Chapter 11 Forbidden Affair With My Brother in-law
TATIANA’S POV
“Do you have to go for a meeting this morning, Michael?” My voice came out smaller than I wanted, shaky and desperate. I hated how it trembled, how I always seemed to be the one begging.
But I was desperate. Just once, I wanted him to keep his word—to look at me and mean it.
Michael barely lifted his eyes from his plate as he cut into another meatball. “You know how my work is, Tatiana. I can’t just stay home.”
That simple shrug twisted like a knife. He didn’t even look up. The indifference in his tone hurt more than his words ever could.
But that was Michael—cold when I needed warmth, distant when I tried to reach for him. The passion we once had vanished the moment we said “I do.” Like the vows were a finish line he’d been racing toward, not a beginning.
“That’s what you said last week!” I blurted, tears blurring my sight. “You said you’d stay home with me! It’s our anniversary!”
His chair screeched against the floor as he slammed a fist on the table. The sound cracked through the air, making me flinch. “Are you trying to tell me what to do now?” His voice was sharp, rising with each word. “Trying to control me?”
The memory of that night—of his hand, the sting, the shock—flashed behind my eyes. He’d sworn it would never happen again, but the look in his face now said it could, easily.
I dropped my gaze to my plate, fingers tightening on my lap. “No,” I whispered.
“Good.”
Silence stretched… until another voice cut through it. Calm, cool, almost lazy.
“Is everything alright?”
My heart stuttered. I turned toward the stairs.
Jaxon stood there, one hand on the banister, his body relaxed but his eyes sharp. He wore only grey sweatpants, hanging low on his hips, his hair messy from sleep. The faint morning light poured over his bare chest.
Michael straightened, his tone changing immediately. “Of course, we were just having a little discussion.”
Jaxon’s eyes flicked toward me. They were unreadable, but the heat behind them made my breath catch. “Your wife doesn’t look like it was a little discussion.”
Michael glared, jaw tight. “And what would you know about that?”
Jaxon came down the last few steps, slow, unbothered. He reached for an apple from the basket in front of me. The movement pulled my attention unwillingly—the flex of muscle under skin, the way his hand wrapped around the fruit, effortless and sure.
I dropped my gaze fast. Don’t stare. Don’t look.
But I could feel him beside me, his nearness like static. I could smell his clean, faintly citrus scent—so different from the stale cologne Michael left behind.
“Just saying, brother,” he murmured, voice smooth, teasing.
Michael adjusted his cuffs and turned to me. “I won’t be home early. Don’t wait up.”
And then he was gone. Like always.
The house fell silent. I could hear the clock ticking, the faint bite of apple breaking the quiet.
“You could really do better, Tiana,” Jaxon said, his tone low, almost thoughtful. He didn’t look at me when he said it, but I felt it land deep.
I lifted my head. “What did you just say?”
He met my gaze—steady, deliberate. “You could do much better.”
Then, after a pause that made my heart skip, he turned and walked away. “Have a little fun yourself, Tiana.”
His words echoed after him. Have a little fun yourself.
What did he mean?
The question stuck with me all day, replaying every time I saw the empty chair at the table or caught the faint sound of his footsteps upstairs. Each time I remembered the way his eyes lingered just a little too long.
By the time the sun dipped beyond the horizon and shadows stretched across the house, I sat on the edge of my bed, running my fingers over the thin straps of my lingerie. My pulse was loud in my ears.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. I was married. I should hate myself for it.
But the thought of Michael—his temper, his indifference, his voice with another woman—burned away every reason to care.
My hand trembled as I picked up my phone. I called him.
It rang, and then his irritated voice came through. “What?”
A woman’s breathless giggle followed: “Who’s that, baby?”
My stomach dropped. My throat closed. I hung up.
Right. He was with Jennifer. Again.
That was the final push.
I stood, pulled a fuzzy robe around myself, and walked out before I could change my mind. Every step down the hall felt reckless. My heart thudded so hard I could hear it.
I stopped in front of Jaxon’s door. Raised my hand. Knocked.
The door opened, and there he was—barefoot, hair a little damp, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them. His gaze traveled over me, lingering just a second too long before meeting my eyes again. “Yeah?”
My breath caught. “I…”
He tilted his head, that faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “You what?”
I couldn’t speak. My words got lost somewhere between fear and the rush of heat crawling under my skin. His eyes moved slowly—over my robe, over my bare collarbone peeking out, back to my lips.
I felt naked even though I wasn’t.
I swallowed hard. “I just…”
He straightened, pushing off the doorframe, closing the space between us by inches. The faint scent of soap and apple surrounded me. “Come in, Tiana.” His voice was low, careful, but full of something I couldn’t name. “We have a lot to talk about.”
My breath hitched. My heart stuttered.
We had a lot to talk about.
But the look in his eyes told me talking wasn’t the only thing on his mind.
And for the first time in a long while… I didn’t feel afraid of what might happen next.