Leaving Behind My Nine-year Marriage 소설 & 이야기

I asked, trying to sound upbeat. “I don't want to be single. I was married for nine years and thought everything was going great until it wasn’t. I found out my partner had been cheating on me for over a year. I felt so stupid. Then angry. I still do. I thought I'd be happily married with a family by now but instead I'm single, no kids, feeling angry and bitter. Sorry, that was probably more than you bargained for.” “It’s a lot,” I agreed.

“You’re being dramatic. Cassidy needed immediate attention.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “I was thrown on a rooftop…” I stopped, swallowing the words. He wouldn’t care. “The wedding is off. I’m not marrying Jude Morrow.” “You’re being selfish, ungrateful,” Father snapped. “After everything we’ve done for you, after the life we’ve given you.” “The life Mother gave me,” I corrected. “Everything comes from her family, her money. You’ve just been spending it.” His hand twitched, and I feared he might strike me.

She sang the song for eight minutes, and it made me think of the eight years I had spent with her. I had had a crush on Celia since college. It had been a full eight years from college to starting work. During that time, she was constantly entangled with her first love, and I tolerated it. She was forced to marry me for her family's company, and I tolerated that as well. Now, looking at my furious parents in the distance and at Celia and Shane gazing at each other with deep affection, I suddenly wanted to put a stop to it all. Perhaps sensing that something was off with me, Celia put down the microphone and slowly approached me. "Zane Lindell, forgive me. Shane said that it's the last time.

However, the girl he once loved in his youth would never again see him as the boy she loved. "Twelve years ago, I confessed to you beneath a ginkgo tree. Twelve years later, I'm asking you to marry me beneath one." A proposal. I almost laughed. So he did know we were divorced, and not just once, but nine times. I'd spent eight long years clinging to those beautiful memories. In the end, all they brought me was a ninth divorce. Those memories had turned into a joke to me. They were the beginning of every pain I hated most today.

I ruined my marriage of convenience with Hailey only to get this attitude. Well, for Hailey, it had been a marriage of love. For me, it was a means for get out of the pauper life. "Nine years I've loved you. Nine years I've done everything I could to make you happy and satisfied. This is how you repay me?!" I wagged the divorce papers before her. She chuckled. "Guess what you did to Hailey is coming back to you." Blood drained from my face at her words as I glared in surprise and disbelief. "You say that to my face, huh?"

As I begin to share the painful details of my failed marriage, each word feels like a weight lifted off my chest. "I thought... I thought he could love me too, but it was always Megan in his heart. I was just a convenience." My voice is cracking. "That day... after we made love, he asked me to end our marriage. It was like a slap in the face. And then he left... He left me there, alone, to be with Megan." Nancy pats my back, trying to give me some comfort. "You deserve love, respect, and happiness, my dear. Don't ever forget that. It's time to focus on yourself and rebuild your life, free from the turmoil of this relationship."

We are just two strange people who got married because of our parent's selfish interests. “You have just 20 days to let me go, Liam," I said before leaving the room.

"I was laid up in the hospital for over ten days just getting patched up. The day I got out, Isak offered to come get me. I told him no. I've had Maria handling the handover for me, on the quiet. My flight's in three days. Now there's just one last piece of business before I'm gone. I took a cab back to our downtown penthouse. The moment I walked in, the familiar decor felt suffocating. Every object was a reminder of this sham of a marriage—our photo on the living room table, his things on the vanity, the vase from our honeymoon in Italy. I started with the photos. I pulled them from their frames, one by one, looking at the girl who still believed in fairy tales. Our wedding photo, me beamin

In the background, I could hear Anne’s sweet voice asking him how the soup she’d made tasted. It struck me then—years ago, when Evan was trying to win me over, he’d worried about how I often skipped meals while studying. He’d show up at the library with homemade soup in a brightly pink thermos, the cheerful hue completely at odds with his serious demeanor. His smile back then was as warm and radiant as the summer sun filtering through the green leaves overhead. But those moments were long gone, scattered like fallen leaves, leaving nothing but the ache of faded sincerity. I pushed aside my lingering sadness and said calmly, "If you don’t come back right now, I’m filing for divorce."

The nurse that came with them said to him, I didn't bother raising my head till they were gone, I finally closed the laptop and sighed deeply, it's been eight fucking years why does it hurt seeing him happily married, he left me and got married to someone else while I suffered through thick and thin, under the rain under the sun, and he still had the guts to appear in front of me?