He Ran Away with His Secretary,I Ran Into His Uncle's Arms

Three years into my marriage, my ex-boyfriend rose from the dead and showed up at my door.

He looked around the house I'd kept in perfect order, nodding with satisfaction.

Susie, I only faked my death to teach you a lesson. You shouldn't have slapped that girl.

She's over it now, and I've had my fun. Time to settle down and marry you.

Paul Delgado and I had been childhood sweethearts. When we grew up, he voluntarily surrendered his family shares as a show of devotion and proposed.

But the night before our wedding, I caught him in bed with another woman.

I tore apart every last decoration in the bridal suite like a woman possessed, then slapped the girl so hard her head snapped to the side.

Paul dropped to his knees at my feet, swearing he'd been drunk and mistaken her for me.

He rushed to send the girl out of the country, but on the way to the airport, his car went off a cliff. They never recovered a body.

After Paul died, I blamed myself for pushing the fight. I spiraled until I broke completely.

I swallowed pills. I jumped off a building. I tried every way I could think of to end myself as penance.

But the year after I'd begun mourning him like a widow, I spotted his face in a travel blog post.

Standing beside him was Amber Cole, his curvy little secretary.

In that instant, every last shred of love I had for him evaporated to zero.

I lifted my gaze to Paul now and let out a cold laugh.

What made you think I'd wait for you? I've been married for years.

My phone buzzed. A photo from Douglas Delgado.

We landed safe, sweetheart. Me and our little one.

Looking at my daughter's beaming face nestled in his arms, I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at my lips.

Paul leaned over to peek at the screen.

I killed the display immediately, brows drawing together in irritation.

But his expression only softened, a flicker of tenderness crossing his features.

Susie, once we're married, we'll have a daughter even cuter than that.

Acid surged up my throat. I stepped back, putting distance between us.

Stay away from me. You and I have nothing to do with each other anymore.

Paul assumed I was still angry. He smiled, indulgent and patronizing.

Okay, okay, okay. How about a blueberry cake? Will that make it better?

I frowned. Maybe that fall off the cliff really had knocked something loose in his head.

If he'd spent five seconds online before waltzing back home, he'd know I'd married his uncle Douglas. That made me his aunt by marriage.

Paul waved his phone at me, inching closer.

I ordered you a double portion. Surely that's enough to make up for it.

Back when we were together, Paul's go-to peace offering after every fight was a blueberry cake.

The fights always started the same way: I'd get upset that he was clueless about romance, that he never once planned a surprise for me.

Yet he remembered Amber's birthday without fail. On the day itself, he'd send her the latest from every luxury brand and nine hundred and ninety-nine red roses.

Amber would post photos on social media and tag me specifically.

Don't get the wrong idea, Susie! Mr. Delgado and I are just friends.

When I confronted Paul, he knelt on a washboard with wide, innocent eyes and held up three fingers in a solemn vow.

Susie, there is nothing going on between us.

I just happened to find her crying in the stairwell. Turns out the other staff were bullying her.

The gifts were my way of putting those people in their place. That's all.

He knelt on that washboard all night to prove his loyalty, then bought the bestselling blueberry cake from the nearest bakery as an apology.

I saw the dark circles bruising the skin beneath his eyes and my heart softened. I forgave him.

Thinking back on it now, I almost wanted to laugh.

How had I been so blind to what was going on between Paul and his little secretary?

Over a decade, wasted on him.

The blueberry cake arrived quickly. Paul presented it to me with both hands, eager to please.

I stared at him, my voice flat and quiet.

You never noticed I'm allergic to blueberries?

The last time I'd eaten one of those cakes, the pain in my stomach had been unbearable. I'd spent the whole night doubled over, throwing up and worse.

Paul rushed me to the hospital in a panic, but the moment he got a tearful phone call from Amber, he left me half-conscious and alone in a hospital corridor.

If a nurse on duty hadn't found me, I probably would have gone into shock and died.

Guilt flickered through Paul's eyes. He immediately tossed the blueberry cake into the trash.

He looked at me, eager to make amends.

What do you want to eat, then? I'll get you anything.

A burning smell drifted from the kitchen, and my brow twitched.

I rushed over to turn off the stove under the seafood chowder.

Paul followed me in, his smile widening.

He pulled me firmly into his arms, resting his chin on my shoulder.

Still playing hard to get, pretending you're mad at me. You even made my favorite seafood chowder.

Paul had a weak stomach.

To nurse it back to health, I'd enrolled in a medicinal cooking class.

A pampered heiress who'd never so much as washed a dish, and I'd willingly tied on an apron for him. I practically lived in that kitchen, pouring every hour into perfecting my craft.

