03

𝓣𝓲𝓶

“Oh good, you’re finally awake.”

A stranger’s voice reached me the moment I opened my eyes.

It wasn’t Eric’s voice. I knew that instantly, even though my head was pounding and my thoughts were slow and heavy. Eric’s voice was familiar, safe in a way that had nothing to do with comfort and everything to do with habit. This voice was calm, low, and too steady for someone who was not supposed to be there.

My heart jumped hard in my chest.

I blinked against the light and stared up at the ceiling, trying to place myself before I moved.

This was the apartment Eric had rented for the wedding. It was inside one of the big hotels in Switzerland. Everything looked clean and expensive, like no one had really stayed here before.

The ceiling was smooth and white. The walls were plain. The curtains were thick and heavy, blocking out the light from outside. The furniture was neat and cold, placed carefully, like it was meant to be looked at, not used.

I turned my head slowly.

A man was sitting in the chair near my bed, leaning back like he owned the place. He was watching me closely, his expression unreadable, his posture relaxed in a way that immediately put me on edge.

He looked awake.

Too awake, like he had been waiting for me to wake up.

“Who are you?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

He raised an eyebrow slightly. “You don’t remember?”

I swallowed and pushed myself up on my elbows. The movement sent a wave of pain through my head, and I winced. My body felt sore in a way that made my stomach drop even before my memory fully caught up. The sheets were twisted around my legs, my shirt was gone, and the air felt too warm.

No.

No, no, no.

I dragged the blanket up to my chest, my heart starting to race. “Why are you in my room?”

He raised his head, studying me for a moment, then sighed like he had already guessed how this would go.

“You were pretty drunk last night.”

That was when it hit me.

Not all at once, but enough to make my hands start shaking. The bar, the alcohol and that face. That familiar face I hadn’t questioned because I hadn’t wanted to.

The way I had invited him without thinking, without asking, because I was tired and hurt and stupid.

I closed my eyes briefly.

“This didn’t happen,” I said. “I wouldn’t do this.”

He didn’t argue. “You did.”

I opened my eyes again and looked at him properly this time. In the clearer light of morning, the differences were obvious.

He wasn’t Eric.

He looked like him enough to confuse me in the dark, enough to fool me when I was drunk and not thinking, but now I could see it clearly. His eyes were colder and his expression harder.

There was something sharp about him that Eric never had.

“Who are you?” I asked again, more firmly this time.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“My name is Frank.”

The name sent a strange chill through me.

Frank. I stared at him, my mind searching for context, for any place where that name fit.

Then it clicked, slow and painful.

A memory surfaced from years ago, from one of those nights Eric had been drinking and talking too much, pacing the living room while I listened like I always did.

“I have a brother,” Eric had said bitterly. “We don’t talk, he lives in another country. We’re better off that way.”

I hadn’t asked questions, I never did when it came to things Eric clearly didn’t want to talk about.

“You’re Eric’s brother,” I said quietly.

Frank nodded. “You got it.”

My stomach dropped so hard I thought I might be sick.

“This…,” I gestured weakly between us, “this can’t have happened.”

“But it did,” he replied calmly.

I shook my head, panic creeping in now. “I thought you were him.”

“I figured,” Frank said. “You kept saying his name.”

Shame flooded through me, hot and overwhelming.

I pressed my hand against my face, wishing I could disappear into the mattress. I was a doctor. I was supposed to be careful, rational, in control. Instead, I had crossed a line so badly I didn’t even know how to begin fixing it.

“This was a mistake,” I said. “A huge one.”

Frank watched me for a moment, then stood up. As he moved, my eyes caught on his body before I could stop them, and that was when I noticed the scars properly.

They weren’t faint or hidden.

I looked away quickly, my professional instincts screaming warnings I didn’t want to think about.

Whatever world this man lived in, it wasn’t a safe one.

“I want us to pretend this never happened,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You leave, I forget you were here, and we move on.”

Frank didn’t laugh, but something like amusement flickered briefly across his face. “That easy?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. “It has to be.”

He studied me for a long moment, then shrugged. “Fine.”

Relief rushed through me so fast my knees felt weak. “Good.”

Before either of us could say anything else, a knock sounded at the door.

My heart nearly stopped.

“Tim?” Eric’s voice came through the door, loud and familiar. “You awake?”

Panic hit me all at once. My eyes flew to Frank, then to the door, then back to Frank. My mind raced, thoughts tripping over each other. There was no time to think, no time to explain.

“Closet,” I whispered urgently.

Frank blinked. “What?”

“Now,” I hissed, already grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the closet. The knocking came again, louder this time.

“Tim, don’t pretend you can’t hear me.”

I shoved Frank inside the closet just as Eric’s hand hit the door handle. Frank leaned down slightly as he stepped in, his mouth close to my ear.

“Feels like we’re having an affair,” he murmured.

“Shut up,” I whispered fiercely and slammed the closet door.

I barely had time to drag a shirt over my head before Eric walked in like he owned the place, Which, technically, he did.

He had rented the hotel just for his wedding and honeymoon.

Eric looked me over and let out a short laugh.

“Damn, you look like you had a rough night. What, did you finally get lucky with some girl and regret it?”

“No,” That came out too rushed and defensive without me realizing it.

He frowned. “You disappeared last night. Laura was worried.”

Guilt twisted in my chest. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

Eric glanced around the room, his gaze lingering just a second too long on the closet. I forced myself to stay still, to breathe normally, to look tired instead of terrified.

“I came to get you for breakfast,” he said. “We’re heading down now.”

“I just need a minute,” I said quickly. “My head’s killing me.”

Eric studied me, clearly sensing something was off, but after a moment he nodded. “Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, I rushed to the closet and yanked it open. It was empty.

My breath caught. “Frank?”

Nothing.

The window was slightly open, allowing cool air to drift in. He was gone.

“Holy Cow! How did he jump out of the window? This was the 3rd floor, who does he think he is? Spider-Man?”

I stood at the window for a long moment, trying to process it but decided to shrug it off. My heart was still pounding, trying to process how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.

Part of me felt relieved that he had disappeared like that without argument. Another part felt uneasy, like something unfinished had just slipped out of my hands.

I dressed quickly and went downstairs for breakfast like I had promised.

Eric and Laura were already there, sitting close. Laura leaned in just a little too much, her laugh loud and sharp, like she wanted everyone to see her.

She brushed her hand against Eric’s on purpose, making it obvious, showing off. I watched from a distance, my chest tightening, feeling that familiar sting of being left out

They looked happy. Newly married and already brimming with what one would call eternal happiness.

I sat down across from them, forcing a smile as Laura greeted me warmly. Eric reached for her hand without thinking, and the small, familiar gesture made something bitter rise in my chest.

I stared at my coffee, pretending not to notice. Until the chair scraped besides me, and someone sat down there.