The other Mrs.Adie(Mistress to my sister’s husband)

Zara’s POV If Adie regretted what had just happened, his face didn’t show it. He looked desperate, confused, happy, and angry all at the same time. How do I know? Because I know Adie. I’ve watched him from a distance, loved him from a distance, learned every expression he makes. Some people might find that weird, but I don’t care. I’m just a girl. A girl in love. And Adie is the man I’ve loved silently for far too long. “I have to go now,” Adie’s throaty voice said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What? Go where?” I asked, frustration slipping into my tone. If I’m being honest, I never want him to leave my side. I want time to freeze right here, right now with him beside me and the cool morning breeze kissing our skin. “My wife will be worried I didn’t come home last night. I didn't call or text her." Oh. Snap. Did i forget to mention Adie is married. he is married to Imani. His perfect little wife. How could he still think of her after what just happened? After the way he kissed me rough yet tender. After making love to me like I was something precious, like I mattered. “Your wife? Oh,” I muttered, suddenly feeling small. He stood up, grabbing his pants and his now-rumpled shirt. “Uh… I have to go. I’ll text you,” he said quickly, already halfway out the door, his shirt still unbuttoned. I heard him answer his phone as he walked down the stairs. “Mmm… hey, baby. I’ll be home in a minute. Yeah yeah I know I'm sorry." And just like that, my heart began pounding louder than before. Louder than when he kissed the inside of my legs. Louder than when his hands cupped my breasts. Louder than anything that had happened between us. Did last night mean nothing to him? Confused and frustrated, I dragged myself to the bathroom. The moment I turned on the shower, images of the night before crashed through my mind like waves. His hands. His mouth. Those touch. Those kisses. His lies. What did he mean, he’ll text me? I stepped out of the shower just in time to hear my phone ring. “Hi, sis,” I said, forcing a smile into my voice. “I’m stopping by my husband’s office later. Want me to get you anything?” Sister of the year. How does she manage to make me feel so guilty when she’s the one breaking every unspoken rule? When she’s the bad guy here? “No, I’m good. Why are you stopping by?” I asked, trying to sound casual. “Because it’s my husband’s office duh.” Right. Wife of the year too. He doesn’t even love you, I wanted to scream. But instead, I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, “I could really use a boba.” Because hurting my sister with the truth would be a d**k move. Even for me. And who knows… Maybe he does love her. Maybe he loves me. Or maybe I’m just delusional. I placed my phone on the dresser and began getting ready for work. Working at Advel Corp had always been my dream. But not just because it was one of the most prestigious firms in the country. No. It became my dream the moment Adie started working there. I wanted to be close to him. Work with him. See him every day. All the time. Forever. “Good morning, ma’am,” the janitor greeted politely as I walked down the hallway toward the elevator. “Good morning,” I mumbled, not in the mood for small talk. My mind was already a mess. Would Adie come in today? Of course he would. He never missed work. Ever. But… what if he was trying to avoid me? No. Why would he? It’s not like we were that drunk last night. I’d left my purse in his car after he dropped me off at my apartment. We’d been working late, racing to meet a deadline. As an intern, I wasn’t even expected to stay behind with the rest of the staff. But I did. I always did. I just wanted to be around Adie a little longer. About thirty minutes after I got home, there was a knock on my door. I’d already changed into tiny blue shorts and a sheer top. I hurried over, assuming it was the delivery guy. I’d ordered Domino’s the moment I stepped inside. Grabbing my bag, I reached for my purse, already planning to tip him. “Oh sorry, I can’t find my purse,” I said, swinging the door open. “This purse?” Adie stood there, holding it up at eye level. My breath caught. His sleeves were rolled up, tie loosened, a few buttons undone. Temptation, wrapped neatly in exhaustion. “Hey! Yes,” I laughed nervously. “I thought you were the delivery guy.” “I was almost home when I noticed it,” he said, offering a lazy half smile. “Thank you,” I grinned, doing my best to hide how fast my heart was racing. Then I noticed the way he was looking at me. His gaze lingered too long on the outline of what my top barely concealed. “I