From Heartbroken to Untouchable

On my eighth wedding anniversary, my best friend decided to send me a gift.A photo.She was draped across a sofa, a wine glass in hand, smiling like a woman who owned the world.My son, Owen, was curled up beside her.And my husband, Elliot, sat on her other side—his hand resting far too comfortably on her thigh.They looked like a happy little family.I stared at the image, then typed out two words in reply.“How perfect.”Half a hour later, Elliot stormed through the front door. His voice thundered through the hallway.“Why do you always have to be so bitchy? Always mocking people, always blaming everyone but yourself!”I didn’t flinch. Owen, my own little boy, shoved at my leg and glared. “Bad Momma,” he said. “I wish Miss Lila was my real mommy.”The ache in my chest didn’t even surprise me anymore.I walked over to the drawer, pulled out the crisp stack of papers I’d been holding onto for far too long, and dropped them on the table with a quiet finality.“Alright,” I said, my vo

That night was the first time I truly considered leaving Elliot.I loved him. But I couldn’t keep swallowing this version of love that came with humiliation and gaslighting.Still, Elliot had talked me down.He told me he loved me. that he didn’t want to create more drama by confronting his parents on a holiday, that Owen was too young to lose his mother. He made it sound noble, strategic and necessary.So I… I believed him.I was afraid—afraid to lose a family I’d spent years trying to hold together with nothing but my bare hands.And I stayed.I bit my tongue. I quieted my instincts. I even gaslit myself into believing I was overreacting. That Lila’s presence in our lives was harmless. That I needed to try harder.Eventually, I stopped defending myself at all.Because no one ever listened anyway.The past haunted me like a ghost. Every memory where I should’ve walked away but didn’t—every moment I should’ve chosen me—flooded my chest with shame and regret.And just like that, Owen’

“You feeling better now?” Selena stepped into the office, balancing a glass of water on a tray.“Yeah. Better. Thanks.” I offered a small smile, taking it from her hands.She hesitated. “Sorry if I overheard... were you arguing with your husband?”“Yep. Just another normal day, another normal argument... over a bitch.” I couldn’t think of a more delicate way to describe Lila, and honestly? I didn’t feel like trying.Selena’s brows shot up, then she laughed. “Don’t we all have that kind of bitch in our lives.”“Mine’s a little different,” I sighed, taking a slow sip. “She blames me for something she did.”“That’s next-level bitchy,” Selena muttered, eyes narrowing. “And your husband? He doesn’t believe you?”“Of course not. He’s always seen me as the villain.” I smiled bitterly. “I guess I was just too much woman for him to handle.”“Nonsense,” she said, chin lifting. “You’re powerful. Independent. You run a successful business. He should be grateful to have you.”I couldn’t help a dry

He paused like he’d just won a battle. “Knew it. You’re just pretending not to care.”“No,” I said calmly. “I just wanted to tell you—meet me at the courthouse tomorrow. I’ll bring my lawyer. Let’s get the divorce done before you have a chance to second-guess it.”His mouth twisted. “Fine. I will. I can’t wait to get rid of you. You’re evil. Cunning. Who the hell would ever love someone like you?”And with that, he stormed out—dragging his broken damsel behind him.I didn’t move or speak. I just sat back down in my chair like nothing had happened.Selena hovered nearby, hesitant. “If you’re… sad about it,” she said softly, “you don’t have to hold it in. It’s okay to feel something. Even if he was a jackass.”I shook my head. “I’m not sad. I just wish I’d done it sooner. I was a coward before.”Her smile was cautious, but there. “So you’re really not…?”“No. I’m relieved.”“That’s good,” she said, grinning now. “Because honestly? I was terrified you’d go soft on that bastard.”I laughed

Soon after, I received a call from Mr. Ivory. He invited me to visit the vineyard I had sold to him, saying he had a surprise waiting there for me.I went—gladly.He was waiting by his sleek black Lamborghini, dressed head-to-toe in one of his signature suits. As always, composed, unreadable. He took me to one of the finest restaurants in the city, and by the time we reached our second glass of wine, he slid a folder across the table toward me.A contract.“I took control of your ex’s drug operation,” he said, like he was offering me an extra dessert. “Turns out he failed at being a husband, but not at being a drug dealer. These are all his clients—politicians, celebrities, influencers. And this—” he tapped the second page, “—this is a list of every property, every grow site, every hidden lab. You could use this to build something of your own, if you want.”I stared at him. “Ivory… You didn’t have to do this for me. You’ve done enough already.”He smiled, smooth and unbothered. “No, Ol