His Best Friend, My New Husband

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The first thing I did when I got my sight back was run to find my husband, Michael.

I couldn't wait to share the incredible news.

But I stopped dead outside the door to his private suite, his voice drifting out as he chatted with his friends.

Michael, man, one of them slurred, Emily's been blind for two years. You had David pretend to be you and live with her that whole time, just so you could be with your childhood sweetheart. Aren't you worried he and your wife might, you know... make the act a little too real?

"What's there to worry about?"

Michael scoffed, taking a swig of his drink.

His laugh was reckless.

"David's got insane self-control. I've seen supermodels throw themselves at him, stark naked, and he didn't even flinch. You think he's gonna touch her?"

He paused, his tone dripping with contempt.

"Besides, Emily's frigid. As long as David doesn't make a move, she wouldn't even think about it."

The room erupted in crude jokes.

"Damn, I don't know who to feel sorry for, Emily or David. Two gorgeous people in one bed, doing nothing but talking? What a waste, hahaha!"

The laughter echoed, sharp and cruel.

My gaze drifted to the man sitting alone in the center of the room, silently nursing his drink.

David Foster.

Coolly elegant, with an air of aristocratic aloofness.

To have a man that fine and not touch him...

I had to admit, it was a bit of a shame.

Looking back, the signs had been there all along.

During the two years of my blindness, "Michael" had grown distant, his words sparse, a wall of formality between us. I'd felt it, but wrapped in the shame and helplessness of my condition, I never dared to say a word.

My thoughts were shattered by the click of the front door.

A familiar voice, deliberately low, spoke from behind me.

"Emily, I'm home."

David's voice was naturally similar to Michael's, and with him consciously mimicking it, it was no wonder I'd been fooled for two years.

I looked up, letting my gaze drift vaguely toward the handsome man before me.

The most famously self-disciplined bachelor in Manhattan's elite, a man who played by no one's rules.

Why on earth would he agree to play this game with Michael?

To act out this charade with me for two whole years?

Well, if they loved to act, I'd be happy to play along.

Pretending I still couldn't see, I fumbled my way toward him and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him into an embrace.

"Honey, you're finally home."

I squeezed him tight, my hand conveniently brushing against the firm planes of his abdomen.

In two years, David had been the model of restraint.

Even sharing a bed, he always kept a careful distance.

We'd never been this close.

He stiffened, clearly startled by my forwardness.

His voice was a little tight.

"Emily... what's gotten into you today?"

I forced a few tears to my eyes, my voice a wounded whisper.

"Michael, you haven't touched me since I went blind. Is it... is it because you don't want me anymore?"

David's expression faltered.

He softened his tone, trying to soothe me.

"No, you're overthinking it... The accident two years ago was hard on your body. I was just worried you couldn't handle it."

"My body's fine now," I purred, my voice dropping.

"I can handle it."

My fingers fumbled their way to his shirt, unbuttoning it, my palm pressing against the solid warmth of his chest.

"Honey, it's been two years. You must have been working so hard to hold back, haven't you?"

David's Adam's apple bobbed.

His voice was raspy.

"...Yeah. It's been... fine."

I blew a soft breath against his throat.

"So, what if we..."

Before I could finish, his phone rang, shattering the moment.

"I should get this."

David let out a breath he seemed to have been holding and walked out to the balcony with his phone.

I crept to the window, listening as Michael's lazy voice crackled through the speaker.

"David, Grandfather's birthday is tomorrow. You're on duty. We'll switch."

David paused for a beat.

"Fine."

"Haven't swapped with you in months. Catch me up on what's been going on with you and Emily so I don't blow my cover."

I could hear Michael's friends laughing in the background.

"Come on, Michael," one of them teased, "juggling your wife and your true love. Who's more important to you, really?"

Michael let out a cold, cynical laugh.

"Are you kidding? How could you even compare Emily to Chloe? Emily threw herself at me for years; I couldn't get rid of her if I tried. Chloe... she's the one I fought for. If my grandfather didn't have such a soft spot for Emily, I never would have married her in the first place."

His words hung in the air, each one a shard of ice in my heart.

A bitter, self-mocking laugh tried to escape my throat.

He was right.

I had chased him for years.

From sixteen to twenty-six.

A decade of my life spent running after him.

I'd finally gotten my wish and married him.

Only to find that the man sharing my bed every night was his best friend.

For two years, my life had been a pathetic, cosmic joke.

That night, I wrapped myself around David and slept in his arms.

I could feel the tension radiating from his body, his muscles rigid all night long.

When I woke the next morning, David was gone.

In his place stood Michael, dressed impeccably, a smile plastered on his face.

