The Falling of Hope (The Falling Series, Book 3), page 7
Ben walks into the room with a bagel smothered in cream cheese on a plate in one hand and a cup of steaming coffee in his other.
“Good morning, darling,” he says, as a warm smile graces his handsome face.
“Good morning,” Grace says, her eyes widening at the sight of the large bagel on the plate.
“Are you hungry, dear?”
“Actually, I’m starving,” she says as she scoots to a sitting position. She smiles, laying the flowers back on his pillow. “Thank you.”
Ben sits on the side of the bed and shares the bagel with her, both of them grinning.
“After you eat, I need you to take a shower and get ready to go on a little trip.”
“A trip?” Grace asks, with a puzzled look on her face.
“It’s a surprise. I need you to pack a few casual outfits for moderate weather and an evening gown. That’s all I’m giving up. Do not try to get anything else out of me,” he says, winking.
“Okay, as you wish, sir.”
After he goes downstairs, Grace showers, puts on a little bit of makeup, and dresses in a pair of jeans and a gray blouse that sweeps down over her collarbone. She appreciates Ben’s determination in trying to make her happy and his attempts to prove to her that he still loves her. She cannot help feeling giddy at the idea of him taking her on a secret trip.
“I’m ready,” she calls to him from the top of the stairs.
Ben appears from around the corner, grinning. “I’ll be right up.”
A minute later, he stands in their room wearing a dashing smile. Lifting her suitcase, he walks her down the stairs, placing his arm around her back. Excitement bubbles in Grace’s stomach when she thinks about what Ben may have in store for her. It has been ages since they took a trip. She hopes leaving the cabin will provide her with a fresh outlook on her marriage and Ben.
An hour later, they cross the Bay Bridge, and Grace realizes that the surprise day-trip is to San Francisco. She places her well-manicured hand on Ben’s thigh and smiles as her hair blows in the wind with the top lowered on Ben’s BMW Z4 Roadster.
Ben pulls up in front of the prestigious W Hotel, and memories rush through Grace’s mind from the first weekend she spent with him there. The weekend he told her that he wanted her to be his girlfriend. The weekend she fell in love with him. A valet rushes to their car as Ben tosses him the keys before walking around to the passenger side of the small sports car and opening the door to help Grace out.
“Not a scratch,” he nods to the valet.
Grace rolls her eyes. She hates how pretentious Ben can be, especially when it comes to his precious car. Ben turns and wraps his arm around Grace’s waist and escorts her into the grandiose lobby of the hotel.
As soon as the elevator doors open, Grace recognizes the hallway and knows what room Ben has booked. The suite he had when she came to visit him in San Francisco for the first time.
“Bring back any memories?” Ben asks, as he closes the door to the suite behind him.
Grace smiles and gives him a nod.
“We can relax for a bit, but I do need you ready to walk out of this door by five o’clock, okay?”
Grace flops onto the large bed, feeling emotional from the memories rushing through her mind. Sadness creeps into her heart. Hope and wonder filled her life the first time she entered this room with Ben. A new beginning. An escape from her love life’s treacherous past. Now, it seems to her that she was wrong to ever think that she could be happy and in love or that love would be everything she sees in movies and reads about in books, a happily ever after. For Grace, falling in love with Ben was something she tried not to do in the beginning for fear of losing love again, and here it is teetering on the edge of destruction.
How could she not fall in love with Benjamin McKay? A dashing, gorgeous, seductive man that most women fall on their knees for. At a time in her life when she was on the rebound from Ian Taylor breaking her heart for the second time, Ben was there for her to help her handle the trauma she suffered from the horrifying, resulting ordeal with Sean. How could she not fall in love, even if it was not the same kind of love she had known in the past? Ben seduced Grace into believing that he could offer her a lifetime of romance and security.
Ben lies next to her on the bed and cradles her in his arms. “We are going to have a fantastic night, darling. I promise. Why don’t you take a little nap and I’ll wake you when it’s time for you to get ready?”
