Novels by ejioguangela7

I stared at Dimitri's back as he stood by the window, rigid as a steel beam, refusing to look at me. Fine. He didn't have to look at me. He didn't have to admit anything. None of it mattered anymore."Dimitri, I don't care if Misha is your biological son or not. I don't care if you slept with Anya or didn't. I don't care about your brother's memory or your family obligations or any of the pretty little stories you've been wrapping your lies in. I'm done. The marriage is over."He turned around slowly. His eyes were dark, searching my face for some crack, some opening, something he could grab onto and twist until I bent."You don't mean that.""I've never meant anything more in my life."For a moment, I thought he was going to say something. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. But nothing came out. Instead, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the frame shook.I stood there in the silence, listening to his fo

I was standing by the window, watching Dimitri sleep, when my phone vibrated on the nightstand.One new email. No subject line. No sender name I recognized. Just a string of numbers and an attachment folder labeled with a date range: three years ago.I opened it.The first photo was Dimitri and Anya sitting in an obstetrician's waiting room. She was holding a clipboard, filling out paperwork, and his hand was on her lower back, casual, comfortable. The kind of touch a husband gives his pregnant wife.The second photo was them leaving a pharmacy. Anya was carrying a bag of prenatal vitamins. Dimitri was carrying her purse.The third photo was an ultrasound appointment. I could see the grainy black-and-white image on the monitor, and Dimitri was leaning forward in the chair next to the exam table, staring at the screen with an expression I had never seen him give me. Wonder. Pure, unfiltered wonder.There were dozens more. Weeks of photos. Months. Every stage of Anya's pregnancy was doc

His pen hit the paper like a fist hitting a wall.Dimitri signed every page with sharp, angry strokes, his jaw so tight I could see the muscles jumping under his skin. When he finished, he shoved the papers across the table and looked up at me with eyes so cold they could have frozen the IV drip."Katya, don't regret divorcing me."I almost laughed.Regret? Regret was what I felt for the last four years. Regret was the wasted dinners, the empty bed at 2 AM, the lingerie that never got seen, the anniversary that turned into another night alone. Regret was loving a man who had room in his heart for everyone except his wife.Signing these papers wasn't regret. It was the first smart thing I had done since saying "I do.""Be at the County Courthouse tomorrow morning. Nine o'clock."I picked up the papers, slid them back into my bag, and turned toward the door. Behind me, Misha was still crying, and Dimitri was bouncing him gently, whispering something about being brave and growing up to b

The hospital smelled like bleach and broken promises.I walked through the pediatric ward at 8 AM, divorce papers tucked inside my bag like a loaded gun. My heels clicked on the tile floor, each step louder than the last, and I felt every nurse glance up as I passed. I didn't care. I wasn't here to be quiet. I wasn't here to be polite. I was here to end this.Room 304. The door was cracked open.I stopped. Through the gap, I could see them. Dimitri was sitting on the edge of Misha's bed, his sleeves rolled up, his hair messy from sleeping in that hospital chair all night. Anya was standing beside him, holding a cup of water. She tilted the cup toward his lips and he leaned forward, drinking directly from her hand, his eyes half closed, trusting, comfortable.Like a wife feeding her husband.Something inside me cracked. Not broke. It had broken a long time ago. This was just the sound of the last piece falling.I pushed the door open and walked in.Dimitri's head snapped up. His first

Four years of marriage. Eight years of loving this man. And tonight, on our anniversary, I was standing in front of the mirror in black lace lingerie, waiting for a husband who was never going to walk through that door.The table was set. Candles lit. His favorite beef stroganoff sitting in the middle of the dining table, the steam still curling up from the plate. I had spent three hours in the kitchen, another hour doing my hair and makeup, and twenty minutes convincing myself that tonight would be different.Tonight, Dimitri Orlov would finally see me.My phone buzzed at 7:42 PM. His name lit up the screen and my stomach dropped before I even answered."Katya, Anya just called. Misha has a high fever. I need to go to the hospital."I pressed my lips together. My reflection stared back at me, a woman dressed up like a fool."Dimitri, it's our anniversary. You promised me tonight.""I know, I know. But the kid is burning up and Anya is alone. You know she has nobody else."She has nob