I Married My Ex-Husband’s Uncle While He Was Comatose

When we arrived at the venue, Loren was already there. Her light yellow dress made her stand out like a spotlight in the crowd.

The moment Arthur saw her, his previously cold expression softened noticeably. From the moment we walked in, I could feel his gaze glued to her—he didn’t even bother hiding it.

“Sister!” Loren beamed and ran over. “I’m so happy to see you here!”

She leaned in and kissed Arthur lightly on the cheek. His ears flushed red on contact.

Then she reached out to touch me.

I blocked her with the file in my hand. “No need.”

Her smile froze midair, her eyes welling up, but she quickly straightened, forcing a brave little grin. “When I’m fully recovered, maybe you won’t hate me so much. I’ll do everything I can—”

Arthur’s face darkened slightly. His eyes finally shifted to me—not with concern, but with irritation.

I didn’t have time for this performance. My focus was on the upcoming partnership meeting. But Loren giggled softly and playfully tapped Arthur’s chest with both hands.

“Arthur, I heard that last time I had an episode at the hospital, I really wanted pickled fried radish. You and Abraham waited two hours in the snow just to get it for me and bring it to my ward? That’s so sweet... I was in a coma then, and I’ve been recovering, so I never got the chance to say thank you.”

Arthur’s expression melted. “We’re family. It was nothing.”

Family? What a joke.

That day, I was writhing in pain at home from a stomach infection, barely able to stand. He left with Abraham for three hours, claiming he had to attend a father-son event.

Turns out, their little “family” event was for Loren.

“Then I owe you and Abraham a big dinner,” Loren said in a coy, sugary voice.

Arthur didn’t decline. A faint smile curved his lips. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“And of course your sister should come too,” Loren added sweetly. “We all live nearby, don’t we?” Her tone was gentle, but her eyes gleamed with challenge when they landed on me. “Sister, why do you look so tired? I’m the one who's been sick for years, remember?”

I had no interest in this game. “Just focus on taking care of yourself. Stop worrying about others. Maybe if you stopped thinking so much, you wouldn’t be so anemic.”

Her expression faltered before she quickly masked it with a smile. Arthur’s brow furrowed, deeper this time, but he said nothing.

Thankfully, the host announced the start of the seminar, bringing a welcome end to this farce. I walked straight to my seat. One more second around them, and I would’ve thrown up.

I’d be getting married in Hawaii soon. It was likely I wouldn’t be able to continue my research after that. This seminar was important—not just for the institute, but for me. I needed to secure a strong partnership for the team and close the chapter on the years I’d poured into this work.

I had once been accepted to a top-tier medical university. But because it was over a thousand kilometers from home—and I wouldn’t be nearby to donate blood to Loren—my parents altered my application behind my back and forced me into a local nursing program.

They chose nursing not for my future, but because it would help me “take better care of Loren.”

When I resisted, they cut off all financial support. I worked part-time jobs to survive, finally got into graduate school, and chose the major I really wanted. But I got pregnant shortly after, and again, everything was put on hold.

To help Arthur’s research, I even volunteered to be a test subject. It wasn’t until earlier this year that I was finally invited to join this research team. I treasured the opportunity.

I had prepared meticulously for this seminar. I could confidently back up every point with research and evidence.

Loren, on the other hand, with her so-called prestigious education, said almost nothing. Her silence was telling.

When Sterling Company expressed strong interest in collaborating with our team, her face visibly darkened.

“Sister, do you even have the credentials to say that?” Loren finally snapped. “You studied nursing, didn’t you? If you make a mistake, the consequences could be serious.”

I didn’t even bother to look at her. I calmly continued presenting the project and fielding questions from industry professionals, winning nods and applause across the room.

“Professor Steele’s team has a sharp vision and offers truly innovative ideas for drug applications,” an elderly expert praised warmly.

Meanwhile, Loren’s presentation quickly unraveled under scrutiny. A few targeted questions left her floundering. Her expression turned pale as she fumbled with her notes.

“Uh… our data is still being compiled…” she stammered, beads of sweat forming on her brow.

I smiled faintly. I knew exactly how little this “sister” of mine was worth.

Her education had been bought. She couldn’t conduct research if her life depended on it. She’d just heard that healthcare was profitable lately and thought she could ride the wave.

Her company was notorious in the industry for being all talk and no substance—flashy presentations, but no deliverables.

Just then, a man in a tailored suit walked into the center of the venue and made a bold announcement:

“Professor Steele’s project—The Slater Family is investing 500 million.”