Page 60 of Clinically Bewitched
This cannot be happening.
I’m a neurosurgeon. A man of science. A person who understands cause and effect and the basic principles of locked doors.
And yet...
From above me, on the bed, I heard a soft sound.
A yawn.
Ayawn.
Like she was just waking up from a pleasant night’s sleep in someone else’s bed without permission.
“Julien?” Her voice was sleepy, warm, completely unbothered. “Are you okay? I heard a noise.”
“Anoise?” I managed, my voice somewhere between a whisper and a shriek. “You heard a—that wasme!Screaming. Because you’renaked. In mybed!”
“Oh.” A pause. “Did I startle you?”
“Startle me?”
I pulled myself up using the bed frame, still wrapped in sheets like the world’s most panicked burrito, and stared at her. She was sitting up now, completely unconcerned about her state of undress, her hair tousled and her expression one of mild confusion.
LikeIwas the one being unreasonable.
“How—?” I started, then stopped, then started again. “How are youhere?”
“I came over.”
“Youcame over?!”
“Yes.”
“To my apartment?”
“Yes.”
“The apartment I didn’t give you the address to?”
“Oh, Vivian texted it to me. She said you would probably need someone to check on you, make sure you were settling in okay.” She smiled. “She’s very thoughtful.”
Vivian.
Benedict Arnold Vivian.
My former sister. That traitor, Vivian, who is apparently now actively conspiring with my accidental wife to destroy what remains of my sanity.
“And you just...” I gestured vaguely at the bed, at her, at the entire impossible situation. “You just let yourself in?”
“The doorman was very nice. I told him I was your wife and that I had lost my key, and he let me up. Very trusting. Good energy.”
“He let you—” I closed my eyes. Took a breath. Opened them again. “And then you just... got into my bed?”
“Well, I knocked first. But you were already asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful, so I just...” She shrugged. “The universe guided me.”
“The universe,” I said very carefully, “does not have opinions about bedroom arrangements.”
“Of course it does. Everything is connected. And clearly, the universe wanted us to—”