"You're awake? Get up, get ready. We're going to Grandfather's birthday banquet."

I stretched languidly, letting out a deliberately sultry moan.

"Honey, you were so tense last night. My back is aching from you pressing into me all night long~"

The smile froze on Michael's face.

His expression turned ugly.

The drive to the Reed estate was silent.

A storm cloud of fury hung over him, his face a mask of cold frost.

But as we entered the grand hall, he plastered on a look of affection, taking my hand and forcing a smile for his grandfather.

"Grandfather, wishing you a long and happy life!"

The old man was thrilled to see me, pulling me aside to chat for what felt like an eternity.

The party was a sea of faces.

I saw David, the man I'd held all night, standing coolly by the bar.

And I saw her.

Michael's precious Chloe.

Chloe's eyes found me, filled with undisguised contempt and a taunting smirk.

I feigned blindness, my gaze empty, ignoring her completely.

Midway through the banquet, I excused myself to the restroom.

As I was coming out, Chloe appeared, walking straight toward me.

The moment our shoulders brushed, there was a splash.

A full glass of red wine cascaded over my head.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry," she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy.

"My hand just slipped."

I calmly reached for the mop leaning against the wall by the restroom door.

I lifted it.

And I swung it right in her face.

"Ah!"

Chloe shrieked, a sound of pure hysteria.

"Emily Reed, what the hell are you doing!"

I feigned a startled realization.

"Oh, dear, I'm so sorry! I'm blind, you see. I was just trying to use the mop as a cane. Did I hit you?"

Dripping with filthy mop water, Chloe was livid.

She raised her hand to slap me.

I raised the mop again and swung.

"Stop!"

Two voices shouted in unison from down the hall.

Michael and David were striding toward us, their faces grim, a few servants trailing behind them.

Chloe, tears streaming down her face, threw herself into Michael's arms.

"Michael, your wife just attacked me with a mop! You have to do something!"

"Emily, apologize!"

Michael's voice was ice.

I stumbled, pretending to be disoriented, and collapsed into David's arms.

"Honey, I'm so sorry," I sobbed.

"I just can't see... I didn't mean to. Please don't be mad at me."

Michael stood frozen, his face a thunderous shade of black as he stared at me clinging to his best friend.

David patted my back, his voice a low rumble meant to sound like Michael's.

"I'm not mad. It's not your fault."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Michael's expression darken to a murderous rage.

A thrill of victory shot through me.

I pressed my face deeper into David's chest, sniffing.

"Honey, I'm all wet and sticky. It's so uncomfortable. Could you... could you help me with a bath? And maybe rub my back...?"

The hand on my back froze.

David's voice was a bit stiff.

"I... suppose I could..."

"Mrs. Davis!"

Michael's voice cut through the air, sharp with fury and a possessive edge.

He interrupted us with a command.

"Take my wife to get cleaned up and changed. Now!"

After changing, I was walking down a quiet corridor when I came across Michael and David talking.

Michael's face was a mask of fury.

He interrogated David in a low, sharp voice.

"David, I thought you had no interest in women. Why are you getting worked up over Emily?"

David lit a cigarette, taking a moment before answering.

"I'm a man, Michael, not a saint. You can be the most ascetic monk in the world, but if a beautiful, half-naked woman keeps throwing herself at you, you're going to have a reaction."

Michael looked stunned, his face twisting in disbelief.

"But Emily... she's always been so cold, so distant... David, you have to promise me. No matter how tempted you are, you will not touch her. This is a game, and at the end of it, she is still my wife."

"And you just remembered that?"

David blew a dismissive smoke ring, his expression mocking.

"You've spent the last two years wining and dining your precious Chloe. Have you given a single damn about your wife in all that time?"

Michael fell silent.

David let out a short, harsh laugh.

"If you love Chloe so much, just divorce Emily and be done with it."

"I can't!"

Michael's reaction was visceral.

"Emily and I... we grew up together. I still have feelings for her... But I chased Chloe for so long. She finally said yes. I can't just let her go..."

"Hah."

David stubbed out his cigarette, his voice dripping with contempt.

"Scumbag."

I didn't wait to hear more.

I turned and walked away.

Michael Reed.

You want your childhood sweetheart, but you don't want to give up your devoted wife.

But you can't have it both ways.

The world doesn't work like that.

...

The banquet ended, and Michael drove me home.

As we pulled up, I saw David waiting by the front door.

Michael handed me off to him without a word and drove away without a backward glance.

Once inside, I went straight to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, I called out.

"Honey, I think I slipped! I hit my shoulder. Can you come in and help me with some ointment?"

Soon, the bathroom door clicked open.

David walked in, a tube of cream in his hand.

