“Yes.”
A tear drops from the corner of my eye and I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth, trying to keep the rest at bay.
“I’d like to know the truth now please. All of it.”
“I should have told you about Shelby, but there…”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
He sighs. “My soon-to-be ex-wife.”
Ben was married. Is married.
“So you’re getting a divorce, but you’re currently married?”
I want to have everything laid out crystal clear.
“Yes.”
“Does she know that?”
“That we’re divorcing?” He looks offended. “Yes. Of course, Birdie.”
I wish he would stop using my nickname. I wish he would just do me a favor and walk right back out that door.
“I’m not guilty of the crimes you might think I am,” he continues. “I didn’t leave a pregnant wife behind in Los Angeles and start an affair with you. I would never…could never…”
He speaks with so much vehemence, I glance over at Nan briefly to confirm she’s still sleeping. Watching her shallow, constant breaths momentarily dries my tears as Ben inches farther into the room, closing the door behind him to presumably give us more privacy. I hadn’t even thought of it.
“Shelby and I got married very young,” he starts. “Straight out of high school. You can’t imagine the amount of pressure on me then. A young rookie in the NBA. Our marriage was the last thing on my mind, and I regret that. That’s on me. Shelby stuck by my side though, tried her best to make things work for us in the beginning. I thought we were okay—sure, looking back, I see now that I was deluding myself, because the writing was on the wall. She’d been sleeping with her trainer for two years and was getting sloppy about it. She wanted to get caught and have an out, but I was too distracted to even notice her infidelity. Around Valentine’s Day, she sat down and told me everything. Explained that she was in love with Mike and she wanted a divorce.”
“How did you feel?” I ask, wanting to know.
His eyebrows furrow. “Betrayed…angry. Sad.”
“Because you still loved her?”
His brown eyes flash with unnamed emotion as they flit to me. My stomach squeezes tight as I watch him shake his head. “Don’t think less of me, Birdie. Please. Now that I look back, our marriage was barely surviving. We were friends more than anything, but it’s taken me a long time to see that. I felt so betrayed by my partner who had vowed to be honest and faithful to me. I was so stuck on the fact that she cheated, that she could do that for so long without telling me. It seemed unforgivable.”
“But the baby…”
The tension leaves his face as his eyes pinch closed. He inhales and props his hands on his hips, and when he blinks his eyes open again, tears swim in the corners.
“She’s pregnant with your son, Ben.”
His jaw ticks and he nods. “What are the odds? Less than a lightning strike maybe. At first, she assumed the baby was Mike’s, but she and I had sex—”
I wince and he pauses, only trudging forward when he’s sure I can handle it.
“It was the only time we’d slept together in almost a year. Like I said, we’d drifted apart. I thought it was normal for couples to go through dry spells like that. It didn’t bother me as much as it should have.” He scrubs his hand through his hair. “I feel like I can’t emphasize enough how fucking stupid I was, how caught up in the game…I just thought we’d figure it all out eventually.”
“But if she was sleeping with you both—”
“They did genetic testing. It’s not Mike’s baby.”
It’s dead silent inside my nan’s room. Out in the hall, a door opens, wheels screech and beg for grease, voices drift in and out of earshot.
Our end is so blatantly obvious it should be written in red paint on the wall. We’re fish trying to swim upstream, wriggling and writhing in agony. I see that now. There is no way to recapture the ease of the last few weeks, the slow nights in my bed, the quiet hum of life together out in the country. We were never going to make it work, but now, with Shelby and the baby, it’s more than difficult—it’s impossible. I don’t know if they’re going to try to resolve their issues, but I know I won’t stand in their way.
“I leave tomorrow, Birdie. For Tokyo and the Games. After, I’ll be back in Los Angeles. My schedule—”
“Ben.”
He steps forward, hand outstretched. “I could have my assistant take a look and—”
“Ben.”
He’s still trying to swim upstream, but I know better. I’ll be the one to save us the trouble. This won’t work. This fleeting affair between two star-crossed lovers. This tender love built on a bedrock of subtle lies. His and mine. I believe him now. I trust his story, but it still won’t save us.