My Husband's Uncle Is My Second Chance

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e wine glasses sparkled, and the roast chicken I had carefully made sat untouched in the cente

n. I smoothed down the new dress I had bought just for tonight. Soft navy blue silk that hugged my body. I had even curled my hair, added perfume, and wore lipst

, then I finally typed: "Dinner's ready. Are you

t." Just five words. That's all he sent. No I'm sorry. No I'll make it

message until th

n. I had lost count of how many nights I'd done this. Set the table for two. Cooked something s

ut looking tired... or distant. I had become... invisible. To him, I was just someone who lived in the same house. I blinked away tears and stood up. I didn't have the strengt

hope. And that's when I saw it. A new photo. It was from one of those gossip pages that follow elite parties and private lounges. There he was. Grayson. At a lounge he told me he'd never go to without me.

with her. He promised me a life... but shares it with someone else. I didn't cry right away. My eyes just stayed open, fixed on the photograph. Then, gradually, the sobs started. They came

oed in the corridor like little reminders t

turned to his pillow and buried my face into it, hoping-just hoping-he would open the door, kiss my forehead, and say, "I'm sorry. I love you." Bu

arry him to feel this alone," I whispered into the pillow, my words little more than a sigh. And