Seducing My Ex-boyfriend's Dad

CHAPTER 1 ANGIE's POV; "You’re getting quite fat, aren’t you, Angie? Your body has changed so much. Look at those rolls—they're practically in three layers. You should go on a proper diet so your boyfriend doesn't leave you for a sexier woman," my aunt remarked as she passed by the table where I sat eating. She was the kind of aunt who was brutally blunt. Whatever she saw, she said, never bothering to hold her tongue. I was currently at a wedding reception; I had received an invitation from my cousin, who had just married her American husband. But here was my aunt, immediately targeting me and criticizing my weight, which had nearly doubled recently. "What can I do, Auntie? Eating is one of life’s pleasures. Besides, I don’t think my boyfriend would ever leave me... I’m sure Mark loves me. I know him, Auntie. He’s not the type of man to cheat or get bored easily," I replied, trying to defend my boyfriend. Her message stung. She was implying that I was easily replaceable just because of my size. I couldn't help but talk back just to get her to stop commenting on my life. "I’m just advising you, Angie. Men are different these days. They want a woman with a nice figure. But in your current state, your curves are gone, buried under all that fat," she added, doubling down on the body shaming. I stopped eating and managed a bitter smile as I set down my fork. It was a clear sign that I had lost my appetite. Who could enjoy a meal with someone like her sitting across from them? "As I said, Auntie... you’re right. You really have a point. Being fat is unbecoming for a woman. So, excuse me, I’ll just head home. I don’t think I belong at this kind of occasion," I replied sarcastically as I stood up to take my leave. Instead of enjoying the wedding reception and the food, my mood had quickly soured into irritation. I didn't bother looking back at her as I walked out of the venue. I wasn't sure where I was going. The reception was far from home, so I needed to catch a jeepney or a bus to get back. Since it was late, there were quite a few passengers waiting for a ride. I decided to call my boyfriend to pick me up. Mark had a car—not to brag, but he came from a wealthy family. You could tell by the way he dressed and the stories he told; he definitely lived a comfortable life. I dialed Mark's number, but it rang several times without an answer. I decided not to pester him, thinking he might still be busy. It crossed my mind that he might be working on something for our upcoming anniversary. Yes, Mark and I had been together for almost a year. The day after tomorrow would be our first anniversary. That was why he hadn't joined me at my cousin’s wedding; he mentioned he had a lot on his plate. I figured he was planning a surprise for me. With no other choice, I lined up to wait for a ride. I chose not to bother him again, certain he was exhausted from whatever he was working on. When the jeepney arrived, I took the front seat next to the driver. Because of my size, I took up a lot of space, and no one tried to sit next to me. However, I paid for two seats so the driver wouldn't lose any money. During the commute, I kept glancing out the window at the passing cars to keep myself from falling asleep. As the driver sped along, my attention was caught by a red car parked on the side of the road. Inside, a man appeared to be kissing someone. My heart began to race. I recognized that car—it was the same color as Mark’s, and it even had a rosary hanging from the rearview mirror. I was about to ask the driver to stop, but he was moving too fast, and we were quickly distanced from the red car. I took a deep breath and lightly tapped my cheeks, trying to convince myself that my eyes were playing tricks on me. It was impossible for that to be Mark kissing another woman. Mark wouldn't cheat on me; I could feel how much he truly loved me. "It wasn’t him, Angie... don’t think the worst of your boyfriend. He’s loyal, remember? Besides, he isn’t the only person with a car like that," my mind whispered, trying to stop the overthinking. When I finally got off the jeepney, I walked straight to our house. I didn't hesitate to go inside; my mind was a mess. Irritation, doubt, and confusion were swirling in my head after everything that had happened today. "I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow, child? Is Celine’s wedding over? How was the venue? Was it grand?" my mother asked in a flurry of questions the moment she saw me. My mother hadn't attended the wedding because she could no longer walk. She used a wheelchair to get around the house. "The venue was beautiful, Ma. Very high-end. Celine’s husband really spent a lot... there was so much food. But I didn't bring any home because your wonderful sister criticized my body again," I said, recounting the events at the reception. "Which sister? Marisa?" my mother guessed. There were only three of them, all sisters. Celine’s mother was the eldest, Aunt Marisa was the middle child, and my mother was the youngest. Out of the three, only my mother hadn't been blessed with a wealthy life because my father had died young. "Who else, Ma? The name 'Aunt Marisa' always comes up when someone is meddling with my weight. She’s your only sibling who loves to insult people," I said, shaking my head. "Oh, dear... just get used to it. You know your Aunt Marisa has no filter. Just let it go in one ear and out the other," my mother said, trying to calm me down. As usual, that’s exactly what I did. I pushed my aunt’s negative comments aside and tried to forget them. Once I was settled, I lay down and tried to rest. Still, I couldn't shake the image of the man I saw earlier. My eyes were certain it was my boyfriend's car, but my heart and brain refused to believe it. I couldn't think ill of Mark because I trusted him deeply. Lost in thought, I eventually drifted off to sleep. When I opened my eyes, it was already six in the morning. My alarm clock always woke me at that hour. Because I had been so exhausted the night before, I hadn't even managed to change my clothes. I immediately reached for my phone to see if Mark had messaged me. Sadly, there were no calls or texts. My morning felt incomplete without a "good morning" from him. Regardless, I got up; I still had to go to work. I glanced at the calendar on the wall. Seeing "January 27" for tomorrow made me giddy with expectation. I was expecting Mark to have something big planned for our first anniversary. I was smiling like an i***t, my emotions swinging from the gloom of last night to total excitement. I headed to work after showering and having breakfast. I was in a good mood and didn't want anything to ruin it. "Good morning, Lesly! Am I late?" I greeted my coworker cheerfully. I made sure to wear my prettiest smile so she wouldn't be grumpy with me. I was usually late, which often annoyed her, but today it seemed I had made it on time. "It’s a miracle you’re here at this hour, Angelie. What did you have for breakfast?" she asked. "Hey, that’s harsh! Can't I just be motivated for once?" I teased, the excitement still evident in my voice. "Goodness, Angelie, I know that look. You're getting your hopes up that your boyfriend will pick you up later. As if he actually would," she said bitterly. "You're so bitter. Just because no one picks you up. You're only saying that because you don't have a boyfriend," I countered, playfully nudging her side. "Well, I'd rather not have a boyfriend than be like you—having one who’s secretly seeing other woman," she stated. My brow furrowed, and the smile vanished from my face. "W-wait, what did you say?" I asked, wanting her to repeat it. "Nothing... I said you should get moving because we already have customers," she replied, turning her back on me. I stood there stunned, wondering what she meant. The way she delivered those words was strange—as if she wanted to confess something but couldn't bring herself to say it directly. But I figured it was probably just my imagination, so I chose to ignore my coworker's bitterness for now.