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2026-10-28 23:01:06
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My Husband’s Brother, My Filthy Trainer 153
MIA The message was only one line. Meet me. Alone. Last time. No location at first. Then a pin dropped—a quiet café two buses from the motel, far enough from Clara’s clinic that none of her staff would walk in by accident. I sat on the edge of the motel bed with the phone in my hand and almost didn’t go. Jake was in the bathroom with the lawyer’s number on speaker, voice low, answering questions about the gym accounts and the family share. When he came out I showed him the screen. “You don’t have to,” he said. “If I don’t, she’ll invent the version where I ran.” He didn’t like it. He also didn’t stop me. I took one bus, then another, and walked the last block with my bag held tight against my side like someone might try to take it. Clara was already there. She looked wrecked and sharp at the same time. Dark under the eyes. Perfect coat. Hair done like she still had somewhere important to be. Her hands were wrapped around a cup she hadn’t touched. When she saw me she didn’t
My Husband’s Brother, My Filthy Trainer 152
JAKE Morning light cut through the thin curtain. Mia was already awake. She had stopped shaking sometime before dawn, but she hadn’t moved far from my side. Neither of us had really slept. The motel room still smelled like old carpet and the takeout we hadn’t finished. Then the knock. Hard enough to rattle the chain. Mia’s eyes found mine. “Who knows we’re here?” “Nobody should.” I got up, cracked the door with the chain still on, and saw Sophie in a gym jacket, hair up, expression flat. “Open,” she said. “I’m not here to cause a scene.” I glanced back. Mia was sitting up now, blanket around her waist, face tight. I slid the chain off and stepped out onto the walkway, pulling the door mostly closed behind me so she wouldn’t have to take the whole thing in the face at once. The parking lot was gray. A vending machine hummed at the end of the row. “You’re hard to find,” Sophie said. “That was the idea.” She nodded at the door. “She’s awake?” “Yes.” “Then keep it short for
My Husband’s Brother, My Filthy Trainer 151
MIA The room smelled like old carpet and bleach. Jake paid in cash at the counter while I stood behind him with my one bag and tried not to look at the clerk. The key was plastic. The door stuck. Inside there was a bed, a chair with a burn mark on the arm, a window that faced a brick wall, and a bathroom with a shower that ran either scalding or cold. “It’s one night,” he said. “Maybe two. Until I can move what’s left.” I nodded. I didn’t trust my voice yet. We didn’t unpack. There was nothing to unpack that mattered. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at a stain on the ceiling shaped like a hand. Jake checked the lock, the window, the bathroom, then came back and stood in front of me like he was waiting for me to break in a way he could fix. “You should sleep,” he said. “I can’t.” “Try.” “I keep hearing her.” He didn’t ask who. He already knew. His mother’s voice outside the hospital room. Clara’s voice in the clinic hallway. The same word, dressed in different mouths
My Husband’s Brother, My Filthy Trainer 150
MIA Clara was already at the clinic when I got there. Not behind the desk. In the hallway that led to the small room I had been calling mine. Arms crossed. Eyes red in a way that wasn’t soft anymore. “Pack,” she said. I stopped with the keys still in my hand. “Clara—” “Don’t.” Her voice shook once, then went flat. “Don’t say my name like we’re still on the same side. Pack your things and get out.” The waiting room was empty. The morning patients hadn’t started yet. It felt like the whole building was holding its breath for this. “I can explain.” “You slept with him.” She laughed, short and ugly. “You slept with the man I was supposed to marry, in my clinic, in my house’s shadow, while I gave you a job and a bed. What is there to explain?” “It didn’t start here.” “I don’t care where it started.” She stepped closer. “I cared about you. I thought you were someone who’d been hurt. I thought I was helping. Turns out I was housing the reason my engagement was a joke.” My throat b
My Husband’s Brother, My Filthy Trainer 149
MIA The waiting room smelled like antiseptic and burnt coffee. I sat on a plastic chair with my hands locked together so no one would see them shake. Jake stood near the vending machine, still in the shirt he had worn to dinner, a dark smudge on the cuff where someone had grabbed him in the chaos. Ryan had gone with the paramedics like a dutiful son. Clara had disappeared into a phone call. The fluorescent lights hummed. A television in the corner played a muted weather report. A nurse came out first. “She’s stable,” she said. “Blood pressure was high. Stress event. The doctor will speak to immediate family only for now.” Ryan appeared in the doorway of the exam area as if the words immediate family had summoned him. He looked at Jake, then at me, and smiled with no warmth. “You two should go,” he said. “You’ve done enough for one night.” Jake didn’t move. “I’m her son.” “Not according to her.” Ryan’s voice stayed pleasant for the hallway. “She’s awake. She’s asking for me. N
My Husband’s Brother, My Filthy Trainer 148
JAKE Clara’s question hung there, sharp and clear, slicing through the polite chatter like a knife through butter. “Have you been sleeping with your brother’s wife?” The whole room went dead quiet. I could hear the ice cubes melting in the water glasses, soft little clicks against the glass. My mother’s hand froze around her fork like the metal had suddenly turned too hot to hold. Ryan leaned back in his chair, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face — like he’d paid for a front-row seat and the show was finally starting. Mia sat beside me, her shoulder pressing close enough that I could feel the tension radiating off her, but far enough that I couldn’t reach out and curl my fingers around hers. She looked straight ahead, chin held high, and I knew what she was waiting for. The truth. No more half-truths. No more careful words. Everything out in the open, even if it burned us all down. I could have lied. I’d done it before — small ones, easy ones, words smoothed down ju
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