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A Divorce
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2026-03-15 06:06:23“Miss, are you sure about this?” The doctor stared deeply into my eyes hoping to see if I was joking or would change my mind.
“Yes, I haven't been as sure as I am now.” My voice came out steadier than I expected. She set her pen down slowly. “Mrs Whitmore” she folded her hands. “You don't need to decide today. It's only 3 weeks,” She paused. “ Your uterine lining shows signs of significant weakness. The fact that this pregnancy succeeded— ." She exhaled. “—Is frankly a miracle. There's no guarantee your body will allow this again”.Her voice dropped low. “This may be your only chance.” The words shot a pain through my chest. With tight trembling hands I responded, “No qualms, I don't intend on giving birth anyway” I interjected. Especially not for a man like him. She studied me for a moment and nodded in defeat. “Okay, I will prepare you for the necessary procedures.” She confirmed and glanced back at the monitor. “You'll need a minimum of three days to recover. I suggest you plan on staying here for those few days “ “Noted.” My appointment for the abortion was scheduled and that was the first part of it. I gathered my bag, thanked the doctor and got up ready to leave. But paused to look over the appointment card slipped into my hand. A frown settled on my face. The earlier the better. “Erm doctor, I'm sorry but can't you move this date forward?” I paused as I explained further cause the look on her face was more of confusion . “I do have an engagement on that day, I'd rather I finish and recover fast before it happens. “ She looked up, and for a second, something flashed across her face. Was it pity ? “Alright Miss, I can shift it to two days from today.” “That'll be fine with me,” I managed a small nod. “Thank you” was my last word before I left her office as the door clicked shut behind me. I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. The child isn't at fault. A part of me still felt sad. I knew that. With one hand pressed flat against my tummy, I let my thoughts take over. The baby was innocent. Completely innocent. But I also knew what kind of world I would be pushing it into. A world where its father's hands belonged to another woman. Where it would grow up either ignorant of the truth or destroyed by it. I won't do that to it. I won't give birth to a child just to watch it be swallowed by that world. For three good years, Damien and I have tried for a baby. God, in the beginning he was everything. He was sweet , showered me with gifts and showed me that I was really born to be loved. He never for once took a glance at another woman. Anytime I looked into his eyes, all I saw was the raw desire for me. On our very first anniversary, he made love to me . And that was the best day of my life. He made my life whole and no man was closer to that. Everything was okay, until I noticed his sudden change. He became moody and a little aggressive. And even stopped making love to me, but when he did, it was the gentle thing we used to share. It was rough like he poured anger into it. At least he hasn't laid a finger on me. He recently started leaving early for work and getting back home very late and when I ask about it, the only thing he says is, “I'm tired, we'll talk about it tomorrow,” “Had a meeting” “I need peace to work” I gave him peace, the space he asked for and still gave him the benefit of doubt. I was very patient though it did break my heart. I thought he always worked hard and was too drained or had rough days at work. But I was wrong all this while. Until the night he looked me up with coldness in the eyes, stomped the table with a fist and said to me , “You have no right to question my lateness. It is none of your business” For the very first time in the years we've been together, he rejected my food like it had poison in it. Fresh air hit my skin, making me relax a bit. It was nothing like what I felt earlier. My feet moved on their own. Though with burning knees, my feet still wouldn't stop moving. My phone vibrated in my bag. I pulled it out and picked it up when I saw the caller ID. “Hello, Lawyer Lawrence here. Am I speaking to Mrs ….” “Oh hi , Mr Lawrence. Yes that's me “ my voice came out normal which surprised me a bit. Not that I expected to sound like how I was looking at the moment. “My assistant mentioned you came to my office this morning. My apologies, i had a hearing on a different case ” Typical of a Lawyer. “How can I help you?” I hesitated for a while before I continued, “I did. Can you please help me draft a divorce. I don't think I can continue with it any longer “ “A divorce ?” “Yes. I want to divorce my husband “
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The Divorce That Ruined Him Shielding me, my protector.
Serena"You aren't hearing me, Ms. Holt... oh, Whitmore," Phillip, the warehouse manager, barked, taking a step toward me, his heavy steel-toed work boots scraping against the concrete.After what happened, I rushed back to the warehouse, and my head was still flooded with the small revelation.He swung his foot out, hard, kicking the corner of a wooden crate resting near my feet. The impact splintered the cedar frame. Inside, delicate, deep-purple orchids, rare imports brought in all the way from the southern nurseries for my oceanfront resort contract shuddered under the violence of the blow."The port terminal jacked up the cold-storage freight surcharge by forty percent this morning," Phillip spat, pulling a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket. "Fuel tariffs went up. Terminal handling fees went up. You pay the eight thousand dollar cold-hold fee in cash by noon, or these bay doors stay shut. And your little decorative flowers rot in the heat."Eight thousand dollars. Cash.
