My Husband Cheated With My Sister, So I Married His Double

"Amy?"

His footsteps hit the top of the stairs.

I snatched the ring off the table and shoved it back on my finger. I kicked the bags behind the studio door just as he came around the corner, hair messy, wearing the T-shirt I bought him in Maine.

"Couldn't sleep," I said.

"You okay? You look pale." He touched my cheek. His hand smelled like her perfume.

"Just tired."

"Go back to bed, sweetheart. I've got an early meeting." He kissed my temple and was gone in twenty minutes. The front door clicked. A second later, so did the guest room door.

I didn't let myself think about that.

I sat on the kitchen floor and opened the lab report again.

*Positive.*

My fingers trembled so hard the screen kept zooming in and out. Seven years. Seven years of doctors saying *maybe impossible.* Seven years of looking away from strollers in the park.

And now there was someone inside me. Someone the size of a lentil.

I pressed my palm flat against my stomach and remembered that plastic hospital chair. Mark's eyes, red from no sleep. *I'll be your hands.*

Had any of that been real?

Maybe once. Maybe before Selina.

*One chance,* I told myself. *Tell him to his face. Watch what he does.*

---

His office was on the fourteenth floor of a glass building downtown. His assistant, Priya, looked up from her desk and her smile froze halfway.

"Mrs. Delaney. Hi. I didn't know you were coming in."

"Is Mark in his meeting?"

"His meeting?" She glanced at her screen. Then at me. "He doesn't have one today. He came in at eight, grabbed his laptop, and left."

"Left where?"

Priya's cheeks went pink. "Your sister was waiting in the lobby. They left together."

The air in the room felt thinner.

"Did he say where they were going?"

"No, ma'am." She lowered her voice. "Do you want me to tell him you stopped by?"

"No," I said. "I'll tell him myself."

---

I called him from the sidewalk outside. The wind kept whipping my hair into my mouth.

He picked up on the fifth ring. "What?"

Not *sweetheart.* Not *hey.* Just *what.*

"Where are you?"

"Busy. Selina's running a fever. I'm taking her to the hospital."

"A fever? She was fine last night."

His voice sharpened. "Are you seriously doing this right now? She's burning up, Amy."

"Mark, I need to tell you something. It's important."

"Whatever it is, it can wait until tonight."

"It can't wait. I'm—"

In the background, Selina moaned. Soft and pitiful. "Mark? It hurts..."

"I have to go," he said.

"Mark, please, just listen—"

The line went dead.

I stood there holding the phone like an idiot. Then a cramp tore through my stomach, low and vicious, like a fist twisting my insides.

I doubled over. My shoulder hit a parking meter.

"Ma'am?" A man in a delivery vest grabbed my arm. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm—"

Another cramp. Worse. My knees folded and I sat down hard on the curb.

Something warm spread under me. I looked down.

My pale blue skirt was turning dark red.

"Oh God." The man was yelling now. "Somebody call 911! She's bleeding!"

I tried to say *my baby.* Only air came out.

The sky tipped sideways. Car horns stretched into one long, flat sound.

The last thing I did before everything went black was hit redial.

It rang and rang.

He never picked up.

---

The first thing I noticed was the smell. Bleach and something sour.

The second was the doctor standing at the foot of my bed with her hands folded.

"Mrs. Delaney. I'm Dr. Okafor. Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital." My throat felt like sandpaper. "The baby. Is the baby—"

She didn't look away. I'll give her that.

"I'm so sorry. We did everything we could. The pregnancy didn't survive."

I stared at her.

"You lost a lot of blood," she went on, gently. "You're lucky you got here when you did."

"Lucky," I repeated.

"Is there someone we can call? Your husband?"

I laughed.

It just came out. One short, ugly sound. Dr. Okafor blinked.

"No," I said. "Don't call him."

She left. I grabbed the edge of the blanket and twisted it until my knuckles went white. The tears came all at once, hot and silent, soaking the pillow under my cheek.

Six weeks. I'd known about my baby for six hours.

"Here."

I flinched. A glass of water appeared beside my face.

A young man sat in the chair by the window. Early twenties. Dark hair. A jaw that looked eerily familiar. For a second my heart lurched, because he could have been Mark ten years younger.

Then I placed him.

"Vincent?" Selina's boyfriend. The college kid she brought to Thanksgiving and ignored all night. "What are you doing here?"

"Drink first." He set the glass in my hand and folded my fingers around it. "Your lips are cracked."

I didn't drink. "Where's Mark?"

His face went cold. "Next door."

"What?"

"Room 412. Right through that wall." He nodded at it. "He's sitting with Selina. Holding her hand. Her fever is ninety-nine point four."

My grip tightened on the glass.

"He doesn't even know you're here," Vincent said quietly. "He has no idea you almost bled to death on the sidewalk trying to find him."

The water shook so hard it splashed onto the blanket.

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I drove her here this morning. She called me first." His mouth twisted. "Then she called him. Then she told me to leave."

"And you just... stayed?"

"I saw them bring you in. I heard the nurse say your name." He shrugged, but his shoulders were stiff. "Somebody had to."

"Why do you care? You barely know me."

He was quiet for a long moment. He picked at a thread on his jeans.

"Do I look like anyone to you?"

I swallowed. "Yes."

"Yeah." His laugh was bitter. "Everyone says that. Selina said it on our first date. She thought it was cute."

"Vincent—"

"She made me part my hair on the left. Like him. She bought me the same cologne. She told me to stop saying *cool* because it sounded childish." He finally looked up. His eyes were wet and furious. "Three months ago, she kissed me and called me Mark."

The room went very still.

"You knew," I whispered. "You knew about them."

"For a long time." He rubbed his face. "And I stayed anyway. Because I loved her. How pathetic is that?"

I didn't answer. I was thinking of my ring, still on my finger. Of the brushes I'd packed and never left with.

"Not pathetic," I said finally. "Just stupid. Like me."

He almost smiled.

He stood up and pulled on his jacket. At the door, he stopped and turned back.

"I know you don't trust anybody right now. You'd be crazy if you did."

"I don't."

"Good." His voice dropped. "But if you want them to pay for this, I'll help you."

The door swung shut behind him.

I turned toward the window. Gray clouds. A pigeon on the ledge. Through the wall, faint and unmistakable, I heard my sister laugh.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand. My eyes were dry now. Completely dry.

My phone lit up on the tray beside me.

**Mark: Selina's okay. Home late. Don't wait up. Love you.**

I read it twice.

Then I opened my contacts, scrolled to the number Vincent had saved there at Thanksgiving, and started to type.