Repulse The Ex Husband Novel Novels & Stories

When she saw them, she let go of my hand immediately. “Pathetic bitch.” She said as she turned to leave. I pulled her back by her hand and slapped her. Hard. “Don’t you ever insult me? I won’t take that from you.” I said angrily. She had already taken my husband. What made her think she could disrespect me like that? At this time, Skye had come out from the fitting room and passersby were already noticing the commotion. She held her cheek in shock. “Did you just slap me?”

VIOLET I couldn't go to work the next day because the level of guilt burning me was inexplicable. That was Stewart—my ex-husband. I had vowed that nothing would happen between us, but something didn't just happen; I fucked him like a beast. The following day, I resumed office like nothing happened and began the day. If I wanted to forget about everything, I needed to invest myself in the loads of work in the company. The day started great. There was no problem. The guilty feeling was rapidly reducing, and my life was slowly getting back on track until it was past lunch and a knock came on.

Seeing that she was enjoying the story, Yasmin continued, "The old man didn’t want them to divorce. Jordan was always a free spirit. She had already been trapped in a loveless marriage for three years just to fulfill her grandfather’s will. She said it herself—there’s marriage law protection, but she’s restricted even when trying to date. But for some reason, even though her ex-husband didn’t like her and hadn’t contacted her for three years, as if she wasn’t his wife, when she brought up the divorce, he refused to agree." Jane quickly asked, "They still haven’t divorced?" Yasmin shook her head. "No, her ex-husband even started pursuing her now." "Exciting." Jane hurriedly took a sip of tea

The sheer nerve of him to falsely accuse his wife of cheating, while he accompanied his mistress to her checkup! [His poor wife! I guess nobody can have it all, huh? We all thought she hit the jackpot by landing herself a charming, rich husband, but turns out he's an utter scum. The sheer nerve of him to turn the narrative against poor Nikita! I bet he's using his power and money against her!] [Does anyone know what the mistress is doing at the hospital? Do tell!] The original poster replied a few minutes later. [She's here to get an abortion.]

After her, he is the closest person I can consider a friend. He spitted out the drink and stared at me like I have grown two heads. “You mean Madeline Parker, your ex-wife?” He repeated my words in a question form. I cringed at how he called Madeline my ‘ex-wife’. We aren’t divorced yet. “Yes, she came to my office. To be honest, I didn’t expect her to cling on our marriage. It was a surprise for me. All these years, I lived with this thought that she forgot me and moved on in her life but she was actually waiting for me and now, I am feeling like a pathetic asshole.” I confessed, guilt pooled in my heart.

“I want a divorce! You don't deserve to be a father or a husband. You don't even deserve to have a home. I can't stand your torments anymore and that's why I want a divorce!” "Over my dead body!” Desmond growled angrily and shredded the documents into pieces right in her face. Freya gasped in shock as Desmond flung the pieces of paper at her. The shredded pieces of paper slid down her body like confetti and the edges grazed her skin like sharp knives. “Never will it be recorded in the history of billionaires that a poor woman like you dumped her billionaire husband because of something this small.” After glaring intensely at her, he grabbed his luggage and pulled it up the stairs behind him

And now, he was here, looking impossibly gorgeous and collected, on the very night I left his son at the altar. “I’m giving you a choice,” he said, his smooth voice dropping even lower as he crowded me against the wall. “You can close the door right now and walk away. Or you can let me inside and let me fuck you exactly like you described in those stories—helpless, dripping, screaming my name while your ex-fiancé is still wondering why his bride ran away.” The image of Julian’s shocked, humiliated face flashed through my mind, immediately followed by the memory of his cock slamming into Sophia’s pussy.

“What are you doing Skyla.? Are you out of your mind.?! Paul screamed at me tossing the pills into his pockets. “Yes.! I'm out of my mind. And guess what.? The only way i can get back my senses is dying.! I screamed back at him. He sighed deeply and began to say something, but i didn't hear him as the effects of the drugs began to kick in and i fell asleep. The next morning, i woke up with a splitting migraine. I struggled to get out of bed when my door swung open. It was Jason. The husband I've tried so much to hate. “What are you doing here.? After all you've done to me. No apology. Am i even your wife.?! I asked in anger my eyes turning red. He scoffed. “Apology.? I owe you no damned apol

While I was upstairs curling my hair and checking the oven, he’d already decided the marriage was over. “Leave,” I said. Julian stayed where he was. My hand was shaking hard enough beneath the table that I had to close it into a fist. “Julian, just— get out.” My voice cracked on the last word. He looked at me for a second without saying anything. Then he turned and walked away. I kept staring at the laptop screen even though I couldn’t read a single word on it anymore. His footsteps crossed the apartment slowly. A pause near the front door. Then the soft click when it shut behind him. That was it.

But then Amaya appeared like a nightmare in high heels, dragging reality behind her like a net. And suddenly I remembered exactly who Damien Vaughn was — or who he had been to me. The ex-husband who had broken me in ways I still hadn’t fully recovered from. The man I’d said goodbye to so many times, only to be pulled back into his orbit again. The person I had promised myself I would never let close enough to hurt me again. Yet here we were. Again. I sat upright in bed, leaning against the headboard, a book open on my lap. I’d been staring at the same page for fifteen minutes. The words kept slipping out of focus, tumbling into a blur of letters my mind refused to hold.