My Husband's Entire Hockey Team Knew About His Mistress novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: The Ring in the Glass

Lena drops her ring into the team's champagne, tells eleven players what she thinks of them, and learns her husband just closed every joint account.

"All of you," Lena said. "You all knew."

Beck did not look away from her.

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"The start of last season."

She nodded slowly.

Then she pressed the elevator button and rode down one floor.

The bar was still silent when she walked back in.

His teammates sat at the tables with their drinks untouched.

On the long table by the window stood a silver bucket and a bottle of champagne. A card was propped against it: Congratulations, Telford.

Beside the bottle stood a row of glasses.

Lena picked up the nearest one.

She worked her wedding ring over her knuckle and pulled it off.

She dropped the ring into the glass, and the little splash was loud in the room.

"Which of you drove him to that hotel?" she asked.

Nobody answered.

"Which of you stood next to me at the Christmas party and asked how my day was?"

A young winger near the bar stared into his beer.

"Which of you looked at me last week and said nothing?"

"Mrs. Telford," a big defenseman started.

"I made your wives' charity quilts," she said. "I sat in your kitchens. I held your baby at a christening."

The defenseman closed his mouth.

"I'm not asking for an apology. I want to know how it feels to have watched me walk in here tonight."

The elevator dinged behind her.

"Lena!"

Stanton came across the bar with his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair standing up.

He was breathing hard.

He grabbed her wrist, and she took it back so fast he stumbled.

"Babe, listen. It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like my husband in room 1412."

"It's the contract," Stanton said, low and fast. "Her father owns the team. She said I had to keep her happy until I signed. It means nothing. I swear to God it means nothing."

"You told her what you texted me."

He went still.

"What?"

"She asked you to say it again. In your silly voice. I love you so much, babe."

A man at the bar made a small, ashamed noise.

Stanton's ears went red.

"I filmed it," Lena said. "A clear clip. Your hands. Her blazer on the floor. The folder on the nightstand."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me."

"Lena, please." His voice cracked. "Six years. We did six years of this together."

"No," she said. "I did six years of it. You did it with me standing behind you."

The elevator dinged again.

Amber Dunning walked out of it in her cream blazer, with her hair fixed and her lipstick fresh.

She had put herself back together fast, and her smile was as warm as it had been in the lobby.

"Lena," she said gently. "Let's not do this here."

"You walked his offer up to him yourself," Lena said. "You said you wanted to see his face."

"I did."

"I bet you did."

"Think about what you're throwing away," Amber said, and she sounded kind. "You're a Wolf's wife. Do you know how many women in this city would give anything for that?"

"All of them can have him."

Amber tilted her head. "You don't want to get angry in front of the whole roster."

"I'm not angry."

"No?"

"No," Lena said. "I'm leaving."

Somebody at the tables laughed once, short and bitter, and then stopped.

She turned toward the doors.

Stanton's hand came out and caught her sleeve.

"You can't just leave. I'm your husband. We have a house. We have a life."

"You have a girlfriend," Lena said. "And a folder."

She pulled free.

She walked the length of the bar with her chin up and the whole room watching her go.

At the doorway Beck Rylander stepped aside.

He did not say anything this time.

He only held the door.

She went down to the lobby and out into the cold.

The valet took her ticket, and she stood on the curb with her arms wrapped around herself.

Beck came out behind her, carrying her wrap from the bar stool where she had left it.

"You forgot this."

"Thank you," she said stiffly.

"I can drive you. You shouldn't be on the highway tonight."

"I don't ride with the people who watched."

He nodded.

"My number's in Stanton's phone under Rylander," he said. "Use it when you want the rest of what I know."

"Why would I want anything from you?"

"Because I'm the only one in that room who's ever going to say it to your face."

The valet pulled up her old hatchback.

She snatched the wrap, got in and shut the door.

Her phone buzzed on the seat.

It was the bank.

Your joint checking account has been closed at the request of the other account holder. Your joint savings account has been closed at the request of the other account holder.

She read the alert once.

Then she looked up through the windshield at the hotel, and on the second floor a man in a wrong-buttoned shirt was holding a phone to his ear and watching her through the glass.

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