His Little Bird

Wife Not the Wife

Ethan's POV

I feel like such a fool.

I don't know why I had thought that Weston's sunglasses had been mine. I wasn't even wearing sunglasses yesterday, so it made no sense for me to not realize that the sunglasses I had grabbed off the cafe table after he left had been mine.

I pull up in front of his house.

Nice neighborhood.

I wonder if Birdie lives in a similar one. I know I am not her Dom, but the prospect alone makes me go mad at the idea that she could be living in a dangerous area, or in a dirty broken down home.

418

That was the address that he gave me yesterday to mail him a copy of my proof of ownership on my house.

I don't think either of us anticipated me needing to be here.

I hope he does not think it rude that I showed up unannounced on a Saturday to drop off his sunglasses, but I had been driving back from work when I realized the sunglasses were not mine.

I walk up to the house, glasses in one hand and the original copy of proof of ownership on my house. It is probably better to not make a copy of this anyways.

I knock on the door before take a step back. I want to put my hands in my pockets, but the items in my hand make it impossible.

Sigh...

I roll my head, my neck aching from me bending over my desk all day, trying to get ahead of work. If I had a submissive I would never think of going to work on a Saturday, but as I have no one, so I have nothing better to do.

A feminine voice echos inside the house, Weston's wife I am sure. "I've got it," she says as she opens the door. I smile politely, my attention dropped to the child on her hip.

"I'm sorry for interrupting your evening, Ms Astor. Is your husband around?" I inquire, finally looking up at her.

A look of confusion crosses over her face and I start to panic, thinking I have the wrong address.

"Who are you?" She asks bluntly and my brows raise in surprise. I guess I should expect nothing less when I show up unannounced.

"I apologize. I know I am here unannounced I just wanted to return your husband's sun glasses. He left them at the cafe yesterday-" Her eyes go wide and she looks like a dear caught in headlights.

I wonder what is wrong before everything seems to click, "Birdie, who is at the door?" Weston inquires, coming up behind her and opening the door all the way.

My gaze drops to the mysterious Birdie.

"Oh," Weston says, seeming to take in the situation.

I clear my throat and shift uncomfortably, feeling incredibly unprepared. I feel like I should have brought flowers instead of sunglasses.

"I apologize. I hadn't meant to show up unannounced, you just had forgotten your sunglasses yesterday and I wanted to return them," I reply, forcing myself to stop staring at Birdie.

The child in Birdie's arms squirms and she sets her down, silently excusing herself, leaving me and Weston alone.

If Weston is upset, he does not show it.

I wish that Weston had shown me a photo of her, so that I would not have presumed for her to be his wife.

"So I guess you have met Birdie then," Weston says, deciding to just roll with the conversation.