My Wife Caught Me With Her 18-Year-Old Self

When Selena Sloane takes her assistant, Preston Jones, to the hospital in order to get his lower back checked out, her 18-year-old self is in the middle of making out with me while having me pinned against the wall.

"Darling, how is it that you smell so good and your kisses are still this amazing despite being 30 years old? Oh, I love you so much, darling!

"By the way, where did my 30-year-old self go? Why isn't she here to pick you up after work?"

I push Young Selena off me sadly. That's when I happen to meet the 30-year-old Selena's icy gaze.

"You already have a mistress of your own, and yet you still can't bear to get a divorce from me, hmm? Zack Holt, you really are pathetic."

As I watch the older Selena supporting Preston and walking away, the younger Selena starts kicking up a fuss in my arms once again.

"That idiot! How dare she speak to my darling so arrogantly? Why, I might as well kill myself right now so that she'll disappear from this world as well!"

Zack's POV

18-year-old Selena Sloane was exactly as I remembered her. She was proud, imperious, and nearly impossible to appease once she threw a tantrum.

It wasn't until I pulled out the romance novels I kept stashed in my drawer that she finally settled down. I locked her in the office and headed downstairs to buy some dinner.

The moment I reached the fast food restaurant, a chilling voice sounded behind me.

"28 minutes."

I froze and turned to face the cold expression of 30-year-old Selena.

"Why are you still here? Didn't you leave with Preston?"

Selena ignored my question, staring at me coldly. "Stop playing dumb. You and that little lady stayed alone in the office for a full 28 minutes."

Her last few words came out through gritted teeth.

"What's wrong? Found yourself a younger one, but can't keep up stamina-wise? When you were Preston's age, you could go at least 40 minutes."

God, you'd need a twisted, vicious mind to even understand what she was implying.

I stared at her, speechless, too embarrassed to tell her that girl was actually her 18-year-old self. I simply turned to order food.

"One cajun chicken sandwich, no pickles. Side salad, clam chowder, and the BBQ ribs."

She sneered again from behind. "Everything you ordered is what I like, Zack. Are you not even trying to cater to your little lover's tastes? Or is she just some toy for when you're bored, not the confirmed replacement?"

As I listened to her barbed mockery, irritation surged through me. "Selena, not everyone is like you. Not everyone lines up the next one before the marriage is even over."

She choked abruptly, instinctively opening her mouth. "I already told you I didn't—"

"You brought him to the hospital and made an appointment with me specifically. Don't tell me it wasn't deliberate." I cut her off coldly, grabbing the packed meal boxes.

"Congratulations. You've managed to disgust me again. I agree to the divorce. I'll see you Monday at the courthouse. Don't be late."

Without waiting for her reaction, I walked straight past her and left the restaurant. The moment I pushed through the door, the icy winter evening wind hit my tear-stained face like a knife.

Just as I fumbled awkwardly to find some tissue to wipe my face, a cup of hot chocolate was placed in my hands. It was the kind I loved when I was a teenager.

"You little dummy, still so scatterbrained. Look at you crying from the cold, and you didn't even think to grab a jacket."

18-year-old Selena ruffled my hair and draped a jacket over my shoulders. That familiar scent of pine and the warmth momentarily left me dazed.

…

"So what you're saying is, the 30-year-old me got her wish and married you but didn't cherish it. And not only did I get involved with some male secretary who supposedly saved me, but I kept pushing you for a divorce?"

At home, the younger Selena still had barbecue sauce at the corner of her mouth, but her eyes were filled with horror.

"Why would I do something so stupid? Did I have a complete personality change or something?"