Chapter 3: Turning the Rumor Back on Them

Facing my sister-in-law’s disgust and the curious, mocking looks of the lingering guests, I raised my voice:

I drew in a slow breath, letting the room settle before I spoke. "Sis-in-law, who did you just say was peeking at you? Don’t hold back! We can’t let him get away with it—he’s gotta be taught a lesson!" My words rang out, sharp as a slap, and every head in the room turned.

She was stunned, totally thrown by me speaking up.

Her eyes darted around, searching for an ally. She stammered, fingers twisting the hem of her dress. For a second, she looked small—almost like the victim she pretended to be.

She pretended to hesitate, her mouth opening and closing, like she was weighing whether to say something or not.

You could see the wheels turning, her gaze flicking from me to the guests. She was weighing her next move, calculating the odds. I almost wanted to slow clap.

“What? It was him? I always thought he seemed decent, but to do something like that to you behind our backs?” I shot a suspicious look at a young man by the door, who was clearly loving the drama.

That guy was her cousin. I still remember—in my previous life, it was him who always stood in the crowd, loudly spreading rumors about how I’d harassed my sister-in-law.

He wore that same smug grin, arms folded like he owned the place. I could almost hear his voice, spreading lies at every family gathering—poisoning the well, one whisper at a time.

My reputation was destroyed, and he played a huge part in it. I could still taste the bitterness, even now.

He was the ringleader, the one who made sure every whispered rumor found its way to the right ears. He was always in the thick of it, making sure I never stood a chance.

She froze.

For the first time, her confidence wavered. She looked at her cousin, then at me, caught between two bad choices. The room went quiet.

She stammered, “I didn’t mean Tyler, I—I meant you, you were the one peeking at me!”

She said it louder this time, trying to regain control. But her voice shook, and the guests started to murmur.

I acted surprised: “Sis-in-law, that’s not what you just told me! If you don’t want to accuse him, you can’t just blame me instead!”

I let my voice rise, letting a little hurt creep in. The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Nobody likes getting dragged into a family mess, but nobody could look away.

She was so anxious sweat beaded on her forehead. “I was always talking about you. You kept looking at me just now!”

Her cheeks flushed, and she wouldn’t meet my eyes. She glanced at my brother, silently begging for rescue. No help came.

I nodded knowingly and raised my voice: “Oh, right, right. After all, he’s still young. If word got out, it’d be bad for him. Fine, let’s say you were talking about me.”

I looked around, making sure everyone heard. I wanted the doubt to stick. I saw people exchanging glances, already suspicious.

I turned to the onlookers: “Not like anyone would believe a guy with a PhD, about to work at a university, surrounded by smart, attractive women, would be interested in a woman like my sister-in-law—no degree, no looks, no job, no connections. But sure, let’s just say she meant me.”

I laid it on thick, letting the sarcasm show. I saw a few cousins stifle laughs, and even Uncle Ray smirked. The energy in the room shifted. For the first time, I felt the tide turning my way.

Her face turned bright red. “You—what do you mean by that?”

She bristled, hands balled into fists. She looked like she wanted to throw something, but all she could manage was pure indignation.

I feigned surprise. “Sis-in-law, why are you upset? Was what I said too harsh? Sorry, I’m a straight-shooter, I don’t know how to sugarcoat things. My bad, my bad.”

I shrugged, palms up, as if to say, "What can you do?" The crowd chuckled, the tension breaking just a little. My great-uncle’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

My great-uncle, who’d watched the whole thing, let out a chuckle:

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Kid, you sure don’t pull your punches. Your sister-in-law’s a good match for your brother, but for you? Not even close. All right, let’s drop it. The kid’s still young and doesn’t know any better. Let’s just pretend nothing happened."

His voice carried the weight of family authority. When he spoke, people listened. I caught my brother’s eye, and he looked away, cheeks burning.

Everyone knew this would feed the gossip mill for a year—the bride’s cousin fantasizing about her and trying to pin it on me.