I was draped loosely in a towel, my hair damp, water still trickling down my skin.

David's gaze locked on me for a second before he quickly looked away, fumbling with the cap on the tube.

I feigned another slip, stumbling dramatically and falling right into his arms.

The towel slithered to the floor.

Our bodies pressed together, hot skin on hot skin.

The tips of David's ears went crimson.

He tried to push me away, his voice strangled.

"Emily, you..."

I silenced him with a kiss.

He was rigid for a moment, but then all resistance melted away.

His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, and he returned the kiss with a fiery intensity I never knew he possessed.

Coming up for air, my hands went to the buckle of his belt.

My voice was a husky whisper.

"Honey, we've been married for so long... isn't it about time we had a baby?"

David's Adam's apple bobbed violently.

His voice was raw.

"...Okay. Whatever you want."

With that, he swept me into his arms and carried me to the bedroom.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

David ignored it, silencing it with a flick of his thumb.

"Aren't you going to..."

He swallowed the rest of my words with another kiss.

From the afternoon until deep into the night, David was like a starved wolf that had finally gotten a taste, insatiable and relentless.

I was so exhausted I fell asleep in his arms.

In a hazy, half-conscious state, I heard him take a call, his voice a low whisper.

"I know."

"I won't touch her."

"You don't trust me? Fine, don't."

"Make a vow? I don't believe in that superstitious crap."

After he hung up, I felt him lean close to my ear, his breath warm. "Emily," he murmured, "why did you have to love only him?"

I wanted to tell him I didn't anymore.

But I was too tired, already sinking back into a deep, heavy sleep.

After that first time, it was like a dam had broken.

David was an addict, and I was his drug.

He craved me constantly.

For two straight months, he neglected everything else, dedicating himself entirely to me.

As for Michael, I heard he'd taken Chloe on a vacation abroad.

I hadn't seen him in two months.

One day, I wasn't feeling well, so David took me to the hospital.

And there, at the entrance, we ran right into Michael and Chloe, who had just returned to the country.

"What a coincidence," Chloe chirped first, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"I've been feeling so nauseous lately, with no appetite. I wonder if we just had a little too much fun on our trip and... well, you know. What are you two here for?"

David shot her a cold look.

"Emily wasn't feeling well. I brought her for a check-up."

Michael, afraid of blowing his cover, said nothing, but his eyes were glued to the faint red marks on my neck, his face a terrifying mask of cold fury.

I pretended not to see any of it, walking past them with a calm, placid expression.

But just as I passed Chloe, she let out a sudden "Ah!" and stumbled backward, falling dramatically into a decorative fountain nearby.

Michael's face contorted in panic.

He immediately jumped into the water to pull her out.

Soaking wet, Chloe burst into hysterical sobs.

"Michael, your wife pushed me! I swear I didn't do anything to her, why does she keep attacking me?"

Michael's face was a storm cloud of rage as he rounded on me.

"Emily Reed, apologize to Chloe! Now!"

I almost laughed.

It was always like this.

He never asked, never investigated.

He just condemned me.

"Why should I apologize for something I didn't do?"

His eyes turned glacial, his voice like cracking ice.

"If it wasn't you, who was it? She was walking right past you! Do you think she just jumped in herself? You lost your sight, did you lose your heart, too?"

All these years, no matter how much I gave, how much I loved him, Chloe was always his first priority.

I let out a cold snort.

"I will not apologize."

"You don't have a choice!"

He kicked the back of my knee, hard, forcing me to my knees on the cold pavement.

He grabbed my head, trying to force me to bow in apology to her.

"Let her go!"

David lunged forward, yanking Michael's hand away, his eyes blazing with a quiet fury.

"Don't you touch her."

Michael ground his teeth, his face a mask of pure rage.

In the middle of the struggle, a wave of dizziness washed over me.

All my strength drained away, and I felt myself falling backward.

Just before I hit the ground, two voices cried out in unison.

"Emily!"

David caught my limp body, but Michael instantly snatched me from his arms.

"Emily, what's wrong?"

"Emily, wake up!"

"I'm sorry, Emily, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been so rough with you, just wake up..."

Michael lifted me into his arms and sprinted toward the emergency room.

Outside the ER, Michael stared daggers at David, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

"David, you're going to explain to me what those marks are all over Emily's neck."

David scoffed.

"Right now, don't you think you should be more concerned about her health?"

Just then, the doors to the ER swung open.

A doctor walked out, pulling down his mask.

"It's nothing serious. The patient is just pregnant. The emotional distress caused her to faint. She'll wake up soon."

"What... did you say?"

Michael looked like he'd been struck by lightning, his face a canvas of pure shock.