After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law

Aria woke up slowly, floating in a warm, heavy haze of post-coital bliss.

She stretched her legs beneath the blanket, letting out a soft groan as a deep, delicious ache radiated through her thighs and lower back.

The space beside her was empty, the sheets cool to the touch.

She vaguely remembered the feeling of Damien’s lips pressing a lingering, tender kiss to her forehead in the early hours of the morning, his deep voice murmuring a promise to return as soon as he finished a mandatory board meeting.

Aria pulled the blanket up to her collarbone, reveling in the fact that she was completely, gloriously naked underneath.

She turned her head, lazily scanning the sterile room.

Her eyes caught a tiny, rhythmic pulse of light in the far upper corner of the ceiling.

Aria’s eyes narrowed. It was a camera. A highly advanced surveillance lens pointed directly at her bed.

He had promised this morning no guards inside the room, but he was going to increase the security elsewhere.

Damien’s brand of possessive paranoia was in full swing. A normal person would have found it suffocating. She just found it incredibly hot.

Aria was just about to reach for the TV remote when the glass doors violently burst open.

Aria gasped, instinctively yanking the blanket all the way up to her chin to preserve her modesty.

Zoe fell into the room.

She looked like she had just wrestled a homeless person. Her usually immaculate, blunt-cut purple hair was sticking up in chaotic directions. She was wearing yesterday’s leggings, an oversized hoodie, and the dark circles under her eyes were so profound they were basically casting their own shadows.

”Zoe!” Aria scolded, clutching the blanket. ”Knock! I am completely naked under here!”

Zoe slammed the door shut and began pacing like a caged, caffeinated raccoon.

”I am in hell,” Zoe announced, her voice cracking with sheer, unadulterated hysteria. ”I have not slept in twenty-four hours, Aria. I am residing in the seventh circle of emotional hell, and I need you to tell me I’m not crazy.”

Aria propped herself up against the pillows, her annoyance immediately fading into gossip-fueled intrigue. ”What happened?”

Zoe threw her hands into the air. ”I am having boy problems!”

Aria’s eyebrows shot up. ”Boy problems? You?”

”Yes! With a guy! A toxic, infuriating, emotionally stunted menace of a guy!” Zoe ranted, aggressively rubbing her temples. ”Listen to this timeline. He ghosted me for three entire days. Radio silence. Nothing. And then, out of nowhere, he pops up at my apartment in the middle of the night, absolutely hammered, looking for a hookup!”

Aria grimaced. ”Ew. Standard fuckboy behavior. Did you let him in?”

”No! I have standards!” Zoe shrieked defensively. ”I slammed the door in his stupid, gorgeous face! I wanted to protect my heart, Aria! I wanted peace!”

”Good for you,” Aria nodded approvingly. ”Boundary setting.”

”But then yesterday happened,” Zoe whimpered, sinking into the chair. ”He showed up again. Sober this time. Doing a massive apology tour. He was begging for forgiveness, saying he had changed, saying he realized he was an idiot.”

”Words are cheap,” Aria crossed her arms under the blanket.

”Oh, he brought more than words,” Zoe sighed, dropping her head into her hands. ”He brought gifts. Expensive gifts. He tried to hand me a literal Hermes Birkin bag, Aria. A muddy brown Birkin to ’match my eyes’. He was trying to buy me!”

Aria let out a low whistle. ”Okay, a Birkin is a strong opening argument. Did you take it?”

”No! I threw it back at him!” Zoe yelled. ”I told him I wasn’t for sale and sent him away! And I’ve been awake all night staring at my ceiling, wondering if I made a massive mistake!”

Zoe reached into her oversized tote bag and pulled out a gold-ribboned rectangular box.

”I kept the chocolate, though,” Zoe mumbled. ”He brought the viral pistachio Dubai chocolate too. Who willingly gives up Dubai chocolate?”

Aria let out a loud laugh. ”Nobody. Morals do not apply to imported pistachio cream. You made the right call.”

”But what do I do?!” Zoe wailed, looking genuinely distressed. ”My chest hurts. I feel sick. I think I actually like him, Aria. And it’s terrifying.”

Aria’s expression softened into one of older-sisterly pity.

”Zoe, listen to me,” Aria said gently. ”The only mistake you made in this entire situation was sleeping with him in the first place.”

Zoe froze.

”I don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself,” Aria sighed, shaking her head in profound disappointment. ”You are so smart, and yet you let these toxic walking red flags drag you down. First Kai Vane, and now this random loser.”

The silence that fell over the room was absolute.

Zoe stopped breathing. A violent, catastrophic flush of crimson flooded her cheeks, spreading rapidly down her neck. She stared at Aria with eyes the size of dinner plates.

”I... I didn’t...” Zoe stuttered, her voice pitching up three octaves. ”I didn’t sleep with Kai Vane!”

Aria rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck in the back of her head.

”Zoe, please,” Aria scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. ”I am not an idiot. I know you two hooked up.”

Zoe swallowed dryly, a bead of nervous sweat rolling down her temple. She opened her mouth to confess—to tell her best friend that the ’random loser’ currently trying to buy her affection with Birkins was, in fact, Kai Vane.

But looking at Aria’s highly judgmental, unimpressed expression, Zoe simply didn’t have the guts.

”Right,” Zoe squeaked, abandoning the truth completely. ”Yeah. Just... random losers. So... what should I do about the... current loser?”

”It’s simple,” Aria stated confidently. ”You need to cleanse your palate. The easiest and quickest way to get over a toxic ex is to get under a stable man.”

Zoe blinked. ”You want me to rebound?”

”I want you to reset your mindset,” Aria corrected. ”You need someone boring. Someone safe. Someone with a 401k, a clean criminal record, and a predictable schedule. You go on one nice, boring date, realize that stability is actually great, and you forget all about Mr. Birkin.”

Right on cue, the glass door clicked open.

Dr. Elias Thorne walked into the room.

He was wearing his crisp white lab coat over a slightly wrinkled dress shirt. He was holding a medical clipboard, staring blankly at the charts, looking like a man who hadn’t slept a full eight hours since medical school. The sheer exhaustion radiating from him was palpable.

Aria paused.

She looked at Elias. She looked at Zoe.

A slow, predatory, matchmaking gleam ignited in Aria’s emerald eyes.

”Elias,” Aria called out brightly, stopping the doctor in his tracks before he could even reach the foot of the bed.

Elias looked up, blinking owlishly behind his glasses. ”Yes, Mrs. Sinclair? Are you experiencing any pain? Nausea?”

”No, I feel fantastic,” Aria smiled, her voice dripping with dangerous sweetness. ”Quick question, though. Do you have a girlfriend?”