't believe you."

She sided with him. Completely. Without a moment's hesitation. In that instant, I knew my marriage wasn't just broken. It was dead and buried.