Sign It Now, Ex-husband! Novels & Stories

"He doesn't want you anymore. I'm back, and he only needs someone beautiful and classy like me, not a 'wifey' type like you." I was stunned, barely hearing her words, but they couldn't erase the painful truth: my husband no longer wanted me. It was all too clear—from the way his ex was in our house, wearing his shirt, and how at ease she seemed in our home. His actions and words made everything painfully obvious. Not to mention what might have happened between them last night while I was away. "Where's the pen?" I finally said, defeated. Judie was stunned. I could tell she hadn't expected me to say that, and honestly, neither had I. There was no taking back my words now, so I took the pen fr

Turning around, I called him over with my eyes, and he came, taking deliberate steps, his expression showing shock and disbelief. Reaching me, he looked at me as if wanting to be sure of something. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. I was still holding out the pen to him, but he hesitated—then finally took it. Without further hesitation, he bent, and I watched as he wrote down his signature. I nearly fainted when he finished. “My wife.” His finger traced my signature, and I felt blood rush through my veins as my heart pumped faster than normal. Oh Lord, it happened. Just one last step, and legally, Rodrigo would be my husband again–well, politically, but still.

"Then sign. And we're officially in business." I take the pen, hover it over the signature line. This is really happening. I'm entering into a contractual fake marriage with a man I barely know to destroy my ex-husband. The absurdity of it almost makes me laugh. But I don't laugh. I sign. Damien countersigns. Then he pours us both more scotch. "To revenge," he says, raising his glass. "To revenge," I echo. We drink. The scotch burns going down, warm and grounding.

Took a long drink. Then I saw the papers. DIVORCE AGREEMENT. The water splashed out of my mouth onto the papers. “What the hell?” I grabbed the folder and flipped it to the last page. Harper’s signature and beside it… my signature. My stomach dropped. When did I sign this? No. I didn’t. No fucking way. I would remember signing divorce papers. Then suddenly… “Fine. Give me the pen.” The memory hit me hard. Two days ago. Harper standing in the kitchen holding papers toward me while Rowena was hurting.

He kissed my forehead gently and said in a warm voice, "I know you only acted that way because you love me so much, and I do feel guilty about it." "But I have to say, you've really matured lately. To make it up to you, we'll pick out rings tomorrow and set a wedding date. I want the whole world to know you're my woman." "Married?" Before he could finish, I laughed softly. I took a step back, out of his reach. I pulled my hand from my pocket. With a sharp snap, I slapped the dissolution agreement onto the desk in front of him. The one bearing his signature and the family seal.

But there was nothing left to fight for. I took a long, shaking breath, grabbed a pen, and signed my name. That was it. I was no longer his wife. No longer Mrs. Robinson. I reached for my suitcase and began to pack my things. All I could hope for was that one day Leo would not regret this decision.

"I'm not signing anything. We're going to work on our marriage, like we've always done." “You just need some space to heal and forgive me,” he added. Valerie's laughter was cold and mirthless. "You're delusional." “I'm not.” He held up the divorce papers and tore it in half, then tore it into another half, and another, until he had small pieces in his hands. He littered them on her desk. “We're going to work on our marriage and that's final.” Val shrugged and opened the laptop on her desk. “I'll just have another one prepared for you to sign,” she mumbled.

I blinked rapidly, as tears began blurring my vision, but I kept desperately hoping I was hallucinating from the sheer lack of sleep and the agonizing stress of the past few weeks. But then, Damian suddenly spoke and his voice sliced through the heavy silence of the room. "Sign them, and get out of my house Nina. This sham of a marriage is over," he hissed, in a tone as cold and sharp as cracked ice. I stared up at him, my heart hammering violently against my ribs in disbelief. We had literally just gotten back from the graveyard. The damp dirt on Grandfather’s casket hadn't even settled yet. He hadn't been resting in the earth for a full day, and my husband was already casting me aside like

Everything I Bled For She lost the baby on the stairs. She lost her husband to the woman who pushed her. Anna Whitfield spent two years trying for a baby with the man she loved. The night she finally got her two pink lines, she ran home to tell him, and never made it past the staircase. His mistress pushed her. His mistress’s baby survived. Hers didn’t. And when Anna woke up in a hospital bed, broken and bleeding, her husband wasn’t holding her hand. He was feeding grapes to the woman who put her there. That should have been the worst night of her life. It wasn’t even close. Because the Whitfields don’t let go of what they think belongs to them, and Anna is about to learn exactly ho