He Mistook Me for My Roommate, So I Called a Stranger Husband novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Hey Husband

June starts texting the stranger as her husband. He answers coldly and then in three seconds. Zara posts a Hamptons night. At 3 a.m. he saves her a seat.

Zara came out of the bathroom at nine that night, and I was in bed with the covers over my knees.

She curled up on her bunk and called Brett.

Her voice dropped into a soft, breathy tone that I'd never heard her use on anyone else.

"Hi, you," she said. "No, I'm not busy. I'm never busy for you."

I opened my messages and found the new contact.

Quincy VanHorne. I thought about it for a second, and I typed.

Hey husband, you awake?

I'd seen a TikTok that week. It said you should call a hot guy your husband for three months, until his subconscious gave up and agreed.

I didn't believe it, but I liked a cheap experiment.

Half an hour went by. Then three gray dots showed up, and went away, and showed up again.

Quincy: Wrong number?

Me: Right number. I'm talking to you.

Quincy: My name is Quincy. Not husband.

Me: Got it, Quincy husband.

Quincy: ...

I smiled at the ceiling.

He didn't text anything else, so I put the phone face down and went to sleep.

In the morning there was a coffee on my desk.

Zara stood next to it in her robe with her hair in a clip. "Oat milk, right? I remembered."

"Thanks," I said.

I had told her once, in October, that I drank oat milk. I didn't know she had been listening.

"You're so sweet to be nice about the whole thing," she said. "Brett feels awful. He keeps saying he wishes he'd met you properly first."

"He didn't need to meet me," I said. "He needed to check a handle."

Zara laughed and tilted her head.

Then she said, "You don't have to be brave, you just have to be on time. Isn't that a lovely thing to say to someone?"

I held the coffee still.

"Where did you hear that?" I asked.

"Brett says it all the time." She was already turning to the mirror. "Isn't he the best?"

I had written that sentence to Brett in March, at one in the morning, the night before his first lacrosse final.

I took a sip of the coffee.

"Lovely," I said.

I didn't say anything else. I didn't know yet what it meant, and I didn't want her to see me counting.

The next days went the way Zara's days always went.

Brett took her glamping upstate and to an escape room with a private chef. He took her to a rooftop dinner in SoHo.

Every night she came home and told the room how thoughtful he'd been. He had studied the photo spots, she said. He had made a playlist with every song she loved.

I sat at my desk with headphones on and listened to all of it.

Every plan was one I had drawn for him.

We'd spent three weeks in a shared Google Doc, building a list of places in the city that he thought we'd go to someday. I had put the glamping spot on page two. I had put the rooftop on page three, with a note about the best table.

I watched Zara post each one the same night, felt the jealousy sting, and put it away.

On Thursday she packed a small bag.

"The Hamptons," she told the room. "His family's house. I bought matching silk pajamas."

One roommate squealed. The other one looked straight at me and wiggled her eyebrows.

I looked back and went on reading.

At two in the morning Zara posted two silhouettes in front of a wall of ocean glass.

Under it she'd typed: New title unlocked. He loves me so fiercely.

The comments were hearts and flames.

I looked at the photo for a long minute.

Then I looked at the ceiling and made a plan.

I didn't have time for being sad. I signed up for a beginner's boxing class that met at six in the morning, and an editorial makeup masterclass on Tuesdays.

Roxie texted me the second I filled in the form.

Roxie: You are not going to the 6 a.m. class alone.

Me: I'm not?

Roxie: I'm your partner. I'll hit you gently. Or not.

Between classes I kept going with Quincy.

Good morning, husband. I'm headed to the law library. Want me to save you a seat?

Stop calling me that.

Husband, that new thriller opens at the IFC Center. Care to escort me?

No.

Did you eat? The chicken at the dining hall looks almost as edible as you.

Ate already.

His answers stayed short, but the time between them got shorter. They went from three hours to thirty minutes, and then, one Wednesday, to right away.

I started to wait for them.

I decided I didn't mind.

On Friday night I was in bed with my laptop open to my thesis outline when my phone lit up at 3:04.

Quincy: Are you awake?

I sat up.

Me: Husband? It's three a.m.

Quincy: I know what time it is.

Me: What's wrong?

The dots came and went twice.

Quincy: Library. Fourth floor. I saved you a seat.

← Chapter 1 · All chapters · Chapter 3 →

Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend