While My Husband Cheated I Married His Powerful Brother novel Chapter 92

Chapter 92: Chapter 92 What You Called Love

Caspian’s words hung in the air.

Stay away from Xiomara. Stay away from her family. Whatever you’re planning, leave them out of it.

Veyra’s hand tightened around the water glass. The flat bubbles left a faint metallic taste on her tongue.

She did not speak. She did not move.

But something shifted behind her eyes.

Three years ago.

She had been twenty‑three. Her grandmother had just died. The old woman had raised her alone after her mother passed. The funeral was small. Three people came. Veyra had paid for the cremation with money she had saved from working double shifts at the coffee shop.

Two weeks later, the Solenne family summoned her. Her father, Peter, sat behind a large desk. Her stepmother, Margaret, stood beside him. Yvette, her half‑sister, leaned against the doorframe, smirking.

“You’re dropping out of school,” Peter said. “We can’t afford to keep you.”

“I have scholarships,” Veyra had said.

“Not enough. You need to work. Full time.”

She had argued. Begged. Cried. It did not matter.

She left the family home that night with a single suitcase and forty‑three dollar in her pocket.

She met Caspian three days later.

He was standing outside the convenience store where she had bought a packet of instant noodles.

“You dropped your receipt,” he said.

She had not dropped anything. But she took the receipt anyway.

He asked her name. She told him. He smiled, that smile had felt like sunlight after weeks of rain.

He paid for her groceries. He drove her home. He listened to her talk about her grandmother, about her mother, about the family that had thrown her away.

For six months, he was everything. He called her every morning. He brought her flowers. He told her she was smart, beautiful, and worthy.

She had believed him.

The memory pressed against her ribs. Sharp. Cold.

She pressed her palm flat on the table. The lizard skin of the glove squeaked against the white cloth.

She forced the images down. The flowers. The car rides. The way he had looked at her like she was the only person in the room.

She lifted her chin.

Her face was calm again. The turmoil stayed buried.

“Caspian,” she said.

He stopped. He had been half‑turned away, ready to walk back to his table.

She looked at him. Straight on.

“Why did you betray me?”

His mouth opened. Closed. He blinked.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

He stared at her. His expression softened. Almost imperceptibly.

“You still care,” he said.

He stepped closer. His hand reached for her shoulder.

She did not pull away. She wanted to see what he would do.

“That day,” he said, “it was a misunderstanding. Xiomara and I—there’s nothing between us. Not really.”

Veyra said nothing.

“She threw herself at me. I was weak. But it didn’t mean anything.”

His fingers pressed into her shoulder. His grip was too firm.

“I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Veyra looked at his hand on her shoulder. Then at his face.

The same face that had smiled at her outside the convenience store. The same face that had lied to her for seven years.

She shook her head.

“You don’t have to argue,” she said. “I’m not asking for an apology.”

Caspian’s brow furrowed.

“Then what are you asking for?”

She tilted her head. Her voice was quiet.

“Did you pursue Xiomara because she was the top‑scoring student in the national college entrance exams? Or because she was Professor Sterling’s protégé?”

Caspian’s hand slipped from her shoulder. His face went pale. Then red. “How do you know about that?”

“I know a lot of things.”

He looked away. His jaw worked. His throat moved as he swallowed.

For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then his shoulders sagged. He looked at the floor. At the table. At his own shoes.

“Three years ago,” he said, “I did love you. I didn’t look down on you because you dropped out of school. I never cared about that.”

Veyra waited.

“But my family...” He stopped. Started again. “They wouldn’t approve. They said you weren’t good enough. That I was throwing away my future for a girl with no connections, no money, no pedigree.”

His voice dropped.

“I tried to fight them. For a while. But they kept pushing. Kept introducing me to other women. And then Xiomara came along. And she had everything they wanted.”

Veyra studied his face.

The shame. The regret. The way his eyes avoided hers. She did not feel sorry for him.

“You could have told me,” she said. “You could have broken up with me honestly.”

He did not answer.

Caspian pulled out the chair across from her and sat down again.

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