My Husband Chose His Ex’s Kids Over Me and Ours

Zara's POV

I'd been unconscious for a long time.

My mind drifted in a fog. Through the haze, fragments of the past surfaced like scattered reflections in a still pool of water.

I first met Trevor at the solo concert of the renowned musician James Kingston in the capital. That night, celebrities and elites from every field gathered to show their support.

At the time, the Langford Group was a small, struggling company.

My father could only afford a pair of seats tucked in the quietest corner of the auditorium. Naturally, the prestigious Gibson family sat front row center.

After the concert ended, Trevor was invited onstage for a surprise performance. Under the spotlight, dressed in crisp white, he stood tall and composed, refined, elegant, every bit the gentleman. He looked like he'd stepped out of a dream. Then he lifted the violin to his chin.

The melody he played flowed like a spring river—gentle, graceful, captivating. The entire audience was entranced.

At the age of eighteen, I deeply fell for him.

I asked around tirelessly until I got his contact information. But Trevor was cold and distant from the start, while I chased him with everything I had.

I immersed myself in music and studied under Sir James Kingston, all in the hope of finding something in common with Trevor—something to discuss.

I'd heard the rumors. He had a complicated first love, and it was a messy one.

Still, I chased him for four years with no results.

Just when I was about to give up, Trevor suddenly confessed to me.

It was a snowy Christmas Eve. He called me and told me to meet him somewhere.

The garden was glowing with decorations and warm light strung through the trees.

In the center stood a lush Christmas tree, and beneath it were twenty-two wrapped presents in different shapes and sizes.

"Zara," he said, "I wasn't there for the first twenty-two years of your life. But I don't want to miss a single year from now on."

Then Trevor knelt and offered a bouquet of winter roses, speaking sincerely, "Here. For you, Zara."

His eyes sparkled, clear and dazzling.

I brushed the snow off his shoulders and nodded, my tears sliding silently down my cheeks.

He lifted me into his arms and spun me in the air like a scene from a fairytale.

Not long after, we were married.

"I vow to be with Zara, never parting for life. And you, Zara?"

"Zara…" His voice had been so full of promise back then.

Then, I slowly opened my eyes.

"Zara, you're finally awake."

That familiar voice reached my ears.

Trevor...

So that voice hadn't been part of a dream. He was right beside me, holding my hand tightly. His eyes were red at the corners, like he hadn't slept.

"You're finally awake. I was so worried, Zara," my mom said, rushing toward me.

As tears brimmed in her eyes, she began explaining what had happened.

Apparently, I had collapsed in the mud last night from exhaustion during the storm. The rain had been relentless, so my mom had called Ethan for help. But before he could arrive, Trevor had pulled up in his car and carried me into it.

"You kept murmuring Katie's name the whole way," my mom added gently. "Luckily, Trevor arrived in time. He thought it best to take you back to the Gibson Manor to rest before deciding anything else."

She gave Trevor a cautious once-over, then offered a slight nod. Trevor just said it was the least he could do.

I noticed his hands were dirt-stained and rough.

My brow knitted slightly. I opened my mouth to ask about Katie, but before I could get the words out, Yvonne came rushing in.

After a brief check on me, she turned to my mom with a friendly, practiced smile.

"Don't worry, in-law. I've always treated Zara like my own daughter. I would never mistreat her."

My mom offered her a polite nod, nothing more. But she caught the undercurrent and sensed what wasn't being said.

She leaned in, patted my hand, and whispered, "Ethan's already drafted the divorce papers. Don't worry, Zara. I'll take care of everything."

Then she left.

The moment the front door closed behind her, Yvonne dropped the act.

"If you're feeling better, come help with Nicole and Caden. I can't handle both kids on my own."

Then her phone rang. She looked at the screen, perked up, and rushed out, probably to meet her socialite friends.

The house fell silent.

Trevor had brought me back last night, but I hadn't forgotten the reason I collapsed in the first place. I'd been out searching for Katie in the storm. And no matter what he did now, I couldn't forgive him.

