Who Did This

A pair of green eyes met mine. Not just green—grass green, calm and grounding. Not too bright, but just enough to hold me there longer than necessary.

“Are you alright, precious?”

His voice was warm, deep, masculine. My eyes dropped to his mouth, and that’s when I realized I was staring.

I blinked, pulling myself together. “Yes. I’m fine... thank you.”

I smoothed my clothes and patted my hair into place.

“I’m sorry,” I added quickly. “I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

The man smirked—not unkindly. He seemed amused for some reason.

I had never seen him before, and he didn’t look familiar enough for me to think he was related to the Bennet family.

But then again, after what I had just found out about my husband, what did I really know about the Bennets?

The man standing in front of me was very good-looking. He wore a dark grey suit with a red tie, and his hair was neatly styled—combed higher on the top, lower on the sides. Everything about him was put together, sharp, and classy.

Then there were his eyes, amazing eyes that somehow complimented his suit. And that smirk. That damn smirk. He wore it so easily and he screamed trouble from a mile away.

He was tall and muscular—the perfect definition of a hot guy. A very hot guy. In fact, too handsome for my liking. The kind of man I would never be caught dating.

But watching? Well… I gotta fully functional pair of eyes.

He smirked again, and that’s when it hit me—I had been checking him out. I quickly cleared my throat and shook my head, trying to regain composure.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I said, my voice low as I turned and started walking away.

But before I could leave, he caught my arm. I spun slightly, ready to ask him what his problem was, but then I noticed something. He wasn’t looking at me.

He was looking at my arm.

I followed his gaze, and that’s when I saw it, Ryan had left his fingerprints on my skin. His grip had been too tight. Angry red marks circled my arm like bruises.

The stranger’s expression changed as he stared at the marks. He looked up at me but didn’t speak immediately. No—he gritted out the words, low and heavy.

“Who did this to you?”

There was something in the way he asked that question, something that made me pause for a second.

The way he looked at my arm. The way his jaw tightened. The grinding of his teeth. He wasn’t just upset.

No. He was angry. Very, very angry. Absolutely furious.

I pulled my hand away from him.

“It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Nothing to worry about.”

But he didn’t let go.

He took my hand again, firmly this time—not hard enough to hurt, but not so lightly that I could pull away. His eyes stayed locked on the red welts that had formed on my skin.

And then… he caressed them. Softly. Gently. As if he were afraid even the slightest touch might cause me pain.

“It’s not so bad,” I told him, trying to reassure him.

He didn’t respond. He just kept his eyes on my arm, his thumb brushing over the marks like he could erase them somehow.

“He didn’t mean to,” I added, my voice quieter now. “It was an accident. He didn’t know how hard he was holding me.”

He scoffed—sharp and low.

“Is that what he told you?” he asked mockingly. But he wasn’t looking at me. He was still staring at my hand.

“No,” I replied. “He didn’t have to. I could see… he was just upset. He’s never done this before. It’s because we had an argument.”

That’s when he looked at me—really looked at me.

“If this,” he said, lifting my hand slightly, “is what happens when you have a little disagreement.... I wonder what he’ll do to you when you have a real fight?”

His eyes searched mine, pleading, maybe, or warning me. Hoping I’ll understand. But also afraid I wouldn’t.

“Ryan’s not like that,” I said firmly. “It’s just a misunderstanding. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Ryan?” he asked, a shift in his tone.

“Yes. Ryan Bennet. My husband,” I answered, straightening myself, pulling my hand away successfully this time.

He didn’t try to take it back.

“You’re Ryan’s wife?” he asked, his voice edged with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Yes,” I said, trying to stay composed. “Do you know with him?”

He shook his head slowly, a humourless smile on his lips.

“That little prick,” he muttered. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“What?” I asked, surprised. I wasn't expecting those words to come out of this stranger’s mouth.

“No. You can’t,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Like I said, he is my husband, and this was just a little misunderstanding. Everything’s gonna be fine. This will soon be a thing of the past. I’m gonna be back with my husband, and we’re going to be happy again.”

This time, the man chuckled.

“If you’re that sure about your husband… Ryan,” he said his name like it tasted bitter, “then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be off living your happily ever after with him?”

I hesitated, my lips parting but no words coming out fast enough.

“It’s none of your business,” I muttered. "I am just here to see my in-laws. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He shook his head slowly, a look of pity—or was it frustration?—on his face.

“You’re too kind for this world,” he said. “You trust too easily. And you trusted the wrong people.”

He turned his head toward the house, nodding once.

“Nobody—and I mean absolutely nobody—in that house is on your side.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing. Confusion twisted inside me because… how did he already seem to know why I was there?

“Nobody in that house is going to help you, Monique.”

I stiffened. “You know my name?”

He gave a slight smile. “You’re Ryan’s wife. That’s how I know your name.”

“And who are you? How do you know Ryan?”

“It’s not important. Not right now,” he said, his tone shifting.

“But,” he added, reaching into his wallet, “when you get the answers you’re looking for from that house… and when you’re ready to move on, or maybe even get a little payback for what Ryan did…”

He handed me a card.

“Here’s my number.”

I took the card with trembling hands.

“Call me when you’re ready to be liberated,” he said. Then, without warning, he leaned down and kissed my hand, exactly on top of the hand marks. Soft, almost respectful—and turned to walk away.

For some reason, I didn’t throw the card away. I didn’t even hesitate. I just slipped it into my pocket, took a deep breath, and turned toward the Bennett's house.

I walked up the steps, knocked on the door, and waited.

A few moments later, the maid opened the door for me. I stepped inside.

Almost the entire family was there—Mr. Bennett, Ryan’s father; Mrs. Bennett, his mother; and Lydia, Ryan’s sister. They all turned toward me as I entered, watching in silence as I walked into the room.

The moment my eyes met Mrs Bennett’s, I couldn't hold it in. I ran toward her and collapsed into her arms, the tears pouring as I broke down completely.

She wrapped her arms around me, her voice soft with concern.

“When did you get back? I thought you were supposed to be away.”

I sniffled, trying to catch my breath between sobs.

“I just came in this evening. And you… you won’t believe what happened. What I found in my house.”

“What happened?” she asked gently.

The tears wouldn’t stop.

“It’s Ryan. He’s cheating,” I whispered. “He’s been cheating on me for years. He brought his mistress into our house. He has a four-year-old daughter…”