Divorced At Eighteen Novels & Stories

She chuckled to prevent her tears from flowing. “When I turned 18, I ran away from home, got married, become a mother at age 19, become a widow at age 20. What most women experienced in their lifetime I experienced in two years. I felt so lost at the time but no matter how lost I felt, I just know I couldn’t go back. And the only way is to move one step at a time. No matter what direction I took as long as it’s not backwards is okay by me”

Cara may only have been sixteen, but she looked and acted every bit of twenty-one. I lived alone - my wife of eleven years having taken off with a drummer for a rock band, a kid ten years younger than she was. I hadn't heard from her and I hoped that I never would. If she would just stay away for another six months I would be able to sue for divorce on the grounds of abandonment and I would get the house and everything and the bitch wouldn't get a dime.

Anna's POV Mother left for work after dropping the bombshell. My marriage with Aidan has an expiry date. Is this like a contract or what? I don't even know whether to be happy or sad. Happy because I won't spend forever with Mr. Arrogant and sad because I will get divorced at an early age. I am just 24 and in the next 6 years, I will be 30. I am sad that I am going to get a divorce at 30.

Amber Pov I still can't believe how fast things happened. Two days ago, my marital status was still single but now I am already a married woman. I feel like I'm having a nightmare. Yes. It was a nightmare for me because I married a man I didn't know very well. And I am just eighteen years old. Too young to get married. I never thought that I will marry a stranger and enter into a contract marriage. Even if it was just a contract marriage and we will divorce after six months, I still got married and I will become a divorced woman at a young age. But as of now, I am Mrs. Pauline Amber Cruz-Salvatore.

I nod, getting comfy and ready to tell my story, well the Adrian’s anyway. “I joined the army at eighteen, I met my wife, or rather ex-wife at twenty, and we married a few years later. The stress of my army work pulled us apart, and we got divorced around four years ago. My mum passed away last year, my dad a few years before that. I don’t have any siblings.” She nods looking at me, clearly buying the story.

“What happened? Where’s Cassian?” I laughed a hollow, broken sound. “It’s over,” I said. She blinked. “What do you mean, over?” I reached into the small clutch I’d carried all night and pulled out the folded copy of the divorce agreement I’d slipped inside without even thinking. Naomi unfolded it. Her face drained of color. “He” She looked up at me, eyes blazing. “He divorced you? Tonight?” I nodded. On my wedding night. Naomi swore under her breath. “That bastard.”

"So far you are a very interesting person. I'm enjoying your company. I wasn't going to ask." Her hand over mine, briefly, "I warned you. I'm not going to do it again." "I'll take my chances. But since you offered." Her hand back on the arm of her chair, leans back, eyes closed. "I'm divorced, five years. I was a mouse when I married Karl. Nineteen, young, immature, sheltered. He's older, six years. He thought mousy and shy were cute, to a point. Then he found a tattooed bartender, fifteen years younger. I got recycled."

Am a 29 old divorcée with little dating experience, no kids, the thought of loving someone else scares me to death, life without Zach is meaningless. Mom whispered several words of consolation to me as she slowly led me to my room.

Kara said. Noelle hadn't expected Kara to defend her. "Thank you, Dr. Poole." Kara's expression softened as she looked at Noelle. "So, you're divorced, huh?" Noelle's lips curled slightly. "Yes." Kara seemed a bit surprised. "You really don't look it. You're so young... I thought you'd just graduated from university." Noelle had skipped grades in elementary school, so she entered university earlier than most—and entered marriage earlier, too.

I started the conversation. I chose not to head straight to the point, just to ensure a smooth conversation. I wanted to be certain that Dante paid full attention, to avoid making it seem as though I was speaking to myself alone. “Get on with it immediately. I am all ears,” he consented. “I am filing for divorce. Olivia and I have decided to go our separate ways,” I unleashed the bombshell that forced Dante to leave his seated position. “What did you just say? This must be a prank, isn't it? Wait a minute! What has this got to do with Adrian?”