Naomi's POV

I tossed his phone into his chest in response. But he caught it, took a look, and let out a helpless laugh before wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Baby, I haven't had a chance to introduce her to you yet. This is my niece. I use that account to log into my game, so she's the only contact I added. Don't overthink it—we only played together once," he explained.

But I wasn't convinced yet, so I coldly demanded, "And how do you explain the photo?"

Wilbur burst into laughter and playfully tapped the tip of my nose.

"Silly girl, are you really that clueless? She obviously sent it to the wrong person."

He then leaned in with a teasing smile and added, "Besides, Roxanne is our niece. How could you even think that way?"

I gradually wavered and my tension started to ease.

He pressed a kiss against my neck and lightly bit down. "Punishment," he murmured.

"Baby, did you wear this just for me tonight?"

Pretending to be still angry, I turned my head away with a pout. "No. I was planning to take a picture for another man."

Hearing that, Wilbur lunged at me, but I pushed him away.

Even though I wanted to believe him, a lingering unease still clung to me.

That night, I didn’t let him touch me. To my surprise, he didn’t push, just held me close as we fell asleep.

The next morning, he told me he was going home to visit his parents—his usual routine whenever he was back.

But something inside me just didn’t sit right. So, I decided to follow him.

Before I left, I called my best friend.

She sighed dramatically on the other end. "Naomi, are you serious? You sound paranoid. How could there be something between them when your boyfriend calls her "niece" and she calls him "uncle?" I think you're just stressed out. Why don’t you take a couple of days off and go on a trip with Wilbur?"

But I refused to back down. "My gut instinct is never wrong. If I don’t figure this out, I’ll never let it go."

"I've been a strategist for six years, Naomi, and I've never found a single flaw in Wilbur. A man this perfect is rare. If you push him away for no reason and he ends up back on the market, you’ll regret it," she groaned, sounding a bit annoyed.

Just then, I saw Wilbur about to leave, so I replied to my friend, "He's leaving. I’ll talk to you later."

Then, I started the car and followed him.

For the entire day, he stayed at his parents' house.

As such, relief washed over me. I scolded myself for overthinking, for letting my paranoia run wild.

After all these years, he still loved me.

But just as I was about to head back, I saw his car speed past from the right.

My heart clenched, and I turned the wheel and followed.

He drove to our old house. Back in college, his parents had bought him a private villa near the university, so we rarely stayed in the dorms. Most nights, we were here.

This place held so many memories for us.

But ever since Wilbur moved abroad, no one had been here. It hadn’t been cleaned or lived in for years.

So why was he coming back now?

I waited for about ten minutes after he went inside before stepping out of my car. My pulse hammered in my ears.

Just before I reached the door, I sent him a message.

[Baby, are you staying at your parents' place tonight, or are you coming home?]

His reply came almost instantly.

[Baby, I’m not coming back tonight. My parents want me to stay and spend more time with them. Sorry to make you sleep alone tonight.]

I scoffed upon reading his reply.

If it were before, I might’ve believed him.

Tears welled up, but I wiped them away with my fingertips. Then, I stepped forward.

I knew the door code. I punched it in, walked inside, and headed straight for the bedroom.

But then I heard it—a woman’s voice.

"Uncle Wilbur, slow down... that’s too fast!"

His voice followed, low and teasing.

"You don’t want it anymore, baby?"

I froze.

The moans and murmurs from the other side of the door crashed over me like a tidal wave.

My grip tightened around my phone.

For a moment, I felt like I wasn’t even standing there, like I was outside my own body, trapped between a dream and reality.

My hands trembled and my legs felt weak.

I clutched the doorknob, trying to steady myself, but my heart kept shaking violently in my chest.

Naomi's POV

"Uncle, between me and Sis Naomi, who do you like more?"

So she knew about me. My chest tightened with rage, my lips curling into a bitter smile. I let go of the doorknob, waiting to hear how Wilbur would respond.

But it seemed like he didn't want to answer until Roxanne pressed again. "I remember Sis Naomi being pretty conservative. Is she as wild in bed as she acts all proper?"

At this moment, Wilbur’s breathing turned heavy. "That's not something you should be asking," he snapped.

Roxanne fell silent momentarily before whining, "Why are you being so mean to me?"

After a beat, his voice dropped into a cold, hard tone. "You don’t get to mention her name. Know your place. Understand?"

With a dissatisfied tone, she could only reply, "Ugh, fine. Just don’t stop."

My blood boiled and my hands trembled as I reached for the door—only to find it locked from the inside.

The inside suddenly fell quiet.

They had heard me.

"Who's out there?" Wilbur asked in a hoarse voice.

"Probably just a rat," Roxanne giggled. "This place hasn’t been cleaned in forever."

"Unless..." She laughed again, sharp and grating. "Could it be Sis Naomi?"

"It’s me," I said coldly from outside, which made her laughter cut off immediately.

Maybe my voice sounded raw from crying, or maybe they were simply guilty. Either way, the room fell into an eerie stillness.

After what felt like forever, the door finally creaked open.

Wilbur stood there, shirt rumpled, acting like nothing was wrong. He even smiled. "Naomi? What are you doing here?"

I looked him in the eye, my own rimmed red. Forcing a smirk, I said, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? Didn’t you say you’d be staying with your parents tonight? What’s wrong, is she your mom now?" I shot back, pointing at Roxanne, who was clutching the hem of his shirt behind him.

