Forbidden: My Husband's Brother

Breakfast

REYNA'S POV

I woke before the sun again. The room was dark and quiet, the kind of quiet that made my thoughts feel louder than they already were. I had tried to sleep, really tried, but my mind refused to let me.

Every time I closed my eyes, Jeremy’s face appeared. His smile. The way he had looked at me the night before everything went wrong. And then the memory of his death would crash in, sharp and cold, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the ceiling. I whispered to myself, “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t just sit here.”

My hands itched to do something, to find a piece of the puzzle. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and walked quietly to the dresser. I rifled through the drawers until I found a stack of old receipts and photographs. My fingers paused over a photo, a snapshot of Jeremy smiling at me, taken a few nights before… before everything went wrong.

I stared at it for a long time. My stomach tightened. Then my eyes caught something I had almost forgotten. Jeremy had been wearing a watch that night. I remembered because he had shown it to me, joking about how it made him look serious. But in this photo, the watch was gone.

My chest ached. Why wasn’t it on his wrist? Had someone removed it before… before he…?

I shook my head and tried to push the thought away. I grabbed my phone and started scrolling through old messages, hoping for anything that could make sense. Then I froze.

A text from Jessica. From the night Jeremy died. I had never thought to read it carefully until now: “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”

I felt my stomach twist. That simple line, meant to sound comforting, suddenly felt heavy and cold. She had been the last person Jeremy saw alive. And she had sounded so calm, almost too calm.

I stared at my phone in silence, feeling the knot in my chest tighten. I needed answers. I had to find out what happened that night, no matter what it took.

By the time the sky lightened, I found myself in the kitchen. The house was still quiet, and the soft hum of the refrigerator felt like the only thing keeping the silence from pressing in on me.

Making breakfast had become my little routine. I wasn’t sure if Nicholas noticed, or if he even cared, but it gave me a small sense of normalcy, a tiny piece of the life I wanted to hold onto.

A few minutes later, Nicholas came down. His hair was still a little messy, and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed, but there was something in the way he carried himself that made him look… untouchable. Calm, precise, even at this early hour.

“Morning,” he said, his voice low but steady.

“Morning,” I replied, trying to sound cheerful. I poured him coffee, careful not to spill.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. The clinking of cutlery filled the space between us. I watched him over the rim of my mug. He had always been calm, like nothing could shake him, but lately, I had started noticing little things. The way his jaw tightened at nothing. The way he stared off into space for a little too long. Something was on his mind.

“So… business meeting today?” I asked, breaking the quiet.

He nodded. “Yeah. A meeting with a client I’ve been trying to secure for weeks. Early start.”

I nodded. “Sounds… serious.”

“It is.” He paused, taking a sip of coffee, and I could see the faint frown forming between his brows. I wondered briefly what he was thinking about, but I didn’t ask.

The silence stretched again, and I focused on my plate, picking at the toast. It felt awkward, but not hostile. I wasn’t sure if I liked this quiet, or if I just missed the sound of conversation.

Then his phone rang. He glanced at it, frowning slightly, and excused himself. “I’ll take this in the other room.”

I watched him leave, curious. Something in the way he moved, fast, a little tense, made me pause. I set down my fork and stared at the empty space where he had been.

Minutes passed. I could hear faint voices from the other room, but I couldn’t make out words. Then he returned.

His expression had changed. The tightness around his mouth was sharper, his jaw clenched just enough for me to notice. His eyes, which were usually so controlled, flicked toward me for a brief second before he forced a small smile.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Family business.”

I nodded, not pressing. But I couldn’t stop the thought in my mind: ever since he married me, I hadn’t seen his mother or his aunt much. They obviously still hated me, or at least, couldn’t stand the idea of me living under the same roof. That tension lingered, unspoken, and now it felt sharper, like it was creeping through the walls.

“You okay?” I asked, testing the waters.

He gave me a tight smile. “I’m fine. Just… a little early morning stress.”

I didn’t press further. I had learned that some walls couldn’t be broken with words.

We returned to breakfast, the clink of cutlery sounding louder in the silence. I noticed the way he kept glancing at his phone, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. Something had unsettled him, I could tell.

I wanted to ask who called, but I forced myself to stay quiet. Instead, I focused on my own plate, on the warmth of the toast and the coffee that burned my tongue in the best way. I needed something solid, something familiar, to ground me.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said suddenly, looking at me over his mug.

I shrugged. “Just… thinking.”

“About work?” he asked, though I knew he wasn’t really asking about work.

I shook my head. “No. Just… life. Things that don’t make sense.”

He nodded slowly. I caught the faintest twitch in his lips, like he wanted to say more but decided not to. He always did that, kept things inside, even when it burned.

“I’m going to head to the office soon,” he said finally, standing and grabbing his jacket. “Meeting’s at nine.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

He hesitated for a moment, then added, almost as an afterthought, “Be careful today.”

“I will” I muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded his head, then gave a half-smile and left. I watched the door close behind him and felt a strange emptiness settle in the room.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the coffee cup in my hands. My thoughts drifted back to Jeremy, to Jessica, to the night that refused to leave me in peace. I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to find answers.

I set the cup down and grabbed my phone again, scrolling through messages and notes I had saved, looking for anything, anything that might make sense of the chaos. That night, Jeremy’s death, Jessica’s strange calm, there had to be a reason. And I was determined to find it, no matter how long it took, no matter what I had to dig up.

I wasn’t going to be passive anymore. Not now, not ever.