You could practically see the stories forming, the way Aunt Linda leaned in to whisper to her neighbor. The family grapevine was already humming. I knew I’d just rewritten the script.

“All right, all right, that’s enough. AJ, I told you to take good care of your sister-in-law, so how did you manage to stir up all this trouble?” My older brother suddenly appeared and immediately tried to pin the blame on me.

He strode into the room, jaw set, doing his best to look like the responsible big brother. But his eyes flicked nervously between me and his wife, like he wasn’t sure who to believe. Typical.

“Making a scene in front of all these people is embarrassing for the whole family.”

He said it like he was reading from a script, voice flat and tired. I could tell he just wanted the drama to end and get back to his beer and the game on TV.

If this were my old self, I would’ve swallowed my pride and apologized to keep the peace. But now?

Something in me hardened. I was done playing the scapegoat. I straightened my shoulders and met his gaze head-on. No more backing down.

I shot to my feet, fists clenched:

"Bro, what do you mean? It was her cousin who was peeking at her. I was willing to sacrifice my own reputation to cover it up. What more do you want from me?"

My brother hadn’t expected me to talk back and looked embarrassed.

He shifted his weight, ran a hand through his hair. For a second, he looked like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You’ve read too many books and turned your brain to mush. Can’t you do anything right? Go help Mom in the kitchen and stop making trouble.”

He tried to sound stern, but his voice cracked. The guests snickered, and he shot me a glare, daring me to keep going.

“I’ll go with my sister-in-law. Bro, you send her cousin home.”

I made sure everyone heard me, my tone light but loaded. I shot my brother a look that said, "Your move," then waited for my sister-in-law to follow me to the kitchen.

On the way there, I leaned in close and whispered to her:

I kept my voice low, just loud enough for her to hear. "Sis-in-law, do you really think a guy like me isn’t good enough for you? Don’t I look better and make more money than my brother?"

She trembled. “You!” She grabbed my collar.

Her grip was surprisingly strong, nails digging into my shirt. Her face twisted with outrage, but I could see the fear behind it.

“See? This guy’s got designs on me! He’s a pervert!”

She shouted loud enough for the whole house to hear. But instead of shock, the crowd burst out laughing, the tension snapping like a rubber band.

My second uncle looked at my brother. “Ethan, you’d better rein in your wife. On your wedding day, fighting with your brother over this? What does that look like?”

He raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. The implication was clear: she was upset by my blunt rejection, so she made up stories about me liking her.

She stomped her foot hard. “He whispered to me just now! He really did!”

She looked around for support, but found only smirks and raised eyebrows. The tables had turned, and she knew it.

I looked even more shocked. “Sis-in-law, all I said was that if you weren’t full, you could get more food in the kitchen, and now you’re accusing me of coming on to you? That’s so unfair.”

That’s so unfair.

A few guests shook their heads, clearly enjoying the show. I let my voice crack a little, the picture of wounded innocence.

With everyone smirking and rolling their eyes, even her thick skin couldn’t take it. She covered her face and ran out crying.

Her sobs echoed down the hallway, but nobody followed. The guests started gathering their things, already gossiping about what they’d just witnessed.

My brother looked furious. He didn’t even apologize to the guests—just hurried after her.

He shot me one last glare before storming off. I watched him go, feeling a strange mix of relief and sadness. The damage was done, but at least it wasn’t all on me this time.

After all that, no one would believe I was interested in my sister-in-law anymore.

I could finally breathe. The weight of suspicion lifted, replaced by something like hope. Maybe, just maybe, I could start over.

But I didn’t feel much joy in this small victory.

It was a hollow win. I knew her type—she wouldn’t let it go. She’d find another way to make my life hell. The battle was far from over.

She wouldn’t stop over one little setback.

She was relentless, like a dog with a bone. One rumor squashed, and she’d invent two more. I had to stay sharp, ready for whatever came next.