Trapped Between Twins

After my cold, distant husband returned from overseas, his personality completely changed. Every night, he kept me up until dawn.

The man who had been too busy to even touch me during our three years of marriage suddenly became obsessed with my body.

I thought it was just that absence made the heart grow fonder, but then strange pop-up comments appeared in front of me.

[I can't wait to see the male lead, Trevor Blackwell, lose his mind when he gets back in a month and finds out someone is sleeping with his wife.]

My blood ran cold.

Trevor was my husband. If he had not come back yet, then who was this man in front of me who looked exactly like him?

"Are you zoning out at a moment like this? What are you thinking about, huh?"

Looking at the face identical to my husband, Trevor Blackwell, and hearing that voice I knew down to my bones, the unease sparked by those pop-up messages quickly faded.

'Right... How could there possibly be two people in the world who looked exactly alike?'

I told myself that those messages must have been hallucinations from sheer exhaustion.

"Why won't you answer me?"

The man's deep voice carried a barely noticeable hint of hurt. However, his fingers gripped my chin with undeniable force, making me turn back to face him and look directly into those unfathomable eyes.

"Am I not good enough? Is that why you're thinking about someone else?"

He deliberately slowed his words, and the last note of his sentence lifted slightly.

Thinking back to how exhausted I had been just moments ago, my heartbeat skipped, and I instinctively wanted to deny it. However, those scrolling messages invaded my vision again, completely beyond my control.

[The female lead has it so good. I'm so jealous!]

[Judging by that performance, he might even be better than Trevor. That went on for a full three hours!]

[Haha! I can't wait for Trevor to come back and find out his wife dumped him, crying like a lost puppy! Bring on the twin showdown already!]

I thought it was ridiculous. Trevor and I had a strong relationship. Before he left, we were planning our future together. There was no way I would cheat on him.

Those messages were absolutely absurd!

I shook my head hard and tried to drive those distractions away, yet deep inside, a faint voice kept arguing back.

The man in front of me had definitely changed since he returned from overseas.

The way he hugged me no longer instinctively protected the back of my neck, and his kisses had lost that gentle hesitation, replaced by a kind of urgency that felt almost aggressive.

Earlier, certain subtle habitual movements carried an unfamiliar quality.

Trying to dispel that inappropriate doubt, my fingers unconsciously moved to the inside of his left wrist. There was a faint crescent-shaped scar there, a mark Trevor had accidentally gotten the first time he cooked for me.

When my