MARRIED TO MY EX-HUSBAND SINGLE DADDY UNCLE

~BRENDA~

“Where can we hide her body after we kill her?”

My sister’s voice drifted through the trees, calm and casual, as though she were discussing nothing more important than the weather.

I stopped walking to pay attention, wondering what they could be talking about.

The trail had narrowed, and I had fallen behind to catch my breath, eight months pregnant, my ankles were badly swollen, and every step sent a dull, throbbing ache up through my calves.

The camping trip had been Sophia’s idea. She had begged for weeks, promising that the fresh air would be good for the baby.

She complained about how Alexandre had never really spent time with nature, and how it would be fun for all of us.

With how she begged, one would think Alexandre was her husband and not mine.

I had taken leave from work, packed all the bags while they lounged around doing nothing, I even made the sandwiches, and sat in the backseat of my own car while my sister rode with her hand resting comfortably on my husband’s thigh.

I convinced myself I was imagining things even now as they spoke of a dead body.

But hearing it again made me realize.

“After we kill her?”

My feet came to a sudden halt and I stopped walking entirely. I strained to listen, wondering if my ears had betrayed me.

The forest had gone unnaturally quiet, with no birds, no wind, only the frantic pounding of my own heartbeat.

“Why here?” Alexandre asked. “It’s too close to the road.”

“Exactly why, it is better,” Sophia replied. Their voices grew clearer as they walked back in my direction. “We’ll say she wandered off and got lost. Pregnant women get confused and emotional. The police won’t look too hard.”

“But we need to make sure no one finds the body.”

“Obviously. I noticed a ravine past the clearing. We will roll her down, and cover her with branches, thereafter we will come back in a few months.”

My hand instinctively pressed against my stomach, and the baby kicked again, strong and alive inside me.

That was all the prompting I needed.

I turned and began to run as fast as my swollen, eight-months-pregnant body would allow.

Branches scratched against my arms, roots caught at my shoes, and tears blurred my vision. Why? Just why would they do this?

“Brenda?” Alexandre’s voice called out behind me.

“Shit,” Sophia hissed. “Go after her. Don’t let her reach the road.”

The car engine roared to life.

I didn’t look back. I cursed myself and tried to run faster. I bought that car. I had made the payments while Alexandre stayed home and spun stories about how his startup would take off any day, all while my money kept us afloat.

The sound of the engine grew closer. The trail was too narrow for a car, but that didn’t matter to them.

They wanted me dead. He would drive through the trees, crush the brush, and run me over like a deer.

As I ran, memories flashed through my mind, the three years my older sister had spent in our house, always touching him, always laughing at jokes I never quite heard.

Sophia had moved in with us for six months after her divorce. She slept on our couch, ate our food, and wore my clothes.

I had never said a word, I had been a good sister. And this was what it had brought me.

The engine roared again, now only twenty feet behind me, maybe less.

Another memory flashes forward, it was my third anniversary. I had left work early, stopped at a lingerie boutique, and bought champagne and roses.

When I walked into our bedroom, I found Sophia locked up in my sheets with her legs wrapped around my husband.

My mind had gone numb then but Alexandre had laughed and told me I was overthinking things.

He took the roses from my hand, kissed my forehead, and Sophia had smiled from the bed, still half-naked, saying I was lucky to have him, sis.

I had believed them and even went to the kitchen to make dinner, served them both, and cleaned the dishes afterward.

Fuck! I had been a good wife.

Now the car was right behind me. I could feel the heat of the engine against my back.

I tried to push harder, but my body refused. My lungs burned, my legs screamed in protest, and the baby pressed low and heavy in my pelvis, suddenly painful.

The trail ended abruptly. An empty road stretched ahead with no cars, no houses, no help in sight.

I stepped onto the pavement as the headlights flooded over my back.

I ran down the middle of the road, my shadow stretching long in front of me.

The roar of the engine kept swallowing every other sound that I opened my mouth to make.

I reached out for my phone but I remembered my phone was in Sophia’s pocket.

I couldn’t call Riley. I couldn’t call anyone. I was completely alone on this deserted road, with my husband’s bumper closing the distance.

I looked left and right. There were no turns, no driveways, no trees close enough to offer shelter.

So I kept running anyway. But it was already too late.

The car struck me from behind and my legs gave out. My body rolled onto the hood, and my face slammed into the windshield.

The glass cracked beneath the impact. For one terrible second, I stared through the spiderweb of fractures and saw Alexandre behind the wheel.

He was smiling. The car stopped and my body slid off the hood and crumpled onto the pavement.

I felt nothing, that was the worst part. My mind had already begun to detach from my body. I watched from above as my leg bent at an unnatural angle.

I felt blood pool beneath my head. I felt my stomach move one final time.

My baby kicked and then stopped.

Sophia stepped out of the passenger side and walked around the car. She stood over me and gently tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Goodbye, sister,” she said softly. “I’ll take good care of your husband for you. My baby is grateful to her aunt for this sacrifice. Thank you for the insurance money.”

Alexandre got out next. He put his arm around her waist and looked down at me like I was nothing more than trash on the side of the road.

“I should have done this years ago,” he told Sophia and then he kissed her.

I wanted to beg. I wanted answers. I wanted to scream for someone to save my baby.

My mouth opened, but my throat had already closed and nothing came out.

My eyes remained fixed on the sky. The clouds drifted slowly overhead as the sun began to set.

I’m so sorry, I whispered inside my mind. I’m so sorry, little one. Your mother was a fool. Your mother trusted the wrong people. Your mother should have protected you.

The darkness crept in from the edges of my vision, closing inward like a curtain being drawn.

I let it take me.

I opened my eyes, however instead of Hade's door, I was standing in my kitchen, the one I had shared with Alexandre.

The counters were spotless while the white curtains hung neatly at the windows.

The coffee maker was brewing, filling the air with its familiar aroma.

I looked down at my hands but there was no blood. No baby bump and no broken bones.

When I caught my reflection in the microwave door, my face looked younger, smoother, free of the dark circles and worry lines that had once marked it. My body felt light.

A calendar hung on the refrigerator. I walked toward it on legs that no longer ached.

The date read March 11th, 2024. Three years earlier.

What was happening? For a moment I wondered if this was the afterlife and if I was being punished by having to relive this particular day.

“Hello?” My voice echoed strangely in the kitchen. “What is happening?”

A sharp pain sliced through my head and then a realization hit me: dead people shouldn’t feel pain.

If I wasn’t dead, then what was I? Alive again?

I looked down at my hands once more. They were not empty anymore.

One held a cold bottle of champagne, the other a bouquet of roses.

I remembered this day clearly. Today is my third anniversary, the day I had come home early to surprise Alexandre, the very day I will Sophia in my bed.

The front door stood open. From upstairs I could hear the unmistakable sounds of pleasure—a woman’s moan, and a man’s deep groan.

“Right there, Sophia. Don’t stop.”

I stood in my kitchen, champagne and roses in hand, my mind struggling to make sense of everything. But whatever force had brought me back, one thing was certain: I would make those two lying bastards pay.

Whether this was the underworld, another universe, or some impossible second chance, Sophia and Alexandre would finally know the fury of a grieving mother.