She forces a smile and stretches her neck up, lips ready to kiss him. He places a light, sweet, gentle kiss on them and then pulls her back to his inviting body. Here he is, seducing me again. She folds her arm around his stomach and closes her eyes, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
~ ~ ~
Dressed in a tuxedo, Ben reaches for Grace’s hand. Her black evening gown flows out of the limousine, her dainty ankles and heels showing as she steps onto the sidewalk. She stares up at the colonial style building, the lights illuminating from each of the arched windows. She turns her head from side to side, and her eyes grow wide with delight. Ben watches her take in the scene with other couples dressed in formal attire as they enter the immense and luxurious building.
“The opera?” she asks surprised.
“Oui, Madame,” Ben says.
He reaches his arm out and she entwines hers into his as they enter the building.
A beautiful brunette, dressed in her theater attire, escorts them to their seats located in the orchestra section. Ben tries to keep his focus on Grace, but the sexy glances from the female usher distract him. This woman wants me. The young woman’s gaze burns into him like molten lava. Ben does not understand his attraction to her when Grace is the most beautiful woman at the opera and, as far as he is concerned, in the world. He pulls his burning gaze away from the usher and smiles at Grace. Ben holds onto Grace’s hand as she slides toward her seat and then takes it. The usher gives Ben a provocative smile before she turns to walk back up the aisle. She wants me.
Still standing in the aisle, Ben glances at the young woman before turning to Grace. He can see that Grace is overwhelmed with the massive, lavish interior of the opera house.
“Darling, I need to use the restroom before the opera begins. Do you need to go also?” he asks.
She shakes her head, a smile reaching her eyes. For a moment Ben hesitates, how can he even think of doing what he contemplates?
“I’ll be right back,” he says in a hurry as the brunette leaves his sight.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Grace says, her eyes roaming the theater.
Ben rushes through the opera house doors and into the lobby area, searching for the young woman. He sees her standing in a hallway at the far end of the lobby, the same seductive look in her eyes. She raises her hand and with one finger, she motions him to come to her. Consumed with desire, any thought of Grace departs his mind.
In a flash, Ben and the brunette are in a storage closet tearing at each other’s clothes. From his pocket, he pulls a foil package and rips it open with his teeth. He yanks her slacks down around her ankles, his tuxedo pants draped over his legs. Sliding the condom on, his mouth crushes hers. Ben thrusts inside of her, pinning her against a shelf, not caring when she cries, “Ouch!” Still inside her, Ben moves her against a wall and slams into her again and again.
~ ~ ~
Grace pulls her cell phone from her sparkling handbag and looks at the time. He’s been gone for fifteen minutes. What the hell is taking him so long?
The lights in the opera house go dim as Ben scurries his way past the other audience members. Before Grace can ask, Ben is in her ear, “My stomach is bothering me.”
Grace pouts and rubs his stomach. The curtains open and a large man begins to wail mournful, melodic melodies in Italian. Ben squirms in his seat, and Grace worries that he will not make the entire opera or that he will get sicker. She leans close to his ear and whispers, “I’m so sorry you’re feeling bad. Do you want to skip this and go back to the hotel?”
“No, darling,” he whispers back, taking her hand into his.
Guilt tugs at Grace’s heart when she sees the beads of sweat on Ben’s forehead. “Are you sure?” she mouths. Ben nods and waves for her to pay attention to the performance.
Later that night, Grace stands in the hotel bathroom, nervous, as her stomach twists into knots. After months of denying Ben and ready to forgive him and try to move on with their marriage, she wants to make love to him. Forgive and forget, she thinks, as she ties the satin ribbon on her robe around her body.
First, the surprise of taking her on a weekend getaway warmed her soul to him. Then, the romantic gesture of booking the same suite they had shared during their first weekend together enticed her even more. Throughout the entire opera, he squeezed her hand to the point that she thought he might have stopped her circulation. His final woo of the evening was taking her to the same restaurant overlooking Fisherman’s Warf that they ate at when he told her he wanted her to be his. The entire evening has been a rekindling of their love and Grace values every moment.
