Your Uncle’s My Husband Now Back Off, Ex! novel Chapter 7

**TITLE: Through Unseen Doors We Step Into Untold Worlds Beyond by Sage Hunter Lane**

Nyla pivoted to face Clark, her gaze chillingly devoid of the warmth that usually radiated from her eyes. “It doesn’t taste the same anymore,” she declared, her voice eerily composed, yet it sent an icy shiver cascading through Clark’s entire being.

In an instinctive response, he rushed to her side, wrapping her in his arms, desperate to convey a sense of solace. “Baby, perhaps this bakery has changed their recipe,” he suggested, his voice laced with concern. “I’ll call them tomorrow and find out. Whatever it takes, I will ensure they recreate that taste—exactly as it was.”

But Nyla remained stiff in his embrace, her body a fortress of resistance. “Things change, Clark. Once they change, you can’t go back,” she replied, her tone unwavering. Each syllable felt like a shard of ice piercing through Clark’s heart, and he sensed that her words transcended the realm of cake. She was alluding to them—an unspoken rift that seemed to widen with every passing moment.

Panic surged within him, clawing at his insides. Just then, his phone rang, the sound slicing through the heavy silence that enveloped them. Clark glanced at the caller ID, and his complexion drained of color.

Nyla noticed the shift in his expression, and her disappointment deepened, casting a shadow over her features. “I… I need to take this call,” Clark stammered, the urgency in his voice palpable. “There’s an emergency at work.”

Without turning back, Nyla dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Go ahead. Work is important,” she said, her voice devoid of inflection.

Clark stood there for a moment, paralyzed by the choice before him. The phone buzzed insistently in his hand, and finally, he made his decision, stepping toward the door with a heavy heart.

As he moved into the hallway, Nyla could hear him speaking through the thin walls. “Jordyn, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick? I’ll be right there…” His voice gradually faded, leaving Nyla alone in the living room, the silence closing in around her like a suffocating shroud.

She stared blankly at the stark white walls, feeling as if they were slowly constricting around her, each breath becoming a laborious effort.

Twenty minutes later, her phone buzzed again, jolting her from her thoughts. The number was unfamiliar, but she answered it nonetheless, curiosity piquing her interest.

“Mrs. Summer, I hope I’m not interrupting,” came Jordyn’s saccharine voice, dripping with false sweetness. “I’m not feeling well, so I borrowed Clark from you tonight. He came without hesitation when I called. He said nothing was more important than making sure I was okay.”

Nyla’s grip tightened around the phone, her heart racing, yet she remained silent, unwilling to give voice to the turmoil within.

Jordyn continued, her tone laced with satisfaction. “You know what Clark told me today? He said I’m younger and prettier than you. He said I can give him something you never could—a child. He mentioned that you haven’t been able to conceive in three years. He’s worried there might be something wrong with your body.”

The words hung in the air like a dark cloud, suffocating and oppressive.

“And that strawberry mousse cake you threw away today?” Jordyn’s voice turned mocking, each word a dagger. “Clark buys me that same cake all the time. He says sweet treats are perfect for sweet girls. Don’t you think it tastes sweet, Mrs. Summer?”

The call ended with Jordyn’s cruel laughter echoing in Nyla’s ears, leaving her in a void of despair.

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