Tumbling into Love

Olivia's POV

I should've been at the clinic today, but Emma and I swapped shifts so I could finally deal with that damn storage room I'd been putting off for months. Time to face those dusty college boxes. I was belting out Taylor Swift's latest hit when I heard a car door slam way too hard in the driveway.

Peeking through the window, I saw William's beat-up Ford pickup. My stupid heart did that annoying flutter—happened every single time he came home early. Maybe today we'd actually talk, maybe even... Christ, three whole months since he'd touched me like he gave a damn.

Just as I turned away, another engine roared up. Charlotte's bright red Honda. My twin sister.

Perfect, I thought. Probably planning another one of her ridiculous family get-togethers. Charlotte was obsessed with playing hostess.

But what happened next on our front walkway absolutely destroyed me.

She literally launched herself at him like some cheesy rom-com heroine, legs wrapping around his waist, and the way he kissed her back—that raw, starving kiss I hadn't seen in forever. At least not aimed at me.

My favorite mug crashed to the floor, ceramic pieces flying everywhere like my heart.

Holy shit. They were screwing around. My own husband and my twin sister.

My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold my phone, but I managed to hit record. I needed proof—William was a master at making me question my own sanity whenever I called him out on anything. Not this fucking time.

I snuck downstairs and cracked the front door just enough. Charlotte's laugh rang through our house—that same musical giggle that used to make everything better when we had nightmares as kids. Now it made me want to puke.

"Jesus, I've been dying without you." William's voice floated up, rough with want.

I crept to the stairs where I could see everything. They were already half-naked, William's stupid Bears jersey and Charlotte's sundress thrown around like confetti. Hold up—that dress was mine! We'd been sharing clothes our whole lives, and now she was wearing MY dress to screw MY husband.

I kept recording, even though my vision was getting blurry.

"Oh God, yes, please..." Charlotte moaned, and William dropped to his knees without hesitation.

The same man who always told me that was "gross" and "degrading." Who claimed he "wasn't into that stuff." But there he was, making my sister sound like a porn star.

Pure rage exploded through me—white-hot and vicious. Every single night he'd rolled over claiming he was "beat from work" or "too stressed." Every night I'd stared at the ceiling wondering what the hell was wrong with me.

When they stumbled to my beloved cream sofa—the one I'd saved for months to buy—William didn't even think about protection. With me, he always made such a big deal about condoms. "We can't afford a baby right now, babe. You know money's tight."

I filmed it all, tears streaming down my face but my hands steady as rocks.

"Why don't you just dump her already?" Charlotte purred afterward, curled up against his chest in my spot.

"Babe, you know the deal. She pays for everything—the house, my truck, all the credit cards, groceries, you name it. My construction paycheck is basically free money. Plus when I spoil you with jewelry and shit, she never even asks where the money went."

Charlotte let out this satisfied little moan, the same sound she used to make when we snuck Mom's chocolate stash. "You're such a bad boy. I love it."

"So we're all set for this weekend? You fed her that bullshit about the building conference?"

"Obviously. Three days at the Grand Hotel in their best suite. She actually thinks you're learning about green building or whatever." They both started cracking up.

They kissed again, all tender and lovey-dovey, and something inside my chest just died. Completely flatlined.

I was going to annihilate both of them. Before they had any clue what hit them.