Clara’ POV

I left Dr. Monroe’s office. Tears striking down my cheeks, my vision blurry.

I couldn't explain it but the knot in my chest was something too hard for me to handle.

The air outside was heavy. It's weight pressing down against my skin as if mocking the emptiness inside me.

The doctor's words kept echoing in my head…“I’m sorry, Clara. You’re not pregnant.”

And then the cycle started all over again.

That pregnancy was my last straw. My last hope in saving my marriage.

A hope I had carried like a fragile flower in my heart. Dreaming, longing for the day I’d hold a tiny life in my arms.

Thinking that Ethan’s mother would smile at me. That Ethan himself would cherish me like before.

Now that dream was gone, crushed before it even had the chance to bloom.

As the driver stopped in front of our home, I wiped my tears with the back of my hand as I steadied myself. My heart a bleeding mess. My emotions spiraling.

My hands shook as I closed the door and glanced at the house I and my family lived in.

A house that was once a prison yard for me. Same house I had fought for my marriage and succeeded. My husband gazed at me with affection. My son looked at me and smiled. Now it was worse than before.

And I didn't know how to solve it.

I walked towards the door only to find it open.

That was strange. Truly strange. Ethan had never been the type to leave the door unlocked when he left.

We both took safety precautions seriously. And this was the one thing that we both never neglected.

I paused for some seconds before stepping inside, my heels clicking softly against the tiled floor.

“Ethan?” I called, but my voice came out small, broken and weak.

No one answered.

The silence pressed on me, thick and suffocating. I could only hear the faint hum of the air conditioner. The ticking of the wall clock and nothing else.

I walked towards the hallway. My eyes scanning through the every room in the house.

Everything was in order. The throw pillows, the framed wedding picture of Ethan and me smiling like fools in love.

Nothing seemed out of place. But why did it make me feel tense. Fear. Anxiety all at once.

Moving towards our bedroom. I finally knew what was wrong.

I heard it. I doubted what I heard but I wasn't a fool. His grunts of pleasure. Her moans. The smacking of skin against another.

A mix of pleasure and something raw. I wasn't new to that sound. That was the sound I heard when Ethan claimed like the stranger I doubted. Like the new man who had graced my marriage after that same accident.

I didn't want to believe it. But then I heard his name on her lips.

“Ughhhh…. Just like that… Deeper Ethan… Faster”

My heart dropped.

Then another sound followed. A man’s voice. Deep and Familiar. Groans of a man and a woman reaching their orgasms.

“Argh, fuck me harder, Ethan.”

My blood turned cold.

No. That couldn’t be what I am thinking, I must be dreaming.

But the sounds kept coming…moans, gasps, the wet rhythm of skin slapping against skin.

My stomach twisted as my knees wobbled making me lose my balance had I not held onto the wall. The world around me seemed to stop as I pressed my trembling hand against the wall to steady myself.

“You like it, don't you? Me drilling this pussy and leaving my seed inside you. Such a slut. My slut” I heard Ethan say as his thrusts increased.

“Oh yes, baby. Just like that… Fuck me like that… Go harder!” the woman moaned back. Her whimpers filling the air.

Each sound stabbed into me like a knife. My mind screamed for me to walk away. To run far away. So far that I wouldn’t hear it…

But my body betrayed me. I moved slowly, step by step toward the door. My pulse pounding in my ears.

And then the stench hit me. Sweat, sex and cum scents filled the air.

With a shaking breath, I pushed the door open.

And what I saw made me wish I hadn't come back home at all.

Ethan. With another woman. My husband, was on top of another woman.

His back flexed with every thrust, his hands gripping her thighs. Her legs were hooked over his shoulders, her nails clawing into his skin.

They didn’t notice me at first; lost in the throws of lust and passion.

While I breathed in their betrayal.

Then Ethan turned slightly, and his eyes met mine.

He froze.

I couldn’t breathe. It all felt like a dream.

And then I saw her face.

Juliet. His Aunt, his mother's sister that babysitted him when he was a kid.

The woman I had welcomed into our home so many times. The woman who smiled politely at me was fucking with my husband.

Beneath him. Hickeys marred against her fair skin as if it were a treasure map.

