Reborn Wife

Amara’s hand hesitated on the doorknob of her husband’s home office for a moment before she pushed it open.

What she saw stopped her heart cold.

Ethan, her husband of five years, was holding Celeste—the woman she had generously accepted into their home as Ethan’s adopted sister—in a way no brother should. Their lips were locked, their bodies pressed together, and the intimacy of the scene made Amara’s stomach churn.

“Ethan,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, trembling with disbelief.

They froze. Celeste turned first, her perfectly manicured nails trailing down Ethan’s chest as she stepped back.

A sly smirk played on her lips, completely devoid of shame. Ethan, on the other hand, looked stricken, his face paling under the weight of being caught.

“Amara, it’s not what it looks like,” Ethan stammered, stepping toward her.

“Not what it looks like?” Amara’s voice rose, her shock giving way to fury. She pointed a shaking finger at Celeste. “You were kissing her! I saw it with my own eyes!”

Ethan glanced at Celeste, who folded her arms and leaned against the desk casually, as though this were all a game.