IN BED WITH MY EX-HUSBAND’S UNCLE

Chapter 4

Evie swallowed hard and forced her throat to relax. She looked Julian dead in the eye and lied.

“I called the mechanic to come tow it yesterday,” she said, her tone perfectly even. “The engine was making a strange knocking sound on my way home from the grocery store. I didn’t want to risk driving it.”

For ten long seconds, Julian didn’t move. His eyes narrowed, searching her face for a crack in the story. Her pulse pounded against her ribs. He knows. He’s going to catch me.

Then, just like that, his usual charming smile slid back into place.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed, hurrying back to the bed and pressing his palm to her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been around to handle that for you instead of leaving you to deal with mechanics on your birthday. I feel terrible and..”

“It’s fine, Julian,” Evie cut in quietly, shifting away from his hand. “Really.”

“Sit tight. I’m getting you those pills and something to eat.”

He went downstairs and came back ten minutes later with a tray: chicken soup, buttered toast, a glass of water, and two white migraine pills. He set it across her lap and stood at the edge of the bed, watching her swallow the pills and pick up her spoon. He watched her like a man guarding something. Only after she’d eaten a few bites did he turn away and start unbuttoning his shirt, stripping down to go shower.

Evie immediately looked down at her soup. Her stomach churned. For six years of dating and 4 years of marriage, she had always thought her husband had the body of a Greek god. Now, knowing those hands had held another woman on a hotel sofa, the sight of his bare back made her skin crawl. He looked shabby and small to her. Pathetic, even.

She finished the soup in silence, carried the tray down to the kitchen, and took her time washing the bowl. When she came back upstairs, Julian was out of the shower and pulling on a cashmere sweater and sweatpants.

Evie blinked. “Aren’t you going to the office?”

“No way,” Julian said softly, stepping over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “My precious wife is sick. I’m staying right here to take care of you today.”

She looked at him and felt something hollow open in her chest. The show of concern felt so convincing, so real. That was the worst part. If she hadn’t stood outside Room 1402 with her own eyes, she would have believed every word.

Julian walked over to the walk-in closet and came out with two designer suits on velvet hangers, one navy, one charcoal.

“Help me choose, baby,” he said, holding them against his chest.

Evie barely glanced at them. “They both look fine, Julian.”

His smile fell. He laid the hangers across the bed, sat beside her, and took both her cold hands in his.

“No, baby, I need you to actually look,” he said, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that didn’t suit a question about suits. “I have to be at my absolute best tomorrow. Have you forgotten how important tomorrow is to us?”

Evie pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“I told you,” Julian continued, his voice rising a little. “My family’s anniversary gala is tomorrow night, and our main benefactor and investor will finally be there. He’s been overseas for five years, and nobody in the family has seen him since. He controls seventy percent of our family trust and holds the master key to the board.”

Inside, Evie rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. She was sick of hearing about this mysterious, untouchable man who held the Luther family purse strings. For six months, Julian had talked about almost nothing else.”

“You know I need him to approve the funding for my new commercial development project,” Julian continued, squeezing her hands. “He’s the only man in this entire city with the capital to pull it off. Three rival firms are pitching for the exact same trust funds tomorrow night, but I need my company to win it. I have to impress him, you know how much I adore him. I also need my trophy wife looking her absolute best.”

Trophy wife.

The words landed like a slap. The text from last night rushed back at her: Your trophy husband can’t get enough of me. Whoever that woman was, she had chosen her words with care.

Evie forced a faint smile and nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“Good,” Julian beamed, getting to his feet. “Now, which suit?”

She pointed nonchalantly at the charcoal one. “That one.”

“Perfect.” He bent and pressed a wet kiss against her cheek. The second he turned his back, Evie dragged the blanket up and scrubbed the kiss off her cheek. “I already ordered your dress for tomorrow, by the way. It’ll be delivered here by evening.”

Before she could answer, his phone vibrated loudly on the nightstand.

Julian’s head snapped toward it. He grabbed it and glanced at the caller ID. Evie watched his expression switch to electric excitement. “Hold on, baby. I need to take this. It’s work.”

He stepped into the master bathroom and pulled the door shut. Almost shut.

Evie sat very still on the bed, her ears straining.

Through the gap, Julian’s hushed, eager voice drifted out: “I’m coming over right now, babe.”

Evie’s jaw tightened, but she didn't move a muscle. She stared straight at the wall. She kept her posture relaxed and acted like she hadn’t just heard her husband speaking to his mistress on the phone.

A minute later the door swung open. Julian rushed out, and he was no longer in his sweatpants. He was yanking his work trousers back on and pulling a clean dress shirt off a hanger.

Evie tilted her head. “I thought you were staying home to take care of me today?”

Julian paused and raked a hand through his hair, his face arranged into something he clearly thought looked like regret. “I know, queen, I’m so sorry. An absolute fire just broke out at my construction site downtown. The foreman says it’s an emergency and I have to get there right now.”

He buttoned his shirt with quick fingers. His eyes were buzzing with excitement he couldn’t hide.

“I’ll have my phone on speed dial,” he said, snatching his watch from the dresser. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

He hurried back to the bed and pressed a rough, hurried kiss to her forehead. As he straightened, he grabbed his suit jacket off the chair and swung it over his shoulder.

Something fell out.

A small, square foil packet slipped out of his jacket pocket, hit the floor, and bounced to a stop beside Evie’s feet.

The room went silent.

A black-and-silver condom wrapper.

Evie didn’t move. She stared at it, then slowly lifted her eyes to her husband.

Julian stood frozen above her, every drop of color gone from his face, his eyes wide with something very close to terror.

They didn't use condoms. They had never used condoms in their four years of marriage.