My Ex's Uncle Is My Husband[ENGLISH]

Miley's POV.

A smile stretched across my face as the elevator carried me upward. In my hands were pizza and beer, my little surprise for Jackson at his condo. I had woken up feeling unwell that morning and called in sick at work, but instead of resting, I decided to come see him. It felt perfect—he must have missed me by now, just as I missed him. The past few days had kept me buried in work, sorting endless documents for the transition of management at the office.

I checked my reflection in the elevator’s polished surface, making sure I looked my best. My shoulder-length hair, which I had straightened to change things up, framed my face neatly. A touch of perfume lingered around me, and I wore a white floral dress with a cardigan to keep off the chill. Simple, but I looked beautiful—beautiful enough for the man I loved.

But as the doors opened and I stepped out, I froze. There they were—Jackson and Chelsea—just entering the condo together. They were laughing, his arm casually draped around her shoulders. My heart skipped a beat. Jackson was often playful with women, so I tried not to think too much of it. But why were they together now? Jackson had told me he still had work to finish, while Chelsea had promised she would visit me later.

I quickened my steps, and as I neared their unit, I noticed the door left slightly ajar. Perfect for me to slip inside and surprise them. But then, I heard voices.

“I thought you were going to see Miley? Why call me here instead? Did you miss me?” Chelsea’s laugh floated out.

I stopped cold, leaning against the wall. Their voices came clearly from the living room.

“We’ll deal with her later. Yes, I missed you. Is that so wrong?” Jackson’s voice followed.

My throat tightened, my heartbeat pounding louder with every word. A sickening weight pressed down on me, as though icy water had been poured over my entire body.

“Will you tell Miley—ohh…” Chelsea’s words broke into breathless moans.

The sound made my knees weak. My grip on the pizza box tightened until my hands trembled. Their laughter was gone now, replaced only by those awful, intimate sounds. I swallowed hard, tears pricking my eyes, until sobs escaped my throat. I stepped back, desperate to leave, but in my haste the beer can slipped from my hand and clattered to the floor.

Silence.

Tears streamed freely down my face as the door swung open. Jackson stood there, eyes wide in shock.

“M-Millicent,” he stammered.

Chelsea appeared behind him, her blazer hanging open to reveal a pink bra. Her face went pale when she saw me. “M-Miley? What are you doing here? I thought you were sick?”

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. “Y-yes, I was. But even feeling awful, I forced myself to get up so I could surprise my BOYFRIEND, who said he missed me. But guess what? I’m the one who ended up with the surprise.” My voice cracked, betraying the pain in my chest no matter how hard I tried to sound angry.

It was like being stabbed again and again, each word cutting deeper. My hands went numb, my body trembling as tears blurred my vision.

“L-let me explain, Millicent,” Jackson said, stepping forward.

But my response was a resounding slap across his face.

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, Miley,” Chelsea blurted.

Another slap, this time for her.

“I don’t know which hurts more,” I sobbed, “my boyfriend of four years betraying me, or my best friend stabbing me in the back.” My voice broke into gasps, the sobs shaking me so violently I could barely breathe.

I dropped everything I carried and fled the unit, tears spilling endlessly down my cheeks. My chest ached so badly it felt like my heart might collapse in on itself. These two—Jackson and Chelsea—were the people I trusted most, the ones who made me believe I could be happy after everything I had endured growing up. I was an orphan, raised by someone who only ever hurt me. When I met them, I thought I had finally found family, love, and safety. But I was wrong. They were the ones who hurt me worst of all.

“Millicent, please—let me explain. Just listen to me!” Jackson ran after me, catching me near the elevator.

“There’s nothing left to say.” I shook my head, eyes squeezed shut. “It’s over, Jackson. I hope you and Chelsea are very happy together.” My fingers jabbed the elevator button until the doors opened, and I stepped inside.

“Milli, please! You’re the one I love. I just… I just wanted attention because you were always so busy!” His words clawed at me, but instead of softening, they only fanned the fire of my rage.

“So I was just your pastime? Is that what I am to you, Jackson?” Chelsea’s voice rang out behind him, angry and sharp. But I no longer cared if they fought. Relief washed over me as the elevator doors slid shut, cutting them both from view. I sank against the wall and wept.

I loved Jackson. We had planned our future together—our wedding, our children, the home we would build. His wealthy family never accepted me, but Jackson fought for us, and I thought that was enough. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive to have him by my side. But it was all an illusion. A dream I had finally woken from.

I used to believe I wouldn’t survive if he left. That even if he strayed, I would forgive him as long as he came back. But I was wrong. My chest heaved painfully as I stumbled out of the elevator, rushing toward my car in the basement.

Inside, the dam broke. I sobbed harder than I had in years. The last time I cried this way was when my father died. Now, it was Jackson and Chelsea who had brought me to my knees.

I reached for the bottled water on the passenger seat and drank, hoping it would ease the heaviness crushing me. It didn’t. The pain only came back in waves, relentless. I buried my face against the steering wheel, letting grief consume me until exhaustion pulled me into sleep.

When I woke, the world outside was already dark. I started the car, hands trembling, and drove back to the apartment I rented in Bulacan—alone.