Every time he came home drunk from a business dinner, he'd wheedle me into making him a pot of seafood chowder.

Prepping the shellfish was tedious work. My hands were always covered in cuts by the time I finished.

Paul would coo over my bleeding fingers one second, then pick up the phone the next to invite Amber over to taste my cooking.

He'd even reserved a room for Amber in what was supposed to be our home after the wedding.

When I got angry and threatened to call off the engagement, Amber's eyes turned red on cue, tears spilling prettily down her cheeks.

Please don't be upset with Paul because of me, Miss Fox. It's all my fault.

If only I could hold my liquor better, Paul wouldn't have to bother driving me home, and he wouldn't have to set aside a room for me to rest.

She called the home I had poured my heart into decorating a "room to rest." A calculated little jab, reminding me exactly how special Paul's treatment of her was.

That time, Paul and I nearly broke up for good.

He shipped Amber overseas as fast as he could and swore she would never be an eyesore to me again.

That same day, Paul was in a car accident. They never recovered a body.

The Delgado family blamed me. Called me a curse.

They wailed that if I hadn't thrown my little heiress tantrum, Paul would still be alive.

The guilt sent me spiraling into severe depression. Anything connected to Paul triggered episodes where I would hurt myself without even realizing it.

Three years. Sixteen times I slit my wrists.

My fingers traced the scars lining the inside of my wrist. I wrenched free of Paul's grip.

This wasn't made for you.

Paul, let me say this one more time. There is nothing between us. Not anymore.

He raised an eyebrow and smiled, reaching over to tap the tip of my nose with a curled finger.

Come on, my darling Miss Fox. No matter how angry you are, you can't just pretend our engagement never existed.

Besides, if we really have nothing to do with each other, why are you living in the Delgado mansion?

I scoffed, about to explain that Paul was the outsider in this house.

But the butler hurried into the room before I could.

Ma'am, the wedding gowns have arrived. Would you like to come take a look?

Raymond Finch looked up and froze when he noticed Paul.

Young Master, when did you get back?

Paul greeted him with easy familiarity.

Mr. Finch, long time no see.

He didn't so much as register the stiffness on the butler's face before turning back to tease me.

Susie, did you already know I was coming back?

You even had the wedding gowns delivered ahead of time.

After the ceremony, let's go to Norway to see the Northern Lights.

I went still. Norway. The Northern Lights. That was supposed to have been our graduation trip.

But the moment we graduated, Paul's father pulled him into the company.

We had no choice but to postpone.

Yet all it took was a single late-night text from Amber: I wish I could see the Northern Lights.

And he staged his own death, whisked her off to chase the aurora, and traveled half the world with her.

While I'd been drowning in guilt over Paul's death, he was off watching elephants in Africa with Amber, rowing boats in Italy, kissing her under the Eiffel Tower

A familiar figure appeared in the doorway. Paul reacted faster than I did, rushing over and pulling her into a tight embrace.

Mom, I've missed you so much all these years.

Zoe Delgado slipped a black card into my hand when no one was looking. She gripped my fingers, leaned close to my ear, and whispered.

Susan, I haven't seen Paul in five years.

Even if he's been expelled from the family, he's still my flesh and blood. Please, I'm begging you, just let him stay a little while longer.

After Paul's faked death was exposed, my parents had stormed straight to the Delgado mansion to demand justice for me.

They made it clear: if the Delgados couldn't offer a satisfactory resolution, the Fox family would pull every cent of its investment.

Old Mr. Delgado, terrified of shaking the family's foundation, immediately asked if I'd be willing to marry his youngest son and become the sole mistress of the Delgado household.

With both families' interests at stake, I didn't refuse.

So I married Douglas Delgado. Not only did I gain control of the Delgado estate, I also received Paul's shares.

Zoe's eyes were wet with tears, terrified I'd say no.

I thought of Daisy, and something in me softened for this mother standing before me. I nodded.

Fine.

Zoe broke into a tearful smile and threw her arms around me.

I patted her back gently.

Paul walked over to us, confusion creasing his brow.

I was only gone five years. When did you two become so close?

There was a time when Zoe genuinely couldn't stand me.

She'd already handpicked a wife for Paul herself: her best friend's youngest daughter, pretty, sharp, and well-mannered.

But right when they were about to settle the engagement, Paul suddenly brought me home and declared he'd marry no one else in this lifetime.

Zoe grabbed the nearest teacup and hurled it at his forehead.

Paul didn't even flinch. Blood ran down his face.

She called for the first-aid kit, her heart aching despite her fury. Paul coldly shook off her hand and planted himself in front of me like a wall.

Mom, I love Susie.

She's the only wife I'll ever have. If you want a different daughter-in-law, you and Dad better try for another son.

