Married to a Man Who Loved My Stepsister

Justin kept glancing at his phone, brows furrowed.

I let out a bitter chuckle and asked again, “How do you think I did just now?”

Without even looking up, he replied absentmindedly, “Very good.”

When I didn’t respond, he finally looked up and noticed I hadn’t even aimed at the target. His expression turned awkward.

“Sorry, I got distracted.”

Just then, his phone rang. He quickly checked it, his face betraying a sense of urgency. Still, he tried to focus on the target. He fired three shots—none of them hit. In the past, Justin never missed.

“If you have something to do, go ahead. I want to stay and play a bit longer.”

He looked surprised but also slightly guilty. Softly, he said, “I’ll come back and keep you company once I’m done. Wait for me.”

I nodded and watched his figure rush away, eyes filled with mixed emotions.

I stayed at the range for another half hour before leaving. I knew the moment Selena showed up, Justin would forget all about me.

On my way back, a message popped up from Selena.

[See? Justin always chooses me, no matter what. What’s the point of being his wife if you’re unloved? You’re just like your mother—clinging to a position no one respects!]

I replied with trembling hands.

[Selena, your mother was a mistress. The whole world knows it. A mistress’s daughter is still just a mistress. Do you think there’s pride in that? You’re only after the things I’ve thrown away. What’s there to be proud of?]

After sending the message, I immediately blocked her.

That evening, Justin came home. Seeing me eating at the table, his body stiffened. Guilt flashed across his face.

“Thalia, I... I’m sorry. I was just really busy today...”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

After that, the room went cold and silent. Justin retreated into his study and we didn’t speak again that night.

***

The next day, Selena arrived at the house holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I saw how upset you were, so I came to apologize.”

I didn’t say a word and continued with my chores.

She didn’t seem bothered. She wandered around the room as if it were her own. Justin sat on the sofa, watching her with a troubled expression but doing nothing to stop her.

The study door was open and Selena walked in without hesitation. Alarmed, Justin called out, “You can’t go into the study!”

But Selena just stuck out her tongue at him playfully and continued inside. Justin quickly followed, visibly annoyed, yet he said nothing to make her leave.

I clenched the rag in my hand, trying to suppress the bitterness rising in my chest.

So it turned out, the study wasn’t off-limits to everyone—only to those he didn’t deem worthy. Only Selena was allowed in.

“Oh! Isn’t this the love letter you wrote me? There are so many! Why didn’t you ever give them to me?”

“And the thermos I gave you—you really kept it! If you like it that much, I’ll get you another one.”

“You still have the greeting card, the bookmark, the keychain I gave you, don’t you?”

Hearing Selena’s excited voice from the study, my heart sank completely.

I remembered the first time I entered this house. Justin had forbidden me from entering the study or touching anything inside.

He told me those items represented his youth—the most precious memories he had—gifts from old friends.

I believed him. But now, I realized everything in there was a shrine to his love for Selena.

Later, in an attempt to apologize, Selena invited me to go camping in the suburbs. Fearing I’d reject her, she even invited some of our classmates and my best friend.

We drove out to the countryside and started pitching tents. But midway through setting them up, dark clouds rolled in and it began pouring.

As the rain intensified, everyone rushed to get their tents up. Suddenly, Selena cried out in pain and collapsed onto the ground.

Justin’s body stiffened immediately. He glanced at her in panic, hastily finished setting up the tent, then turned to me.

“You go inside first. I’ll check on Selena.”

I held myself back but eventually couldn’t stay silent.

“Justin, could you at least pretend to care about me? She just fell. There are plenty of people here—why does it always have to be you?”