She Stole My Husband I Married His Brother

Harper's POV:

I should have known better than to trust happiness.

The bedroom door stood half open. I'd come home early to surprise Connor with his favorite dinner, something I did every week because he once told me it made him feel loved. The apartment was quiet except for sounds coming from upstairs. Sounds I recognized, that made my stomach turn cold.

I pushed the door wider.

Connor was in our bed. The sheets I'd washed that morning were tangled around two bodies, and when the woman turned her head, I saw Jenny's face. My best friend. The person who stood beside me at my wedding.

"Harper." Connor didn't even look surprised. He sat up slowly, like I was interrupting something casual. Like I was the one who'd walked into the wrong room.

I couldn't breathe. My lungs forgot how to work.

"Say something," I whispered, but it came out broken. "Tell me... tell me this isn't what it looks like."

Jenny laughed. She pulled the sheet around herself and stood up, and she was laughing. "Oh Harper. Always so dramatic."

"Dramatic?" The word tasted bitter. "You're in bed with my husband."

"Your husband?" Jenny's voice went sharp and mean. "Because you still have sex sometimes you think that makes him yours? I've been sharing him with you, slut. I decided to be generous."

The room tilted. I grabbed the doorframe to steady myself because my legs wanted to give out. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be Jenny. My Jenny who brought me coffee every morning. Who said she loved me like a sister.

I turned to Connor instead. Maybe he would fix this. Maybe he would tell Jenny to stop being cruel and explain that this was a mistake. A terrible, fixable mistake.

"Connor, please. What is she talking about?"

He got out of bed and reached for his pants. He moved like he had all the time in the world. Like my heart wasn't breaking into pieces right in front of him.

"She's telling the truth, Harper. We're married on paper. That's all. You're my figurehead wife. The one my father loves so much." He said it with disgust, like my relationship with his father was something dirty. "At least you have Dad wrapped around your finger. Isn't that what you wanted from the beginning?"

"What I wanted?" My voice cracked. "I wanted you, I loved you."

"Love?" He laughed and it was cold. "I picked you up from that pathetic bar where you were washing dishes, and you decided to steal my position in my father's company."

"I didn't steal anything," I said, but my voice was too broken.

Jenny stepped closer. Her eyes were bright with something that looked like hate. "Don't even try to defend yourself. You know exactly what you do, Harper. You play this innocent girl act and everyone falls for it. That's how you stole my position one month after you started at Blake Industries. One month. I worked for two