A Wind’s Whisper of Love

After finding out my boyfriend had cheated on me, I drowned my sorrows at a bar.  

When I woke up, I found myself lying in the arms of his best friend Andrew Wallace.  

Face to face, my pale leg was draped over his waist.  

“Andrew? What… why am I here?” Panicked, I blurted out, “Oh, no. We didn’t… we didn’t do anything last night, did we?”  

Andrew let out a sharp laugh, grabbing my chin firmly. “That’s a question I should be asking you. Do you remember what you did to me, Bennett?”  

***

The previous day had been meant to be a romantic surprise for my boyfriend, Jasper Douglas. I’d booked a last-minute flight to visit him while I was home for a family gathering. My bag even had his favorite strawberry-flavored treat tucked inside—something I knew he’d be craving after a week apart.  

But when I opened the door, the sight that greeted me shattered everything. Jasper was wrapped around another woman, locked in a passionate kiss on the couch.  

Caught red-handed, Jasper tried to squirm his way out of it. “I was drunk,” he mumbled, claiming he mistook his secretary—who had supposedly brought him home—for me.  

His voice carried a childlike pout.  

“You’ve been gone for seven days, Charlotte and I was suffocating here alone. You’ve got to take responsibility for that.”  

And just like that, he reached for me, trying to take my clothes off. 

I shoved his hands away, exasperated. “I’m tired, Jasper. You…do whatever you want.”

That night, I hit the bar and drank until the world went dark. When I woke up, Andrew was staring down at me with a mixture of annoyance and amusement.  

“Andrew,” I stammered, my voice shaky, “why am I here? We didn’t… we didn’t do anything last night, did we?”  

He smirked, tilting my chin higher. “That’s a question I should be asking you.”

“Do you remember what you did to me, Bennett?” he asked, his voice thick with a grunt.

I rubbed my throbbing head, desperate to piece together the fragments of last night. But it was blank. I failed to remember a thing. 

“You’ve got some nerve,” Andrew said, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Going out alone at night to drink like that. If I hadn’t bumped into you, those guys would have probably dragged you off somewhere,” Andrew said with a smirk, shaking his head.

The words hit me like a bucket of cold water and a chill ran down my spine.

“This is what you did,” Andrew leaned back, pulling off his robe in one swift motion. 

“You kicked and bit me like I’m some sort of chew-toy. What else did you think you were doing?” Andrew continued, untying his robe with a frown, revealing more than I was prepared for. His bare chest, arms and neck were dotted with dark purple marks. My bite marks.  

I stared in utter horror as the realization sank in. Oh, God. I must have been so drunk I mistook him for that cheating bastard, Jasper. 

With nothing more to say Andrew headed to the kitchen to make some soup. Meanwhile, I sat there, stewing in shame and anger.  

When the soup was ready, I couldn’t bring myself to take a single sip. Instead, I stirred the spoon aimlessly, my frustration boiling over until tears started streaming down my face.  

Andrew shook his head. “You look ridiculous and a little pathetic, to be honest,” he said, trying to mock me.

He wasn’t wrong. I was pathetic, ridiculous.

I’d been with Jasper since I was 19, dedicating eight years of my life to him. The first fall latte, the first winter ravioli—I was always the one lovingly handing them to him.

After college, Jasper insisted I stay home instead of working. “I’ll take care of you,” he’d said, wanting me to be the perfect homemaker.

While my classmates climbed the career ladder, transforming into accomplished professionals, I became nothing more than a glorified housekeeper. I cooked, cleaned and even taught myself Thai massage to ease Jasper’s neck pain.

His friends teased me, saying I was spoiling him rotten. “You’re turning him into a man-child,” they laughed. But I didn’t care. I loved him too much to see the red flags.

And now? Seven days away from home and he couldn’t even keep his hands to himself.

Andrew handed me a tissue, breaking my spiral of thoughts. “You almost had them in the entire bowl. Or is that what you preferred—tears-flavored soup?”

He pushed the bowl closer. “Eat up. I’ll have Jasper come pick you up when you’re done.”

I slammed the spoon down and stood abruptly. “Stay out of my business, Wallace! Who asked for your help anyway?”

Grabbing my bag, I stormed out of his apartment, leaving the untouched soup behind.