Chapter 1: The Secretary on Our Honeymoon
Less than twenty-four hours after Julian swore to love me for the rest of our lives, he stood beside me at JFK Airport and announced that his beautiful secretary would be joining our honeymoon.
Then he smiled and asked me not to make a scene.
“Clara, there's something I need to tell you.””
I looked up from my phone.
My husband was adjusting the cuff of his expensive navy jacket, his wedding ring catching the fluorescent airport lights. He had worn that same jacket the previous evening when he promised our families that I would always come first.
Now he couldn't even look me in the eye.
“What is it, Julian?””
“Sienna has an urgent business report to finish. It's connected to the Henderson account, and I can't afford to have it delayed.””
I waited.
He cleared his throat and glanced toward the departure screens.
“So, she's coming with us to Maui. We'll have to spend a little time working, but it shouldn't affect the trip too much.””
For several seconds, I heard nothing but the rumble of rolling suitcases and the distant announcement of a boarding group.
I thought I'd misunderstood him.
“You want your secretary to come on our honeymoon?””
Julian's jaw tightened.
“Don't phrase it like that, Clara.””
“How else would you phrase it?””
“She's an employee. This is a business necessity.””
“A business necessity that requires her to fly to Hawaii with us?””
“It's complicated.””
Of course it was.
Everything was complicated when Julian needed to justify something selfish.
The previous evening, he had held my hands beneath a ceiling of crystal chandeliers and promised that our marriage would never become another item on his business calendar.
He had kissed me in front of two hundred guests.
He had danced with me while our friends cheered.
And when I whispered that I couldn't wait to begin our life together, he had pressed his forehead against mine and said, “You and me against the world, sweetheart.””
Apparently, the world included his secretary.
Before I could answer, a familiar voice floated behind him.
“Oh, there you are!””
Sienna Blake appeared with a designer suitcase nearly identical to mine.
She wore a flowing white dress, delicate gold jewelry, and oversized sunglasses pushed into her perfectly styled hair. Her cream-colored handbag probably cost more than the first car I'd ever owned.
She looked less like an employee preparing for a business trip and more like a woman arriving for a romantic getaway.
Her eyes found Julian first.
Then they moved to me.
“Clara! Congratulations again on the wedding!””
She leaned forward as if to hug me, but stopped just short of touching my shoulders.
“I'm so sorry to interrupt your honeymoon. I really hope you understand.””
Her voice was sweet enough to belong in a greeting card.
Her expression was flawless.
But I noticed the small smile that appeared when Julian turned to help her with her suitcase.
He knew exactly how to handle her luggage.
He knew which side of her he preferred to walk beside.
And when she whispered something into his ear, he laughed with a familiarity that made my stomach tighten.
I'd spent two years with Julian.
I knew what his genuine laughter sounded like.
That wasn't the sound he made when I told him a joke over breakfast.
It was the sound he made when someone understood a private joke he hadn't bothered to share with me.
“Julian,” I said quietly, “did you invite her before or after we got married?””
His smile vanished.
“What kind of question is that?””
“A simple one.””
“Clara, please. We're in public.””
Sienna immediately lowered her eyes.
“Oh, God. I'm making everything awkward, aren't I?””
She placed one hand against her chest.
“I can still go home. I don't want to cause problems between you two.””
Julian turned to her so quickly that the movement told me more than his words ever could.
“No. You're coming. The Henderson presentation can't wait.””
“But your honeymoon—”
“I'll handle it.””
He said it gently.
Too gently.
Then he turned to me.
“See? She's trying to be considerate. You don't need to make this uncomfortable.””
I stared at him.
Sienna had offered to leave, and Julian had refused before she had even finished speaking.
Yet somehow, I was the one being unreasonable.
“Fine,” I said.
Julian blinked.
“Fine?””
“She's coming, isn't she?””
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then she's coming.””
Relief spread across his face so quickly that I almost laughed.
He slipped his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead.
“That's why I love you, Clara. You're always so understanding.””
Understanding.
That was Julian's favorite word for a woman who swallowed her disappointment so he could avoid discomfort.
When he canceled our anniversary dinner because an investor wanted to meet him, I was understanding.
When he missed my father's birthday because a client invited him to a golf tournament, I was understanding.
When he began answering Sienna's messages during our evenings together, I was understanding.
And now, when he wanted another woman on our honeymoon, I was supposed to be understanding again.
I wondered if he'd ever considered what it felt like to be married to someone who expected you to make room for everybody except yourself.
Apparently not.
“Wonderful,” Sienna said, clapping her hands lightly.
“I promise I won't get in the way.””
She glanced at Julian.
“I'll be working most of the time anyway.””
“I'm sure,” I replied.
Her smile faltered.
“You're not upset, are you?””
I looked directly into her eyes.
“Why would I be upset? You've got work to do.””
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across her face.
Then Julian took her suitcase and placed it beside his own.
“Come on. We need to check in.””
He walked ahead with Sienna.
I followed a few steps behind, listening to them discuss the Henderson account, flight schedules, and the presentation they supposedly needed to prepare.
Neither mentioned that we had been married for less than a day.
Neither asked how I felt.
Neither remembered that I'd spent six months planning this trip.
