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2025-06-04 20:54:19DIANA
Strong and familiar hands rocked me while soft lips pressed against the corner of my mouth. My eyes opened and I heard Nathan whispering some comforting words. My cheeks were wet with tears and I wondered if this was another kind of dream. I was so confused. But it was not a dream…He was really cuddling me. “You're safe now…You're okay” He whispered and brought his lips to mine. I felt the wetness of his tongue at first and then he slipped into my mouth gently. I froze… and his kiss deepened too fast. Before I knew it, his hands were underneath my top, rubbing against my skin. “Nathan…” I said, trying to get his hands away but he was not understanding that I needed him off me. His fingers stroked my bra and the moment I felt them rolling around my nipple, I was repulsed. I pushed him away from me but he won't let go. “Diana please, let me love you.” Was he drunk? Had he gone mad? “Get off me!” I yelled and turned my face to the side because he wanted to kiss me again. He stroked my cheeks gently. “Diana…” he whispered softly and I pushed him off me with all the strength that I could muster Some days ago, I would have embraced the chance to have sex with Nathan, because I rarely ever had any chances with him. Our romance had died a few months into the marriage. I was eager to have him and fix it but he was more than happy to get away from me. And here I am, deeply disgusted. My chest heaved as I fought hard to breathe. He ran his fingers through his hair and climbed off the bed. “What the hell is wrong with you? First you hide our daughter from me and now you refuse me?” he yelled I could not even believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. I wondered if it would be wise to leave tonight. “I told you to stop acting childish, we can fix this! We don't have to get divorced. I bought Neah a dress for her birthday, it's in my car.” I felt my gut twisting, I was going to throw up. “So you're not going to say anything? Fine!” Before any other words could be said, he stormed out of the room. My phone started ringing on the bedside table, taking a glance at it, I felt my heartbeat quicken. I grabbed the phone and went to the balcony. The night was windy and cold, I shivered as I sat on the chair. “Jaylen…” I whispered but my voice broke. “Oh my goodness, Diana… is it really you?” Nothing was said between us for a few seconds. I fought hard to hold back my cry. The last time I spoke to Jaylen was on my wedding day. He had begged me not to marry Nathan and yet he watched me walk down the aisle. “I've missed you so much.” he said, his voice was rough with emotions but I could tell that it has deepened over the years. “Me too… I didn't expect you to get the message, I wasn't sure if you still used this number.” “I didn't change it in case you needed to reach me. Congratulations Diana.” “For what?” “On your divorce.” *** NATHAN Diana walked past me in the hallway and I grabbed her hand. “Where are you going?” She raised a brow and looked down at my hand, but I didn't let her go. “We are divorced.” she said coldly and pulled her hand free. I let her walk out of the door and after a few seconds of waiting, I followed her.
Latest chapter
Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore 210- TO ATLAS
TWO YEARS LATER Two years old feels heavier than it sounds.Diana knows this as she stands by the window, watching the backyard slowly fill with people she once thought would never live long enough to argue about tablecloths and cake flavors. Two years is not just candles and balloons. It is survival stacked on top of survival until it starts to look like a life.Atlas turns two today.Outside, Oliver is setting up the long wooden table. He has the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his movements careful but steady, like his body remembers pain but no longer obeys it. He keeps stopping to straighten the plates, to realign the cups, to check the cutlery like precision might ward off bad luck. Diana smiles at the sight of him.“You’re going to wear a hole into that table,” she calls through the open door.Oliver looks up, grinning. “Someone has to take this seriously.”That makes her laugh. A soft sound. Real.Dorothy arrives next, loud before she is even visible. She comes through the ga
Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore TWO HUNDRED AND NINE
Mikhail groans softly as the phone vibrates against the bedside table. He opens his eyes and he groans again when he realises that someone is calling him at night. It is still dark enough that the room feels suspended between night and morning, the kind of hour where reality has not fully decided to return. Diana is curled toward him, the blanket twisted around her naked body, her breathing slow and even. One arm is flung across his chest like an anchor, possessive even in sleep.He gently kisses her hand and rolls away from her. He reaches for the phone carefully, silencing it before it can ring again.“Hello,” he says quietly, already sitting up.He slips out of bed, tugging his boxer briefs on as he moves. The air feels colder without her warmth. He glances back once, just to make sure she has not stirred. She has not. Her hair is a mess on the pillow, lips parted slightly, peaceful.He closes the bedroom door behind him.“Hello,” the voice on the other end says.Mikhail freezes.
Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHT
The house sits in the quiet part of the city where sound feels polite.Where neighbors nod instead of stare. Where the air smells like cut grass and warm wood. Where danger feels like a rumor instead of a certainty.Storm knows better than to believe that.She has never once mistaken peace for immunity. She just refuses to let fear dictate how she lives.She's noticed that life is much more sweeter when you're not running and looking behind your shoulder. It's more sweeter when you're not planning on how to take someone's life in exchange for money. She moves through the house barefoot, sunlight spilling across the floor, hair loose, oversized shirt slipping off one shoulder. There is a softness to her mornings now. A slowness she earned with blood and survival and too many nights spent waiting for the other shoe to drop.Her past might always haunt her.She will greet it when it comes.But for now, she is happy.“Dorothy!”Ark’s voice cuts through the quiet from outside.Storm groan
Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore TWO HUNDRED AND SEVEN
THREE MONTHS LATERThe stadium is loud in the way that feels alive.Not violent. Not dangerous. Just loud with joy, with strangers shouting together for the same reason, with hands thrown up and voices cracking from singing and yelling and believing in something simple.Diana sits beside Mikhail with her jacket open, one hand resting low on her belly. The bump is unmistakable now. Not something she has to search for in the mirror. It exists. It announces itself.Mikhail has learned the rules of football slowly, painfully, asking questions at the worst possible moments, shouting at the wrong plays, cheering a second too late. Diana loves it. Loves the way he leans forward like the outcome personally offends him. Loves the way he looks at her afterward to check if his reaction was correct.When their team wins, the stadium explodes.Mikhail stands without realizing it, fist in the air, shouting something that makes absolutely no sense. Diana laughs so hard her eyes water.“You’re one of
Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore TWO HUNDRED AND SIX
The days drag.Not loudly. Not dramatically. They drag in the quiet ways that make worry worse.Mikhail does not let Diana skip meals. He watches her plate like it is a mission, slides food closer when she forgets to eat, presses a glass of water into her hand without saying a word. He never frames it as concern. He frames it as normal. As if feeding her is simply part of loving her.She lets him.At night, he holds her tighter than usual. Not possessive. Protective. Like if he loosens his grip even a little, the world might take something else from him.When the phone finally rings, Diana jumps.Mikhail answers it before she can. His expression barely changes, but his shoulders stiffen.“Thank you,” he says. “We’re on our way.”“The results?” Diana asks and Mikhail nods “They're out.”The drive to the hospital feels longer than the last one.Jaylen is already there when they arrive.He looks calm. Too calm. His hands are folded in front of him, posture composed, face unreadable. He
Dear Ex-husband, I Don't Love You Anymore TWO HUNDRED AND FIVE
Mikhail drives slower than usual.Diana notices it the moment they pull away from the curb. His hands are steady on the wheel, posture straight, eyes fixed ahead, but there is a restraint to him that feels unnatural. Like a man holding himself back from breaking something.Or someone.She watches the city blur past the window, then glances at him. His jaw is tight. His mouth set in a line that means he is thinking too much.“You’re going to wear a hole through the road,” she says softly.He exhales through his nose but does not look at her.“I am not worried,” he says.She almost laughs.She reaches over and rests her hand on his thigh, grounding herself as much as him.“Don’t lie to me,” she murmurs. “This is already messy. You don’t have to pretend.”He finally looks at her then. Really looks at her. His gaze drops briefly, involuntarily, to her belly before returning to her eyes.“What if,” he says quietly, “the baby is his.”The words hang between them.Diana turns them over in he
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