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THE TWIN IN HIS BED
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2026-08-18 08:00:21CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Carlton’s eyes had darkened, his breath rough from wanting and anticipation.
“Yes,” he gritted, his voice low, almost like a warning. “Stop teasing and suck it.”
I held his gaze as I bent slowly toward his cock—I would never forget the flaming lust in his eyes—I stuck out my tongue and licked the tip of him.
Dernier chapitre
THE TWIN IN HIS BED THE TWIN IN HIS BED
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOURI was discharged a little after ten, papers in one hand, a pamphlet on prenatal vitamins in the other that I hadn't asked for.I had worn the clothes Carlton sent via a nurse, only because my nightie made me a little self conscious…considering everything.But the food I couldn't bear to touch. I couldn't put anything from Carlton in my stomach. The one lodging there was more than enough.True to what Adrian had said, my mother had been transferred to a VIP room in recovery, two floors up, sedated and recovering, blessedly unaware of anything that had happened to me overnight.I told the nurse I'd be back that evening. I meant it. I just didn't know yet how much of me would be left to bring.I ignored Liam, whom Carlton had done whatever he was good at, to bring here, and called a cab.&
THE TWIN IN HIS BED THE TWIN IN HIS BED
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE The silence after the door closed was a special kind of cruelty. It stretched between Carlton and me, filling the room with everything neither of us could say at the moment. I had been stupid. Not only had I slept with my twin sister's husband, I had gotten pregnant by him too. Twelve weeks.Why didn't it ever occur to me, once in that entire mansion to take contraceptives? Why hadn't I thought far enough ahead when Carlton was apparently doing it without a condom, night after night, like consequences were something that happened to other people? Why did I have to be so stupid?“This changes everything,” Carlton spoke first. His voice seared through the maze of numerous thoughts. I looked up, unsure I'd heard him right. He was looking at me. “What?” “Naturally, this development changes whatever plans we had before now.”My hand drifted, unbidden, toward my stomach, though there was nothing to feel yet. Nothing that made sense. Nothing that could possibl
THE TWIN IN HIS BED THE TWIN IN HIS BED
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO The first thing I recognized when I came to, was the ceiling. High, recessed lighting instead of the flat fluorescent panels I pushed patients under every day. No exposed pipe chase. No water stain.Wrong room. That was my second, slower thought. A window with drapes, instead of a shared curtain. An actual armchair in the corner instead of a folding one. Whatever this was, it wasn't the recovery ward.The third thing I realized was that I wasn't alone.I turned my head slowly, everything moving through water, and found him sitting in the chair beside my bed. Alone. Grey suit, tie loosened, elbows on his knees like he'd been there a while and had run out of ways to sit comfortably.I decided, immediately, that I was hallucinating. Low blood sugar. Grief. Whatever cocktail of exhaustion and terror produces a man who shouldn't be within four states of you, sitting exactly where he shouldn't be, watching you wake up like it was the only thing on his schedule.I m
THE TWIN IN HIS BED THE TWIN IN HIS BED
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE It was almost two hours before the doors opened again. This time, it was the surgeon, cap still on, mask pulled down around his neck."She did well," he said, and something in my chest finally let go. "The graft looks good. We're moving her to recovery now, and if everything holds overnight, she'll be in a regular room by morning.""Can I see her?""Ten minutes. Not more.” “Thank you.” He hesitated, the particular hesitation of a man about to say something he needed to say carefully. "I want to be honest with you, Ms. Morrison. Her heart's been compensating for a long time — years, probably, based on what we found in there. This surgery buys her real time. It doesn't undo the years already spent."My heartbeat quickened again. “How much time?” “Good time, if she rests, takes her medication, and avoids lifting or straining. She's going to need a lot of care for a while yet.""That's fine," I said. "That's what I do.”They let me in a little after five in the mo
THE TWIN IN HIS BED THE TWIN IN HIS BED
CHAPTER THIRTY I don't know how long I sat there, but, it was long enough for the vending machine, two rows over, cycled through its hourly hum twice before I actually registered the sound.An older man in the chair across from mine, someone else's crisis unfolding at his own pace, offered me half a granola bar without a word, like it was the only currency either of us had left to spend on kindness that night. I didn't eat it. I could barely put anything in my mouth. But I held onto it, and it kept me from noticing that my hands were still trembling.The doors opened after an unbearably long wait. One of the doctors I knew stepped out, her expression was wary, with a rehearsed calm doctors learned for situations like this. The moment her gaze landed on mine, my heart skipped. "Ms. Morrison?"I stood so fast the room tilted. The granola bar hit the floor. "How is—""She's stable." She led with the thing a person needed to hear before their legs give out. "But there's significant bl
THE TWIN IN HIS BED THE TWIN IN HIS BED
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE Apparently, grief didn't make a habit of announcing itself before it moved in. One day you lose something you hold dear, and the next, it's there, rearranging the furniture of an ordinary day until nothing sat where it used to.I had told my mother enough to stop the questions from coming, but not enough to shed the doubt in her eyes. Not enough to be true. Not enough to assuage the pain that twisted in my heart. It isn't a game, I had said. Even though I knew it was, and I was her pawn. Arla had a fallout with her husband, and she needed to get away for sometime. “Are there no hotels in New York?” she'd asked. So I continued to lie, even though I knew she didn't believe a word of it. “She wanted to be here, mama.” She watched me lie to her face with the same sharp, assessing look she'd worn the whole evening, and let me get away with it anyway — because some fictions are kinder to live inside than whatever sits underneath them, and I think she understood t
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