Forbidden Desires: The Neighbour Next Door

Whispers of a Hidden Future

Ethan slipped seamlessly back into his role as the ever-loving husband to Sarah. From the outside, everything appeared the same—he was attentive, caring, and doted on her as always. Their life continued like clockwork, with Sarah blissfully unaware of the secrets her husband was keeping. She had no idea what was happening when she left the house for her meetings or when Ethan was supposedly tutoring Chloe. The truth was far more complicated, far more tangled in desire and deceit.

Behind the facade, Ethan's thoughts were constantly on Isabelle. The moments he could steal away to be with her became the focal point of his day. Chloe's tuition had become the perfect excuse to slip out unnoticed, leaving Sarah none the wiser. He spent every possible moment with Isabelle, whispering promises, pressing his lips to her skin, and planning their future together.

Isabelle, however, was growing restless. She had thought she could bear it, this clandestine affair, but every time she saw Sarah in public with Ethan, the jealousy gnawed at her. Sarah would take Ethan's arm in front of everyone, smiling radiantly as though she had no worries in the world, as though her husband weren't secretly slipping away to be with another woman.

"Ethan," Isabelle said one afternoon, her voice tight with frustration as they lay together in the small flat he'd rented for their secret meetings. "I can't stand it anymore."

He looked at her, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?"

"This," she gestured around the room. "Us, hiding. I see you with Sarah in public, and it's unbearable. She acts like she owns you—because she does. How can you stand it, pretending nothing's changed?"

Ethan knew this conversation was coming. Isabelle had been patient, but he could see the cracks forming. Her jealousy was something he could understand—after all, he had encouraged this connection between them. But Sarah? Sarah was a complication he hadn't quite figured out how to manage yet.

"Isabelle, love," he said softly, reaching out to place a hand over her belly. "The right time will come, I promise. You just have to trust me. I'll speak to Sarah when it's necessary, but right now... right now, nothing is more important than this—" his hand pressed gently against her stomach, "—than what we're sharing."

Isabelle's frustration softened slightly as she looked down at his hand on her belly, the gesture reminding her of their deeper purpose. But still, the sting of jealousy was hard to shake.

"And what if she never leaves you? What if she finds out before you tell her?" Isabelle's voice quivered with uncertainty.

Ethan leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. "She won't find out. I won't let that happen. You know I love you, Isabelle. I love *us*. What we're doing, it's more important than anything else. You'll see."

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to believe him at that moment. She had to believe him. She had already come this far, given him everything, and now, with the days ticking by, she felt the weight of their future pressing down on her.

Ethan pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "You and me, Isabelle. We'll have our time."

As the weeks passed, Isabelle tried to push away the bitterness that flared up every time she saw Sarah. She clung to Ethan's words, to the promises he made when they were alone, to the tender way he touched her when his hands would rest over her stomach, as if already willing life into existence.

Then, one evening, Ethan noticed something that made his heart leap. Isabelle was quiet, more so than usual. They were sitting together on the sofa in their secret flat, her head resting on his shoulder when he glanced down at her and realised something had shifted.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his fingers playing absentmindedly with a lock of her hair.

Isabelle hesitated, biting her lip before turning to look at him. "Ethan... I think... I think I've missed my period."

The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with meaning.

Ethan's breath caught in his throat. "Are you sure?"

Isabelle nodded slowly, her hand drifting down to rest on her stomach. "I don't know for certain yet, but... it's late. And it's never late."

A slow, ecstatic smile spread across Ethan's face. His hand joined hers, resting against her belly as if the life they had been waiting for was already growing there. "Isabelle," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "This could be it."

She looked up at him, her own excitement tempered with uncertainty. "Do you think so?"

"I know so," Ethan said, his voice brimming with confidence. "I told you, didn't I? This was always going to happen. You're going to carry my child. I can feel it."

His enthusiasm was infectious, and for the first time in weeks, Isabelle felt her jealousy and frustration begin to fade. This—this was what they had been working towards, what she had been sacrificing for. The thought of having Ethan's child, of carrying their secret into the future, filled her with a warmth she hadn't known before.

"We need to be sure," she said, though her voice trembled with hope.

"I'll get a test," Ethan replied quickly. "Tomorrow. And then we'll know. But Isabelle... I already know. I can feel it. You're going to be the mother of my child."

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her with a passion that had been building inside him for weeks. Isabelle melted into him, her heart swelling with the possibility of what was to come. All the jealousy, all the uncertainty—none of it mattered anymore. This was the moment that would change everything.

And Ethan, for all his outward calm, could hardly contain his excitement. The idea that Isabelle might finally be pregnant, that his long-held desire for an heir was finally becoming a reality, consumed him. He kissed her again, his hands roaming over her body, his mind already racing ahead to what the future would hold.

"When Sarah comes back," he murmured between kisses, "I'll tell her everything. But not yet. Not until we're sure. This... this is what's most important now."

Isabelle nodded, her heart racing as she allowed herself to believe in their future. She placed her hand over his on her belly, feeling the warmth of his skin against hers, the shared promise of the life they hoped was already growing inside her. They lay together that night, their hands entwined over her belly.

"I believe you," she whispered. "I believe in us."