ordered pizza,” I said, my voice softer than I meant it to be. “Want to come in for a drink while we wait?” This is wrong. So wrong. The voice in my head screamed. Please say yes. No.say no. “Yeah… sure,” he said. Surprisingly. “Hi, Zara. You look fantastic this morning,” Jamie said as he stepped in beside me. He worked in Marketing. I knew exactly what his daily compliments meant Jamie was nothing if not predictable. “Thank you,” I replied, not bothering to smile. The elevator doors slid open on the eighth floor, and I stepped out without so much as a glance in his direction. “You’re late,” Kate said, frowning the moment she spotted me. Kate, Adie’s executive assistant, and technically my boss was barely ever around. She traveled constantly, attending high-level meetings across states and countries on Adie’s behalf. And when she was gone? I assisted her in assisting him. Basically, I was the assistant’s assistant. “Sorry. Traffic,” I lied. I was hungover from s*x with my boss and alcohol. She pointed to the desk without looking up. “Take these files to the boss for confirmation,” she said, tapping one folder. “Get his signature on this one. And please help me take his coffee to him.” I gathered the files quickly and picked up the coffee from the side table, careful not to spill a drop. My hands trembled not from the heat of the cup, but from the name on the door I was walking toward. Adie Gulden. Chief executive Officer. And the man who f****d brains out of me last night. ————— Adie followed me to the small kitchen table. “Coffee or wine?” I asked, blinking shyly. “Chardonnay,” he replied. “I have a bottle of Rosewood,” I said. “That’ll do,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair. I moved to the fridge and pour two glasses of wine. Smiling, I turn on the music, an old vinyl my father used to love. He and my mother danced to this song a lot at night, back before life was derailed in a metaphorical train crash. We talked about work about how my internship was going so far. Eventually, the conversation drifted into life, opportunities, and dreams. “So… who’s the guy?” Adie asked, three glasses of wine in. “Which guy?” I replied, playing clueless. “Come on, Zara. There’s got to be a guy or girl in college, the office… someone in your life.” How do I tell him the truth? That I haven’t been able to look at any guy seriously. That the first and only guy I slept with was a course mate I had no feelings for. That I just wanted to feel in control—just once. “Zara,” Adie said softly, his voice deep and gentle. “There’s no guy, Adie. I’m focusing on school and my internship,” I lied. What I really wanted to scream was: It’s you. It’s always been you. It’s always going to be you. I can’t concentrate because I’m always thinking about you about how perfectly your shirt hugs your muscles, how your eye quints when you smile, how messy your hair looks when you are exhausted, how you torture me with those perfect jawline. How I dream of your touch. How I’m just waiting for the day you stop seeing me as your wife’s baby sister. “You’re a very beautiful, intelligent, attractive young woman,” he said. “Of course you must have plenty of boys around you.” He called me attractive. Does he think I’m sexy? Does he think about me that way? “I don’t have time for boys,” I said, leaning forward toward the kitchen table in what I hoped was a subtle, seductive way. I caught his eyes lingering on my body, and this time, he didn’t look away. So I held his gaze. The tension between us was electric. I could feel the heat building inside me. Adie leaned in closer, just a few inches away. I tried to steady my heartbeat, but his closeness alone sent a delicious shiver down my spine. “You look really beautiful in that top,” he said. Or maybe it was the wine talking. Still, it felt like a thousand butterflies exploded in my stomach all at once. “You’re drunk, Mr. Gulden,” I said, suddenly trying to sound professional. As if I didn’t already know how unprofessional it was to invite my sister’s husband who also happened to be my boss over for a drink this late, dressed like this. “I’m not drunk,” he said. “I’ve only had three glasses.” Just then, the doorbell rang. He pulled back. “Pizza’s here,” I said, as if he didn’t already know. But even as I walked toward the door, I could still feel his eyes burning through the thin fabric of my top. I turned back with a sly smile. “You staying to eat… or?” I asked, my tone suggestive. He gave me an intense look, fire flickering in his pupils. “I came in to eat, didn’t I?” Well… that could mean two things. Stop it, Zara, I warned myself. No dirty thoughts.