Divorce Has Never Felt So Good Novels & Stories

When I reached the lobby, I pulled out my phone and texted Marcus: “He signed. It’s done.” Then I texted Kyle: “Divorce papers are signed. Thank you for everything.” His response came immediately: “Proud of you. Dinner tonight to celebrate?” I stared at the message, then typed back: “Yes.” I walked out of Hartley Industries into the bright November morning, the signed divorce papers in my bag, my hand still tingling from the slap. For the first time in two years, I felt free.

“But I meant I’m divorced. It’s done. Signed, sealed, and finalized. Adrian handled everything. It was so clean and quiet. I can’t believe Marc let us go.” Floral squealed. “Do you mean this?” Tears of joy crowded my eyes, and I tipped my head back. “Of course I do,” I said, sniffling. “Adrian is the best thing that has happened to me. I thought I would never fall in love or find anyone new after Marc, but look at me now.” “Sophia, you deserve everything,” she whispered. “What about you? How’s the family?” She sighed. “Good. No divorce, but we're still separated.” I said nothing, mostly because she’d never given me the details of their breakup. But her husband didn’t seem as bad as Marc.

“Okay, okay. I get it. But I just… I’ve been thinking. About us. About everything we used to have.” “There is no us, Harold. We’re divorced.” His eyes pleaded with mine. “But that can change. People get remarried all the time, Audrey. We could start over. Really… try this time.” That actually made me laugh—sharp and cold. “Start over?” I shook my head, crossing my arms. “I thank God every day that we ended. You tore me down every time I tried to dream. You never believed in anything I was or wanted to be. I have no desire to revisit that nightmare.”

Mark said gently, "You seem to have lost a lot of weight recently. Are you still having a hard time getting over the divorce? You should go out more with your friends or go on a trip with them. I still remember Ms. Summer; she seems like a very cheerful person. Who knows, maybe if you spend more time with her, you'd feel better in no time." He paid close attention to Noelle's expression as he said that. Yet, her expression remained stoic as she responded, "There was no divorce. The divorce certificate was fake."

"Mommy is the worst! Get out of the way! You made us unable to see Ingy anymore!" I didn't even need a mirror to know how terrible I looked. Meanwhile, Corbin seemed to have known all along that things would end up like this. He was unexceptionally calm when he finally spoke. "This is fun, isn't it? You finally look as ridiculous as you behave. Oh, do you regret it now? If you really divorce me, your family will fall into ruin. So, stop acting like a clown and—" "I'm divorcing you." I didn't have any energy in my limbs, and the back of my head was still throbbing in pain, but my voice was firm and steady. "I swear that I'll divorce you, Corbin Stallone."

“But I was miserable. Now I have everything I ever wanted.” “What do you mean?” I asked, my heart sinking. “You live here? You own this car?” He nodded slowly. “But how?” I cried. “We made plans for this life. I believed we’d get here together eventually.” “Anna,” he said coldly, “just take it as me setting you free. Sign the divorce papers. I’ve found someone else. Please go and forget about me.” It felt like my heart was being ripped apart. Silent tears streamed down my face.

I woke up the next day, ready to leave the hotel, only to find Gordon sitting in front of my door. He quickly stood up, flustered and embarrassed. "If you're not here to discuss our divorce, I want you out of my sight!" I snapped. "Sheila... is there really no way back?" he asked, his voice soft. "Spare me the theatrics, Gordon. Shouldn't you be celebrating, spending the rest of your life with that bitch now that we're getting divorced?" I asked.

To think that just yesterday, I was a mess and was on the brink of becoming a murderer. Now, I realize that divorce is not the end of my world. It is my liberation. I flipped my hair back, tilted my chin up, and ordered Tony to press on the accelerator. Today, I am going to celebrate my divorce day!

For eighteen years, my wife, Elizabeth Connerty, never once reached out to her first love, Lucas Ryder. She committed herself fully to me and cooked warm meals for me. She attended every parent-teacher conference for our daughter. She carefully planned our family trips year after year. That was how we lived—quietly, steadily, and happily—for eighteen years. But after our daughter celebrated her eighteenth birthday, I turned to Elizabeth and said, "Let's get a divorce." She stood in the doorway of our daughter's bedroom, staring at me in stunned silence. I added calmly, "When our daughter was born, you promised me that once she turned eighteen, we would divorce."

Sasha froze, caught off guard by Jim’s sudden appearance, and stepped forward as if realizing something. “Jim, after all these years together, you can doubt anyone else, but why me?” Jim snorted coldly and shot her a hard look. “Sasha, we’re done. Divorce papers have already been sent to your place. When you see them, if everything checks out, just sign.” Sasha’s eyes went wide. Disbelief was written all over her face. “You want a divorce? Are you insane, Jim?! If we split, who’s going to take care of you?”