I'd chosen the oceanfront suite, booked the flights, arranged the airport transfers, and reserved a private dinner overlooking the Pacific for our second evening.
I had even arranged a couples' massage at a resort spa because Julian had complained about how exhausted he was after a demanding quarter at work.
I'd paid for everything with money from my own savings.
Julian had given me his preferred dates and told me to handle the rest.
He'd never asked how much the vacation cost.
He'd simply assumed I could afford it.
At the airline counter, the agent greeted us with a professional smile.
“Good morning. Are you checking in together?””
“Yes,” Julian answered.
“All three of us.””
The words struck me harder than they should have.
All three of us.
As if this were the most ordinary arrangement in the world.
The agent examined her screen.
“Wonderful. I see the reservation was made under Mrs. Clara Bennett's account. I just need to confirm the passenger details.””
Julian turned toward me.
“Can you handle that, sweetheart? I need to check something with Sienna.””
He walked away before I could respond.
I watched him lean toward her near the departure screens.
She showed him something on her phone.
He laughed.
Then she touched his forearm.
He didn't move away.
My wedding ring felt suddenly heavy.
I looked down at my phone and opened the airline application.
Three passengers.
Three tickets.
One honeymoon.
The reservation had been made through my account, and every ticket was linked to the payment card I'd used when booking.
Julian had never bothered to create his own itinerary.
He hadn't needed to.
He trusted me to organize everything, just as he trusted me to forgive everything.
I selected my reservation.
A small menu appeared.
Manage booking.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
I could have screamed.
I could have marched over to Sienna and demanded to know how long she'd been sharing private jokes with my husband.
I could have asked Julian whether he intended to spend our honeymoon in bed with me or discussing quarterly projections with his secretary.
But the thought of arguing in the middle of JFK, while strangers watched and Julian accused me of embarrassing him, made me feel suddenly tired.
I didn't want to beg a man to remember that I was his wife.
I didn't want to compete with a woman who seemed entirely comfortable watching him humiliate me.
And I certainly didn't want to spend thousands of dollars creating romantic memories for a man who had invited another woman into them.
I tapped my ticket.
A warning appeared.
Cancel passenger ticket?
My hands trembled.
Not because I was afraid of Julian.
Because I was grieving the marriage I'd hoped we were building.
I'd wanted to believe that our wedding meant something to him.
I'd wanted to believe the promises he'd made beneath the chandeliers.
I'd wanted to believe that the man who held my hands during our vows would remember those promises when nobody else was watching.
Instead, he'd brought his secretary to our honeymoon and expected me to thank him for being honest about it.
I looked across the terminal.
Julian was taking a photograph of Sienna beside the departure board.
She stood close enough that her shoulder pressed against his chest.
He lowered the phone and showed her the picture.
She laughed, then leaned against him to examine the screen.
Something inside me went very still.
I pressed the button.
A second warning appeared.
Are you sure you want to cancel?
I confirmed.
My ticket disappeared from the reservation.
I didn't cancel Julian's ticket.
I didn't cancel Sienna's ticket.
I simply removed myself from a honeymoon that had stopped belonging to me the moment my husband decided I was an inconvenience.
Then I closed the application and slipped my phone into my handbag.
“Everything sorted?”” Julian asked, returning to my side.
“Everything.””
He smiled and handed me the boarding passes.
“Excellent. I knew you'd handle it.””
I glanced at the documents.
Julian Bennett.
Sienna Blake.
Two seats in first class.
And no ticket for me.
I folded the passes carefully and handed them back.
“You two should go ahead,” I said.
Julian frowned.
“What are you talking about?””
“I need to make a phone call.””
“Clara, boarding starts in forty minutes.””
“I know.””
He studied my face as if searching for the anger he had expected to find.
When he found none, his expression softened into impatient amusement.
“Don't tell me you're suddenly upset about this.””
“Why would I be?””
“Because you're acting strangely.””
I smiled.
“Then perhaps you should enjoy your trip before I become even stranger.””
He stared at me.
Sienna approached, carrying two coffees.
“Everything okay?””
“Perfect,” I answered.
Julian took one of the cups from her.
“We'll talk on the plane,” he told me.
“Let's not turn this into a bigger issue than it needs to be.””
I nodded.
He kissed my forehead again, then walked toward the gate with Sienna.
I stood beneath the departure board, watching them disappear into the crowd.
Only when they were gone did I allow myself to breathe.
My phone vibrated.
A notification appeared from the airline.
*Your booking has been updated.*
I opened it to make sure the cancellation had gone through.
Instead, I found a message from the resort.
*Dear Mrs. Bennett, we are delighted to welcome you and Mr. Bennett tomorrow.
We have also received a special request from Mr. Bennett regarding your accommodation.*
I frowned.
A special request?
I opened the attachment.
It was a copy of an email Julian had sent three days earlier.
The subject line read:
*Room Arrangements for Maui.*
I began reading.
By the third sentence, my hands had gone cold.
Because Julian hadn't merely asked his secretary to accompany us.
May you like
He had already instructed the resort to change our room arrangements.
And he had signed the email with a sentence that made my wedding ring feel like a stranger's possession.
