Novel & Cerita I Failed To Divorce My Husband Ch 1

My younger sister, Mindy Sampson, has a rare blood condition. She needs regular blood transfusions and a bone marrow transplant. My husband, Ian Huffman, and I are matches. My mother says we should draw lots. Whoever draws the short stick will become Mindy's blood donor. In the next five years, I am always the one who draws the short stick. Because of constant blood draws and bone marrow extractions, my body breaks down. Before I die, I stumble upon Ian holding Mindy and saying, "Cindy is so stupid. There are only short sticks in the container. Every time, we let her draw first. How could she ever get a long one? "She is going to die without ever knowing you are not sick at all. Once she dies and we get the insurance money, we can travel the world." When I open my eyes again, I am back in the fifth year after Mindy is diagnosed. I look at the container of sticks on the table and smile. Then, I look at Ian and say, "This time, you draw first."

As I head to see my boyfriend, Howard Schultz, who is working late, I get into a car accident. I call him dozens of times for help, but he doesn't answer a single one. Staring at his brightly lit office building not far away, I sink into despair. When I wake up in the hospital, I see a post from his subordinate. It's a picture showing the reflection of the two of them in the glass door, standing far closer than they should, with the caption, "What do I do when my boss is scolding me late at night?" Unwilling to believe it, I call him again. This time, he finally answers. My voice trembles. "Howard, I got into a car accident…" "Celine, I'm still working. I'll send my assistant to take care of it, okay? Be good. I'll see you after I come back from my business trip." I try to say more, but his angry shout suddenly cuts through the line. "Crystal Jennings! You're only allowed to bring one suitcase for this trip. Why do you have three? Do you think we're going on vacation?" Crystal Jennings—the new intern Howard just hired. I stare at the disconnected call, tears drying on my cheeks. I then call my parents instead. "I agree to the engagement you arranged."

Damien and his ex-wife got divorced five years ago, and then he married me. When I married him, he had a 13-year-old adopted daughter named Lily. After our marriage, Damien treated me exceptionally well and I always treated Lily like my own daughter, even when she occasionally showed hostility towards me, I didn't mind. That's normal for a teenage girl. Until my father was accidentally hit by a car and left in a vegetative state, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Damien and his assistant. "Boss, I don't get it. Why block the craniotomy?" the assistant asked, sounding confused. "The doctors say there’s a high chance he could recover. Why are you insisting on conservative treatment?" "He can't wake up," Damien’s voice was suppressed with pain. "He saw Lily's face." I clamped my hand over my mouth, my fingernails digging deep into my flesh. Lily is the adopted daughter of Damien and his late ex-wife, Sarah. Sarah died saving Damien, so he has always treated Lily with a mix of guilt and utter indulgence. Damien continued, his tone incredibly conflicted. " But Lily didn't do it on purpose! She is only thirteen... If she gets a criminal record, her life is over. Sarah’s only dying wish was for me to take care of Lily and see her grow up safe and sound. I can't give up on her." The assistant fell silent for a few seconds. "And what about your wife?" "I’ll make it up to her," Damien’s voice softened. "I’ll provide her with the most prosperous life, and secure the largest private ward along with the best caregivers for her father who’s suffered from the car accident. I don’t care how much it costs." My heart sank completely. Just because you feel guilty towards Sarah and Lily, you're going to sacrifice my father? With trembling hands, I saved the recording and had my lawyer prepare the divorce papers. But when I completely disappeared, the once powerful CEO went mad.

I've stood before a priest and sworn my vows to the same man seven times. And for the seventh time, I've signed divorce papers in front of the family lawyer. At our first wedding, the youngest Capo of the Throne family held my hand and promised, "From this day forward, my life is yours and yours alone." But whenever his childhood sweetheart stirred up trouble and needed his protection, Carter's vow to me would conveniently become a sanctuary for her. "Tessa's in trouble again, Maeve. For your own safety, we have to get a divorce for now." The first time I was forced to divorce, I threatened him with the honor of our families' alliance, even vowing to expose his betrayal at a family gathering. His men dragged me out of the manor. The third time I signed the papers, I humbled myself, sneaking into the family's private club just to catch a glimpse of him from afar. By the sixth time, I had learned to quietly pack my few belongings in this house of lies, without putting up a fight. My breakdowns and desperate, undignified attempts to save us were only ever met with Carter's reliable promise to remarry me, just before another round of the divorce game he played for Tessa's sake. Until this time. After hearing Tessa was returning to New York from Italy, I didn't wait for Carter to speak. I placed the signed divorce papers in his study myself. Just like always, he casually set a date for our remarriage. But he didn't know that day was the day I would disappear from his world forever.

