Skin and Secrets

THE SHADOW

Derek Cross woke to sunlight he didn't want.

He lay still, staring at the ceiling of his apartment, and replayed the night before. Vanessa's body against his. Her whisper: "I love you." His reply: "I love you too."

He meant it. That was the problem.

The apartment was too quiet. He lived alone in a sleek high-rise, all glass and steel and nothing personal. No photos on the walls. No clutter on the counters. He'd designed it that way — clean lines, no mess, no memories. It was the opposite of his brother's house, which was full of Vanessa's touches: throw pillows, scented candles, family photos Derek tried not to look at.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood was cold. He didn't care.

The first time he met Vanessa, she was already Adrian's wife.

It was a family dinner, three years ago. Adrian had brought her to their mother's house. Derek had heard about her — beautiful, smart, a catch. He'd prepared himself to be underwhelmed.

Then she walked in.

She wore a red dress. Her hair was down. She smiled at Adrian like he was the only person in the room — and then she turned that smile on Derek.

"You must be the younger brother," she said.

"I must be."

She laughed. "Adrian said you were the funny one."

"Adrian said that?"

"He did. He also said you were the talented one. The architect."

Derek had felt something shift in his chest. Adrian never said things like that. Adrian barely talked about him at all.

"He's generous," Derek said.

"He's honest." She held his gaze a moment too long. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Derek."

He'd told himself it was nothing. Just a woman being warm.

He was wrong.

---

Derek showered, dressed, and made coffee he didn't drink. He stood at his kitchen window and watched the city wake up. Somewhere across town, Adrian was probably already at the office. Somewhere closer, Vanessa was in her house, pretending to be a wife.

His phone buzzed.

Vanessa: Can you talk?

He typed back: Not now.

Vanessa: I need to see you.

Derek: Next week. Same place.

Vanessa: I don't want to wait.

He set the phone down. Picked it up again. Typed: Fine. Tomorrow. The usual.

Then he threw the phone on the couch and walked away.

---

The first time he kissed her, it was an accident.

Or that's what he told himself. A family barbecue, two years ago. Adrian was grilling. Vanessa was helping Derek set the table. Their hands touched. She looked up at him. He didn't move.

"Derek," she whispered.

"I know."

He kissed her. Just once. Then he stepped back.

She didn't say anything. Neither did he.

But three days later, she called him. "I can't stop thinking about it."

"Neither can I."

That was the beginning.

---

He went to his office — a small architecture firm he'd started five years ago. It was successful enough. Not as successful as Adrian's company. Nothing Derek did would ever be as successful as Adrian's company.

His assistant handed him messages. He nodded. Sat down. Stared at blueprints he couldn't focus on.

His phone buzzed again.

Vanessa: I love you.

He stared at the words. Three little words that should have been impossible.

He typed back: I love you too.

Then he deleted the message thread and tried to work.

---

That night, Derek drove past Adrian's house.

He didn't plan to. His hands just took him there. He parked across the street, lights off, and watched.

The house was dark except for a single light in the living room. Adrian's car was in the driveway. Vanessa's car was beside it.

They were both home. Together. In the same house.

Derek's chest tightened.

He thought about walking to the door. Knocking. Telling Adrian everything.

I'm sleeping with your wife.

I've been sleeping with her for two years.

I'm sorry.

But he didn't move. He sat in the dark car, watching the light, until it went out.

Then he drove home.

He didn't sleep.

---