My Best Friend’s Wife Moved In / Chapter 2: An Unexpected Guest
My Best Friend’s Wife Moved In

My Best Friend’s Wife Moved In

Author: Jennifer Chen


Chapter 2: An Unexpected Guest

I had just fallen asleep when a loud banging woke me up.

Groggy, I found someone knocking at my door again.

I peered through the peephole. It was Rachel.

Why was she back?

I opened the door. "Rachel, what’s wrong?"

She looked embarrassed. "Sorry for waking you again. I realized after I got home that I’d left my bag here—my keys and ID are inside, so I can’t get into my apartment. I had no choice but to come back."

I was at a loss. "So what now?"

She sighed. "I’ll have to call a locksmith tomorrow. Can I crash here tonight?"

"Uh..." I scratched my head, unsure what to do.

"Just give me a blanket. I’ll sleep on the sofa."

I hesitated. She was my friend’s wife—her staying over, just the two of us, was really inappropriate.

Seeing my hesitation, she suddenly started crying.

I quickly let her in, closed the door, and said, "Rachel, why not stay with a girlfriend? If Marcus finds out you stayed here, what would he think?"

"It’s so late—I can’t bother anyone else." She wiped her tears. "Besides, I don’t want my friends to know about my situation."

I couldn’t say more, so I fetched a blanket and set it up on the sofa.

"Thank you," she said, biting her lip. "Can I use your bathroom to wash up?"

I rummaged around, found some new pajamas and toiletries, and handed them to her.

"They’re a bit big, but they’re new. Make do with them."

"Thanks, Derek. Sorry for the trouble."

She took the items and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

The bathroom door was frosted glass. The light inside cast her silhouette on the panel—her undressing, the curve of her figure, all blurred and dreamlike.

The house was so quiet, the only sound was the hum of the fridge and the distant siren from the street below. My cheeks grew hot, and I felt the urge to look away, embarrassed by my own thoughts.

The sound of water started. I could almost imagine water droplets sliding down her hair, tracing her body.

My heartbeat quickened. I felt my blood rush, nearly unable to stand it.

Realizing how inappropriate my thoughts were, I quickly looked away and went back to my room, turning on the TV.

But I didn’t hear a word of what the host was saying.

I downed half a bottle of water but still felt parched, unable to resist glancing at the bathroom door again.

Knowing this was no good, I opened the window. The night wind blew in, chilling me, and gradually calmed my nerves.

The water stopped. Rachel should have finished, but there was no sound from outside.

I opened my door to check if she needed help—just as she was about to knock.

She lost her balance and fell forward, landing right in my arms.

I staggered, and we both tumbled to the floor.

The carpet scraped my elbow as we hit the ground, a tangle of limbs and apologies.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know you were outside..."

She was on top of me. Instinctively, I pushed, and accidentally touched somewhere I shouldn’t have.

She yelped, as if shocked, scrambled up, and glared at me, eyes blazing.

"Why are you so quiet?"

"Sorry, my fault." I felt awkward and couldn’t explain. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She calmed down. "I wanted to ask if you have a hair dryer."

I nodded, found one, and handed it over.

She took it, unplugged the TV, plugged in the dryer, and started drying her hair—like she was in her own home.

I leaned against the pillow, scrolling through my phone.

After a while, she put the dryer away and sat next to me. "Since you’re not sleepy, I wanted to ask you some legal questions."

Not sleepy? I was about to collapse.

But I managed a polite, "What questions?"

"If it’s embezzlement, how long is the sentence?"

I thought. "Usually less than three years. If the amount is huge, three to ten. If it’s especially huge, more than ten years—even life."

Her eyes filled with tears. "How much counts as ‘huge’ or ‘especially huge’?"

I glanced at her, yawning. "I forget the exact numbers. You can check online."

"I hope Marcus will be okay." She sighed. "But no matter what, three years or five, I’ll wait for him. Please do your best."

Seeing her cry, I didn’t know what to say.

As they say, true feelings show in tough times. For her to say that now, I felt real respect for her.

Marcus was a bit unreliable, and his relationships had always been messy, but with a wife like this, what more could he want?

She kept talking—asking my opinions, sharing little things about her and Marcus.

I was so tired, I could barely keep my eyes open.

The lights were off, and I had no idea when she left.

The next morning, my alarm woke me. I reached out to yawn—my hand landed on something. No, on someone.

I jolted awake to see Rachel lying beside me, turned on her side, her hair covering half her face. She was even sharing my blanket.

The room was bathed in early morning sunlight, the city’s noise just starting to build outside. For a split second, I wondered if this was a nightmare or some twisted rom-com. Either way, I was screwed.

My heart pounded. What the hell? I’d slept in the same bed and under the same blanket as my friend’s wife?

She heard me stir and sat up, dazed. Our eyes met, and for a second, the air seemed to freeze.

"Ah!" She shrieked, covering her face with her hair. "How did this happen? I must’ve fallen asleep talking to you last night. This is so embarrassing."

I was stunned, speechless.

"We’re innocent. Nothing happened." She quickly got out of bed, biting her lip. "But don’t tell Marcus."

I snapped out of it. "Rachel, I’m not stupid."

She looked at me, suddenly serious. "This is our secret, buried in our hearts forever. If you tell anyone, I’ll make sure you never speak again. Got it?"

I almost laughed at her playful threat, but she looked dead serious. "I’m not stupid," I repeated.

She rolled her eyes. "Don’t keep calling me ‘Rachel.’ Just call me Rae. From now on, we’re like siblings."

I was caught off guard. "Alright."

Every time she glanced my way, I felt like a kid caught doing something wrong, even though I hadn’t done anything at all. I nodded, still groggy, but relieved the tension was broken. She smiled, a bit bashful, and busied herself fixing her hair before heading to the bathroom.

I lay awake, the city humming outside, wondering what I’d just gotten myself into.

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