Betrayed by My Fiance and the Cousin I Raised

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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 fianc.

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.

But the one person who never should have lied to me was Roberta Sullivan.

When we were kids, money was tight, and Dad and I were both so afraid she'd feel slighted that we gave her the best of everything.

To save money, I told Dad I was lactose intolerant, just so the milk delivery was only ever for her, year after year.

Every scholarship I won in college, I never kept a cent. It all went to her trips, her chance to see the world.

Even when she stole my research, even when she took Rupert Stephens, my first love, and married him.

Every time she did me wrong, I chose to forgive her.

Only because I'd made a promise to my mother on her deathbed, a promise to take care of her.

But now, I was starting to regret it.

I stared straight into Roberta's face, and I couldn't stop the question from coming out. "Why?"

Her tone was all innocence, and yet every word out of her mouth was dressed up as concern for me.

"Sis, the truth is, I'm the one who's been good to you."

"You've always been the quiet type. The institute work is dull and dreary, completely wrong for you. That's the only reason I took your spot and went instead."

"As for Rupert, at first I only wanted to help you test whether he really loved you. How was I supposed to know he'd fall so hard for me, that he'd refuse to marry anyone else?"

"And to make it up to you, didn't I introduce you to Owen, who's an even better match?"

"I just never expected that Owen would still be carrying a torch for me."

"When I think it all through, feelings like these just can't be forced in the end."

By the time she finished, somehow it had all become my fault.

I refused to let it go, and I pressed Owen too. "If you love her so much, why bother? Why go through with marrying me at all?"

His face curled with contempt, his voice careless. "If Roberta weren't already married."

"You think it would ever have been your turn to walk into the Delgado house?"

I said nothing for a long moment. I didn't argue anymore.

Once I'd calmed down, I raised my phone and spoke evenly. "A minute ago, I already dialed Rupert."

"Everything you've both just said, say it again, to his face."

"If he has no objection, then I have nothing left to say."

The color drained from Roberta's face. She bolted up off the bed and lunged to grab it.

In the struggle the phone slipped free and hit the floor, the screen going black.

She froze for a second, then, as if something had just come back to her, the corner of her mouth tipped up in triumph. "Forget it. You can't scare me."

"Back then, to keep things proper between you and Rupert, you didn't even come to our wedding."

"And he changed his number ages ago. You two don't talk at all. How could you even call him?"

With that, she melted softly into Owen's arms, like a fox that had gotten exactly what it wanted.

But she'd forgotten one thing. Ever since Rupert married her, he'd been added to the family group chat.

What I'd dialed just now was a group call.

The next second, fists slammed against the door hard enough to shake it, and Rupert's furious voice tore in from the hallway. "Roberta, get your clothes on and get out here!"

Roberta was frantic, like an ant on a hot pan.

But unless she planned to jump from the seventh floor, there was no way out.

Owen had run completely out of patience with me. He grabbed me hard and dragged me into the room.

Once he'd made sure no one outside could hear, he laid out his terms. "Everything you have now, Roberta gave to you. It's about time you learned to be grateful."

"In a minute you'll smooth it over. Tell them it was a joke."

"As long as you cover for Roberta, I'll double the engagement payout."

When I just kept my face cold and said nothing, he added, smug as ever, "Don't worry. Even if I don't love you, for Roberta's sake, since she's your cousin, I can throw you a turn now and then. Help me pass the time."

Who knows, I might even let you have my child.

At that, Roberta forgot all about Rupert outside the door.

Jealousy flashing across her face, she stepped up and clutched at Owen's sleeve, protesting under her breath.

You're not allowed to sleep with her.

The whole thing turned my stomach.

I lifted a hand and cut them off, refusing.

Because no matter what he offered this time, I wasn't going to swallow it again.

The moment the door opened, I laid it all bare in front of Rupert, every word of what had just happened.

Rupert's eyes blazed with fury, but Roberta was already a sobbing mess.

Even so, she threw herself into his arms with practiced ease and choked out:

I only came today to light candles for Aunt, and Cousin Enya insisted on slandering me, said she'd teach me a lesson.

Maybe she still hates me for taking you from her back then, so she wants to tear us apart.

Rupert didn't believe her right away. Instead he shoved her off and let out a cold laugh.

Then what about what I just heard on the phone? Did I imagine that too?

Before Roberta could answer, a figure moved to shield her.

Rupert, this is my fault too. I've always covered for Enya, and I spoiled her into this.

She was sulking at me again today, so she faked a recording to lure you here, just to drive a wedge between you and your wife.

Owen was a master of twisting words. Two flat sentences, and he'd smoothed the whole thing over.

I pointed at the rumpled mess on the bed, and the used protection littering the floor, and asked coldly:

Then what about these? How do you talk your way out of these?

Owen didn't hesitate for a second. He pulled me back into his arms and feigned affection.

Enya, stop it. Aren't those from when you and I were just together?

Fine, throw your tantrum at me, but why drag Roberta into it?

I pulled out of his arms on instinct and told Rupert not to believe their lies.

But one look at Roberta's tears, and Rupert softened.

He looked at me, his eyes wavering.

I know Roberta's character better than anyone. She wouldn't betray me.

And your word alone doesn't prove anything.

Enya, do you have proof?

His question stopped me cold.

I wanted to say there was a neighbor who could confirm every word.

But Owen held me locked against him and breathed a threat low enough for only the two of us to hear:

If you want your father to live a few more years, shut your mouth.

Or that oxygen line of his might come loose one day. No one could say how.

I shook with rage, and there was nothing I could do.

Dad was the only family I had left in this world. I didn't dare gamble his life on my pride.

And there's no reasoning with a man hell-bent on his own ruin.

If Rupert refused to believe me, nothing I said would change his mind.

In the end, under the weight of his accusing stare, I had no choice but to take the loss in silence.

If you don't believe me, then I have nothing more to say.

Seeing me back down, Roberta wept as though she'd suffered some terrible injustice, tears spilling without end.

Rupert coaxed her, and all the while shot me a venomous look.

Whatever faint guilt he'd once carried toward me vanished in that instant.

To win Roberta over completely, he didn't care who was watching. He spoke up for her outright:

Enya, I used to feel I owed you.

But now I see, marrying Roberta instead was the best decision I ever made in my life.

I opened my mouth to say something, then swallowed it back down.

Roberta pressed down the smugness in her eyes and put on a show of speaking up for me:

Owen, don't be too hard on Cousin Enya. After all, we were the ones who wronged her first.

It's just that, three days from now, she won't have a single relative from her side to see her off. That would look so undignified.

So I thought I'd stay a few more days, at least help Cousin Enya get through the wedding. Is that all right?

Rupert's face tightened with reluctance, and he said he could stay with her.

But Roberta's eyes reddened again, and she snapped,

You don't believe I'm innocent, so you want to stay and keep watch over me?

Or is it that you still can't let go of Cousin Enya?

At that, Rupert panicked and nodded his agreement at once.

He even swore on his own life that he would never let himself be suspicious again.

Then he turned and left without looking back.

But as he passed me, he couldn't help dropping a low warning.

Roberta is sentimental about the past. I'm not.

If you bully her again, I'll have you committed to a psychiatric ward myself.

I gave a bitter smile and let my gaze drift somewhere else.

The moment Rupert was gone, Owen couldn't wait to brand his own marks on Roberta, just to cover the warmth Rupert had left on her skin.

I took down my mother's portrait, held it against my chest, and told them to get out.

But Owen, shameless as ever, not only refused to leave, he tossed out an order that turned my stomach.

Go buy ten boxes of condoms. What we've got won't last tonight.

I didn't answer. I stayed silent for a long while, then finally turned my eyes to Roberta.

Back then, to make me give you up to Rupert, you were willing to throw yourself off a building just to marry him.

You can hide this for a while, but you can't hide it for a lifetime.

Turn back now, and I can pretend none of this ever happened.

I said all this not as forgiveness, but because I felt sorry for her.

Rupert trusted her so completely. It meant he truly loved Roberta.

As her elder cousin, I didn't want to watch her destroy her own family.

But Roberta put on her wounded act again.

Cousin Enya, how can you say something like that?

It's Owen who's always found you dull and boring. He never wanted to touch you.

I only sacrificed myself, satisfying him in your place, so he'd treat you a little better.

Before the words were even out, as if she meant to perform it just for me, she tangled herself around Owen even more shamelessly.

I gave up on her completely, took up my mother's portrait, and went downstairs.

At the foot of the stairs, the neighbor, Marcus, was pacing, and there was nothing left in his eyes for me but pity.

He scratched his head, a little embarrassed, and told me the truth.

The fact was, he'd had his ear to the wall all day. He'd pieced together most of what was going on, and he couldn't stomach what they'd done to me.

He even volunteered, said he'd come forward as a witness and expose that pair to their faces.

Who would have thought that in the end, the only one willing to stand on my side was a neighbor I'd never really met.

