They Chose Her Over Me, So I Chose Their Uncle

I stood in the cemetery on my wedding day.

Andrew Whitmore and Daniel Whitmore—the childhood friends who once vied for my heart—had returned, not alone, but with a girl. She was three years younger than me and already visibly pregnant.

They no longer fought over me. Instead, they spoke in solemn, practiced tones.

“Even though Chloe isn’t related to us by blood,” Andrew said, “now that she’s carrying our child, we have to take responsibility.”

They wanted me to look after Chloe Swift. To decide, on the day she gave birth, which one of them she should marry.

I stayed quiet on the other end of the line.

With the wedding descending into chaos due to the bride’s sudden disappearance, I stepped back into the wedding dress I’d set aside earlier.

“I’ve already decided who I’m marrying,” I said.

If they could ignore family ties and decency, then why couldn’t I marry the man they all pretended was long gone? He was no blood relation. Just the brother of a ghost.

——

The ceremony in the cemetery went ahead—brief, silent, surreal.

Afterward, Demi Whitmore, the matriarch of the family, took my hand gently and sighed.

“I’ve wronged you today… my son, Tommy, may be gone, but I’ll treat you like my own daughter.”

She told me to gather my belongings and prepare to leave the second wing of the estate.

“In a week, I’ll bring you back to the main house and formally introduce you.”

I stood and watched her car disappear down the gravel path.

Then a sudden jolt hit me from behind.

Andrew stormed toward me and grabbed my arm, spinning me around.

“What the hell are you doing in a wedding dress?” he snapped.

Only then did I remember I hadn’t changed out of it.

Before I could answer, Chloe approached, cradling her belly like a prop.

“Auntie, you’re not trying to force a marriage just by showing up dressed like that, are you?” she asked with saccharine sweetness.

“Even if you can’t stand the child I’m carrying, forcing yourself on a dead man’s brother? That’s beyond cruel.”

She wept—glistening, cinematic tears meant to be seen.

Daniel and Andrew immediately rushed to shield her.

I looked at the scene and couldn’t help the bitter smile tugging at my lips.

Once, they had shielded me that way.

Now, I was just a nuisance. An outsider.

“I’m wearing a wedding dress because I got married today,” I said. “It has nothing to do with you.”

The color drained from both their faces.

Then Daniel’s voice sharpened. “Andrew and I both admitted our mistakes. Chloe only got pregnant because we thought she was you.”

“And now you’re punishing us with some fake marriage stunt?”

Punishing?

They had manipulated my life from the start. If I showed affection to one, the other would fall apart. If I didn’t choose, they both guilted me. I’d spent years walking on eggshells in this family, afraid I’d be cast out of the city if their power struggle turned against me.

“Forcing?” I said with disbelief. “Weren’t you the ones who forced me?”

Andrew stepped in, his voice lowered. “Yes, we did. But Chloe’s carrying our child now. She matters more than anything.”

I looked at these two men who had declared their love for me more times than I could count and I took a breath.

“I understand. I won’t interfere. I wish you both well.”

I turned to leave.

Maybe it was the calmness in my voice that spooked them. They exchanged a glance and tried to stop me.

In the scuffle, something fell from my hand—my marriage certificate.

I stooped to retrieve it, but Daniel stepped forward and crushed my hand beneath his heel.

“I really thought you’d changed,” he sneered. “Still with the theatrics—wedding dress, fake papers? You just never stop performing, do you?”