My Sister Betrayed Me and Married My Millionaire Fiancé. Seven Years Later…
The Moment of Truth
But the knot in my gut refused to release. Mom saw my uneasiness at our weekly meal. “You seem distracted, sweetheart,” She murmured, reaching across the table and touching my hand. “Wedding stress or something else?”
I mustered a smile. “Just finishing up the arrangements. Everything is fine.” But everything was not fine.
I began to exert more effort, wondering if perhaps I had been taking Darius for granted. I scheduled a spa day, purchased new lingerie, and tried preparing his favorite foods. He grew increasingly aloof as I tried harder.
Then came the cake tasting appointment, which Darius had been looking forward to for weeks. That morning he called, claiming to have an unexpected meeting with investors. “Odora can join you,” He said. “She knows my preferences anyway.”
I felt terrible after I hung up. How did my sister know my fiancé’s cake preferences better than I did? Nevertheless, I accepted her invitation to join me the next day.
When cleaning Darius’s car before a dinner party, I discovered an earring trapped between the passenger seat and the center console. It was a dangling silver earring with a little sapphire. I immediately recognized it; it was Odora’s.
My sister had worn the same earrings to my engagement party, a gift from our grandma. When I showed Darius the earring that evening, his expression was wonderfully composed. “Oh, your sister must have dropped it when I gave her a ride to the florist last week.”
His voice rasped. “She mentioned losing an earring.” “You never told me you drove Odora to the florist,” I replied, barely above a whisper.
“Didn’t I? It must have slipped my mind; it wasn’t important.” When I contacted Odora, her statement matched his exactly. Too perfect.
“Oh thank goodness, I’ve been looking everywhere for that earring. Darius was kind enough to drive me since my car was in the shop.” That night I couldn’t sleep, my mind racing. Had they prepared their story?
Was I paranoid? My weight began to plummet due to stress and dark bags appeared under my eyes. I started going to a therapist without telling Darius.
Three weeks before the wedding, Darius recommended we postpone. “I’m worried about you, Wendy. You haven’t been yourself lately. Maybe we’re rushing things.” I broke down, imploring him to tell me what was wrong, what I had done, and how I could fix it.
He embraced me and assured me that everything was all right, but his eyes were vacant. That night I awoke at 3:00 a.m. to discover Darius’s side of the bed empty. From the hallway, I could hear his whispered words from the guest bedroom.
“Not now. She’ll hear us. I know, I know. Soon, I promise.” The next day, I planned to surprise Darius with lunch at his office. My father, Kelsey, called while I was leaving my apartment.
“Wendy, are you eating properly? Your mother says you’ve lost too much weight. We’re concerned.” “I’m fine, Dad. Just pre-wedding jitters. I’m actually bringing Darius lunch right now.” “Good. That boy better be treating my daughter like a queen.”
He would have known. The security man at Darius’s building recognized me and waved me through with a smile. On the elevator trip to the 12th floor, I examined my reflection, attempting to smooth the worry creases that had formed between my brows.
When I arrived at the reception area, Darius’s secretary, Murel, looked up from her computer, her eyes widening in surprise. “Wendy, we weren’t expecting you today.” Her attention flickered to Darius’s closed office door then back to me.
“Darius is in a meeting right now.” “That’s okay,” I responded, lifting the lunch bag. “I just brought him lunch; I can wait.”
Murel instantly blocked my route. “Actually, he specifically asked not to be disturbed. Perhaps I could let him know you’re here.” Something about her apprehensive demeanor raised my concerns.
“Is he alone in there, Murel?” Her hesitancy revealed all. Before she could react, I moved past her and opened Darius’s office door.
I’ll never forget that scene. Darius leaned against his desk, his hands on my sister’s waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, and their lips locked in a passionate kiss. Neither noticed me at first, leaving me several agonizing seconds to process every aspect.
Odora’s skirt pushed up, Darius’s attitude, and the familiarity in their embrace told of countless previous encounters. When the door closed behind me, they sprung apart. Three frozen faces in a scene of horror.
“Wendy,” Darius responded immediately, adjusting his tie. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
Odora didn’t even try such a blatant falsehood. Instead she raised her chin defiantly. “We didn’t plan this. It just happened.”
The peace that flooded over me was unexpected. “How long?” Darius looked at Odora then back at me. “Wendy, let’s talk about it privately.”
“How long?” My voice stayed firm. “For months,” Odora said. “Since the engagement party.”
For months. Nearly half our engagement, while I was picking out wedding invitations and floral arrangements, they had betrayed me. Darius stepped behind his desk, distancing himself physically as if prepared for a business meeting.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen, Wendy. Sometimes feelings change. I was going to tell you after.” “After what? After the wedding? After our honeymoon?” I replied, my voice rising.
He was attempting to find the appropriate moment. His voice had the studied smoothness he employed at difficult client meetings. The lunch bag fell from my grasp.
“I trusted you both. Both of you.” Odora had the grace to appear embarrassed. “It just happened, Becca. We tried to fight it.”
“Don’t call me Becca.” The childhood nickname seemed like another offense. “And nothing just happens. For 5 months you made choices. Every secret call, every lie, every time you looked me in the eye knowing what you were doing.”
Darius clicked the intercom button. “Murel, please come in.” Murel entered moments later, carefully avoiding my eyes.
“Please escort Wendy out. She’s upset.” “I’m escorting myself out,” I answered, my pride intact but feeling devastated inside. “You deserve each other.”
