Your Uncle’s My Husband Now—Back Off, Ex!

Nyla returned home and sat on the living room sofa, staring at her phone. The number she had just dialed glowed on the screen. After calming down from her anger and pain, she had to face reality. A divorce required financial independence. Clark was covering all of her father's monthly medical expenses. The bills reached a staggering $100,000 each month. She simply couldn't afford it.

Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through her contacts. She stopped at a familiar name. Professor Anderson. Her former research supervisor from graduate school.

"Professor Anderson? This is Nyla. Nyla Jayston." She tried to sound calm, but her voice cracked slightly.

A surprised voice came from the other end. "Nyla! Oh my god, are you okay? I haven't been in touch since you got married three years ago."

Nyla bit her lip hard. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. "Professor, I want to return to research. I know this sounds sudden, but I need a job."

"Of course!" Professor Anderson agreed without hesitation. "You're one of the best students I've ever taught. Your thesis on molecular biology was groundbreaking. I can contact you right now with a company that's looking for a senior researcher position. The salary is excellent."

"Thank you," Nyla whispered. Relief flooded through her chest. "I really appreciate this."

"Don't mention it. You have incredible talent. It's a shame you left research when you got married. When can you start?"

"As soon as possible."

After hanging up, Nyla felt a small spark of hope. She could do this. She could leave Clark and rebuild her life.

She walked into their bedroom and began packing. Her hands moved mechanically, folding clothes and placing them in a suitcase. Hanging in the closet were the matching pajamas they'd bought on their honeymoon in Paris. On the dresser sat a small angel figurine they'd brought back from Italy. On the wall were photos of them at the beach, laughing and kissing under the sunset.

Each item silently spoke of past sweetness. Yet now they stabbed her heart like knives. How had she been so blind? How had she missed the signs?

She opened the dresser drawer to retrieve some personal belongings. Her wedding ring caught the light, mocking her. Then she saw it. The marriage certificate.

With trembling hands, Nyla picked it up. She flipped to the first page, revealing two young, radiant faces. Her own smile was so bright it hurt to look at. Clark's eyes shone with pure joy.

It was August 23rd, three years ago. To become the first couple to receive their marriage certificate that day, they had woken up at four in the morning to queue at the registry office. Clark had been as excited as a child. He spoke nervously throughout the entire ride.

"Nyla, we're really getting married," he had said, bouncing in the passenger seat. "I feel like I'm eighteen again. Like the first time I saw you in Professor Wilson's chemistry class."

When the staff handed them the marriage certificate, Clark's hands had trembled violently. He took it carefully, as if it were made of glass. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Nyla, we're finally husband and wife," he had whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "I swear I'll love and protect you for the rest of my life. You're everything to me."

Nyla had believed every word. She had thought they were soulmates. Forever.

But now...

She stared at her beaming smile in the photo. Before she could shed a tear, she heard the familiar sound of a car engine downstairs. Her heart stopped. The garage door rumbled open. Footsteps on the stairs.

"Honey, I'm back!" Clark's voice echoed from downstairs, cheerful and casual.

Panic seized Nyla's chest. She hurriedly shoved the marriage certificate back into the drawer. She wiped her eyes frantically and tried to appear normal. The bedroom door was still open. She couldn't let him see the suitcase.

Footsteps approached down the hallway. Clark pushed the door open, his face lighting up when he saw her. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

His embrace had once been her safest haven. Now Nyla felt only nausea rising in her throat. She could smell an unfamiliar scent on his skin. Sweet vanilla shower gel. He had obviously showered somewhere else before coming home.

"Did you miss me?" Clark whispered softly in her ear. His voice carried a lazy satisfaction, like a cat who'd just finished a meal.

Nyla's muscles tensed. She resisted the urge to shove him away. Her body felt rigid as stone. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, babe." Clark's lie rolled off his tongue effortlessly. "I was so busy at work yesterday that I fell asleep at the office. I completely missed our anniversary."

He pulled an exquisite jewelry box from his jacket pocket. "But look what I got you to make up for it."

He opened the box with a flourish. Inside lay an exquisite diamond necklace. The stones caught the bedroom light, throwing rainbow patterns on the walls.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Clark's eyes sparkled with pride. "Turn around so I can put it on you."

Nyla mechanically turned around. She felt like a puppet with cut strings. Clark's fingers traced her neck as he fastened the clasp. The cold metal pressed against her skin. The diamonds felt heavy. Suffocating.

"Perfect," Clark stepped back to admire his handiwork. His satisfaction was obvious. "Tomorrow night is Grandpa's birthday party. The entire Summer family will be there. With this necklace, you'll definitely be the most beautiful woman in the room."

"Do I need to go?" Nyla asked. Her voice sounded hollow even to her own ears. She just wanted to escape. To get away from everything connected to the Summer family.

"Of course you need to go. You're my wife." Clark looked at her with what seemed like genuine affection. He leaned in to kiss her, but Nyla quickly pushed him away.

"You should shower first," she said, turning her face away.

Clark nodded, seemingly unbothered. "Good idea. I've been working all day."

He grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom. The shower turned on. Steam began seeping under the door.

Nyla's phone suddenly buzzed with a notification. She glanced at the screen. A Facebook message.

Her blood turned to ice.

On the screen was a photo. A woman wearing a necklace identical to the one around Nyla's neck. Hickeys and scratches covered the woman's pale skin. The photo was cropped to show only her slender neck and the curve of her breasts.

Below the image was a message that made Nyla's world crumble: [Does the necklace look good? I picked it out especially for you. I wore it when we made love last night. Clark said it looked beautiful on me.]