The 99th Divorce Novels & Stories

Henry said, annoyed, "You can't even do such a small thing well!" The second time was because I wore a dress he didn't like. …… The 98th time was because Henry stipulated that I could only send him ten messages a day, and I accidentally sent one extra, a "Goodnight". Each time, I would humbly beg him not to divorce me. The 99th time, I knelt and kissed his shoe, and he barely agreed to withdraw the divorce application. And that night, I unintentionally discovered a cowhide bag locked in a hidden compartment under the attic floor tiles—

“Do not say my name like that and expect me to let it go. You just told me your wife has locked you out of your own company, and you expect me to respond with what exactly? Calm indifference?” He swallowed, the motion tight. “That is not what I expect.” “Then tell me what is going on.” Matthew leaned back again, his head resting briefly against the seat before lifting. “She signed the papers,” he said finally. There was a pause. “What papers?” He did not respond immediately. Sophie’s voice lowered. “Matthew.” “The divorce papers.” Silence followed. "What divorce papers?" