His Wife

I blinked. Me?

“What does that even mean?” I asked, furrowing my brow. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or afraid.

He gave me a look that made my heart twist, something intense and curious in his gaze, like he was trying to figure me out just as much as I was trying to understand him.

“I’ve heard of you,” he said slowly.

I narrowed my eyes, signalling for him to keep going. “What do you mean you’ve heard of me?”

“I was curious to know what kind of woman you were,” he said, almost absentmindedly, like he was remembering something. “And when I met you…” He paused, pulling in his bottom lip between his teeth before letting it go. His eyes returned to mine.

“I have to admit....you’re even more than I expected.”

The way he said it, I could tell he meant every word. No hesitation. No flirtation for the sake of it. Just pure, unapologetic honesty.

“I wasn’t prepared for you,” he said softly. “But everything about you feels real. Strong. Hurt, yes, but beautiful.”

I swallowed, hard. The words landed deeper than I wanted them to. I didn’t know how to react, how to answer him. So I didn’t.

And then he added the one thing that made my breath catch.

“And for that…” he said, voice just above a whisper, “I’d do everything to protect that beauty.”

The room felt still. The wine in my hand was forgotten. I was no longer the woman who had been left, who had cried, who had nowhere to go. In his eyes, I was someone worth fighting for.

And God help me… I wanted to believe him.

But I couldn’t.

Not that easily.

Not automatically.

It just didn’t work that way.

I scoffed, shaking my head as if his words could just roll off me. They couldn’t. They settled deep, too deep.

“You don’t believe me?” Marcus asked, clearly surprised.

I looked at him, exhaling slowly. “I don’t think being beautiful is everything,” I said quietly.

“It’s not just your beauty, Monique,” he replied, leaning forward slightly. “I got to spend time with you. Real time. And not to run around in circles, let me be honest. I’m very interested in you.”

That stopped me.

Right there.

My heart rang so loud it echoed in my chest.

“What… what do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He looked at me like he had nothing to lose.

“What I mean is, if we had met somewhere else, under normal circumstances... I wouldn’t have thought twice about asking you out on a date. I wouldn’t have hesitated to say I wanted to be with you for life... Because that’s what I want. Marriage. A future.”

I felt my throat dry up, my thoughts too full to hold still. I picked up my wine, taking a sip just to buy time, to anchor myself in something, anything.

“I don’t think that’s true,” I said, eyes focused on the floor. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not.”

I turned my face away, unable to bear the sincerity in his tone.

“Monique,” he said again, gently this time. “Look at me. Look into my eyes. I want you to see that I mean this.”

But I couldn’t. I didn’t believe him. Because if what he said was true, then Ryan would have loved me. Then Ryan would have been the man I believed he was.

Then… we’d still be married. We would still be us and we would be happy.

“If that were true,” I said, my voice trembling, “then Ryan would love me. He wouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t have betrayed me. We’d still be happy. We’d still be something.”

Tears pressed hard behind my eyes. I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him.

But even as I held them in, the ache inside me grew. I wanted to believe Marcus. I really did. But belief doesn’t come easy to a heart that’s been broken.

Marcus couldn’t bear the look on my face. He stood and walked over, sitting next to me without a word, then gently took my hand in his.

“Listen to me, Monique,” he said softly, but with strength behind every word. “Nothing about what Ryan did has anything to do with you. He is just a bad, ugly person.... and so are the Bennetts. The whole lot of them.”

I blinked, looking at him, caught off guard by the fire in his voice.

“Do not feel bad and start doubting yourself just because of him. Just because of what somebody else did,” he went on. “I’m telling you right now... you are the prize. You are a rare gem. And Ryan? Ryan played with his luck. And I’m not going to let him taint you. Not your confidence, not your pride… and definitely not your heart.”

He paused, locking eyes with me, his grip on my hand tightening just a little.

“He thinks he broke you,” he said, “but he hasn’t. He hasn’t even come close. And if you give me a chance, Monique… I promise I won’t play with that luck. Because you? You’re not one in a million, you’re one in a galaxy. You made me believe in something real. You made me feel a love that starts from the bottom of my heart.”

I stared at him, wide-eyed, stunned silent.

And then… I laughed. It was soft at first. Just a breath. But it grew into a laugh that shook my shoulders.

“You really have a way with words,” I said, smiling.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and honest, so serious that it made me laugh even harder.

Because somehow, in the middle of the pain, this moment felt like sunlight. And I didn’t know where it was going. But for once, I wasn’t afraid to find out.

"So," he said quietly, "what do you say?"

His voice was calm, but there was something weighty beneath it. Like he was bracing himself.

"About what?" I asked hesitantly... Afraid of what that question might be.

"Do you still consider yourself Ryan's? Are you still his wife?"