Marrying my secret admirer after my husband's fake death novel Chapter 138

When Lauren heard Edith’s new husband was only a year older, relief finally washed over her. She’d been worrying that their aunt, in her distress over her uncle’s passing, had rushed Edith into marrying some much older man just to get things settled.

That was so like their aunt–and, in all fairness, just like Edith too. No matter how tough things got at home, neither of them ever wanted to ask family for help. Lauren and her mom had offered more than once, but Aunt Margaret always turned them down, again and again.

Her aunt always said, “Family bonds are precious–if you stretch them too thin, they’ll break.” Lauren would complain about how stubborn her aunt was, but her mother would simply say, “Everyone has their own way of handling things. If your aunt doesn’t want help, don’t force it. That’s how a relationship stays comfortable.”

Lauren glanced over. “So, besides me, who else thinks you married an old

man?”

Edith eased the car out of the parking garage, paid for the ticket, and merged onto the highway toward the airport. “Just the Vance family, really.”

Lauren’s lip curled. She’d never liked the Vances. “Of course. They’re probably making snide comments, aren’t they? Honestly, nobody in that family ever means well. The only halfway decent one was Beckett and

even he…”

She trailed off, realizing she probably shouldn’t bring him up.

Edith’s eyes flickered, but her voice was calm. “There’s not a single exception in the Vance family. They’re all the same.”

Lauren blinked in surprise, giving Edith a once–over. “Wait, what happened? You used to be head–over–heels for Beckett. Nobody was allowed to say a bad word about him.”

Edith let out a quiet laugh, her eyes filled with resignation and a hint of

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Chapter 138

mockery–anything but sadness. “Lauren, Beckett isn’t dead. It was his brother, Bennett, who died. Beckett just faked his death.”

Lauren stared, speechless. She knew her cousin–Edith would never make up something like this, especially about something so serious.

It was a full minute or two before Lauren found her voice again, disbelief still written all over her face. “Why would Beckett fake his own death?”

Edith fiddled with the car’s Bluetooth, hoping to put on some music for the long drive, but after a few failed attempts, she gave up. “Because I can’t have children, and the Vance family wanted an heir. So Beckett pretended to be his brother and went to Salome, hoping for a child.”

Lauren’s heart ached. For Edith to say something like that so calmly, she must have been through hell and back.

Now it made sense why Edith–who used to be so devoted and stubborn about love–could remarry so quickly.

“Disgusting!” Lauren spat. “There’s not a single decent human being in that family–they’re all monsters.”

She didn’t even have to ask; she already knew Beckett’s mother, who’d lost her own son, must have been in on it. It didn’t matter who came up with the plan–both of them were guilty.

Edith focused on the road. Northcrest was a big city, and she didn’t want

to miss her exit and have to circle back.

Night had fallen. Suddenly, Edith remembered she hadn’t told Latonia she’d be home for dinner. She’d better call; if she got back late, she’d feel bad asking the kitchen to whip something up just for her.

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