I felt my breath cut short. My throat tightened until it hurt to breathe.

My mind screamed that this was a nightmare, that any moment I’d wake up…but I didn’t. It was real.

My husband's dick, buried in his aunt's pussy. My husband… His dick… Another woman… Our bed.

Ethan jerked back, pulling out from her, screaming as he was about to come, Julie immediately shouted.

Fuck!

“What the hell are doing here you bitch! Are you insane?”

I couldn't find my voice for a second, but there was no shame in Juliet's eyes.

She sluggishly reached for the bedsheet, wrapping it around herself as she stood.

Her lipstick was smeared, her hair wild, her skin flushed. She didn’t even flinch under my gaze.

“Ethan tell me this isn't true. Please” I begged. I would do anything, give up anything inorder to erase what I just saw.

But his silence made the cut of the betrayal run deep.

“What the hell is going on here, Ethan?” I screamed. Near to the brink of losing my sanity.

My voice cracked. Anger and pain the only emotions I was now capable of feeling.

“You and your Aunt. In out home. In our matrimonial bed”

I then turned to Juliet, trembling.

“And you… How could you do this? He’s your nephew for goodness sake. I trusted you. How could you do this?”

“Answer me, how long?”

Juliet rolled her eyes, struggling with her oddings as she tried to put it on as if nothing happened.

“Enough,” she snapped. “You just ruined our moment. Do you even know what you just did? We were right there…at the sweetest part, and now he’s not even in the mood anymore.”

My mouth fell open in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable,” I whispered.

“Listen to me, Clara,” Ethan cut in sharply, his voice cold, his eyes full of something I couldn’t recognize.

“I do not owe you a single explanation in my house. So don't think for a second you can waltz in here anytime you like and question me. And if I hear about this outside, I swear I’ll deal with you.”

I stared at him, whatever left of my heart shattered more. This wasn't my Ethan. This wasn't the Ethan that promised me that no matter which turn we take in the future, he would always be loyal. The stern look of disgust and anger marred on his face was all I needed to know.

This was the Ethan that survived that accident. The new man who had graced my marriage after he woke up from a coma. The Ethan who didn't give a shit.

Juliet bent to pick up her heels, slipped them on, and adjusted her blouse. She gave me a smug look as she brushed past, her shoulder knocking against mine.

The scent of her perfume filled my nose, and I nearly gagged.

Ethan followed her out, buttoning his trousers in a hurry. The door slammed behind them, leaving only silence.

I felt whatever willpower left in me evaporate as I slumped on the floor.

The pain in my chest made me feel like it would snap into two. I glanced at the sheets that were still tangled. The air still heavy with their scent. Every corner of the room felt tainted.

The tears I had been holding in broke out. The memories crashed into my head all at once. My marriage, our fights, the day I gave birth to Ryan, the day Ethan finally opened up to me. The accident, the new Ethan, the harsh one. The one who just cheated on me.

My husband had cheated on me. And worse, he acted like it was normal.

And it made me wonder, when will I ever be enough for them?

Ethan's POV

Nathan and I were born just a few minutes apart, just like every other twin out there.

But our mum always said I cried first and came out first.

She would tell the same story like it meant something. Like a proof that I was the one meant to stay.

Maybe that’s why I remained with them, while Nathan was sent away to stay with aunt in Manchester.

We were just kids then, barely old enough to understand what being separated meant.

But the memory burned every time I thought of it.

I could still remember the day he left. The way his tiny hands slipped from mine, and how he looked back through the car window as it drove away.

He left on the day of our tenth birthday. And I had never seen him again since then.

Our parents always claimed that it was for our own good, that people didn’t need to know much about two sons.

“It would complicate inheritance,” They always said. So to get rid of their ‘problem’, they arranged the proposal that Nathan would inherit all companies dad had in Manchester while I got the ones here.

And just like that, I and my brother became strangers living parallel lives.

When Dad died, the truth was buried with him. Nathan’s name was never mentioned again. His existence felt like it was erased from our walls, our documents, our stories.

And sometimes I wondered if things would have been different if our parents hadn't separated us. Would both of us be best friends like every other twin out there? Or would we still have landed in the same spot.

And oh my sweet Clara.

She never knew about him. How could she?

