The Unseen Dance

After marrying Ben, my childhood friend, it was like we were still strangers.

Our interactions were mostly limited to the nightly routine, a perfunctory exercise. He was so reserved that even when I brought up divorce, he only paused, then pushed himself up from the bed.

“Alright,” he said, like he was acknowledging a memo.

“I don’t want the kid either,” I told him. “He’ll be your responsibility.”

“No problem,” he replied, his voice flat.

I pushed further, “Thanks for the last few years. It’s been rough, I know.”

My belongings were minimal, all packed in one suitcase. Before walking out the door, I glanced back. Ben, bare-chested with fading scratch marks on his back, stood silently on the balcony, smoking a cigarette.

1.

The buzz around my younger sister, Chloe's, return to the States hit all the social media feeds. A rising star in the ballet world, she was all fire and flair in the interview clips, always with that signature red dress.

But it was the last photo accompanying the story that got my attention. It was a shot of a car window, half-lowered, and Chloe's head strategically placed to obscure a man’s face. Though you couldn't see him clearly, you could make out the strong lines of his brow, the curve of his nose, and the sharp cut of his jaw.

And, they looked like they were kissing.

Chloe’s fans went ballistic, trying to figure out who owned the car. I knew instantly; it was my husband's car, a rare limited-edition Rolls Royce Phantom.

Ben wouldn’t be home tonight, I figured.

So, I happily sprawled out on our ridiculously large bed.

Later, I was woken by a pair of cold arms sliding around me.

“You awake?” Ben’s voice was polite. “Sorry to disturb you.”

I was still foggy with sleep, and it took me a moment to process. I started to sit up, but he had already pulled me closer, making space for himself on the bed.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t think you’d be back.”

The light switched on, and I watched Ben shrug off his robe, his back muscles rippling in the warm glow, a portrait of strength and masculine beauty.

A minute later, that same neck was close to mine.

“Can I kiss you?” His tone was formal, yet he didn’t wait for an answer.

His lips moved against mine, and I could feel the dampness of his skin as the heat built up.

Finally, Ben pulled back, his long arm reaching for the nightstand drawer, his brow furrowing.

“Where are they?”

“Sorry…forgot to buy them.” I admitted.

He stared at me, then settled back, a hint of amusement in his voice, “It’s fine, I’ll grab a box after work tomorrow.”

A box….

Shouldn’t have hidden them.

“Okay, that’s…great,” I mumbled.

“You’re welcome.”

The next morning, the other side of the bed was already empty. A quick glance at my phone and it was already noon. And there he was again, all over the news.

Ben, CEO of Ben Holdings, was seen attending Chloe’s homecoming performance. The internet quickly connected the dots and confirmed he was the guy in the car from the night before. And, after some digging, they realiz...