The Divorce That Ruined Him First Page
Serena The drive down the coastal highway was suffocating in its silence. Beside me on the passenger seat lay Noah’s heavy coat. He had left it hanging on the peg behind the door when he caught the four o'clock express bus to the regional university. Along with his coat, he had left his phone resting square in the middle of the dining table... a cold, deliberate habit he had adopted over the last two years to eliminate what he called unregulated noise. He was fifteen years old, but he operated with the terrifying, clinical discipline of a man operating in an enemy territory. I knew he would be walking two miles from the university library back to the transit hub in nothing more than a thin blazer, and he wouldn't complain about it for a single second. He would just endure it. I turned the station wagon into the university’s secondary parking lot, the tires crunching over wet gravel. The campus was quiet, wrapped in the damp twilight. Most of the undergraduate students had
The Divorce That Ruined Him The Prison Entry
Rose Hale The walk from Cellblock B to Parole Hearing Room 1 was four hundred paces long. I kept my spine rigid, my chin angled at precisely thirty degrees, and my hands folded neatly over my waist. Even in an institutional gray jumpsuit made of coarse, unwashed cotton that chafed against the delicate skin of my neck, I refused to walk like a convict. I was Rose Holt. I was the woman who had dictated terms to international banking cartels, who had dismantled corporate rivals from a penthouse suite, who had commanded respect with nothing more than a quiet lowering of my voice. The female corrections officer walking two paces behind me, she's a broad-shouldered woman named Miller whose leather belt squeaked with every heavy stride didn't offer a word. She didn't need to. In this place, silence was the real currency. When the heavy door of Hearing Room 2 slid open with a metallic screech, the scent shifted instantly. It was warmer here, but stale trapped air smelling of old bit
The Divorce That Ruined Him Ghost of Nadia
Damien I sat at my bare oak desk on the second floor above the shoe repair shop on Elm Street. The room was freezing. The single electric space heater resting near my bad leg buzzed with a low, irregular hum, its heating coil glowing a faint, dull orange that barely cut through the chill. On the dark wood before me lay a single, chipped ceramic mug of cold black tea and the leather-bound accounting book I used for my firm's business ledger. I hadn't turned on the overhead light fixtures. The only illumination came from the glow of the solitary streetlamp outside the drafty glass window, casting long, cage-like shadows across the bare plaster walls and the unpainted floorboards. My chest still ached with a physical, grinding sharp pain. It was the echo of Noah’s quiet, polite voice echoing endlessly through the empty space in my mind, Thank you for coming, Mr. Holt. Mr. Holt. I leaned my head back against the cheap backing of my office chair, closing my eyes, letting the darkne
The Divorce That Ruined Him The Unnecessary Presence
Damien I sat in the sixth row of the grand auditorium inside the Convention Center, hidden in the deep shadows near the aisle. I wore a plain black coat over a dark sweater, my umbrella resting between my boots, my face half-obscured by the dim lighting of the hall. Around me sat two hundred parents, teachers, and students, clapping, murmuring, and taking photos on their phones as the state championship debate concluded on the illuminated stage fifty feet below. I hadn't come to be seen. I hadn't come to make my presence known. I had driven three hours through a downpour just to sit in row six, row six of a room where no one knew my name, just to watch my son. On the stage below, standing behind a polished oak podium stood Noah. Fourteen years old. Wearing a simple navy suit that fit his lean, growing frame perfectly. He held no papers in his hands. He stood straight, his dark hair catching the white stage lights, his voice ringing out through the high-ceilinged hall w
The Divorce That Ruined Him The Hallway Encounter
Noah It was four o'clock on a Saturday afternoon. Over three hundred high school students from sixty prep schools and academies across the state had gathered for the Annual State Mock Trial and Public Policy Championship. My team from Bay Ridge Academy had just swept the quarter-finals, dismantling an elite team from the capital in forty minutes flat on a complex commercial breach-of-contract scenario. I stood near a marble pillar near the main auditorium entrance, wearing a simple, dark navy wool suit my mother had helped me pick out at the local tailor. I held a thin leather folder containing my closing arguments for the semi-final round against St. Jude’s Academy. I reached into my pocket, pulling out my small notepad to review the secondary precedent citations. "You skipped the third-party beneficiary exemption on page fourteen." The voice came from my right... quiet, smooth, clear, and completely devoid of aggression. I paused, setting my pen against the pad, and t
The Divorce That Ruined Him She Won
Serena's Pov I sat on the couch muching on some snacks. My last encounter with the lawyer went smooth. I was watching an episode in a documentary. And it got me real bad. I was so engrossed that I didn't hear the doorbell ring.The sound of the cameras alarm brought me back to reality. I hesitated
The Divorce That Ruined Him I'm In For The Drama
Serena's Pov The smell of eggs hit my nostrils before I opened my eyes.I lay still for a moment. Damien's side of the bed was empty and cool. I got up, washed my face with cold water, and looked at myself in the mirror until I felt ready. Then I walked out.He was at the stove in a grey t-shirt,
The Divorce That Ruined Him This Isn't About You
Serena's POV I closed the bedroom door behind me and stood there for a moment with my back pressed against it. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet. Too small. From somewhere down the hall, I could still hear the faint murmur of their voices. I pushed myself off the door and walked toward the
The Divorce That Ruined Him Roses and Ruins
Serena's POV “Okay, I'll have everything prepared by the end of the week, Mrs Whitmore. Then, we'll schedule a proper meeting to go over the terms.” “That's fine. Thank you, Mr Lawrence.” The call ended. For a moment, I just stood there on the pavement with my phone still warm in my palm. A woma
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