How could I tell her about a brother who was practically invisible… Someone even I hadn’t seen in over two decades?

She would’ve asked questions I wasn’t ready to answer. So, I told her my family was small and I was the only son, the company was all I had left.

She brought light into that cold house. For a while, her laughter softened the edges of my loneliness.

I thought I had buried the shadows of my past for good. But when Nathan came back after my accident. Same face. Same steps. Like glancing at a mirror.

The only difference was his gaze. Cold, distant, malicious.

He came back not as my brother, but as my reflection, claiming my name, my life, my world.

But before that. Before everything fell apart…here was Clara.

And there was the truth I hid from her. The truth that could wreck our future. That could lead to her leaving me alone in this bleak world.

She was my achilles heel. My very own ray of sunshine.

After Ryan was born, Dr. Monroe told me the news that changed everything.

I was sitting in that cold office, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air. She spoke in that calm, professional voice most doctors use when they’re about to break your soul.

“Ethan,” she said softly, “You won't have a child again. You're infertile.”

I blinked at her, trying to make sense of what she had said. “Infertile? That’s… impossible.”

“I’m afraid it’s not,” she replied gently. “The tests confirm it. You won’t be able to have children again.”

The words hit me like a slap on my cheek. I walked out of that office feeling less of a man, feeling empty.

For years, Clara and I tried. Month after month, she’d cry in the bathroom, clutching another negative test. And I as stupid as I was. I made her believe it was her fault.

I blamed her. I pushed her away. And my mother, cruel as she was, joined me.

“She can’t even give you another child,” she’d complained.

“A good for nothing. Spineless. A gold digger who used you and your influence to save her parents from the tight clutches of poverty”

I should have told her the truth. Hell, I could have defended Clara in front of my family. But instead, I let my pride rot me from the inside.

Until the morning that changed everything.

It started like any other day. Clara making breakfast, Ryan still asleep. I was already late for a meeting and angry for no real reason. When the coffee spilled on my suit, it was like fire to a fuse.

“Are you stupid, Clara?” I yelled, slamming the cup down. “Can’t you do one thing right?”

“I’m sorry, Ethan,” she stammered, her voice shaking. “It was an accident…”

“An accident?” I grabbed her by the arm. “You’re always making mistakes! Always ruining things and giving unnecessary excuses!”

“Please…” The look of hurt written all over her face.

But I didn’t listen. Before she could say a word, I slapped her on her cheek. The sound of the slap echoed through the dinning, followed by her muffled sob.

For a second, everything went still. The look in her eyes broke me, but I turned away. I told myself she deserved it. I told myself I deserved to be angry.

I left the house with my heart pounding, my mind spinning. Guilt mixed with rage as I got into my car. I pressed harder on the accelerator, trying to outrun my thoughts, the guilt, the shame.

But you can’t outrun your shadow. No matter how fast you think you are.

My hands grabbed the steering wheel tightly, anger, guilt and an unending wave of fury clouding my emotions.

The last thing I remember was a horn blaring, a flash of headlights and then nothing.

When I woke up, I found myself in the hospital bed. My head throbbed like it was splitting open.

“Ethan?” a voice whispered. It was my mother. Her face hovered above mine, pale and drawn. I could see a sign of relief on herself.

“What… happened?” My voice sounded strange. “Where am I?” I asked.

“You had an accident,” she said, brushing a hand over my hair. “You’ve been in a coma for three weeks.”

Three weeks.

It felt impossible. I tried to remember, but my thoughts were like shattered glass. Every time I reached for one, it cut through me.

Then came the doctor, with clipboard in his hand.

He kept on rambling my diagnosis to my mum. I wasn't in the mood to pay any attention to whatever they were saying. The only thing I could do was keep on looking around for her.

Did she know?

What did they tell her?

Does she hate me?

My Clara.

The only thing I could pick up from the doctor was the fact that I had a short term memory loss as a result of the accident. But it would wear off after a few days.

But after some months, when I finally began to recall things together again, my mother suggested that Clara shouldn't know about it.

“She mustn’t know you’ve recovered, Ethan,” she said one evening in the hospital, her tone firm. “Not yet.”

“Why not?” I asked, weakly sitting up. “She’s my wife.” I needed her here. I wanted to see her. To hold her. To apologize.