Suddenly, Caden's cry pierced the quiet. Trevor stepped over, picked him up gently, and rocked him with practiced ease.

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Daddy's here." His tone was soft and calming.

Only after the baby had settled did he finally speak to me.

"You didn't tell Mom anything, right?" His voice was even, slow. "Think of last night as repayment for keeping quiet. I don't need more people knowing about Brianna."

The faint smile on his lips faded. His face turned blank.

So that was it.

I'd thought, for a moment, that he came out in the storm because he was worried about me.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, eyes narrowing.

Before he could answer, Brianna's lazy voice rang out from the master bedroom.

"Trevor? Trevor, are you there?"

She stepped into view wearing a silk nightgown and Trevor's most expensive blazer draped around her shoulders.

When Brianna saw him, she said with a syrupy tone, "I slept like a baby last night, Trevor. But I had a nightmare this morning and woke up to find you gone."

She stretched like a spoiled cat and curled into his arms, purring.

I stayed silent, sharply contrasting with her flushed cheeks.

God, she was glowing while I sat there looking hollow.

Then, as if remembering I was still in the room, Brianna gave me a flippant, sugary smile.

"Zara, don't be so dramatic. Trevor and I already talked it over. Nicole and Caden are your kids now. They'll call you godmother."

She adjusted the blazer, 'accidentally' revealing a hickey on her collarbone.

"Trevor worked so hard yesterday and ran out into that storm just to get me some things," she added with a blissful sigh.

Trevor didn't answer.

Instead, he kissed her. Deep and slow.

Watching them made my skin crawl. A cold sensation spread down my spine like frost, as if I had fallen into a frozen lake.

Trevor used to say he hated physical closeness, especially when sleeping.

After I gave birth to Katie, he barely touched me at all.

Now I knew why. He just didn't want to be close to me.

A bitter laugh escaped my throat.

Of course, he hadn't gone out for my sake.

That delicate nightgown Brianna wore was clearly custom-made. He must have left just to pick it up, and only happened to overhear my mom's cries.

Caden started crying again, clearly interrupting their moment.

Neither of them moved.

Instead, Trevor handed the baby to me. "Caden likes lullabies. Sing to him."

Then, without a second glance, he scooped Brianna into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom.

"Sorry to trouble you with the baby," Brianna called sweetly over his shoulder. "After Trevor left last night, I tidied up the messy room a bit. So you don't have to clean today."

The door closed behind them.

I sat there, dazed, the baby sobbing in my arms.

All of my things—everything—had already been cleared out by Trevor.

What exactly had Brianna cleaned?

A strange unease gripped me.

Setting the baby down carefully, I rushed to the trash can by the door. I began tearing through it, my hands shaking.

After a few minutes of frantic searching, I found them.

Not just my shredded clothes. But every single photo I had with Katie.

Her letters. Her handmade gifts.

All of them were tossed like garbage.

Ignoring the glass shards, I pulled the pieces out one by one.

At the very bottom, something caught my eye. It was Katie's card for me on Mother's Day.

I reached for it, but the wrapping around broken glass slipped loose, and a shard sliced into my arm.

Blood spilled down my wrist as I held the card tight.

Pain surged through me, but I didn't let go. I curled up on the floor, breathing shallowly.

Outside the window, I caught a glimpse of the garden. Nicole stood there, sniffing the sunflowers delicately.

The ground beneath them had been freshly turned.

The soil... it looked familiar.

Trevor had planted those flowers. I remembered when Katie asked him to plant flowers with her. He refused and said the dirt was filthy.

But for Brianna's child?

Trevor could dig, plant, and do whatever it took to get the job done.

Clutching my bleeding arm, fury surged through me.

I stormed toward the bedroom.

I was done staying silent.

"That child is dead. Keeping her stuff is just bad luck for the other two," Brianna said flatly, like she was tossing out spoiled milk.

As if Katie had never mattered at all.