Misha Collins Divorce Novels & Stories

“Enough.” “You don’t understand, Angel.” He continued to ramble, more for his sake than for mine. “I know, I haven’t been very attentive lately, and yes I messed up with the Florida trip, but we love one another and we can make things right again between us, Ari. I know …” “I want a divorce, Misha.” He chokes on his next words. “You want what?” “A divorce,” I say again. “I’m done.” Misha shook his head as a slow smirk spread across his face.

She decided not to take the conversation further but to back away from it now, before it becomes a neighbourhood scandal. After this long discussion that existed between Vivian and her father, he decided this would probably be a good time to drop this entire conversation until he sees Charles face-to- face. He knew that discussing matters face-to-face were more than million letters, e-mails, telegrams and phone calls. Vivian and her mother left the piazza to the courtyard, though the admonishing words of her father over divorce discord had critically thrown her into a state of confusion. Her ideology to remarry was subdued by those strong warnings that her father rattled concerning the turn

The intensity in his eyes that could command a boardroom but never seemed to focus on me. He was a masterpiece. A cold, untouchable masterpiece. And I was tired of being the ghost in his mansion. Tired of loving a man who looked through me, of pretending my heart wasn’t slowly shattering, piece by piece, night after lonely night. Something inside me snapped. Not with a bang, but with a whisper. A quiet, final surrender. “I want a divorce, Damian.” The words hung in the air, it was sharp and clear. He froze. For the first time in three years, his eyes locked onto mine. Not a sweep, a look full of shock and confusion.

"You can't do this! We were married three years!" "Three years?" My voice cut through the speaker, ice-cold. "You earn any of it? The house? The rides? The drip? Even your old man's still breathing 'cause you wore my ring. It's done. Everything goes back where it belongs." His face drained, like he was watching his own funeral. Sofia slammed the divorce papers to his chest. "Sign it. Our principessa ain't got time for clowns." Then we walked. Left them in the dirt.

After five years of marriage, Melody finally realized—she had never truly married anyone. The marriage certificate was forged. Her husband, Adam, was legally wed to her best friend, Lily. And Melody? She had been the most innocent pawn in a meticulously crafted deception. The betrayals didn’t stop there. Her supposed infertility was a lie, and the child she had poured her love into raising was, in fact, Adam and Lily’s biological son. Five years of devotion—through their eyes, she had served only three purposes: a free housekeeper, a cheap business partner, and a disposable pawn. She had believed in love. That, above all, was her greatest folly. Yet Melody didn’t break. She didn’

He's living there with that woman right now. Priscilla wiped away the tears on her face. At that moment, her heart was utterly broken. She had no idea that Frederick had been lying to her and betraying her for so many years. But she was laughably reluctant to divorce him. She felt like an idiot. In the end, she made up her mind to divorce him, and she even gave him ten million dollars. She was an idiot through and through! Just then, Mitchell pretended to speak weakly, "Pris, Frederick's inheritance should have been shared property between you and him as a married couple.

“It’ll all pass, Evie. Our lives will only get better from here.” She nodded with a smile. “That’s right. Those scumbags can wallow in their own regret, while we’ll live happily ever after!” Her parents were furious to find out about her divorce. It was a marriage of convenience, after all, and the two families were business partners. They could not break things up that easily. She did not want to hear their nagging at home, so both of us moved into the villa she had bought before her marriage. As we were cooped up on the couch watching a game show that night, Caleb called her. “Why did you take everything away?”

His hands are locked in mine as we both stare at the journalist. “It feels so good watching both of you come back together,” she says, beaming. “Is there a reason why both of you separated in the first place?” Mihir squeezes my hand, making me talk at once. “All couples need space. We thought that was what we needed. We just didn’t know that we would need space to the extent of actually getting a divorce. We probably got back to our senses and got back together.” Mihir nods his head in approval. One wrong move, and I could get my first night in the basement since I got back.

Freddie's POV "You did what? She's your wife, and you want to divorce her because Judie is back? You've got to be kidding," Collin said, his voice laced with anger. I stayed silent, letting my expression make it clear that I wasn't interested in hearing anything Collin had to say. Collin and the rest of my friends had dropped by my office, and when they learned I was divorcing Lessie, they were all shocked but not exactly surprised. Only Collin, who had always been friendly with Lessie, refused to accept it.

After requesting an extended leave from my boss, I boarded a flight abroad. Of course, before leaving, I didn't forget to send Sebastian the divorce papers I had prepared long ago, along with the evidence of his affair that I had gathered. If he had any sense, he would sign them. If not, things would only get ugly in the end. This trip had no fixed destination—I just wanted to get away, see new places, taste new foods. Life had to go on. There was no need to punish myself for someone else's mistakes.