Part 1The Other Man’s Understudy

When Caleb brought me breakfast, he discovered a man hiding in my apartment.

He was shocked. Then, he was furious.

He pointed a shaking finger at Hayes’s nose and shouted, "You shameless homewrecker!"

Hayes looked at him with utter disdain.

"Kid, I knew her before you were even born."

Caleb looked even more horrified. He turned to me.

"Wait... so, am I the side piece?"

Hayes smirked. "No. You’re number four. Get in line."

* * *

I woke up to see Hayes standing by my bed, wearing nothing but grey sweatpants and my floral apron.

I thought I was still dreaming.

Until he reached out, touched my forehead, and asked in that cold, crisp voice of his:

"Still hungover?"

I jolted awake like I’d been electrocuted.

"Why are you in my house?"

"I made oatmeal..."

We spoke at the same time, then fell silent at the same time.

Thankfully, a knock at the door broke the suffocating awkwardness.

"I’ll get it."

I grabbed a trench coat, threw it over my silk nightgown, and fled the bedroom.

The person at the door was Caleb, a junior colleague from work.

I was surprised.

Caleb’s face was glowing with youthful energy. He was holding a bag of warm comfort food.

"Morning, Nora! I brought coffee and those bagels you like from the corner deli."

But his smile vanished the second he looked past me and saw Hayes.

Hayes, being the psychopath he is, had taken off the hoodie he was wearing under the apron. Now, the floral fabric barely covered his broad, muscular chest.

The apron cinched at his waist, emphasizing his V-taper.

Below that, grey sweatpants.

It was a look that screamed "we just had sex."

Shocked and angry, Caleb covered my eyes with his hand and yelled at Hayes.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you know Nora has a boyfriend?"

"What is this behavior? Put some clothes on!"

The more he spoke, the angrier he got. But his voice was trembling.

It went from rage to grievance, and finally, to choking back tears.

I tried to explain. "Caleb, it’s not what it looks like."

Nobody was listening to me.

Caleb was pointing at Hayes, cursing him out. calling him a "shameless homewrecker."

Hayes didn’t say a word.

He glanced at the bagels in Caleb’s hand, then calmly grabbed my wrist and sat me down at the dining table.

"The oatmeal cooled down. Eat."

Caleb stormed over, snatched the bowl of oatmeal away, and laid out the bagels he brought.

That was when Hayes finally looked annoyed.

Caleb pointed at the door. "I’ll take care of Nora. You—whoever you are—get the hell out."

He was acting like the man of the house.

Hayes just let out a cold laugh.

"I knew her before you were even born."

I tried to de-escalate. "Caleb, he and I... we aren't in a relationship like that."

But Caleb, immersed in his own heartbreak, had his own logic.

He looked at Hayes. Then at me. Then back at Hayes.

"So... am I the side piece?"

"No," I said quickly.

Hayes threw gasoline on the fire. "You’re the side piece's understudy. Number four."

The apartment was chaos.

Caleb looked at me, his expression shattering. He looked like a kicked puppy.

I glared at Hayes. "Since when is he number four?"

I tried to remember last night.

I remembered getting drunk, calling Hayes, and him telling me to stay put.

Before that... Caleb had confessed his feelings to me.

But I vividly remembered rejecting him.

I asked Hayes, "What exactly happened last night?"

While Caleb was zoning out in shock, Hayes swept all the bagels into the trash can.

Then he answered casually:

"After you passed out, this kid texted you a confession. I thought he seemed sincere, so I accepted on your behalf."

Hayes cleaned the table as he spoke. Then he looked up at me, a bitter smile on his lips.

"Since you already have a side piece, I figured one more wouldn't hurt. I’m not the jealous type."

I rolled my eyes. "Generous of you."

Caleb seemed to reboot.

His righteous indignation was gone. He looked at Hayes, his voice small.

"If I’m number four... does that make you the boyfriend?"

That question hit a nerve.

Hayes paused for two seconds.

"No," he said darkly. "I’m the mistress."