The day my son gained the lifetime achievement award in research, I died alone on the street. On stage, he thanked his father, a professor, and his biological mother, who had just returned from abroad. He even thanked the nanny at home. But he left me out, his foster mother who had raised him. My husband, Charles Zimmer, learned about my death. He immediately disassociated himself from me. “We’ve long separated. I’ve got nothing to do with her.” I had worked hard to give them a decent life, but they regarded me as a stain that they could never remove. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the time of my life when my destiny changed. Holding the college admission letter, Charles smiled at me and said, “Yes, I’m divorced. But we can live in the city together if you marry me. I’ll let you discipline the kid if he makes any mistakes. I won’t complain about you.” During my previous life, he had me fooled by false promises. I naively thought that it would be easy to be a stepmother. I helped him care for his son and worked hard to support the family. In the end, they conspired with each other to drive me out and leave me penniless. It was because Charles’ ex-wife, who had abandoned them when he was poor, wanted to come home and remarry him. Since I had gained a second chance, I planned to dump such an ungrateful husband and son.

Charlie Sinclair married me to punish me. He had a reason. He believed it. He never asked me a single question about it in three years. He never looked at my face for three years either. Then the woman he had been waiting for came home, and he handed me the divorce papers without looking up. He never knew I left that house carrying a secret. Two of them. I came back five years later with an empire he does not know I built, and two children he does not know are his. Yesterday he saw me at JFK. For the first time in eight years, he looked. He knelt down and handed my daughter her ball, and he did not know whose eyes were looking back at him. Too late, Mr. Sinclair. I am no longer the wife you could not see.

Every tear I shed feeds his ego. Every whimper, his pride. Every bruise he leaves behind, his silent claim over me. He takes me cold. Leaves me ruined. And I wait - quiet, breathless, for the next time he comes back to break me again. He thinks he has me in the palm of his hand. Thinks I’m nothing without him. A fragile wife, meek, obedient. A weakness he never needed. I let him believe it. I never tried to break the illusion. As long as I have his hands on me, As long as his shadows reach for me, That’s enough. But in the dark, daggers roam. And with every sound my heels make, they fall. He still thinks I’m glass, But he hasn’t heard me shatter.

After I landed in the hospital—again—from working myself into the ground, Jacob swore he was done playing house stockbroker. "Starting tomorrow, I'll do anything. Haul bricks, deliver pizza, whatever. I'm not letting you carry this alone." His eyes were glassy as he stormed out of the exam room like he was about to save the day or something. Then the doctor walked in and handed me a report. I was pregnant. Again. Heart racing, I chased after Jacob... and froze. He was standing outside some super VIP room. The same guys who used to bang on our door for money were suddenly all respectful. "Mr. Klein, should we block her door again tomorrow?" Jacob twirled our engagement ring around his finger. "No need. She already lost one baby paying off those debts. The test's over. Time she knew who I really am." Then my best friend—Lillian Morvain—strolled out and wrapped her arms around his waist like she belonged there. "Jacob, don't go soft. Your tests usually last at least five years. What if she's just another gold digger? Plus... I'd miss you." He hesitated. Smirked. "Fine. We'll do it your way. She's not going anywhere anyway." I stood there, clutching my stomach, sliding down the wall like the air had been punched out of me. Later, I pushed open the office door. "Dr. Spencer, I need a termination. Three days from now."

My husband is the Don of the entire New York East Coast Mafia. For ten years, I dimmed my own light to be his perfect silent partner, the dutiful wife who gave him the perfect heir. I thought we were the lovers who wou ld die for each other. Then came a mere associat. My husband and son had formed an alliance with the woman who seem want to take my place. But they just said, "Elena, you have the crown and the kingdom. She has nothing but us. Be generous." So, to make her smile, my husband trampled on my dignity again and again. To please her, my son affectionately calls her "Mom." In their eyes, I was the iron wall, the woman who would swallow any insult for the sake of the family honor. Until the fire. My husband locked me inside the burning room, to let me "reflect" on my jealousy. He didn't know that the fire didn't kill me. But it burned away the last ash of my love for him.

Grace is forced into marriage with Damon Croft, the Rival Alpha who swore to destroy her father’s bloodline by entering what looked like a revenge marriage arrangement only to for it to become a curse-bound marriage. Where neither could leave. In a world ruled by Lycans, fated mates are rare…and even cruelly binding and what escalates things is that Damon doesn’t hide his hate for her. He doesn’t love her and he only wished to make her pay for her fathers sins, one day at a time but the moon goddess mark upon them complicates things and Damon swears he’ll never accept it. Grace, born mute and treated as a ghost in her own home refuses to beg for his mercy. Every time he tries to break her, she finds another way to defy him and every act of defiance blurs the line between hatred and obsession. Until everything is at stake and what they think they know is not what they know. Their whole lives have been someone’s needlework of manipulation and greed. She can’t stand him but he can't get enough of her.