Betrayed by My Fiancé and the Cousin I Raised

A neighbor upstairs was blowing up the building group chat, tagging me again and again:

*It's the middle of the day on a weekend. Can the happy couple keep it down?*

*Whatever you two are doing up there, the whole building can hear you.*

I had no idea what they were talking about, and I was about to tell them they had the wrong unit.

Because this was the old house my mother lived in before she died. Nobody lived here anymore, and the only reason I was coming back today was to light candles for her.

Then the neighbor dropped a video, filmed right outside my door.

There really were sounds coming out of my apartment, faint and broken.

Uneasy, I hurried back.

When I pushed the door open, Owen Delgado and my cousin were just reaching for their clothes.

My sudden appearance cut them off, but instead of flinching, he admitted it to my face, perfectly calm:

"If it weren't to become family with Roberta Sullivan, I never would have married you.

"Just keep your mouth shut, and I'll make sure you never want for anything after the wedding.

"The three of us living well from here on out, that's what matters more than anything.

"I've booked my sweetheart a candlelit dinner. Go and change the sheets."

And with that, they reached for each other again.

What they didn't know was that one minute earlier, the call I'd placed had already connected to Roberta's husband on the other end.

If three people could live so happily together, surely four would be even livelier.

……

Owen walked over to me slowly, tipped up my chin, and sneered:

"Enya Crawford, marrying me is the luckiest thing that ever happened to your family.

"When it comes down to it, everything you have right now, Roberta handed to you.

"Otherwise, what makes you think a nobody little assistant could ever become the wife of a wealthy family?"

I never expected him to flip it on me like that.

I never asked Roberta to hand me anything.

The opposite was true. She stole five years of my research, quietly published it under her own name, and cost me my place at the institute.

But I forgave her anyway.

Because before she died, my mother told me:

"Roberta lost her parents when she was little. She's had it so hard.

"Not being able to take care of your aunt back then is the one regret I'll carry my whole life.

"So as her older cousin, you have to look after Roberta."

Even though my mother died saving her, even though my father lost the lower half of his body charging into the fire to pull her out.

I still talked myself into raising her like my own sister for ten years.

If I had known Owen wanted her, I never would have said yes to that proposal last month.

But of all days, she chose the anniversary of my mother's death.

And right in front of the portrait, she rolled into bed with my fiancé.

If my mother could see this from wherever she was, it would break her heart.

I pointed at the portrait on the wall, gritted my teeth, and looked at Roberta, my voice cold:

"Today is the anniversary of my mother's death. Doesn't your conscience hurt at all?"

Roberta gave it one glance, and her eyes went red, like she was the one being wronged.

She looked at Owen, hurt, and complained:

"I told you to hold off, to do it somewhere else.

"Now she's caught us, and she'll be using it to threaten me for the rest of my life."

That one line set Owen off completely.

He seized my throat and slammed me back against the wall.

Even when my head struck the wall hard enough to leave a smear of blood, even when my vision swam, he didn't care.

Owen leaned close to my ear and warned me, low and hard:

"Roberta has already given you more than enough. Don't be so greedy.

"Keep your mouth shut, and three days from now the wedding still happens, and your father still gets the engagement money and the better treatment.

"Otherwise, you walk away with nothing."

Two years I'd known him, and this was how Owen treated me.

That was when I finally understood.

Loving someone, it turns out, can be an act too.