He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Brennan’s POV

I’ve been replaying the last half year in my head, and the thought won’t quit: I think I’ve been having an affair.

Not bodies in bed. Not that. Something else—something quieter, and maybe worse. Emotional. Uninvited. I never set out to cross any line.

I saw a single mom who was drowning and I stepped in to help. That felt natural to me. I know what it’s like when it’s just you and your mother trying to hold everything together.

After my dad died, it was only Mama and me. A heart attack—sudden, brutal, and completely out of the blue. He was only thirty-two. He worked himself ragged for us, but he ate like his body was indestructible.

Every morning was the same: bacon, eggs, hash browns, coffee. Lunch was fast food. Dinner was heavy, greasy comfort—fried chicken, tacos, spaghetti, lasagna, mac and cheese with brisket, mashed potatoes drowning in butter and gravy. Meatball subs. Something to drink—beer, pop, brandy. Not a vegetable in sight. No salad. Nothing green.

Eventually his heart couldn’t keep up with the way he lived.

That’s the reason I became a personal fitness instructor.

I’d been pumped when Scar started at the gym—freshly certified, a new nutritionist and trainer with her whole life ahead of her. She was twenty-one then; I was twenty-five. Now she’s twenty-five and I’m twenty-nine.

For years I’ve been pushing for us to start a family. She’d finally been ready, finally. And now, with how she’s been acting lately, I can’t tell if we’re anywhere close to ready.

She didn’t get the pull I felt toward helping Sloane and Eve. They needed a man around. They needed someone to lift, fix, carry, handle. And—God help me—I liked that they needed me.

Scar has never needed much. She’s independent to her bones. I mow the yard, patch up whatever breaks, do the little repairs. But most of life’s moving pieces? She manages them without asking.

Sloane, though—handyman stuff might as well be another language to her. And Eve… Eve is just pure sweetness. She told me I’m her favorite person. She told me she wished I was her dad.

That hit me right in the chest.

When Sloane cooked for me to say thank you, I didn’t want to insult her by refusing. So I ate. Scar is the better cook by a mile, but Sloane’s food was… fine. Edible.

Still, Scar’s mood has been throwing me off. She knows I would never go out and physically cheat on her. I would never even consider it.

But the way she kept riding me—nagging, questioning, watching—it made the house feel tight, like there was no air. I didn’t want to sit in it.

So I’d give myself space. It was simpler to go to Sloane’s, or swing by my mom’s, than to argue.

And I hated the way Scar looked at me whenever Eve texted.

Eve sees me as her person. What was I supposed to do—ignore her? Crush a kid because my wife was irritated?

I’ve felt sick about the things I said to Scar. Calling her a bitch. Calling her selfish.

I’d been boiling over. Her attitude, the pressure, the constant tug-of-war—it was like I was living in two different directions at once. Sloane and Eve needed me. My wife wanted me all to herself.

And I won’t go down on Scar either. It just feels like that’s not something you do to your wife.

Seeing Scar this morning nearly dropped me. She looked washed out—pale, fragile, sadness sitting on her like weight. She wouldn’t meet my eyes.

It hurt.

At the gym, I didn’t like the first client she had. The guy didn’t even look like he needed a trainer.

I watched from a distance anyway, and what I saw made something ugly twist inside me. Scar wasn’t crossing any obvious line, but she smiled at him constantly. And she touched him more than she had to—little corrections, adjustments, hands on his arms and shoulders when he clearly knew what he was doing.

At the end, it looked like he was leaning in for a hug.

My whole body locked up. For a second I thought she was going to let him.

Then she flashed him a smile and offered her hand instead. He shook it.

I finally exhaled.

No man needs his hands on my woman.

I threw myself into my next session because I needed my head back on straight.