Breach of Honor by Naomi Porter

42 Miranda

RAGE TRICKLED THROUGH my veins, turning my blood black. I had never been this angry with Will before, and I didn’t like it one bit.

For the third night since Jason returned, it was after midnight and Will wasn’t home. He had at least texted me beforehand saying he was going out with Jason, but would you think he’d tell me where they were going? Hell no. When I’d asked, I got a stupid response: We’re just winging it.

On top of his late nights out, which seemed to have become a regular occurrence the last two weekends, he’d been agitated more than usual.

And I felt responsible for his behavior.

On more than one occasion, he’d told me he was tired of sitting at home alone, waiting for me. I can’t say I blamed him. Wedding season had hit with an enormous punch. Even after hiring six new people and Viv working part time, I was putting in over fifty hours a week.

Not telling me where he was going with Jason was utter bullshit though. If it were me hanging out with girlfriends, I’d let him know where we were going as a courtesy… out of respect for him.

His lack of transparency was just the beginning of my worries. The changes in him were coming from every direction. He’d gone into work late several times and had missed some meetings. Lily had heard from Simone Will’s dad was pissed Friday afternoon. Simone had overheard Mr. St. James ranting to Claire, questioning what in the hell was going on with “that boy.”

On top of everything else, a gnawing in my gut was my biggest concern. After doing a little research on the internet, many of Will’s changes were indicative of a man who was having an affair.

An affair.

My Will.

I didn’t want to believe it, yet he gave me no other choice with all his stupid, lame-ass answers and dodging my questions by distracting me with mind-numbing sex.

Not tonight though. Tonight, he’d better give real answers to my questions or… or… Well, I didn’t know, to be honest.

If Will was having an affair, it would devastate me.

Will

At half past midnight, I pulled into the garage. Anxiety regarding tonight had set in over the last week. Every time I thought about what Cori had said would happen, I wanted to throw up. Thus far, she hadn’t been wrong about the way this fake affair would play out. Miranda had been showing all the signs she was growing more and more suspicious.

It fucking drove me mad when Miranda startled from my touch and seeing the weariness in her eyes in the morning. I’d feel her toss and turn at night. Seeds of doubt were burrowing in her heart, yet she never left late to work and continued to dazzle her clients with spectacular events.

But the lies and deceit were wearing on her, and the worst had yet to come.

I braced myself for her tears and anger, getting out of the car and going inside. Only the desk light was on, reflecting her silhouette on the sliding glass door as she stared out at the ocean. She didn’t turn around, arms crossed over her chest.

Deep breath. This needs to happen.

“What’re you doing up?”

I’m a fucking asshole.

She turned to face me, a fire glowing in her narrowed eyes. “That’s the first thing you say to me when you get home? Not hello or hey or how was your day? Just what’re you doing up?”

“How was your day?” I tossed my keys into the glass bowl haphazardly so they’d rattle louder than usual. My heart hammered against my ribs.

The hesitation in her eyes as she moved closer wrecked me. “Talk to me. What’s going on with you? Whatever it is, I want to help.” Jesus, her pleading voice weakened my knees. “Will, I know my job is taking a toll on you, and I’m trying to figure it all out so I can be home for you more… but please, don’t give up on me… on us.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, and I’ll get control of my work schedule. I promise.”

Fuck, she believed she was the problem. I never wanted her to feel that way.

“It’s not that.” I kept my tone even with a detached quality as I looked away from her. Cori said Miranda needed to feel like we were drifting apart. I hoped Miranda knew me better, knew my love for her ran deeper than the ocean’s floor and went beyond the farthest star. If she didn’t, all this shit would surely kill me.

Despite my words and what she thought was happening, she needed to fight it and trust in me and our love, but I wasn’t a fool. This fucked-up plan had been orchestrated in such a way she’d have no other choice but to believe I was having an affair.

“Then what?” She stepped closer and ran her hand over my chest. “We can fix whatever is wrong.”

I wished it were that simple. I waited for Miranda to say what I knew she was thinking as she considered me.

“Where were you tonight?”

I stepped back; this was it. “Club R.”

Her eyes widened, tears pooling at a rapid rate. “Club Rendezvous? Why? Why would you go there?” She sniffled, then her breathing hitched, and I knew she smelled the perfume mixed with smoke. “Will…” She reached for my collar where Cori had smeared a tiny bit of red lipstick.

I stood there like a guilty, cocky son of a bitch.

Miranda’s skin turned blotchy as tears cascaded down her face. My fucking heart shattered when she took several steps away from me, shaking her head no.

“Who is she?”

“I’m tired. Let’s go to bed.” I reached for her hand. Somehow, I had to defuse this fucking situation.

“Who is she?” she yelled. It was then I noticed she was fully dressed in shorts, a shirt, and sandals. How did I miss that before? “Talk to me, dammit!”

“She’s nobody. Just someone I danced with and talked to.”

“And kissed!”

I didn’t deny it, as Cori had directed, even though it just about killed me.

“I won’t do this. I won’t allow this kind of disrespect!”

“What are you going to do about it? You’re never home!” And I’d lowered the boom.

She shook her head, lip trembling. I wanted to grab her and hold her close and tell her the truth. If I could just tell her everything. Then I’d apologize for lying to her and raising my voice, but I couldn’t.

“I want you to stop this bullshit. No more Club R and no more hanging out with Jason. If you want to be with me, you’ll stop screwing around.”

“You don’t own me.”

She gasped, hand on her chest. My pulse hammered in my ears as she stared perplexed for the longest moment of my life. I couldn’t read her, and it fucking scared the shit out of me. “You’re absolutely right.”

I turned away, heading to the bedroom like Cori had said to do so I didn’t crumble under the weight of my guilt. What I didn’t expect was hearing the garage door slam shut.

I ran out as she was putting the car in reverse.

I gripped the door handle, but it was locked. “Miranda! Don’t leave! We’ll talk! Let’s talk now.” Panic had overcome my logic. Screw the plan, I couldn’t let her go. “Please, baby, please don’t go!”

She shook her head, bawling her eyes out as the car crept down the driveway. I wouldn’t release her door handle. I held onto it for dear life in the street. The car inched forward, gradually picking up speed. I ran alongside, holding onto the handle until finally, I couldn’t keep up.

Gasping and heaving, I emptied my stomach onto the pavement. She wasn’t supposed to leave. It wasn’t part of the plan.

Her leaving wasn’t part of the fucking plan!