That’s when I finally saw her face—young, maybe in her early twenties, still carrying traces of childish innocence. Yet here she was, clinging onto the man I’d loved for six years.

Something inside me shattered.

Wilbur’s eyes were red too, and he grabbed my wrist. "Naomi, I’m sorry. Please, just give me a chance to explain."

I glanced at the faint love bites on Roxanne’s neck and let out a low chuckle. "Oh? Go ahead. I’d love to hear what kind of excuse you’ll come up with."

Sensing his distress, Roxanne rolled her eyes but quickly masked it with a sweet smile. She then took my arm and cooed, "Sis Naomi—oh wait, should I call you Auntie instead?"

Auntie? Just a second ago, she was calling me "Sis," and now she suddenly remembered my position in Wilbur's life?

Her voice dripped with innocence as she explained, "The thing is—I had a little too much to drink at a company party tonight, and I just happened to run into Uncle Wilbur on the way home. He was just being a gentleman and brought me here to rest. Auntie, I only just found out this used to be the place you two stayed. I’m really sorry about that."

But her apology wasn’t what made my stomach turn—it was the mocking glint in her eyes.

Like this was all just a game to her. Like cheating was nothing out of the ordinary.

Meanwhile, Wilbur nodded frantically, his gaze never leaving mine. "Naomi, we’ve been together for so many years. You know the kind of person I am. And Roxanne—she’s so much younger than me. She used to call me ‘Uncle’ growing up! How could I possibly—"

"Wilbur!" I cut him off, voice shaking with rage. "I stood outside that door for thirty goddamn minutes. Do you seriously think I didn’t hear everything?!"

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I had no more tears left to cry.

I exhaled sharply, my voice ice-cold. "We're done, Wilbur. Before tonight, I saw you as the most important person in my life. But what about you?"

Naomi's POV

As such, I turned to leave, but Wilbur grabbed my wrist and suddenly dropped to his knees with a loud thud.

Roxanne’s expression shifted the moment she saw him kneeling. Her brows knitted together, and before I could react, she shoved me hard. I had always been frail, and the force sent me stumbling straight into the doorframe. Pain shot through my entire body as I slammed into the wood.

“Naomi! Can’t you be more understanding? Wilbur is literally on his knees begging you—what else do you want?!” Roxanne scolded, crouching down to help him up as if she were the one wronged.

I blinked in surprise and disbelief.

Excuse me? Did she really just say that?

The audacity of a woman who knowingly got involved with someone else’s boyfriend, only to turn around and tell me—the actual girlfriend—that I’m being unreasonable? This was beyond ridiculous.

Wilbur shoved her hand away and scrambled toward me, his movements clumsy and frantic. He reached for my shoulder, the very same one that had just taken the brunt of my fall.

“Naomi, are you hurt? I’m so sorry… I should have protected you,” he said, his voice filled with guilt.

But I jerked away before his fingers could touch me. My bloodshot eyes locked onto his as I gritted out, “Don’t touch me with the same hands you just used on her.”

His face paled.

Ignoring it, I threw him one last, cold look and said with finality, “I never want to see you again.”

Then, without another word, I turned and walked away.

The moment I stepped outside the villa, I hesitated—just for a second. I had a gut feeling he would follow me, and sure enough when I glanced back, he was right there, trailing after me.

Fearing I might waver, I quickened my pace, climbed into my car, and slammed the door shut.

Right then, my phone rang. It was the hospital.

I took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in my throat, and answered. “Dr. Beck, is something wrong?” My voice still sounded hoarse.

Sounding urgent, the doctor replied, “Naomi, your grandmother just woke up. She’s been asking for you non-stop. If you’re done with whatever you were handling, please come back as soon as you can.”

“I’ll be right there. Thank you, Dr. Beck.”

By the time I arrived at the hospital, my grandmother was sitting up in bed, peeling an orange. The sight of her, so frail yet still trying to act strong, sent a wave of emotion crashing over me. I didn’t know whether I should tell her about my breakup with Wilbur.

To her, he was a dependable, good man—someone she had always believed I could entrust my future to. We were at the age where marriage was the next natural step, and I wasn’t sure how she would take it if I told her everything had fallen apart.

Maybe it was best to wait until she was feeling better.

Sensing me at the door, she waved me over impatiently. “Naomi, come here.”

I nodded, avoiding her gaze as I walked over and sat beside her. “Grandma, did you sleep well? Are you craving anything? I can go downstairs and buy you something.”

But before I could move, she grabbed my hand, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Naomi, my health is getting worse,” she said softly. “Dr. Beck already told me everything. It’s late-stage bone cancer. I don’t have much time left.”

My chest tightened.

“Grandma…” My voice cracked as tears spilled over. Without thinking, I buried my face against her shoulder, just like I used to when I was a child.

She gently stroked my hair. “All I want before I go is to see you and Wilbur get married. If I could witness that, I could leave this world peacefully.”

I stiffened. A lump formed in my throat as I looked up at her, torn between her last wish and my own future.

How could I possibly marry a man who had already betrayed me before the wedding?

Grandma studied my face and sighed. “Did you two have a fight?”

I frowned and asked back, “How did you know?”

She gave me a knowing look and revealed, “Wilbur called Dr. Beck earlier. He told me he upset you and that you probably didn’t want to see him right now. So, he asked me to talk to you on his behalf.”