“We have to do something about your infertility. And this is the right time”.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

That was the moment every shadow of my past resurfaced.

The moment my twin brother, Nathan stepped back into my life.

Clara's POV

Completely drenched, I wandered through the street aimlessly, no destination in mind.

The rain poured down heavily on the sheets, soaking my hair, my clothes, and my shoe. As if it understood how I felt. A reflection of my mind.

But I didn’t care. I was blinded by the betrayal and my own tears.

All I wanted was to escape this nightmare.

The image refused to leave my head. Ethan on top of his aunt. His aunt, crying for him.

The betrayal cut deep into my chest like a knife twisting over and over again.

The man I loved, the one I trusted more than anything, was with his aunt. A right that should have been mine alone.

I walked faster, my body trembling, my hands shaking as my breath came in shallow gasps.

Even the rain couldn’t seem to wash away the scene in my head.

At last, I stopped in front of a building alive with loud music and flashing lights.

A nightclub.

Eden. One of Ethan’s biggest businesses. The only one I never set foot in.

The laughter and bass that drifted out through the door seemed to mock my pain.

But maybe that was what I needed, to drown out the noise in my head.

And so, I made my way in.

I just needed something. Anything to distract myself from this nightmare.

Before I left home, I had taken Ryan to stay with my friend, Lilly.

I couldn’t allow my little boy to see me shaking, sobbing.

Without hesitation, I stumbled into the club. The bouncer gave me a long, doubtful look, probably wondering what a soaked woman with swollen eyes was doing walking into his place.

I met his gaze sharply, the kind of look that said don’t mess with me. He backed off and opened the door wider.

The air inside was warm, thick with perfume and sweat. I could barely hear my thoughts over the pounding beat. I

I made my way to the bar, my heels clicking against the marble floor, each step echoing my pain.

I sat down, resting my shaky hands on the counter and ordered for a shot.

The bartender looked at me strangely, doubt showing on his face. “Are you sure, ma’am? You look…”

“I said give me a drink,” I snapped, my voice cracking.

He sighed and poured the drink inside a glass, and pushed it toward me. I grabbed it immediately and drank, the liquid burning down my throat.

It was harsh and bitter, but it was exactly what I wanted.

If only they knew. How wrecked and shattered I was, they would have understood I wasn’t in the mood for water or any soft drink.

I ordered one drink after another. One drink turned into two, then three, and after a while, I lost count.

The room began to spin, the lights blending into one another. The faces around me blurred, the laughter distant and hollow. My vision blurry. And even then I didn't stop.

“Ma'am please. You can't take anymore” I heard the bartender whisper as he took the glass from my hands.

He wasn't wrong though. So I conceded.

I dug my hand into my bag, pulled out some money, and dropped it on the counter. And turned to leave.

As I turned to leave, a voice stopped me.

“Hey, you must be drunk. Let me help you.”

I smiled weakly, the corners of my lips trembling. “Maybe I am,” I whispered, taking another unsteady step.

Before I could fall, strong arms caught me.

“Whoa, easy there,” the voice said again, gentle, deep. “What’s wrong with you?”

His voice was soothing. The kind of voice that made you squirm.

I looked up.

He was a tall man, maybe in his late thirties, his eyes dark but kind. For a second, I thought I saw pity in them, and that made me feel even smaller.

“Could you please take me home?” I said, my voice shaking.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. No problem.”

He took me out of the club and into his car.

The leather seat felt soft against my soaked clothes. As he started the engine, he glanced at me and asked quietly, “What’s your address?”

I thought of telling him where I was going. My home.

But I didn’t want to go back there.

Not tonight. Not to the same bed that reminded me of Ethan, his aunt, and all the lies that shattered me.

I let my head fall against the seat, pretending the alcohol had made me forget.

“I… I don’t remember,” I whispered.

He exhaled softly, glancing at me again. “All right. I’ll take you to my house then. In the morning, you’ll feel better. You can find your way home after that. Is that okay with you?”

I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes, letting the soft hum of the car and the rain against the window blur the pain in my chest.

By the time we got to his house, I was completely tired and wasted.

My head felt like it was splitting, my body felt heavy.

