The Brother Swap He Deserved

After they pulled me out of the surf, my fiancé, Milo Schneider, looked wrecked—eyes red, breathing all over the place.

On impulse, I decided to mess with him.

"I think I lost my memory. Where am I?"

I kept my face blank.

He froze for a second, then shoved his brother, Sean Schneider, toward me.

"Sean, take your fiancée to the hospital—now."

Yeah. That smile on my face? Gone.

Sean pulled me into his arms.

"Abigail, I'm your fiancé. Did you forget?"

After a bunch of tests, the doctor actually said my "amnesia" came from a childhood blood clot.

I curled my fingers, nails digging into my palm.

'Yeah, right.'

Milo's eyes lit up. He didn't even try to hide it.

So that's it—he wasn't worried at all.

The realization hit cold, like I'd dropped straight into ice water.

Sean, on the other hand, draped a blanket over me, careful, steady.

"Wait here. I'll take you home in a minute."

I looked at his sharp, sculpted features and nodded blankly.

Then I slipped after them.

Milo's voice floated up the stairwell, all fake sweet. "Sean, just help me out this once. I finally get to dump Abigail—that clingy headache. Just seeing her face annoys me, and I still have to act like I'm obsessed with her. You have no idea how miserable I've been."

Sean's voice was ice-cold. "You're the one engaged to her. If she gets her memory back, it's gonna blow up."

A pause. Then Milo again, practically pleading.

"You know I've liked Dorothy forever. But she's just the adopted daughter. I still have to marry Abigail. Now that she 'forgot,' just let me have a few good days with Dorothy. You're my brother—I trust you. Just... don't get too close to Abigail. I still have to marry her."

I sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled back to the chairs outside the exam room, shaking all over.

The guy who used to stick to me everywhere—car, bed, even the bathroom—muttering nonstop that he loved me just handed me off to his own brother.

That fake love? Yeah, I don't want it. Never did.

Since the one he actually wants is Dorothy...

Fine. I'll make it happen for them.

***

When Sean came back, he pulled me into his arms, gentle, like I might break.

In the car, he reached over and clicked my seatbelt in, careful.

At his place, even lying on his bed, I still felt off.

Black. White. Gray.

No photos. No decor. Even the pillows felt cold.

The whole place looked staged—like nobody actually lived there.

Not a single piece of women's clothing anywhere.

I clutched my damp, salt-stiff clothes, standing there, lost.

Sean didn't even blink.

"Go change into my pajamas."

He leaned in, brushed his lips against my forehead, then exhaled. "Good. No fever. Get some rest. I'll make you some hot chocolate."

Every time I'd seen him before, he'd felt untouchable.

Cold. Off-limits.

No one went near him.

I'd even heard