Pregnant for my husband's brother

Chapter 4

The Secrets

Damian Cross had always been a man of control, a man who kept the world at arm's length in his marriage to Amelia. But things were different after her accident. Through the weeks he'd spent beside her, leading her through the life she'd forgotten, something long buried inside him, something he'd never experienced before.

He was beguiled by her gentleness, the quiet resilience, the look of wonder on her face as she regarded the world, even when the memories danced just out of reach. He noted the subtle shifts in her expressions: the faint flush on her cheeks when he praised her and, for the first time, felt a stir of desire beyond a simple attraction. He began to question whether it would be possible to have her in love with him, or rewrite their story and build up something real between them.

But Damian restrained his feelings and continued to wait until the time was right. He knew he couldn't speed things up; she was still fragile, and she trusted him. He wouldn't toy with that trust until he was certain of his feelings and the right time to tell her.

One afternoon, as Amelia sat in the living room bathed in the afternoon sun, flitting through a book, she looked up at him with a small, almost shy smile.

"Damian, do you mind helping me with something?"

He approached her, his heart blooming at the look in her eyes. "Of course, anything you need."

She held out her phone, an old device she hadn't touched much since her accident. "Could you call my stylist? I don't remember her number, and I should make an appointment."

Damian took the phone from her, noticing her soft smile of appreciation. He unlocked it, intending to search her contacts for the stylist, but as he scrolled something caught his eye-a series of old text messages from a contact saved under the name “L”.

Damian froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. His chest tightened as he skimmed over the messages.

"Can't wait until we're finally free of this place."

"Just hold on, Amelia. Soon, it'll just be us."

"I love you, Amelia. More than anything."

He made himself focus on every word, burning it into his brain. These were messages that didn't come from an acquaintance, a friend, or even some relative far away. They were messages from someone who spoke to her with the intimacy that he had never shared with her. Someone who loved her. He reread the messages once more, piecing together fragments of suspicion that his brain had been desperately trying to shove and deny.

“L.” Could it be…?

A sick feeling began to settle in his stomach. Damian said nothing at all, hand still clutched on the phone as he fought for control. He glanced over at Amelia, who was watching him with a curious expression, entirely unaware of the tempests brewing in his mind.

"Amelia," he said low, controlled, while he felt anything but. "Who… who is this?"

She stared at him, her face completely blank, looking confused as if she were unable to fathom what was being asked of her. "What do you mean?"

"This person," he repeated, holding up the phone, his eyes pinned onto hers. "The one who sends you these messages. Who is he?”

Amelia's gaze dropped to the phone, her brow furrowing in contemplation of the contact. No flash of recognition, no flicker of guilt-just puzzlement. She stared at the screen unreadable before looking back up to him.

"I… I don't know," she said softly, her tone unsure. "I don't remember."

Damian's jaw clenched, and his mind worked in a scramble to try and make sense of her reaction. A part of him wanted to believe her-she looked so genuinely confused, lost even. But the messages were impossible to deny intimacy, the language, it was the kind of affection he'd never shared with her, something he hadn't known she was capable of feeling.

"You don't remember?" he repeated, his voice tight, suspicious.

She shook her head, going deep into thought as the memory remained blurry in an attempt to recreate it. "Damian… I don't know who this person is. I wish I could tell you, but. Everything is still blank."

He glared at her, torn between anger and pity, his emotions in a tangle he'd never expected. She seemed so fragile, so sincere, and yet there were the facts, staring him in the face. He didn't know which hurt the most - that she'd kept this from him, or that she'd loved someone else so much more than she'd ever love him.

After a long, strained silence, he finally forced a tight smile, slipping the phone back into her hand. "It's all right, Amelia. I just… wanted to make sure you were all right."

She nodded, the relief washing over her face as she took the phone back. "Thank you, Damian. I appreciate everything you've done for me. I do."

He nodded, his face softening as he watched her. But inside, a cauldron of questions and suspicions was welling up

with each passing second. “If this “L,” who is he?”