My Husband Sent His Best Friend to Share My Bed

My Husband Sent His Best Friend to Share My Bed

Joy Brown · Ongoing · 6.7k Words

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Introduction

Two years ago, a car crash took my sight. The day it finally came back, I couldn't wait to share the news with my husband, Grant.

But outside the door, I overheard Grant talking with his assistant, Owen.

"Mr. Holloway, Mrs. Holloway has been blind for two years. Just so you could be with your first love, you had Mr. Callahan wear your cologne and copy your voice, and lie beside her every night... Aren't you afraid the two of them will actually sleep together?"

Grant took a sip of his drink, his voice smug.

"Miles has the best self-control of anyone I know. Back when we were starting out, he stayed clear-headed even after somebody spiked his drink at a business dinner.

"Besides, since Nora lost her sight, she's had almost no interest in sex. She lives inside her own shame now."

Owen couldn't resist teasing him. "Honestly, I can't decide whether to pity Mrs. Holloway or wonder whether Miles even likes women. She's the most beautiful woman in our circle, and those two just talk and nothing ever happens. What a waste!"

"Then you take Miles's place next time and keep Nora entertained."

The laughter that followed grated in my ears.

I looked at Miles, sitting in the corner. Aloof, sparing with words, his profile clean and sharp. A man that fine, that striking, left to go to waste.

It really was a shame.

Chapter 1

Two years ago, a car crash took my sight. The day it finally came back, I couldn't wait to share the news with my husband, Grant.

But outside the door, I overheard Grant talking with his assistant, Owen.

"Mr. Holloway, Mrs. Holloway has been blind for two years. Just so you could be with your first love, you had Mr. Callahan wear your cologne and copy your voice, and lie beside her every night... Aren't you afraid the two of them will actually sleep together?"

Grant took a sip of his drink, his voice smug.

"Miles has the best self-control of anyone I know. Back when we were starting out, he stayed clear-headed even after somebody spiked his drink at a business dinner.

"Besides, since Nora lost her sight, she's had almost no interest in sex. She lives inside her own shame now."

Owen couldn't resist teasing him. "Honestly, I can't decide whether to pity Mrs. Holloway or wonder whether Miles even likes women. She's the most beautiful woman in our circle, and those two just talk and nothing ever happens. What a waste!"

"Then you take Miles's place next time and keep Nora entertained."

The laughter that followed grated in my ears.

I looked at Miles, sitting in the corner. Aloof, sparing with words, his profile clean and sharp. A man that fine, that striking, left to go to waste.

It really was a shame.


Looking back, I should have noticed something was wrong long before.

For the two years I couldn't see, "Grant" had grown colder and colder with me.

He barely spoke. There was always a kind of distance between us, even when we were in the same room.

I was blind, and no matter how helpless I felt, the shame sitting on my chest kept me from ever asking why.

My sight had been creeping back for months, first blurs, then shapes, then faces. I'd been saving the news for the right moment. I was still deciding how to use it when I heard the front door open.

Behind me came Miles's voice, doing Grant's.

"Nora, I'm home."

I had to admit, Miles was good at it. No wonder I'd never suspected a thing.

I lifted my eyes slowly, my gaze blank and unfocused, and let it land on the hard rise and fall of Miles's chest.

The best body in our whole circle, everyone said. Half the magazines in New York had begged to put him on a cover. They weren't wrong.

Miles Callahan, the coldest man in the city. The one nobody could get close to, the one who had never once been tamed.

Nobody understood why he let Grant push him around. Everyone knew Grant's money had saved him back when he was starting out, but nobody believed a debt could stretch this far.

Why would he play pretend with me for two whole years? Why would he go so far as to lie beside me every night?

I couldn't figure it out either. But if the two of them loved acting so much, I'd play along to the very end.

I pretended I couldn't see, threw my arms open, and fell into Miles's chest, wrapping them around his waist.

"Honey, you're home."

His scent filled my head, cedar and smoke, the signature cologne Grant had worn for years. While I was there, I ran a hand over the muscle hidden under his shirt.

In the two years I'd been blind, Miles had always kept his distance.

No matter how close we got, he had never crossed the line.

Miles's hands pulled back suddenly, as if all that warmth had startled him.

"Nora, what's wrong?"

I squeezed out a few tears and made my voice small and hurt.

"Ever since I lost my sight, you haven't touched me. Is it because you think a blind woman isn't good enough for you?"

Miles's brows drew together. He dropped that coldness of his and softened his voice to soothe me.

"Of course not. You were in the ICU for a month after the accident. The doctors said no stress, nothing too strenuous. I was afraid you couldn't handle it."

"I'm fine now. I can handle it."

I reached up and started on his shirt buttons, sliding my palm around to the broad plane of his back.

"Honey, you've been holding back for two years. Doesn't that get exhausting?"

Miles's throat moved. His voice dropped low, and it did something to me.

"It's fine..."

I rose onto my toes, hooked both hands behind his neck to pull him down, and breathed against his throat.

"Then should we..."

Before I could finish, the phone on the sofa rang.

"Let me take this."

Miles's whole body finally loosened. He grabbed the phone and stepped out onto the balcony.

I hid behind the curtain, and through the phone I could hear Grant's lazy voice.

"Miles, tomorrow's Grandfather's eightieth birthday, if I remember right. I'll switch with you for the day."

The light in Miles's eyes went out.

"Fine."

"It's been months since we switched. Fill me in on you and Nora so I don't slip up."

The line got loud all at once. It sounded like a whole table of men at the club, cards and ice clinking, all of them ribbing Grant.

"Grant, you're dating Daphne and juggling Nora on the side. Which one actually matters more to you?"

Grant's voice was full of scorn.

"How could Nora ever compare to Daphne? She's been throwing herself at me since we were kids. If Grandfather hadn't picked Nora for me, I never would have married her. Daphne is the woman I actually want."

I froze. Then I lowered my head and laughed at myself.

It was true. I had loved Grant once. I was a Whitaker, with a name and a future of my own, and I still chose to be his shadow.

From eighteen to twenty-eight. A full ten years.

And it wasn't until after our wedding, until he made me Mrs. Holloway, that the accident took my sight.

What I got in return was Miles at my side, day after day, night after night.

For two years, my whole life had been a farce from beginning to end.

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