Marrying My Divorced Husband's Uncle as Revenge

When I returned home, the silence pressed in on me. The house felt cold, hollow—haunted by the ghost of Allen’s laughter. His toys lay scattered in the corner, untouched since I’d left with him for Disneyland. Every step I took felt heavy, each room a reminder of his presence and now, his absence.

As I stood in the doorway, numb and exhausted, headlights swept across the driveway. I turned to see Brendon’s car pull up. I didn’t move, watching as he got out, and my heart sank as he lifted Karylle from the passenger seat. She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder as he carried her inside.

They didn’t notice me standing there, not until I spoke.

"Brendon," I said, my voice low, trembling. "Where were you last night?”

He turned to me, his face blank. “Jasmine, I’m not doing this right now.”

I stepped closer, forcing myself to look at him. “I called you. Allen wanted you there. He wanted his father.”

Brendon looked annoyed, not remorseful. “I was busy. You could have handled it. We can always reschedule the trip, Jasmine. Disneyland isn’t going anywhere.”

“Reschedule?” The word fell like a stone between us. I couldn’t believe he’d said it. He didn’t know, didn’t care that Allen’s last wish had gone unfulfilled, that he’d died waiting for his father.

I slapped Brendon, the sharp sound echoing in the room. He staggered, nearly dropping Karylle, and she gasped, clinging to him as if terrified she might fall.

Brendon’s eyes blazed. “What the hell, Jasmine? You could’ve hurt her!”

He didn’t wait for my answer, instead turning his back on me to gently help Karylle onto the couch, his voice soft as he murmured to her. My vision blurred with rage, my hands trembling as I watched him comfort her.

“Of course,” I said, my voice low and bitter. “She’s all you care about, isn’t she?”

Karylle looked up, her lips curling with a smug smile. “Grow up, Jasmine. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

Her words hit hard, making my chest feel tight. I glared at her, something inside me finally snapping. Before I could even think, I stepped forward, locking eyes with her smug expression. “Making a fool of myself?” I hissed. “You walk in here with him and think you can talk to me like that?”

Karylle raised an eyebrow, totally unfazed, and shifted on the couch like I was the one inconveniencing her. “Yes, Jasmine,” she replied, her voice calm, like she was addressing a child. “It’s pathetic. Brendon is just helping me and you’re acting jealous. He doesn’t even love you so why would you?”

Those words did it. Without thinking, I stepped forward and shoved her, hard enough to send her sprawling onto the floor. She gasped, looking up at me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Brendon snapped, dropping to her side, eyes blazing as he stared me down, practically shielding her with his body, like I was some threat.

“Maybe you should ask yourself that, Brendon,” I said, my voice steady, each word dripping with the bitterness that had been building inside me for years.

Karylle, still on the floor, turned her teary gaze up to him, her voice breaking. “Brendon… I don’t feel safe here,” she whimpered, reaching for his arm, playing the part of the victim like she’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

Brendon’s anger softened as he looked at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his whole focus now on her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured gently, each word cutting me like a blade. “I won’t let her do that again.”

I watched him comfort her, and right then, I felt the last bit of my life with him collapse. It hit me, painfully clear—I was truly and completely alone.