I gave him an awkward smile and raised a hand to stop him.

It's all right, Marcus. Let's talk about it after three days.

Marcus stared, stunned, and tried to talk me out of it.

Miss, they've trampled all over you, and you're still going to marry him?

A person only lives once. Even if you can't win, you've got to keep your pride!

I tightened my fist and looked down at my dead mother's portrait in my arms. My voice came soft as a sigh.

Yes. You've got to keep your pride.

The first thing I did was call the hospital where my father was, to start the paperwork to transfer him.

Just as I'd feared, I was still one step behind Owen.

The nurse told me my father had been picked up and taken out of the hospital ten minutes earlier.

By the time I'd pulled myself back together and returned to the old house, the two of them were still in the bed.

I didn't understand. I crushed down everything I was feeling and looked at Owen.

"Plenty of women want to marry you. Why does it have to be me?"

Owen lifted his eyes to mine, his voice flat.

"Because you're sensible and easy to handle. And besides"

He paused, then went on.

"And besides, you need a lot of money to keep your father alive."

"Other than coming to me for scraps, what choice do you really have?"

"And marrying you is the only way I get to stay by Roberta's side without anyone questioning it."

He wasn't wrong. As things stood, I had no grounds to refuse anything he asked.

For a long moment I said nothing. Then I lifted my head and agreed to his terms.

I only made one demand of my own.

"I want to see my father. I want to see for myself that he's all right."

Owen frowned, plainly out of patience.

But against the stubbornness in my eyes, he gave in at last.

Early the next morning, I saw my father in a private hospital.

His face was frighteningly pale, yet when he saw me he forced up that same bright, easy smile.

He was always like this. Afraid I'd worry, so he pretended everything was light and fine.

Seeing me come alone, he grew uneasy.

"Where's your husband? You two haven't been fighting lately, have you?"

I shook my head and forced out a thin smile. "No. We're doing fine."

Only then did he relax. He took the bowl of pork rib soup I held out, and there was nothing but relief in his voice.

"Good. I was afraid I'd caused a rift between you and him."

"Honestly, your husband had a point. The people coming from his side are all important, respectable folks."

"Looking the way I do, I'd only have embarrassed you."

I froze where I stood, my hand hanging in the air.

Owen had never told me any of this.

My eyes stung red in an instant, and before I knew it I was asking, "If I didn't want to marry anymore, would that be all right..."

My voice was barely there, but my father heard it clearly.

"Sweetheart, has Owen been mistreating you?"

"Or did Roberta cause some trouble again and upset you?"

He sat bolt upright, so worked up that a fit of coughing tore through him.

I came to my senses and rushed to say it was only a joke.

But my father's face stayed dead serious as he gripped my hand tight.

"Sweetheart, you must never tie your life to mine."

"My greatest wish in this whole life is just to see you happy. Don't you know that?"

My nose ached, and the tears came down before I could stop them.

He got so angry he wanted to call Owen and demand an answer.

I hurried to stop him, making up some excuse about an allergy, nothing serious.

Then I fled.

Because I was terrified that if I stayed one second longer, he'd see through me and refuse the treatment.

I was still turning it over, wondering whether to beg Owen one more time.

If only my father could see me in the wedding dress. Even from behind would be enough.

But the moment I stepped out of the hospital, a cry went up in the distance.

"A patient jumped!"

I looked over from far off, and something about the figure was familiar.

It wasn't until I came closer that I realized it was my father.

In the morgue, a nurse handed me a cash gift envelope. They'd found it under his pillow.

It was the savings he'd scraped together a little at a time out of his own medical money, and folded inside was a note.

"To my daughter, congratulations on your wedding, and may you be happy forever."

I held that scrap of paper and wept until I couldn't make a sound in the morgue.

My father had traded his own life for my happiness.

I'd meant to go find Owen and call off the engagement.

But as I reached the corner outside his office, I heard Roberta's anxious voice.

"Even if your uncle yelled at you on the phone this morning, you still can't go spilling everything about us to him."

"What if he gets desperate and decides to come after you?"

Owen let out a cold scoff, contempt dripping from every word.

"He brought it on himself, pushing me for answers."

"All I did was tell him the truth. If it scared the life out of him, that's what he gets."

"A legless old burden like that. What could he possibly do?"

I sagged against the wall, so heartbroken I could barely keep my feet under me.

I opened the call log.

Two minutes and fourteen seconds, ending the very moment before my father jumped.

So it wasn't the illness that drove my father to his death. It was that phone call from Owen.

In that case, this wedding stays on.