His Uncle's Bride Chapter 2

I staggered to my feet, my soul feeling as battered as my body, and brushed the dust from my dress. A sharp sting made me look down at my palm. I’d scraped it open, and tiny beads of blood were welling to the surface. My gorgeous evening gown was now streaked with dirt, its elegance ruined.

Just like my marriage. Once beautiful, now utterly stained.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I fought back a fresh wave of tears. "I'm a therapist," I whispered to myself. "Does that mean I'm supposed to calmly accept my husband's betrayal?"

Before I could sink further into my despair, the house manager found me. His eyes were filled with pity as he took in my disheveled state. "Ma'am, you should go change. You're expected back at the party soon. Don't let them have the satisfaction of gossiping about you."

Dressed in a fresh gown, I made my way to the backyard patio where the party was in full swing. The chatter and laughter died down as I appeared, a wave of silence rippling through the crowd.

A sweet, cloying voice broke the tension. "Oh, Mrs. Tinkcom, you're here! Perfect timing! Charlie was just about to cut the cake. He almost asked me to do it with him, he thought you weren't coming back."

She pouted playfully at Charlie, a gesture that was less of a complaint and more of a flirtation. "It's all your fault, Charlie. I almost overstepped. People might have thought I have no manners."

I recognized her. It was the woman from before, the one in Charlie's arms. Scarlett Vance, a rising starlet his company was promoting.

I stared at her, my face a mask of indifference, and mimicked her saccharine tone. "Oh, I think your manners are perfectly clear. In fact, anyone would be forgiven for thinking you were Mrs. Tinkcom."

Scarlett’s eyes instantly filled with tears. Before she could let out a single sob, Charlie leaped to her defense. He stepped in front of her, his gaze burning with fury. "Clara, have you not caused enough trouble for one night? Was that sarcasm really necessary? When did you become so vicious?"

"Maybe you need a little shock to clear your head."

With that, he grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards the swimming pool, ignoring the cumbersome weight of my gown. I struggled, I screamed, but not a single person moved to stop him.

"Charlie, I'm afraid of the water! Let me go!"

I thought that would make him stop. I was wrong. A cruel smile touched his lips as he released his grip.

"How else am I supposed to know if you're telling the truth, Mrs. Tinkcom?"

My heart turned to ash. I closed my eyes, bracing for the icy plunge.

But instead of cold water, I fell into a pair of strong, warm arms.

My eyes flew open to see a handsome face looming over mine. He looked familiar, but my mind was too scrambled to place him. He gently set me down in a nearby lounge chair before turning to Charlie with a mocking eyebrow raise.

"My dear nephew," he drawled, the words dripping with sarcasm. "The first thing I see upon my return is you manhandling your own wife. Does your grandfather know about this?"

Charlie’s face darkened. "Uncle Ethan," he bit out, his jaw tight. "It's good to see you. But this is a private family matter. If you're here for the party, you're welcome. Otherwise, stay out of it."

Ethan let out a sharp laugh, as if Charlie had just told the funniest joke in the world. "You know what they used to call men like you? Weak. Unfit to lead. Choosing your mistress over your wife."

I watched as Charlie's face turned a blotchy red, as if Ethan had struck a nerve. He finally exploded.

"All you ever do is use Grandpa to put me down! You call me unfit? What about you? You're a damn psycho! If it weren't for—"

He cut himself off, his voice fading as if he remembered who he was talking to.

The party ended abruptly. The cake was never cut. Charlie sent everyone home, including his uncle, Ethan.

I knew Charlie despised his younger uncle. He'd once told me, hissing the words, that Ethan was a genuine, certifiable lunatic.

As the last guest departed, a profound sadness washed over me. A near-stranger had defended me more fiercely than the man who had sworn to protect me—the very man who was the source of all my pain.

I didn't offer Charlie my usual comfort. I simply turned to leave.

I'd only taken two steps when his voice, low and laced with anger, stopped me.

"The way that psycho Ethan was staring at you... his eyes were practically glued to you. Are you planning on cheating?"

I summoned the last of my patience. "I have never once thought about cheating. You're the one parading your starlet around. And for the record, I wasn't even looking at him."

Charlie’s brow relaxed slightly. "Parading her around? Don't be so dramatic. I already told you, you'll always be Mrs. Tinkcom. What more do you want?"

I couldn't talk to him anymore. It was like speaking to a brick wall.

"Happy birthday," I said, and walked away.

Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, still offering him that small kindness after everything.