Eric Ferguson Divorce Novels & Stories

Creighton shook his head, “I'm sorry but I won't accept that. I made a mistake that night. I should never have divorced you, I searched for you for so long but my efforts were futile. Priscilla please understand that–” I scoffed, surprised by the words coming out of his mouth. This was the same man that once said I was being too dramatic when Chloe showed up. He'd told me to my face that he no longer wanted to be with me. What was there to understand?! “Aren't you happily married? Shouldn't you be with your perfect wife right now? What are you doing here?” I queried him, crossing my arms. He stiffened the moment I heard that, and that made me wonder if he was really married. Well, it didn't

“He doesn’t love her anymore. They’ve just been together too long. He was waiting for the right time to bring it up. And they don’t even have kids.” She leaned back, smug. “Just wait. Once my son is born, he’ll divorce her.” “What if he’s lying to you?” her friend asked carefully. “You remember what happened last time… when you dropped out of college for that married man—” “Shut up!” Bella snapped, almost shouting before lowering her voice. “Don’t ruin my day bringing him up. I checked this time, alright? Eric’s casino is doing great. And his wife has nothing to do with it. Even if they divorce, she won’t get any of it.”

James Ferguson's power extended to silencing the media and controlling the narrative. "I am the bride," I said, my voice clear and unwavering. "But James Ferguson and I have been secretly married for over three years. Today's wedding did not take place, and we are getting divorced. This is big news. If any media outlets you know want this headline, please ask them to hurry up and come." I hung up, ignoring Sister Jing's stunned silence. James Ferguson, sitting in the car, had heard every word. His face, already dark, turned a shade darker, his features contorted with a fury that made my blood run cold. The facade of composure had finally shattered, revealing the raw, unbridled anger beneath.

"Stop joking around. I had a tiring day. I've told you Wesley is just a colleague of mine." I slammed my bowl and retorted, "What kind of colleagues share the same bowl of soup? Are there not enough bowls or something?" She stood up and glared at me as she shouted, "Stop being ridiculous, Ryan Wagner! We're married indeed, but you have no right to interfere with what I do. "I know you regret marrying me. You're impatient and frustrated because you want a divorce. The Wagners aren't as glorious as they used to be, huh? What a joke."

We had been married for three years, but Kit Rutgers still hadn’t made it official with me. Today marked his one-thousandth successful flight—a major milestone—and the seventeenth time he had promised to go with me to register our marriage. But during the celebration banquet, while his commanding officer pressured me into drinking, Kit sat across the table, feeding and clinking glasses with his female trainee, Katy Ferguson. Meanwhile, I fought through a high fever, drinking until I nearly blacked out, and he didn’t even spare me a glance.

Because now there were only two possibilities left: Someone had taken the documents after Sebastian’s father died— or his father had removed them before he died. Neither possibility felt safe. Sebestian stared ahead, jaw locked tightly enough to hurt. Lena finally broke the silence. “What was your relationship with him recently?” His eyes didn’t leave the road ahead. “Complicated.” “That’s not an answer.” A humorless smile flickered briefly. “It’s the only honest one.” She waited. Eventually he exhaled slowly. “We barely spoke after the divorce.” Lena looked toward him carefully. “Because of me?” That finally made him glance at her.

“Getting married. Living a happy life after they threw me away to die. I always thought they might one day regret what they did. That they were reflecting on their actions. But no.” Her jaw tightened. “So I decided to get back on my feet.” “That’s perfect,” Marcus said. Marcus pulled out his phone. “I also want to see what that cruel man had to say.” He scrolled for a moment, then sighed heavily and looked up at her. “You won’t believe what he said.” Maya’s heart clenched. “What?” “When he was asked about his ex-wife, he posted on I*******m that you had a lover. That you willingly signed the divorce papers and that the child you were carrying belonged to that lover.”

Betty said contemptuously. Margaret cried her heart out. It was unfortunate that she was out of the right to divorce him; neither could he. Their marriage was a form of ‘debt agreement’ between their parents. Margaret's father, who incurred large debts from Ramson Shun's father, was left with no option but to give out his only daughter in marriage to Ramson Shun, with a condition of no divorce without a child. Depressed and heartbroken, Margret convinced her husband to relocate from California to New York but had her eyes on Betty all the time.

The last time we saw each other, things had ended badly, and ever since then, she’d treated me with nothing but cold indifference. She really knew how to play her games, didn’t she? “What’s with the sudden invitation?” Sean asked as he lounged comfortably on a barstool. I’d asked him out for drinks in the middle of the night. “I’m celebrating,” I answered before finishing the rest of the liquor in my glass. “Celebrating what? Did something happen?” “I’m getting divorced.” He let out a dramatic gasp. “She agreed?” he asked, disbelief written all over his face. “She was the one who brought it up this time.”

“Let’s not pretend otherwise.” Each word struck like a blade. What? Not real? “I’m choosing them,” he continued without hesitation. “Elise and my son. I want a divorce.”