Everything She Built

4

Rachel's POV

I couldn’t breathe, I couldn't even think.

It was like the room was moving. Owen's moans of pleasure sounded like screams in my ears.

My vision was blurred. I stumbled backward. I couldn't make a sound. I couldn't do anything except watch them. I watched her hips roll against him, watched him grip her waist like he was holding onto a lifeline. She moaned, throwing her head back.

I pressed my palms to my ears. Before I could see her face, a voice said, “Excuse me.”

I turned, just as a waiter shut the door. “You're not supposed to be here,” he said, wearing a tight smile.

I opened my mouth to talk. Nothing came out. Someone grabbed my arm and I was startled.

“Rachel. Rachel, look at me,” Jackson said in a low voice.

I couldn't look at him. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them. I was transfixed.

“Rachel.” He pulled me back, away from the door. “You need to breathe. Come on, breathe with me.”

Jackson's eyes widened. Then his jaw tightened. "We're leaving. Now."

He led me down the hallway. My legs moved, but I didn't feel anything. The waiter said something, but I couldn't hear him.

I don't remember how my seatbelt got buckled.

One moment I was pressed watching my husband bury himself in another woman; the next I was in Jackson's car.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said.

He had no reason to apologize, but I couldn’t tell him that. Instead, I said, “I couldn't see her face.”

Maybe I was in shock.

“Rachel. I need you to tell me where you live,” Jackson said. I realised that he'd been driving in circles because of me.

I told him.

Jackson pulled up outside my house and put the car in park but left the engine running.

“Thank you.”

He studied me a second too long. “For what it's worth, the smartest thing you can do right now is nothing. Until you have your next move planned.”

I looked at him. “I don't know what to do.”

He held out his card. “If you ever need help, just give me a call. I'll come running.”

I got out of the car before I could think too hard about that sentence.

Inside, Yaya was already in her pajamas, waiting for her bedtime story and I made myself smile at her. I read two chapters of a bedtime story. I kissed her forehead and wished her goodnight.

Then I sat on the edge of the bed I still shared with a man who'd just had another woman's fingers in his hair, and I let myself think about something I hadn't let myself think about in years.

Eight years ago, I mortgaged my parents' house. It was the only thing they'd left me when they passed. I used it to get Sterling Ventures off the ground. I remember signing those papers and the two of us crammed into a rented office above a dry cleaner's.

We ate instant noodles so much, calling investors all day and pitching. I was the one who landed our first client. I was the one who kept the accounts straight before we could afford someone to do it for us.

When Yaya was born, Owen sat near my hospital bed and held my hand. “You've given this company everything. Let me take over it for a while. Let me take care of you the way you've taken care of us.”

I remember crying, grateful that I married a man who understood me.

I hadn't questioned it. Whenever he gave me a document and told me it was routine, I signed it without reading. That was how much I trusted him.

A notification pops up on my phone. Lingling posted a picture of herself and Owen. He was facing the camera, and she was facing him, her side profile to the camera. She was telling him something, and he was grinning at the camera. For some reason, I looked at his hand on her waist.

And her hair…

I froze. Her hair was also brown. The door opened, and I looked up as Owen walked in.

“Hey, baby, I'm home,” he dropped his briefcase and came to me, sighing as he took a seat next to me. He reached over and touched my shoulder, resting his head on me. “I'm exhausted.”

My skin crawled. I wanted to push him away and scream. I wanted to tell him I knew exactly what he'd been doing, and he would never touch me again.

“You look pale. Are you feeling okay?” he asked while I stayed still.

I forced myself to smile. “I’m just tired.”

He kissed my forehead and I held my breath until he stood to his feet. “I'll freshen up.”

He walked toward the bathroom, whistling.

My husband had just spent the afternoon fcking someone who looked like Lingling and he was whistling.

A sob rose in my throat. I pushed it down. I wouldn’t cry tonight. I would not throw his suitcase into the street. I would not give him the satisfaction of watching me fall apart.

I wouldn't leave yet, not until I know exactly what I'm walking away with.

***

The next morning, Lydia called before I’d even had coffee or gotten my thoughts together.

"I need to see you," she said.

We met at the same café we always did. She just sat there across from me.

“There's something I need to tell you. You're going to hate me, but I have to tell you.”

My heart skipped a beat and I looked at her a little closer. Her brown hair was a few inches shorter, but it still reached the middle of her back.

Her hair looked like that woman's own. “L”.

“No …” the word was out of my mind before I could stop myself.

She looked confused and was about to say something, but my phone buzzed loudly. It was a call from Yaya’s school. A stomach bug was going around, so I had to come pick her up a little early.

“Go. We'll talk later.”

By the time I made it back to the café after dropping Yaya at home with her nanny, something was different with Lydia.

She got off a call the moment I returned.

“What did you want to say?” I asked.

“It’s nothing. Really. I just wanted to apologize for the Colton thing. It wasn't your husband. I was just having issues with my new boyfriend and I made a mistake.”

“What?” I was confused. “Lydia …”

How do I tell her that she was probably right? Maybe he was the one.

“I mean it, Rachel. Just forget I said anything. You used to be someone who didn't need a man to tell her who she was. I watched you build a company out of nothing. Do you even know who Owen's become? Do you really know him anymore?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I snapped. “If you know something, just say it.”

She looked at me for a moment. “Just forget I said anything.”

She left before I could ask anything.