The narcissist ex husband

Larry sat behind his wide, mahogany desk, surrounded by glossy charts and quarterly reports, trying desperately to concentrate on numbers, forecasts, and profit margins. His tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, sweat gleaming at his temples. The world outside still moved at a frenetic pace, but he needed focus.

That was until Audrey barged in, waving her phone with reckless energy.

“Larry—you need to see this,” she said, thrusting the screen in front of his face.

He pulled his gaze away from the spreadsheet. “What now?”

She tapped the phone—opened I*******m, a tabloid site, and dozens of blurry paparazzi photos of June and Xander walking arm-in-arm, laughing, sharing a quick kiss in front of a restaurant. June’s head rested gently on Xander’s shoulder; Xander’s hand shielded her from one of the photographers as if guarding something precious.

“Oh my God,” Audrey murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. “Look at them, Larry. They’re getting closer.”

Larry’s face hardened, muscles tightening in controlled fury. “They look good,” Audrey repeated, smirking as she watched the flicker of hurt in his eyes. “Maybe you should do the same—with your wife.”

His silence was deafening.

Audrey hummed, scrolling through more images.

“Wow… they really do look good together,” she added sweetly, and Larry pretended not to hear.

He returned to his work, forcing himself to concentrate on numbers that now blurred before his eyes. But Audrey wasn’t done; the sound of her voice was like dripping acid.

Larry slammed the lid of his laptop shut. “Give me that,” he snapped, snatching the phone.

He stared at the screen. June in soft pastels, smiling. Xander with unruly hair, suit crisp, eyes melting into hers. A kind of intimacy—like one they never had, a life they never lived.

His breath caught. The same old lion’s roar of jealousy rumbled deep in his chest.

“Don’t bother him,” Audrey drawled. “He’s busy.”

Larry stared at the locker folder with project plans, but his mind was on the flicker of June’s smile, the curve of her lips in Xander’s presence. The spark he once thought he had extinguished felt like it had been ignited in that single shot.

“She can’t move on,” he muttered under his breath, voice ice. “Not without me.”

Audrey raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that a threat or a promise?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tapped the screen, zooming in on June’s face.

Even behind the pixels, he recognized her.

A fierce mistake he had made.

A life he had lost.

He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply.

“No,” he whispered, voice raw. “She’s mine.”

He handed the phone back to Audrey, voice hollow. “Erase those photos from your feed. Don’t let this go public any further.”

Audrey looked up at him her face a curious mix of fascination and alarm.

Larry stood, straightening. The steel in his spine returned.

“I want a full profile on Xander,” he ordered. “Background, finances, family. Everything. I want to know how he got close to her… what strings were pulled.”

Audrey nodded, pocketing the phone.

“He can’t be the only man in her life,” Larry continued, pacing toward the window overlooking the city skyline. “Not without me knowing exactly who he is.”

The screeching of tires echoed into the night as Larry’s black Range Rover came to a sharp halt in front of June’s suburban home. The porch light glowed warmly in the darkness, like a beacon—but for Larry, it was the only thing tethering him to sanity at that moment. His pulse was racing, his hands clenched around the steering wheel long after he’d turned off the ignition.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He just knew he had to see her.

Again.

He had traced her address months ago in one of his weak, wine-fueled moments, the night he saw a photo of her laughing at a beachside café with some girlfriends. That laugh haunted him—the ease, the freedom. It wasn’t meant to exist without him.

He stormed out of the car and made his way to the door, his vision tunneled, his mind clouded. He raised his fist and knocked sharply—three, four times. Not a pause between them.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and there she stood.

June.

Hair tied loosely, skin bare of makeup, wearing a simple oversized shirt—his chest tightened. She looked peaceful. Happy.

Until she saw him.

“Larry?” Her voice was cautious, confused. But she barely got the words out before he stormed in uninvited, slamming the door shut behind him.

“How dare you, June?” His voice came out low, hoarse with a rage he couldn’t bottle. “How dare you love another man?”

June instinctively took a step back, but Larry advanced. Within seconds, he had her pinned to the wall, his hands flat on either side of her, caging her in—not touching her, not yet, but surrounding her all the same.

She didn’t flinch. She simply looked up at him, into the same eyes that once used to make her melt, and said evenly, “You’re a narcissist, Larry.”

His breath hitched.

“You don’t love me,” she continued, her voice laced with something deeper—wounds still bleeding beneath her calm exterior. “But you can’t stand the idea of me being loved by someone else. You threw me away, Larry. And now you want to claim what you lost? You can’t handle losing—that’s your problem.”

Larry’s face contorted. “You think I don’t love you?”

“I know you don’t,” she said, her voice rising with each syllable. “You love the idea of controlling me. But I’m not the same woman who cried over your lies. I’m not your property.”

“You’ll always be mine,” he snapped, his voice trembling as he seized her wrist in frustration. “You think I’ll just sit and watch you give yourself to some guy like Xander?”

“You’re hurting me, Larry,” June said quietly, trying to pull her arm away. But he didn’t let go.

“I begged you, didn’t I?” Larry’s voice cracked—something between desperation and anger. “I begged you to come back, and you didn’t. And now you’re with him? Sleeping with him? Laughing with him like I never existed?”

Her voice turned cold. “Yes. Because you don’t exist in my world anymore. You lost that right the day you believed lies over me. The day you broke me and walked away like I was some toy you got bored with.”

The silence between them was deafening.

Then came the breaking point.

“If I can’t have you, nobody will,” he whispered, so low it sent shivers down her spine.

June’s eyes widened slightly, her breath shallow. She stopped struggling—not out of fear, but clarity.

“I’m not afraid of you, Larry,” she said with quiet defiance. “I survived you once. And I’ll do it again if I have to.”

Just then, the loud honk of a car echoed outside. It was Xander’s driver, pulling up into the driveway. Larry’s eyes flicked toward the window, and in that moment of distraction, June yanked her wrist free.

“You need to leave,” she said firmly, opening the door wide.

Larry didn’t move.

“I said—leave.”

His jaw tightened. “This isn’t over.”

“Yes,” she said, locking eyes with him. “It is.”