Divorced: Her Ex Husband’s Regret

ScarletI wake to the sound of shouting.At first, it feels like a dream — voices muffled, distant, tangled with the heaviness still weighing down my limbs. My head throbs, a dull ache pulsing behind my eyes as I try to move.I can’t.My body feels foreign. Heavy. Unresponsive.The mattress dips beside me.“Get the hell out of my bed!”Elijah’s voice cuts through the fog like a blade.My eyes snap open.The room spins violently, my stomach lurching as I turn my head. It takes a moment for my vision to clear — for shapes to become people — and when it does, my breath catches painfully in my throat.There is a man beside me.Half-naked. Panic written all over his face as he scrambles away from me, tugging at his clothes like his life depends on it.“What—?” My voice comes out hoarse. Weak.Elijah stands at the foot of the bed, fury etched into every sharp line of his face. His chest rises and falls heavily, hands clenched into fists at his sides.I’ve never seen him look at me like this

Elijah The door closes behind Scarlett with a sound that echoes far longer than it should. I stay seated. I don’t know why. The chair feels heavier than it did minutes ago, like standing would require admitting something I’m not ready to face. The room smells faintly of her perfume—soft, familiar—and it irritates me more than it should. “She always had a flair for dramatics,” my mother says, breaking the silence. “Running off like that.” I don’t respond. Across the table, Elise crosses her legs gracefully and gathers her purse, her movements calm, composed. She doesn’t rush. She never does. Everything about her is intentional. “Well,” she says lightly, “that went… better than I expected.” I finally look at her. She’s smiling—not cruelly, not openly triumphant—but there’s something satisfied in the curve of her lips. Like a woman who has just stepped into shoes she knows fit perfectly. Alice laughs. “You handled yourself beautifully, dear. So poised. So dignified. Unlike—” Sh