She takes one last look in the mirror, checking her lip-gloss and brushing her fingers through her hair, before opening the bathroom door. Feeling nervous because she has not made love to Ben since before his confession, she steps through the doorway. She notices the lights are off in the suite except for the light that sits on a nightstand next to her side of the bed.
“Ben? Ben?”
Walking over to the bed, her eyes focus on him as she finds him fast asleep. A mixture of disappointment and relief runs through her body. I guess we’re not making love tonight.
Chapter 7
When they arrive home from their weekend trip to San Francisco, their cold and dark home greets them. Ben carries their luggage inside, and Grace heads to the kitchen to make them both a cup of tea. She was quiet on their drive home, her mind clouded with the events of the past several months. She walks to the living room and finds Ben hunched over the fireplace trying to ignite a flame.
“I thought you might be cold,” he says approaching her.
Grace sits as Ben takes the seat next to her. Scooting close to her body, Ben wraps an arm around her back. “Did you have a good time in the city?”
Looking up into his brown eyes, Grace smiles. “I did. It was nice. I loved the opera.”
The corner of his lips pulls into a smirk.
“What?” Grace asks.
“I’m just thinking about how extraordinary the opera was.” His smile falls, and Grace wonders what thought made him unhappy. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, darling. I am tired. Would you like to go up to bed?”
“After I finish my tea.”
Snuggling in the nook of Ben’s arm, Grace sips on her hot tea. I need to make love to him. I need to make this marriage work. She places her teacup on a coaster, rises from the couch, and heads to the stairs.
“Come upstairs in ten minutes,” she says gliding up the stairs towards their bedroom.
A few minutes pass, with Grace looking through her drawers for a particular lingerie set, before pulling it out in a paper-wrapped package. Sitting on the edge of her bed, a black and white embroidered bustier with a black, satin bow and gleaming rhinestone accents in her hand, Grace tries to convince herself that making love to Ben is the key to saving her marriage. She steps into the panties that match her bustier and little black satin bows rest on each of her hips. Her pointed toes dive into black silk stockings to complete her look. She rushes over to her bathroom mirror and fluffs her hair. She reaches into a drawer, pulls out a tube of lip gloss, and glides it over her full lips. Just as the tip of the brush makes its last glide over her bottom lip, Ben enters the bedroom. I can do this. I won’t think about Ben cheating. I won’t allow negative thoughts to cloud my mind, she thinks before turning the bathroom light off.
When she finds him, Ben has already made his way over to the bed and removed his shoes. His jaw drops when he catches the sight of her standing in the doorway that leads into their bedroom.
“You look beautiful, my darling.”
Without a word, Grace saunters over to him and straddles herself onto his lap. Sliding her hand under his hair and onto the back of his neck, she pulls him into a kiss, mouth open and ready to take on his tongue. The moment his tongue collides with hers, visions of Ben kissing another woman surge through her mind. She attempts to block the vision out of her mind and moves her body over Ben’s, rubbing herself against him. Pulling her body down onto his growing erection, his kiss becomes heated and passionate. Grace throws her head back and allows Ben to adorn her neck with hot, wet kisses, still rubbing her body on his. A rush of warmth comes over her entire body, desire building in the pit of her stomach.
Ben rises up from the bed, and Grace’s legs clasp around his hips. Turning, he lays her on the bed, his body lying on top of hers. His lips trail over her neck, behind her ear, and down in between her breasts.
It has months since she allowed him to get this intimate with her. After learning of his infidelity, she could hardly stomach the idea of Ben touching her with tainted hands. Hands that were probably inside other women. Ever since his confession, Grace lost confidence in her ability to please a man. Although, in the past she never had anything but compliments about her lovemaking skills, Ben’s adultery makes her question everything about her abilities as a good lover. More than once, she sat for hours asking herself what was wrong with her. Why did Ben stray from their commitment to each other when she always gave him all of herself?
