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

Zara's POV

Rage consumed me, blurring my vision. Then, I saw that the letters, photos, and keepsakes I'd rescued from the trash were covered in thick, red ink.

Enraged, I flung them straight into Brianna's face. She let out a sharp whimper, recoiling instantly.

I sneered and turned away, ready to clean the bleeding gashes on my arm, when Trevor, still lounging on the bed, suddenly reached out and grabbed my wrist.

"Stop!"

I tried to shake him off, unwilling to argue, but his grip only tightened.

"Brianna was just trying to help tidy up. Did you really have to take it that far?" His voice rose. "You cut her face with a glass? How cruel can you be?!"

I froze, stunned.

Looking back at Brianna, I finally saw it.

On her chin, a tiny, almost invisible cut bled a little from a shard of glass, likely wrapped in paper.

Meanwhile, my arm was bleeding profusely from being yanked so hard, and the blood was pooling on the floor. However, Trevor only noticed Brianna's minor injury.

"Apologize to Brianna," he demanded, his brow furrowed. "Or else…"

His voice grew cold, and the space between them grew further apart. Before I could speak, Brianna's sobs filled the room, swelling until they echoed through every hallway of the Gibson Manor.

"Trevor, it's my fault," she cried, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't have tried to help Zara. If she doesn't appreciate it, fine… but did she really have to humiliate me like this?"

Her crying grew louder, more theatrical, practically a performance.

Trevor looked at me, eyes full of disappointment and anger.

When I still didn't move, he pushed me down to my knees.

"Apologize!"

His hands pressed hard on my shoulders until I crumpled, forced to kneel in a puddle of my own blood. Then he turned his back on me, rushed to Brianna's side, and carefully dabbed her barely-there wound.

I knelt there, frozen in disbelief.

Never... not even in my worst nightmares did I imagine Trevor would one day make me kneel and apologize to another woman.

Back when we first got together, even the slightest disrespect toward me would set him off. Once, at a business gala, a major client tried to cozy up to me—touched my hand under the table. Trevor flipped the whole table in front of everyone and had the man blacklisted.

I heard later that the guy ended up with multiple fractures in his hand.

"Zara, trust me. I won't let anyone hurt you."

That promise now echoed in my mind like the cruelest joke.

As Trevor's fury finally cooled, I braced myself and pushed up from the floor.

But just then, Nicole, who had been hiding outside the room, suddenly rushed in.

Holding a garden trowel, she screamed, "Bad woman! Don't bully my mommy!"

Before I could react, she swung the iron spade at my back with all the strength her tiny body could muster.

It hit me square in the lower back. Pain exploded through my spine, and I collapsed with a cry, clutching my waist.

Trevor's expression darkened. A flicker of concern crossed his face.

Two years ago, while searching for Katie near the crash site that killed my father, I'd been in a car accident myself. My injuries were severe. My lower back was shattered. The doctors said I was lucky to survive. I spent six months in physical therapy just to learn how to walk again.

Initially, Trevor handled everything. He was gentle and caring, supporting me through every painful step. Soon after, work became his excuse, and he never came to the hospital again.

Just as he extended a hand, Nicole, radiating with pride, ran up, interrupting him.

"Daddy! Mommy! I stood up for you! I'm such a good girl, right?"

Trevor gave her a forced smile and patted her on the head.

My eyes welled up. And then I saw it, gleaming on Nicole's tiny wrist.

It was Katie's bracelet.

My breath caught.

"That's Katie's bracelet! Why is it on her wrist?"

"It's my birthday gift from Daddy and Mommy!" Nicole said proudly, lifting her arm so I could see.

My heart stopped.

Soon after Katie's birth, Trevor and I went to the capital's largest monastery to pray for her safety. The chief clergy blessed the bracelet himself, which we then brought home for Katie to wear, hoping it would always protect her.

When Katie disappeared, the only thing left behind was that bracelet. I was devastated. Trevor had accompanied me back to the monastery, and we returned with a new charm necklace.

If Nicole was wearing Katie's bracelet, then that necklace…

I looked toward Caden's crib, suddenly sure of what I'd find.

I remembered Katie smiling at me, her chubby wrist flashing that little green band.

I broke down, sobbing.

Trevor looked torn. He reached out again, hesitating, but then Brianna moaned from the bed.

"Trevor… I don't feel so good…"

Just like I expected, he scooped her up and rushed out the door, heading to the hospital for a full-body check-up.

Nicole trailed after them, chipper and clueless.

I sat there, alone again, clutching Katie's bracelet to my chest, barely holding myself together.

That's when my phone rang.

It was my mom.

"Zara, are you okay? Ethan is finished drafting the divorce papers. I'll bring them to you."

"No, Mom," I replied softly. "I'll go see Ethan myself. You just had heart bypass surgery. Please take care of yourself."

I ended the call before she could argue, wiping away my tears.

Then, a notification popped up.

Brianna had been added to the Gibson family's private group chat.

I checked it and noticed a sequence of cheerful messages—Brianna sending emojis to Trevor's parents, Yvonne also sharing photos, Trevor playing with the kids, making breakfast for Brianna, and serenading her under candlelight, resembling a perfect husband.

So Yvonne had known all along.

I scoffed bitterly and tapped into Brianna's profile. Her banner photo showed her in Trevor's arms, her eyes closed, smiling as if she'd already won.

A message popped up from Brianna.

It was a photo of Trevor at the hospital, fussing over her, fluffing her pillow.

"Do you believe me now? One word from me, and Trevor won't come home for three days."

Then, a message came through from Trevor himself.

[Sudden overtime at the office. Take good care of the kids.]

I stared at it for a moment and typed back.

[Okay.]

...

Hours passed.

Once I had regained some strength, I stood up and used the leftover bandages from Brianna's first-aid kit to patch up my wounds. My arm throbbed, my lower back burned, but I forced myself to keep going.

Three years.

That's how long it had been since Katie went missing. Over the years, I searched every inch of the five kilometers surrounding the area where she disappeared.

Every alley. Every park. Every bit of dirt.

Yet, I always came back empty-handed.

I used to dream of Katie as a newborn, soft, warm, smiling at me, and every time I'd wake up in tears.

In those early days, Trevor would wrap his arms around me, holding me through the night.

Later, he started coming home late, leaving earlier, and stopped asking about Katie altogether.

One day, he casually told me, "If you want another child, I'll agree."

I wiped away the tears.

He had given up on Katie just like that. Even when his infidelity was impossible to deny, he'd still bring up Katie to soften my resolve. To manipulate me.

But now, all that tenderness, all that so-called love, was for Brianna and her children.

I gathered up all of Katie's things and packed them carefully into a box.

When I looked at her smiling face in a photo, I managed a weak smile in return.

Then my phone buzzed again.

"I've found the information you asked for," came a deep voice on the line. "If you can't handle it alone, call me."