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Mitchelle
"Good morning, Jason." The sound of my voice barely carried over the sound of the rustling silk as my husband adjusted his tie in front of the full-length mirror, he didn't turn around or acknowledge me even though he must have seen my reflection sitting up in the bed behind him. I pulled the duvet tighter against my chest and watched him perfect the knot with a level of accuracy that made me want to scream. Today was June sixteenth and it marked exactly three years since he had stood at the altar and watched my sister fail to show up. "I just greeted you, Jason," I pressed harder, but he simply reached for his cufflinks and snapped them into place with a cold efficiency that told me I was invisible to him. It was always like this in the mornings as he couldn't stand the sight of the consolation prize he had been forced to marry to save two families from a public relations nightmare. Three years ago my parents and Jason had locked themselves in a private room while the guests waited in the chapel, and they had decided that I was the only viable option to replace Chloe when she ran off with a bartender she had met in Ibiza on her wedding day. "Make sure you are at the clinic by ten," Jason commanded without looking at me as he grabbed his suit jacket from the valet stand and shrugged it on. "I know the time, Jason, but I thought maybe today of all days we could actually speak like human beings considering it has been three years since we got married," I challenged him as I slid my legs out of bed and stood up to face his back. He turned then and looked at me with indifference that hurt more than hatred ever could. "The only thing that matters today is that you get to that appointment and give me an heir. Three years is far too long to be waiting for a return on my investment," he stated coldly. "Is that all I am to you, Jason, just an investment that hasn't paid out yet?" I demanded, but he was already walking out the door. "Just be at the hospital, Mitchelle." The door clicked shut behind him and I was left standing in the center of the room with the ghost of the life I was supposed to have had before my parents guilted me into sacrificing my freedom for their reputation. I had been days away from launching my own consulting firm when they begged me to take Chloe’s place, and now here I was living in a fake marriage while my sister was back in town playing the repentant daughter. The doorbell rang downstairs and I frowned. Jason never forgot his keys and the staff knew better than to disturb me this early. I grabbed my silk robe and tied it tightly around my waist as I descended the stairs to the foyer, and when I pulled the door open I found Chloe standing there with a smile that was too bright for the morning. "Chelley, I tried calling but it went straight to voicemail so I thought I would just pop over," Chloe chirped as she pushed past me into the house without waiting for an invitation. "I was sleeping, Chloe, and then I was getting lectured by your brother-in-law about my failing uterus," I muttered as I closed the door and followed her toward the kitchen. "Oh don't be so dramatic, Chelley, you know Jason is just stressed about the merger and he expresses it through control," she dismissed my pain with a wave of her hand and hopped up onto one of the barstools at the island. "It is easy for you to say when you aren't the one getting injected with hormones every month because he thinks I am defective," I shot back as I moved to the coffee machine to start a brew. "Look, I know I messed up leaving him at the altar, but I am trying to make things right by helping the company now," she argued, and I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at the absurdity of her statement. "Helping the company implies you actually do work, Chloe, but you barely know how to read a balance sheet," I reminded her as I pulled two mugs from the cabinet. "That is why I have you, and speaking of which, did you finish that contract for the McDonald's empire pitch? I have the meeting in two hours and I really need to impress the board if I am going to secure my position," she asked with widening eyes that begged for me to save her yet again. "It is on my vanity upstairs," I admitted with a sigh. I could never say no to her when she looked at me like that. "You are a lifesaver, Chelley, and I knew you could do it because you were always the smart one who actually paid attention in business school while I was partying," she praised me as she accepted the coffee I slid across the counter to her. "I wrote it out exactly how the investors need to hear it so just make sure you memorize the key points I highlighted or they will eat you alive," I warned her as I started pulling eggs and spinach out of the refrigerator to make us breakfast. "I will, I promise, as I just need this win, Chelley. Mom and Dad are finally starting to look at me with pride again and I don't want to mess it up," she confessed. We spent the next thirty minutes eating and talking about our childhood before everything got complicated by money and marriage, and for a moment it felt like we were just two sisters again instead of rivals in a twisted game I never asked to play. Chloe’s phone beeped loudly on the counter and she glanced at the screen before jumping off the stool in a panic. "Oh god, I completely lost track of time, the driver is outside and I have to get to the office to prep the conference room before the investors arrive," she shrieked as she grabbed her purse. "Don't rush or you will look flustered when you walk in," I advised her but she was already halfway to the door. "I love you, Chelley, wish me luck!" she yelled back and then the front door slammed shut and the house was silent once again. I sighed and started clearing the plates, but as I turned to head upstairs to get dressed for my appointment I realized she had left the thick manila envelope sitting right on my vanity where I told her it was. "Damn it, Chloe," I cursed under my breath, for without those documents she was going to walk into that meeting and look like an absolute fool. I glanced at the clock and realized that if I left now, I wouldn’t have enough time to get my egg retrieval done before swinging by the office to drop off the papers before her meeting started. It had to be the office first and then the hospital. I hurried upstairs to change into something presentable and grabbed the folder before rushing out to my car. The drive to the office was a blur of anxiety as I thought about the procedure and the pressure Jason had put on me to make this work, but I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the mission to save my sister’s reputation. I navigated the city traffic with aggressive determination and pulled into the underground garage of Hunt Enterprises just twenty minutes before the big meeting was scheduled to begin. I grabbed the envelope and took the private elevator straight up to the executive floor where Jason’s office and the main conference room were located. The hallway was quiet when the elevator doors slid open, and I assumed everyone was already