A rush of self-doubt pulls her from the heated moment. She finds herself wondering if she looks good in the outfit she chose. The hard tip of his cock stroking her between the legs reminds her that he does desire her. Ben has tried more than once to make love. Grace craves his strong hands grabbing her breasts. She wants to feel loved in a physical way.
Just when her body readies itself for him, another unwelcome vision fills Grace’s mind. A view of Ben fucking another woman. In her nightmarish fantasy, she cannot make out the women’s face, but Ben’s ecstasy-filled features are clear. She tries pushing the thoughts away, but she cannot. “Stop!” Grace blurts out, pushing him off her.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t. Get off me.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ben shouts, rising from her and standing at the edge of the bed, grimacing.
“I just can’t.”
“This is never going to work if you can’t forgive me,” Ben says, as he reaches for his pillow. “I can’t. How about that Grace? I can’t keep being rejected by you.”
“Well, I can’t be intimate with you without thinking of you screwing other women, you asshole!” Grace pushes herself off the bed and grabs for her robe laying over a chair in the corner of their room. She ties the robe around her and covers up any glimpse of the lingerie.
“You can’t keep doing this to me. You can’t seduce me and then just leave me hanging like this.” He waves his hand above his still hard dick.
“I can’t help it, Ben!”
Without any more words, Ben pulls a blanket from the bottom of the bed in a fury and leaves the bedroom slamming the door. Standing still, Grace wraps her arms around her body in a lonely embrace. Tears do not come, but anger does.
Resting in her bed for hours, Grace contemplates her marriage. Can I forgive him? Can I make this work? Is it even worth it? Questions and doubts plague her mind until the early hours of the morning.
Grace slinks down the stairs to her living room and finds Ben waking from what looks like an uncomfortable night of insomnia. His tussled hair and the stubble that always appears in the morning, appeal to her heart. She always loved the way Ben looks when he first wakes up.
“Can I sit?” she asks.
“Of course.”
She stares, tracking every line of his face, the slight wrinkles under his light brown eyes, the fullness of his lips, the dimples that pocket his cheeks when he offers her a smile, but something inside her that used to love him, that used to cherish him, has died.
“I’m leaving.”
“Where are you going?”
“I mean, I’m leaving you,” she pauses. “I want a divorce.”
Ben runs his hand through his sandy-blond hair. “Please, Grace, we —”
“No,” she puts her hand up. “I can’t do this, Ben. I just can’t do it anymore.”
“Things have changed.”
“They may have, I don’t know, but I’ve for sure changed. It’s never going to work out. Whatever I felt for you, it’s just not the same anymore. I care about you, I do, but—”
“Don’t leave me. We can make our marriage work. I will be faithful.”
“I have to. It’s just not meant to be.”
“That is not true. We are meant to be.”
Grace places her hand on Ben’s leg and gives it a slight, loving squeeze. She stares into his eyes. Can I make this work? She pulls her hand away and looks at her fidgeting fingers clasped in her lap. “We’re not meant to be. If we were, you would’ve been satisfied with me and not gone around screwing everything in sight.”
“I’ll change. I swear.”
“Ben! Stop. There’s no changing my mind. This is it. I want a divorce. I’ve been trying to force myself to recapture how I used to feel about you for months. I can’t even bear for you to touch me. Sometimes, I can’t even stand looking at you. I can’t get over your betrayal. I won’t force myself to stay with you when it’s not in my heart to work on us anymore.”
“You’re angry. You need time to process everything.”
“I’ve had time, Ben.” She runs a hand across his rough face before dropping it to her lap. Her heart sinks when his eyes well up with tears. “We’ve had time and therapy and nothing is changing for me except for once, I know exactly what I want. It’s not fair to either of us to keep up this charade. You’ll end up resenting me because I won’t stay in an empty marriage. I would restrict you to working in Napa. You’d hate me after several months.”
