Stripper's Love: I Married My Ex's Uncle

Solene

"You're joking, right?" My voice trembles as I scan the paper in my hand. Petition for Divorce, the words scream at me in bold letters. My eyes suddenly fill with unshed tears as I look up at my husband.

He stands across the living room, with his arms crossed over his chest like a stranger. Not the man who once held me like I was his whole world.

"It's over," he says flatly.

It's over. The words echo in my head. They sting worse than the slaps my drunk father used to give me.

"No..." I whisper, more to myself. My breath feels forced. "I can't believe this. Rowan, what is this?" I ask with a shaky voice as I clutch the paper.

"Exactly what it looks like," he snaps, with a tight jaw.

"But... why? I'm your wife," I say.

"You should have thought about that before spreading your legs for someone else," he says, and tosses a manila envelope onto the table.

It lands with a thud, slides open. Photos spill out like poison.

I stagger back and sink onto the couch. My fingers shake as I pick one up-and my breath catches. It's a picture of me. In bed. With a man I don't know.

"No... no, this isn't me," I murmur, shaking my head as I scan every detail. "These are fake, Rowan. This can't be real. Look!" I hold one up, pointing. "I lost that bracelete two years ago. These have to be doctored!"

"I have seen the evidence," he growls. "I ignored it. Over and over. But now? It's undeniable. You're just a stripper who fooled me into thinking she changed."

Tears stream down my face as I drop to my knees. My hand reaches out for his leg, I just wish he can look at me.

"Rowan, please. You know me. You know I'd never do this to you."

He yanks his leg away like I burned him. His face is stone.

"My mother warned me. She said you were after a meal ticket, and I.. God... I should have listened."

"You didn't say that when you were defending me at our wedding," I snapped through my tears. "You promised I was different. You said you believed in me. What changed, Rowan? Her words? Or the lies in that envelope?"

He hesitates, just for a second. His eyes flicker. Then, just as quickly, he shuts it down.

"Don't." He slams his fist into his open palm. "You fooled me once. That's on you. But I won't be fooled again."

I was once a stripper. Not by choice.

I become one to pay my mum's hospital bills, cover my dad's gambling debts, and put my brother through school. I dance every night for strangers, fake smiles painted on my face while I try to hold back tears.

Some nights, I'm nearly raped. Some nights, I get groped or spat on. But I always come back alive.

Then comes the light at the end of the tunnel-Rowan.

He pays off everything. He buys the club and pulls me out. I thought he saved me. I thought... Maybe this is what love looks like.

And I am grateful. But Rowan never lets me forget. Every chance he gets, he throws it in my face. He reminds me I'm his project. That I owe him.

Still, I stay. I cook. I clean. I smile. I love him. Wholeheartedly. For two years.

I stare at him now, with my heart crawling into my throat.

"Where did I go wrong?" I whisper, with a shaky voice. "I give up everything for you. My dreams, my dignity. Just to be the wife you said you wanted."

Rowan scoffs, his eyes sharp. "Oh, shut the fuck up. I'm not your rehab, Solene. I was your escape plan."

His words slam into me.

I drop to my knees and crawl toward him. "Please, Rowan... don't do this. I have nothing left. My mum's hospital bills are still piling up. You're the only reason she's getting treatment. Where do I even start from if you leave me now?"

He shakes his leg violently away from my grip.

"Don't fucking touch me with your filthy hands," he growls.

I flinch and stare at my trembling hands.

"Filthy?" I whisper. "You didn't find them filthy when you made love to me. Every night."

"Do you think I touched you because I care?" he spits. "Hell no. You were supposed to give me a child. But no, you can't even do that. God knows how many abortions you had before I found you."

My heart shatters.

"You know what?" he continues. "A woman like you doesn't deserve to be a mother."

I try to breathe, but I can't. The air won't come.

I press my hands against the floor to steady myself, but they shake too much.

"I lost one child," I whisper, with a shaky breath. "And it still haunts me."

He doesn't flinch.

I look up at the man I thought rescued me.

"What would you do if I got pregnant for you?" I whisper. I already know the answer will hurt.

"I would never let you raise my heir. My mother would have raised him," he says coldly. Then, without looking back, he stomps out of the room.

I stare at him as he walks away, my mouth open, trembling.

Tears blur my vision.

With shaking hands, I crawl with my knees toward the photo on the floor.

They're forged pictures of me In bed With a man I've never seen before.

"This isn't me," I whisper, tears streaming down my face.

I reached for the divorce agreement. My fingers tremble as I flip it open. His signature is already there.

Next to mine.

But I never sign anything.

Of course Rowan would make sure I had no voice, no chance to fight this legally.

I stare down at the paper, my hands still shaking.

A sob rises from deep in my chest. I try to hold it in, but it bursts out-raw and loud, echoing through the room.

---

I know I can't hold on to what's already lost.

I curl into the side of the bed, tears streaming down my face. But I won't let this destroy me.

Slowly, I rise to my feet and push open the door.

Marcella is just about to knock.

She is the definition of a mother-in-law from hell. She throws insults at me every chance she gets, controls my access to money, and threatens to cut off my mother's medical care. I've lost count of how many times she's called me infertile.

She smiles coldly. That smile tells me everything. All of this is her doing.

"The company handover is today," she says, with a cool but underneath the voice you could feel an edge to it. "You'll wear your best and smile at the cameras like everything is perfect between you and Rowan."

She stares me down like I'm nothing but dirt under her heels.

"He wasn't supposed to give you the divorce papers today," she adds with a sigh, casually tracing her fingers over the pearls on her neck. "But gosh my son thinks through his anus sometimes."

I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms. So even the timing of my heartbreak is part of her plan.

"But you'll play your role," she says, with a tight voice. "Because if you don't, I'll make one call, and your mother's treatment ends tonight."

I suck in a breath, but my lungs feel tight.

I want to slap that smug look off her face. I want to scream. But I can't, not with my mother's life hanging on a single thread she holds.

I learned long ago, no one crosses her and walks away untouched.

"I'll be ready in five minutes," I whisper, with a hollow voice.

She says nothing. Just smirks and walks off like she owns the world.

I turn back into my room, shutting the door softly behind me.

They want me at the ceremony so I can smile, pose, and play the perfect wife one last time.

But I feel it in my bones-this isn't just about saving face.

Something else is coming.