His Regret: Loved by My Ex's Uncle

Noah

This wasn’t the first time I received photos of Owen cheating on me. The blonde hair and slender build of the woman kissing him reminded me of my best friend Josie. Could it be…? No, she would never do that to me! 

With trembling fingers, I dropped my phone. How could my husband cheat on me?! I thought I was the most important person in his life.

After 7 horrible years at the orphanage, I was adopted by Owen’s family. I saved Owen's life when we were young. His family was so grateful that they took me in. How could Owen betray me after everything we went through?! 

We grew up together and were always inseparable. We fell in love and got married when we were 22 years old. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now.

But Owen had been acting very strange lately. These photos seemed to explain why… 

I had to confront him. “Owen?” I called out. “Owen, where are you?” He didn't answer. He must be upstairs.

I walked up the stairs and heard him talking to his friend Simon on the phone.

As I was about to knock on the door, I overheard: “No, I don’t think I love her anymore.”

His words gave me icy chills.

“You should be happy, Simon. I know you like Noah. If we get a divorce, you can have her.” Owen continued.

“He said...what?” I couldn’t believe my ears and cried in my heart, “How dare he talk about me like that? I wasn't just some object he could give away! ” 

Hearing Owen’s frivolous talk with his friend, I felt sick. I grew up with him and got married for so many years. But he recently acted like a stranger. Did he have a new love? Why did he treat me in such a cruel way?!

I was almost to open the door to question him, but suddenly I hesitated, “Question him and then what? Do I want divorce? No, I don’t think so. Anyway, I have to calm down. At least I need to have a talk with him first. I need to know what happened to our marriage.” So, I quietly made my way back downstairs. 

I tried to forget about what I heard by preparing dinner. As I was dishing up our pasta, the delightful scent of italian herbs drifted through the house. I heard Owen come downstairs.

“Just in time for your dinner, hun!” I said, trying to sound normal. But he was wearing his coat and gelled hair. He looked handsome as ever and ready to leave. I could smell his aftershave - my favorite smell in the world.

“Where are you going? It’s getting late and dinner is ready.” I said.

“Dinner with a client. Don’t wait for me.” Owen replied and left without hesitation.

I sat alone at the table, looking at the food I’d carefully prepared for him. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I listlessly turned the spaghetti round and round with my fork. I wasn’t hungry.

After storing away the leftovers, I stared at the TV for a while. Nothing could get my mind off of Owen and whoever that blonde tramp was.

I made my way to the bathroom. I washed my mascara stained face and looked at myself in the mirror. Why did he stop loving me? Am I not beautiful enough? Did I not do enough to make him happy?

I gave my body a scrutinizing glance, suddenly seeing all the parts of me that weren’t perfect. My belly wasn’t as flat as it used to be. Maybe I should’ve had my lips done, like my friend Josie. Mine always used to be fuller than hers. But now she had the plump, luscious lips of a model.

After washing up, I went to bed. Dropping my face into my pillow, I felt miserable. I tried to fall asleep, but my mind kept wandering. Where was Owen? And with who? Will he even come home tonight?

At 1 am, I finally heard the key turn in the front door. From all the stumbling I could hear Owen was very drunk. I swiftly made my way downstairs to help him to the bedroom. He started kissing me and said a blurry name. I tried to identify what it was. After he repeated it many times, I was shocked. It sounded like... “Joise”!

“Josie…? Were you with Josie?” I asked with panic in my voice. I helped his heavy body into bed. He grunted some words I couldn’t understand.

I couldn’t believe my husband cheated on me with my best friend. I cried and pleaded with him to see that it was me, not Josie. He pushed me away. As his head hit the pillow, he started snoring right away.

Looking at my husband - completely drunk - I didn’t recognize the man I knew and loved. I tried to sleep next to him. But it felt like I was lying next to a stranger.

I went downstairs and sat on the sofa all night, wide eyed, thinking about what happened between us.

The next morning, Owen came downstairs after a shower. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling. He must be hungover.

When I got up from the couch, I felt very weak and feverish. The sleepless night must've made me sick.

“Owen, are you OK?” I asked as I struggled to walk over to him. I really wanted to hug him. If only for a sense of comfort.

He swept my arms away and told me to leave him alone. I was so weak and dizzy, his push made me fall.

Owen was stunned for a moment. Then he said coldly, “If you’re sick, go see a doctor.”

I scrambled up to my feet, and looked at him with a shocked expression.

Suddenly, his phone rang. As he lifted it to his ear, the screen lit up. I could clearly see who was calling: “Josie”.