gathering in the boardroom, so I headed toward Jason’s office first to see if Chloe was in there prepping with him. As I walked down the plush carpeted corridor, I started to hear a strange sound coming from behind the doors of my husband’s office. It sounded like someone was in pain or distress, and my first thought was that perhaps Jason was shouting at Chloe for forgetting the documents. I quickened my pace as I didn't want him to berate her when it was just an honest mistake, but as I got closer the sounds changed from indistinct noise to something that made me freeze. It was the sound of a woman moaning. "Uh... fuck, yes... yes!" I gripped the doorknob and turned it slowly so I wouldn't alert them to my presence. The door swung open silently and the scene before me shattered whatever fragile reality I had been clinging to for the past three years. My sister was bent over my husband’s desk with her skirt hiked up around her waist, and Jason was behind her, gripping her hips with a passion he had never once shown me in our entire marriage while he thrust into her with all his strength. I stood there paralyzed as the envelope slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a soft sound that drew their attention to the door. "Chloe?" I whispered.MitchelleDorian was already at the window when I opened my eyes.I lay still and watched him from the bed without announcing myself. The morning light came through the sheer curtains and fell across his back and shoulders, catching the healing scars from the bullet wounds in a way that made my chest tighten. I got up quietly and crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing my cheek between his shoulder blades."I cannot believe Geneva is this beautiful," I said softly."Of course it is," he replied, and I could hear the smile in it without seeing his face.He turned around slowly and looked at me in the morning light. Just looked. The way he had been looking at me since he woke up, like he needed to keep confirming I was real.He pulled me in and kissed me slowly, with the particular tenderness of a man who understood exactly how close he had come to never doing this again. When he pulled back his eyes were wet and I had never seen that before.Not once i
ChloeJason was in the bathroom again.I sat at the breakfast table staring at my eggs and listening to the particular silence of a man who had stopped pretending he was simply using the bathroom. His phone had gone in with him. It always went in with him now.I pushed my plate away.Three days since the funeral and nothing felt the way Diana had promised it would feel. Victory was supposed to feel clean. Final. Like a door closing on everything that had tried to destroy us.Instead it felt like standing in a room where someone had opened all the windows and the cold was coming in from every direction and nobody could agree on which one to close first.My phone buzzed on the table. A text from Diana popped up“You need to be at my house now. It's urgent.”I read it twice, finished my coffee at my own pace, and drove over.****Diana didn't greet me at the door.She was already moving when I walked in, crossing the living room with the tight clipped energy of someone containing somethi
MitchelleThe discharge papers took forty minutes.I stood at the nurses' station signing everything they put in front of me while Dorian sat in the wheelchair the hospital insisted on, which he was tolerating with the particular strained patience of a man who found the entire arrangement deeply beneath him."I can walk," he told the orderly for the second time."Hospital policy, sir," the orderly replied pleasantly, not looking up.Dorian looked at me.I looked back at him with an expression that said clearly do not fight this battle.He sat back in the wheelchair.When the last form was signed and the last instruction delivered, Dr. Castellano walked us to the exit personally, shaking Dorian's hand at the door with the warm directness of a man who understood exactly what this moment represented."Take it slowly," he told Dorian. "Your body has done extraordinary work. Don't insult it by rushing.""I won't," Dorian replied.Dr. Castellano looked at me."Make sure he doesn't," he said
MitchelleEverything happened at once.The monitors screamed to life, their steady rhythm fractured into urgent irregular beeping. Dr. Castellano was through the door in seconds, his team flooded in behind him, moving with the sharp coordinated efficiency of people trained for exactly this moment.I stepped back automatically, pressing myself against the wall, my eyes never left Dorian's face."Vitals are shifting," one nurse called out."I see it," Dr. Castellano replied, already at the bedside, his hands moved across the equipment with practiced calm. "Give him room."I watched every second of it.His chest rose differently. His fingers no longer just moved but pressed deliberately into the sheets. And then slowly, impossibly, his eyelids were open.Confused at first and unfocused. Moving across the ceiling without landing anywhere specific. Then the confusion began to clear the way fog clears, gradually and then all at once.Dr. Castellano looked at me and nodded once.I was at th
ChloeJason was already at the mirror when I opened my eyes.I watched him through my lashes, not moving, not announcing myself. Just watching. He moved between the wardrobe and the mirror with the practiced efficiency of a man who had long stopped performing for the woman in his bed. Selecting his tie, checking his cufflinks, adjusting his collar with the particular care of someone dressing for a person who wasn't in this room.Like I wasn't there. Like I was furniture he had stopped noticing years ago.His phone lit up on the bed between us.Once, twice then three times in quick succession.He crossed to it without urgency, picked it up, read whatever was on the screen.And smiled.Not at me. Not at anything in this room. At whatever was on that screen. A private, genuine, completely unguarded smile that I had not seen directed at me in longer than I could accurately remember. The kind of smile that belongs to a man who is thinking about someone specific.I kept my breathing even an
MitchelleI sat beside Dorian’s hospital bed, as my fingers threaded tightly through his, refusing to let go even for a second. The machines hummed steadily around us, a constant, mechanical heartbeat that had become the soundtrack to my days in Geneva. “The weather here this morning was perfect, Dee,” I whispered, tracing my thumb over his knuckles. “I walked to the little café around the corner from the house, the one with the blue shutters. Got that croissant you would pretend to hate but secretly love. They had it there.” My throat tightened, but I pushed through. I had to keep talking. Silence felt too much like giving up.“I’m trying so hard not to fall apart without you. But God, Dee, it’s been months. Months of pretending I’m strong enough for both of us.”The door stayed closed. The nurses had come and gone earlier, offering sympathetic smiles that never reached their eyes. I hated those smiles. My phone buzzed on the bedside table, jolting me. Danika. I snatched it up,