I could no longer control it, even though it wasn’t my body that was truly broken, it was my spirit.

But I needed something to distract me, something to stop my mind from replaying what I had seen.

Something that could serve as an escape. Something within my control.

When he led me inside, the place was warm and quiet.

“You should rest,” he said gently.

But before he could finish, I stepped closer to him and began unbuttoning my shirt.

He froze. “What are you doing?”

I didn’t answer. I just let my shirt slide off my shoulders and drop to the floor. His gaze swept over me, a mix of shock and confusion.

I threw my arms around his neck, pressing my chest against him. Slightly rubbing myself on him as I felt his dick which was wedged between us get harder.

“Are you sure about this, miss?” he asked in his husky voice. I felt my stomach flip when his hot breath fanned my neck.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Nobody is going to find out. As long as you won’t tell anybody about what we did, I’ll pretend like nothing happened.”

I was certain he saw the plea in my eyes…the desperation of a woman trying to erase her pain, even for a moment.

“Please. Fuck me. Make me forget. Anything. Please”, I said moving closer to him as I grabbed the collar of his shirt.

His hesitation melted as his lips captured mine.

The kiss was hot, passionate, and lustful. His hands traveled slowly down my thighs, his touch rough but deliberate.

He lowered his head, his lips finding my skin, tracing it slowly until he reached my breasts sucking and squeezing it.

The passion was enough to drown me. I felt everything and nothing at the same time.

Was this the right thing to do? Am I really going to do this?

When his mouth closed around me, a soft moan escaped my lips.

Every other doubt quickly evaporated from my mind as I kissed him back with the same intensity.

He sucked gently at first, then harder, his tongue claiming mine like he was born to do this.

He positioned me gently on the bed. My ass raised, my head on the pillow, my back arched. I felt his intense gaze on my ass which made me more wet.

Without a word, his palm stroked my ass as my necter dripped. I couldn't help but let out a low moan.

He stood up and came to my front. Positioning his rock hard dick next to my mouth.

“Suck” he muttered as I opened my mouth and took him in as he let out a growl.

The feeling of being dominated under his masculinity. The feeling of finally getting to taste his dick.

I closed my eyes, as I kept bobbing my head, trying to take everything inside me.

The world around me seemed to have disappeared.

Unable to keep up with my pace, he held onto my head and thrust into me, hard, deep, steady.

I gasped, my fingers gripping the sheets.

“Such a sweet mouth you have.

Fuck”

The room filled with the sound of my muffled moans and his groans.

It didn't take long before he lay me down on the bed. And in one swift move, he buried his dick inside me.

I let out a small shriek as his entire cock made me full.

“You're okay right? If it gets too much, just tap on my shoulders. Is that okay?”

I nodded, eager for him to move.

“Words baby. I need words baby.”

He muffled in my ears as he sucked on my neck which made arch into him, his dick pushing into me.

“Fuck baby” he growled as he began his onslaught in my pussy.

“Ughhh… That's it. Just like that” I moaned out as his dick drilled me.

He switched our position , bringing one leg and hanging it on his shoulder inorder to have more access.

It didn't take long before the entire room reeked of sex and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.

Each movement made me forget a little more. Forget Ethan. Forget his aunt. Forget his mother.

After some minutes, I came undone beneath him, my body trembling as I let out a long, broken cry. He followed soon after, breathing heavily, his body collapsing beside mine.

Thoroughly spent, I burrowed myself into his embrace and closed my eyes. Not ready to think of the aftermath of my actions.

*** ***

The next day, I finally opened my eyes.

My mind was wozzy as I recollected all memories from yesterday.

I turned to him as I saw his face in the dim light, strong, serious, almost scary. But I didn’t care. I loved that he had helped me forget, even for a night.

He leaned over and kissed my nipples softly, gently, as though trying to comfort the ache he couldn’t see.

I would have

The next morning, I woke up before him. My head was pounding, but my mind was clear. I slipped out of bed quietly, picked up my shirt, and dressed slowly.

I glanced at him once more, his face peaceful, unaware of the storm still raging inside me. Without a word, I tiptoed out of the house.

I wasn’t ready to talk. I didn’t want to explain.

That wasn’t what I wanted.