My Frigid Wife Melts in My Brother's Arms

I tried using my fingerprint to open the door, but, just like always, it was locked from the inside. I couldn't get in.

After making more than a dozen calls, Tara finally opened the door. Her face was contorted with irritation.

"Why are you in such a hurry? Can't you see I'm swamped in here? Every time you come home, you act like the king of the place. Is this your home or a hotel?

Jack peeked out from behind her. "Ryder, this is on you. Men should recognize and appreciate the effort their wives put in, or they'll end up as lonely old bachelors."

Tara gave him a shy glance.

I had only wanted to get inside when I found the door locked. But before I could speak, I was already met with a flood of accusations.

I had reminded Tara that our neighborhood was safe. There was no reason to keep the door locked all the time.

But she had immediately shot back, saying, "My children are my whole world. If anything happened to them, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

Looking back now, she was probably afraid I'd come home early and catch them in the act.

Noticing her slightly disheveled hair and flushed lips, I suddenly realized how obvious the signs had been. It was a shame I had never suspected a thing.

After all, Jack and I had always had each other's backs since we were young. Even when I had doubts about my partner, he was the one person I never questioned.

I never imagined that the two of them would team up to deliver such a crushing blow.

Dinner time soon arrived. As usual, the three kids clung to Jack, begging him to play short videos. They liked scrolling on their phones while eating—something I had always forbidden.

I couldn't stay silent. "Enough! Looking at your phone during mealtime will hurt your eyes. Henry, go bring your brother and sister back to the table."

My oldest son, Henry Kessler, hugged Jack even tighter. "No! I want to sit with Uncle Jack."

Jack placed his phone in front of him and smiled at me. "Ryder, kids are meant to be spoiled. Why are you being so strict?"

The three little ones were thrilled. "Thank you, Uncle Jack," they murmured sweetly.

Jack gave each of their cheeks a playful pinch. "If I'm being this generous, you shouldn't be calling me 'Uncle Jack.' Call me 'Dad.' Say it with me… Dad… Dad…"

Carrying a pot of soup, Tara shot him a pointed look. "Don't be ridiculous," she snapped.

Jack remained unfazed. "What's the big deal? We men just enjoy taking on the 'dad' role. Ryder gets it, doesn't he?"

Of course I did.

Whenever Jack had the kids call him "Dad", I would tease him for wanting to be a father and urged him to have one of his own.

I never imagined that I was the fool all along. Jack was already a father, not to one, but to three children.

This time, I didn't let things slide. With a frown, I snapped, "Do you think it's acceptable to make jokes like this? Do you even know what proper conduct and moral principles are? If you want to be a dad, then go find yourself a wife…"

Stop spending all your time lusting after someone else's.

It was the first time I'd lost my temper in front of Jack. He looked genuinely startled.

But before I could finish speaking, Tara slammed the pot of soup onto the floor with a loud bang.

Her voice was firm and unyielding. "Ryder, can you leave your work frustrations at the office? No one here is required to put up with your bad mood."

With that, she led Jack and the three children into the playroom.

Turning to me, she threw out one final line, "Until you acknowledge your wrongdoing and apologize, you have no right to speak to us."

Just a door away, their laughter and joyful voices spilled out. It almost felt like they were a real family.

Outside, cups and plates lay strewn across the floor. The lone figure reflected in the window looked utterly pitiful.

Every argument ended the same way. I had pampered Tara far too much. Only when I bent over backward to appease her would she grudgingly forgive me.

But what had I really gained all these years? Tara didn't just betray me repeatedly—she had three children that weren't mine and carried on her affair in our house.

I hadn't yet decided what I would do. Little did I know, they had already made the choice for me.

One evening, I forgot to drink the warm milk Tara had given me and quietly poured it down the bathroom drain.

That same night, Jack entered Tara's room.

After a while, I decided to check the security footage. With her hand pressed to her mouth, Tara started gagging.

When I returned home that night, she spoke sharply, "Henry's asking for a little sister again. I'll be in your room tonight."

My entire body trembled with rage. I knew Tara was pregnant. Once again, she was scheming to have her child with Jack legally registered under my name.

When she was carrying their third child, Morgan Kessler, she had acted exactly the same.

Once it was over, she had pushed me off the bed and forbade me from coming near her.

Did she really think I would fall for that trick a second time?

I wiped my mouth with a napkin. "It's fine. We already have enough children."

For the sake of her unborn baby, I had expected Tara to humble herself and try to appease me.

But having grown used to bossing me around, it seemed impossible that she and Jack would ever show me the slightest respect.

Still, I never could have imagined they'd go so far as to drug my soup.

As Tara lunged to rip my clothes off, Jack stood silently by the bed.