Swapped: His Dead Wife's Revenge

June's Pov 

"So, our next appointment will be in three weeks' time," Dr. Miller said gently, flipping through my file. "Try not to stress yourself, June. You're doing well."

I nodded, my hands resting on my stomach without thinking. It still felt unreal.

"Twins," I said quietly, more to myself than to her.

She smiled. "Yes. Two healthy babies."

Four years.

Four long years of prayers, tears, silent arguments, hope that rose and fell like waves. Frederick and I had wanted this for so long that I had almost taught myself not to expect it. And now, here they were. Two lives growing inside me.

Dr. Miller went over the medications again, reminding me when to take them and what to avoid. I listened carefully, asking questions, nodding when needed. Frederick was supposed to be here today. He had promised. But work had come up, something important, he said. I didn't push. I never did.

"Rest as much as you can," she added. "And don't miss your vitamins."

"I won't," I promised.

We exchanged goodbyes, and I walked out of the clinic feeling light and heavy at the same time.

Inside my car, I sat there for a moment and took a deep breath. Twins. I smiled before I even realized it.

I reached for my phone and called Blue.

Yes, Blue. Like the color. And me...June. Like the month. Weird, I know. But somehow, we fit. We always had. We'd been best friends long before I married Frederick, long before life became... complicated.

She answered after a few rings.

"June," she said quickly. "I'm so sorry, I can't meet up today."

I frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"I'm with Finn."

I straightened. "Your ex?" I asked. "Not again, Blue. You know what he did to you."

There was a pause. Then she sighed. "I know. But I promise, June. He's changed. We just want to talk things over. That's why I'm here."

"Talk things over?" I scoffed. "Blue, I know you. You've probably already had sex"

The line went quiet.

"I said it," I added softly.

"You can't blame me, June," she said, her voice breaking. "I love him."

I closed my eyes. "I know you do. Just... use your head this time, not only your heart."

"I promise," she said.

"I love you," she added before hanging up.

"I love you too," I whispered to the dead line.

Since Blue had canceled, I decided to head home. As I drove, my thoughts wandered. I imagined two little children running through the house, their laughter filling every corner. Toys everywhere. Noise. Chaos. Life. I imagined complaining about the mess while secretly loving every second of it.

For the first time in years, the future didn't feel empty.

I wished my parents were here.

At a red light, I looked up at the sky through the windshield. "I hope you're watching over your daughter," I murmured. "And your grandchildren."

When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed the porch light was on.

I was sure I had turned it off.

I didn't think much of it as I stepped inside.

Then I saw the clothes.

A shirt on the floor. Then another. Female clothing. Not mine. My heart skipped, but my feet kept moving slowly.

There were more clothes as I walked down the hallway. Male. Female. None of it made sense.

The sounds reached me before the truth did.

Not voices. Not laughter. Just... something wrong.

I stopped in front of our bedroom door. My hand shook as I reached for the handle.

When I opened it, my world broke.

There, on our king-sized bed with the sheets I'd picked out myself, was Frederick. My husband, the man I'd trusted with everything, my heart, my future, my family's legacy.

 He was naked, his head thrown back in ecstasy, fingers buried deep inside a woman I didn't know, her legs spread wide as she arched against him. And kneeling between Frederick's thighs, his mouth wrapped around my husband's cock, was Julian. 

Frederick's best friend from college, the one who'd stood as best man at our wedding. 

Time froze. The woman's eyes met mine first, widening in shock as she scrambled back. Julian pulled away, his lips glistening, a flush of guilt and surprise coloring his face. Frederick's head snapped up, his expression shifting from pleasure to horror in an instant.

The words inside my mouth kept crashing into each other,,,scream, curse, beg, run, but nothing would come out except this small, broken sound: "What... is this?"

Frederick flinched like I'd slapped him. He tried to stand, cock still half-hard and glistening, ridiculous and obscene in the lamplight. "June, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry-"

Sorry. The word landed like spit.

Julian stayed exactly where he was, on his knees on the rug, lips swollen and shiny. He didn't even try to cover himself. Instead he smiled slowly and satisfied, the kind of smile you give when you've already won the game and the other player doesn't know the rules yet.

Frederick reached for his boxers, fumbling. "June, listen..."

But Julian spoke first, voice calm, almost gentle. "If you're going to stop pretending, Frederick," Julian said, "this is the right time. She was going to find out sooner or later."

Right time?

The pity drained from Frederick's face so fast it left me dizzy. One second his eyes were wide with guilt; the next they narrowed, cold and bored, like I was a tedious commercial he wanted to skip.

"You know what?" he said, straightening. "He's right. I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired."

"Tired of what?" My voice cracked on the last word.

"Of you." He laughed once, short and mean. "Tired of you wanting me to be this perfect husband, this perfect father. Tired of the perfect-family fantasy you keep shoving down my throat. You don't even know me, June. You never asked what I want. What actually pleases me." His gaze raked over me, dismissive. "And you're terrible in bed. Just... terrible."

The room tilted.

"No," I whispered. "No. Frederick...tell me this is a joke. Tell me I'm dreaming." My palm cracked across my own cheek, once, twice-hard enough that my ears rang. "Wake up. Wake up."

He sighed like I was embarrassing myself. "Stop wounding yourself, June. You don't have to slap your face to make this real."

My hands dropped. Tears burned tracks down my cheeks but I couldn't feel them. "I'm pregnant. For you. We're having babies."

He shrugged. "And?"

"And?" My voice rose, shrill. "They're ours!"

"Spare me." He rolled his eyes. "Who wants the stress of two little bastards running around here anyway?"

Bastards.

The word hit like a fist to the sternum. I lurched forward before I could think, palm cracking across his cheek so hard his head snapped sideways.

"You dare not," I hissed. "You dare not call my children bastards."

He touched his jaw, and smiled so devilishly, nothing like the man I'd shared a bed with for four years.

"You know what?" he said softly. "We're going to give you a show."

He turned to Julian. "On your knees, Julian."

Julian obeyed instantly with eagerness. He shifted forward on his knees, right in front of me, eyes flicking up to meet mine for one deliberate second before he wrapped his hand around Frederick and guided him back into his mouth.

I should have run.

I should have screamed, thrown something, clawed his eyes out.

But my feet were cemented to the hardwood. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

Julian moved with practiced rhythm, slow at first, then deeper, wet sounds filling the room. Frederick groaned and threaded his fingers into Julian's short hair, guiding him.

The other woman rose gracefully from the bed. She stepped behind Frederick, pressed herself against his back, and slid her hands up his chest to toy with his nipples. She looked straight at me and smiled the same cruel, victorious smile Julian had worn earlier.

Julian picked up speed. Faster. Wetter. Frederick's head tipped back, eyes rolling shut, mouth open in pure, shameless pleasure.

"Fuck," he breathed. "Yes-just like that."

Inside my skull a voice shrieked: Get out. Get out get out GET OUT.

But my body wouldn't listen.

He came with a guttural moan, hips jerking. Julian didn't pull away. He took it all, then sat back on his heels, chin and lips streaked, smiling up at Frederick like he'd just been given a prize.

I finally turned toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Frederick's voice was lazy, amused.

I froze.

Julian tilted his head, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"What?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Frederick said, tucking himself back into his boxers with casual indifference. "I'm not going to beg you to stay. But you're not leaving without your things, June."