He Took Me for Granted, Now He's on His Knees

Naomi's POV

"Uncle, between me and Sis Naomi, who do you like more?"

So she knew about me. My chest tightened with rage, my lips curling into a bitter smile. I let go of the doorknob, waiting to hear how Wilbur would respond.

But it seemed like he didn't want to answer until Roxanne pressed again. "I remember Sis Naomi being pretty conservative. Is she as wild in bed as she acts all proper?"

At this moment, Wilbur’s breathing turned heavy. "That's not something you should be asking," he snapped.

Roxanne fell silent momentarily before whining, "Why are you being so mean to me?"

After a beat, his voice dropped into a cold, hard tone. "You don’t get to mention her name. Know your place. Understand?"

With a dissatisfied tone, she could only reply, "Ugh, fine. Just don’t stop."

My blood boiled and my hands trembled as I reached for the door—only to find it locked from the inside.

The inside suddenly fell quiet.

They had heard me.

"Who's out there?" Wilbur asked in a hoarse voice.

"Probably just a rat," Roxanne giggled. "This place hasn’t been cleaned in forever."

"Unless..." She laughed again, sharp and grating. "Could it be Sis Naomi?"

"It’s me," I said coldly from outside, which made her laughter cut off immediately.

Maybe my voice sounded raw from crying, or maybe they were simply guilty. Either way, the room fell into an eerie stillness.

After what felt like forever, the door finally creaked open.

Wilbur stood there, shirt rumpled, acting like nothing was wrong. He even smiled. "Naomi? What are you doing here?"

I looked him in the eye, my own rimmed red. Forcing a smirk, I said, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? Didn’t you say you’d be staying with your parents tonight? What’s wrong, is she your mom now?" I shot back, pointing at Roxanne, who was clutching the hem of his shirt behind him.

That’s when I finally saw her face—young, maybe in her early twenties, still carrying traces of childish innocence. Yet here she was, clinging onto the man I’d loved for six years.

Something inside me shattered.

Wilbur’s eyes were red too, and he grabbed my wrist. "Naomi, I’m sorry. Please, just give me a chance to explain."

I glanced at the faint love bites on Roxanne’s neck and let out a low chuckle. "Oh? Go ahead. I’d love to hear what kind of excuse you’ll come up with."

Sensing his distress, Roxanne rolled her eyes but quickly masked it with a sweet smile. She then took my arm and cooed, "Sis Naomi—oh wait, should I call you Auntie instead?"

Auntie? Just a second ago, she was calling me "Sis," and now she suddenly remembered my position in Wilbur's life?

Her voice dripped with innocence as she explained, "The thing is—I had a little too much to drink at a company party tonight, and I just happened to run into Uncle Wilbur on the way home. He was just being a gentleman and brought me here to rest. Auntie, I only just found out this used to be the place you two stayed. I’m really sorry about that."

But her apology wasn’t what made my stomach turn—it was the mocking glint in her eyes.

Like this was all just a game to her. Like cheating was nothing out of the ordinary.

Meanwhile, Wilbur nodded frantically, his gaze never leaving mine. "Naomi, we’ve been together for so many years. You know the kind of person I am. And Roxanne—she’s so much younger than me. She used to call me ‘Uncle’ growing up! How could I possibly—"

"Wilbur!" I cut him off, voice shaking with rage. "I stood outside that door for thirty goddamn minutes. Do you seriously think I didn’t hear everything?!"

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I had no more tears left to cry.

I exhaled sharply, my voice ice-cold. "We're done, Wilbur. Before tonight, I saw you as the most important person in my life. But what about you?"