The Day My Husband Called Me His Sister Chapter 01

The Day My Husband Called Me His Sister Chapter 01

After the car accident, I faked amnesia. My husband had always been hopeless at romance, so I figured I’d mess with him a little. I looked him dead in the eye and asked who he was.

He blinked. Then, in the softest voice imaginable, he said, “I’m your brother.”

I slid my hand toward his abs. “The kind of brother I’m allowed to date?”

He caught my wrist before I made contact. “Don’t make it weird. I’m your actual brother.”

That only made it better. “Ooh, forbidden love. The internet eats that up.”

Then I found out I was pregnant. My husband was over the moon.

But when I told him I was getting an abortion, he completely lost it. “Why? Why would you do that?”

I didn’t even blink. “The brother thing is cute as a fantasy. But nobody actually has a baby with their brother.”

…

I’ve always been the kind of person who’d rather die than look stupid.

Other kids fell down and got back up. I fell down and pretended I meant to lie there. Just taking a nap. Totally on purpose.

So when Adrian Hartwell pursued me—and I mean really chased me—and then married me? That was the ultimate flex.

Adrian was the youngest associate professor at Cresthaven University. Tall, gorgeous, effortlessly untouchable. Every time he lectured, the entire hall turned into a wall of phone cameras.

After the wedding, nothing changed. He still treated me like I was made of glass, packing my lunches, making sure I never left without a coat, the whole thing.

Everyone we knew had the same reaction: “A mature guy who actually takes care of you? You hit the jackpot.”

But the man was painfully, catastrophically bad at being romantic.

I’d literally ask him to kiss me, and he’d peck my cheek, press his lips to my forehead, and then pat me on the head like a golden retriever.

So when he called himself my brother? I was thrilled.

The man had finally learned how to role-play.

The accident itself wasn’t serious. A few bruises, a mild concussion, nothing dramatic.

But when I came to, Adrian was slumped in the chair next to my bed, looking like he hadn’t slept in days.

Something in my chest went soft. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to make him smile.

I did not expect him to skip right past the cute amnesia bit and go full forbidden-sibling storyline.

But if he was committing to the bit, there was no way I was breaking character first.

So I kept it going. For an entire week.

Every single day, I had to physically restrain myself from grabbing his chest. The man’s pecs were testing the structural integrity of every shirt he owned.

By the end of the week, Adrian had fully bought it. He ruffled my hair, gentle as ever.

“Paige, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“My wife is here in this hospital too. Your sister-in-law.”

“You probably don’t remember her because of your amnesia. But if you’re feeling up to it, I can take you to see her.”

I almost laughed out loud.

I could already picture it: Adrian walking me to a mirror, pointing at my reflection, and going, “This is my wife.”

But he led me down the corridor and stopped outside a different room.

He pushed open the door.

A woman I’d never seen before was lying in the bed.

“Paige, you’re here?”

Her eyes went soft when she saw me. “Adrian told me about the accident and how you lost your memory. I’ve been so worried.” She reached for me. “Come here, let me look at you… Oh, thank God. You aren’t badly hurt.”

Adrian’s hand pressed lightly against my back, nudging me forward.

“Paige, this is my wife. Evelyn.”

My mind went blank.

Who was she?

For a second, I wondered if I really had lost my memory.

But I remembered our wedding perfectly. I knew exactly where our marriage license was filed. My name next to Adrian’s.

Evelyn Hawthorne’s face creased with worry. “Paige, it’s okay. After everything you’ve been through, it’s completely normal that you don’t remember me.”

She smiled, almost bashful. “Adrian and I go way back. We grew up together. When he used to come over to my house, my dad always joked that he was like a big brother to me. I hated that.”

She laughed softly. “I didn’t understand why back then. But when I got older, I realized it was because I already had a crush on him. So when we ended up together, it just… felt right.”

What was she talking about?

If she was married to my husband, then what the hell was I?

“Where’s the marriage license?”

The words came out before I could stop them. “You say the two of you are married. So where’s the license?”

Evelyn’s smile faltered, just for a second. “Of course we have one. It’s filed away at home. Once I’m out of the hospital…”

“I don’t want to wait.” I cut her off. “I want to see it now.”

Evelyn’s gaze slid past me to Adrian. A silent plea.

“Then… should Adrian go get it for you?”

“I want to see it right now.”

My voice pitched higher than I meant it to. “If you’re really married, there’d be photos, right? Wedding photos on your phone, on Instagram, something. Show me. Right now.”

I was shaking. “If you can’t, then you’re lying.”

Whatever color was left in Evelyn’s face vanished.

“That’s enough.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. When he spoke, his voice was low, the same voice you’d use to scold a kid acting out in public.

“Evelyn isn’t like you. She’s fragile. Don’t push her like this.”

Right on cue, Evelyn pressed a hand over her mouth and broke into a ragged coughing fit.

“Evelyn!”

Adrian was at her side in a second, one arm around her shoulders, the other rubbing slow circles on her back. Like he’d done it a thousand times.

I stood in the doorway alone, gauze still taped to my forehead, and felt the burn behind my eyes before the first tear even fell.