Zoe clenched her teeth and relented.

But every time Paul brought me home after that, she'd either have me kneading her shoulders and massaging her legs, or make me learn to dress Paul and serve his meals. She found every way she could to wear me down.

Mentioning the past, Zoe shot me an awkward little smile.

While I was distracted, Paul grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door, speaking as though he were the most devoted man alive.

Susie, since my mom's already accepted you, let's pick out a wedding gown and get married as soon as possible.

I frowned and tried to wrench free, but his grip wouldn't budge.

Zoe went white. She scrambled after us.

Paul Delgado, you let go of her right now!

But Paul wasn't listening. He shoved me straight into a fitting room.

He pinned both my wrists above my head and leaned in, his lips grazing my neck.

Susie, do you remember? When we got engaged, you said you wanted me to put the wedding dress on you with my own hands. Lift the veil myself.

Nowwe finally have the chance.

Cold air hit my chest. Paul was ripping my buttons open.

I thrashed against him with everything I had, but he didn't move an inch.

Let go of me! If you don't stop right now, I swear Douglas will have your hands cut off.

Paul froze. His fingers went still.

Why are you throwing my uncle's name at me? You know I can't stand him.

Outside the door, Zoe pounded on it like a woman possessed, her voice shaking beyond her control.

You ungrateful brat! Let go of Susan right now, or when Douglas gets home, he will skin you alive.

Paul let out an irritated growl.

Stop using my uncle to threaten me. I'm helping my fiance change clothes. What family rule does that break? What right does he have to tell me what to do?

I fixed my eyes on Paul, every word deliberate.

I'm your uncle's wife.

A scornful laugh came from above my head.

Paul leaned into my neck, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger.

Susie, if you're going to lie to make me jealous, at least come up with a better excuse.

Everyone knows my uncle has zero interest in women. Thirty years single and he's never so much as looked at anyone.

He kissed the side of my face. I recoiled, skin crawling.

Zoe screamed for the servants to break down the door, ready to tear Paul apart with her bare hands.

You bastard! You really are going to destroy me and your father!

Open this door right now and let go of your aunt!

Paul's brows knotted together, then smoothed out, as if something had just clicked into place.

He forced his fingers through mine, lacing them tight, his tone the kind you'd use on a frightened child.

Susie, I know you probably haven't accepted the fact that I'm alive yet.

I swear I'll love you even more than before.

Listening to Paul's self-congratulatory tenderness, acid churned in my stomach.

Drop the act! You were never in any car accident. You faked your death so you could run off and travel the world with your secretary.

What made you think I'd just wait around for you? Paul, I'm married.

Paul's eyes shot up in disbelief, his grip on my hand tightening until the bones ground together.

The pain forced tears out of me.

He wiped them away gently, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

Susie, it's not what you think.

I laughed, cold and bitter, and wrenched my hand free.

The tears came anyway, flooding out for reasons I couldn't name.

After I heard about your accident, I tried to kill myself.

Every single night I couldn't sleep. All I saw was you, covered in blood.

I blamed myself. If I hadn't made you send Amber away, you never would've been in that crash.

My nose burned. I shouldn't still hurt over this. I knew that.

But I couldn't stop myself from ripping that sickening mask of devotion right off his face.

Paul saw my tears and lost whatever composure he had left. He let go of my hand immediately.

He pulled me into a clumsy, desperate embrace, his voice raw.

I'm sorry, Susie. But I'm back now, aren't I?

I came back to marry you. I promise I'll give you a happy future.

I laughed through my tears, shoved him off me, and said it one final time.

Paul, I am married.

Nobody waits in the same spot forever.

Paul grabbed my arm regardless and yanked, tearing my blouse apart.

Bare skin hit the cold air and I shuddered.

He snatched up the wedding dress beside him and held it against me.

Susie, what about this one?

I looked down, too exhausted to reason with a wall.

Paul's gaze froze, landing on the faint stretch marks across my stomach.

His voice broke. His fingers slipped from my arm without him even realizing it.

What are those?

Outside, Zoe was already pacing in frantic circles, screaming herself hoarse trying to talk sense into her son.

Disrespecting an elder is one of the highest offenses under family punishment. Do you want to face discipline the moment you set foot back in this house?

The door shook violently on its hinges. Just before the servants broke through, I shook off Paul, who was standing there blank and hollow, and pulled my clothes back into place.

Zoe charged in the second the door gave way and slapped Paul so hard blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

At the same moment, a car horn sounded from the driveway.

Douglas appeared carrying an iron whip lined with barbs.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and fixed Paul with a stare so cold it could have been aimed at a corpse.

You've been bullying my wife?