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Divorced but Obsessed
Last Updated : 2026-09-18
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Ivy Carter sacrificed everything for the man she loved. For years, she stayed by Dylan Hart’s side while he lay unconscious, bound by a contract marriage that promised to save her family. When the powerful billionaire finally wakes up, she expects warmth and gratitude. Instead, she receives only ice-cold suspicion and cruel rejection. To Dylan, Ivy is nothing more than a stranger who married him for his fortune. Yet the more he tries to push her away, the stronger the dangerous attraction between them grows. One passionate night changes everything, but Dylan refuses to admit his feelings. When his first love returns and old promises resurface, Ivy’s world shatters completely. Pregnant and heartbroken, Ivy signs the divorce papers and disappears into the night, determined to protect her unborn child from the man who betrayed her.
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Divorced but Obsessed In the Room
Dylan told the children, “If you’re going to talk about my life, do it in front of me,” and the silence that followed changed the shape of the room. Hope’s hand froze around her glass. Lucas stopped mid-sentence. Rose looked at Noah, then back at her father. The grandchildren were outside. The adult room had no cover left. “All right,” Hope said carefully. “Then we’re doing this directly.” “Yes,” Dylan answered. “Directly.” I stayed beside him on the couch, close enough for support, not so close that I became a shield. He had asked for the room. He needed to hold it. Lucas leaned forward. “We’ve been worried. That’s the whole thing. We talk because we’re trying to keep up.” “Talk to me,” Dylan said. “Not around me.” Rose’s voice was softer. “We’re scared of getting it wrong. Of asking too much or assuming too little.” “Then ask,” Dylan said. “I can live with awkward questions. I can’t live with becoming a subject in the next room.” Noah sat with his arms crossed, q
Last Updated : 2026-09-18Divorced but Obsessed The Witnesses
I realized our children had begun speaking about Dylan in the past-and-present tense at once, as if preparing themselves out loud without meaning to. “He used to stay on his feet through whole dinners,” Hope said in the kitchen, her voice low but not low enough. “Now I watch him choose the chair before he chooses the conversation.” Lucas answered, “He’s still sharp. He just rations the physical part.” I stood in the hallway with a stack of plates and felt the words land like a change in weather. Not cruel. Not false. Already halfway into eulogy cadence. In the living room Dylan laughed at something one of the grandchildren said. Ordinary. Present. Still fully here. I walked into the kitchen. “He can hear more than you think.” Hope turned, caught. “We weren’t gossiping.” “I know,” I said. “You were adjusting. It still has a sound.” Lucas rubbed the back of his neck. “We’re trying to keep up with what’s real.” “Then include him in what’s real,” I said. “Don’t practic
Last Updated : 2026-09-18Divorced but Obsessed Learning the New Language
I watched Dylan accept help without apology and realized I did not know how to respond without making it larger than it was. “Can you take the bag?” he said in the doorway, holding out the heavier grocery sack. No joke. No grimace for show. Just the request. “Yes.” I took it. “I’ve got it.” He nodded once and moved inside with the lighter one. The cane tapped softly against the floor. Neither of us commented on it. The silence around the moment felt more delicate than the help itself. In the kitchen he exhaled. “That was worse in my head.” “You did fine.” “Don’t praise me for handing over a bag.” “I wasn’t.” I set the groceries down. “I was answering you.” He studied me for a second, then let it go. “All right.” The day became a series of small translations. He asked me to steady the stool while he reached the higher shelf. I did it without narration. When he paused at the garden step, I waited instead of offering my arm first. He asked. I gave it. The sequence m
Last Updated : 2026-09-12Divorced but Obsessed The Shape of Help
Dylan refused a cane on principle, then nearly fell in the hallway, and the look he gave me afterward was worse than the stumble itself. I reached for him. “Are you hurt?” “I’m fine.” He caught the wall with one hand and stayed there, breathing harder than he wanted me to notice. “Don’t.” “Don’t what?” “Don’t turn this into a verdict.” I stayed where I was. “You almost hit the floor.” “And I didn’t.” He pushed himself upright. “That matters.” “What also matters is that you’ve been refusing anything that makes the walking safer.” His mouth tightened. “A cane makes me look like someone I don’t recognize.” “A fall makes you someone in a hospital bed.” The words came out harder than I intended. Dylan heard it. His shoulders squared. “I still get a say in how I move through my own house.” “And I get a say when I’m the one listening for a crash every time you leave a room.” We stood in the hallway with the almost-fall still between us. The cane leaned against the
Last Updated : 2026-09-12
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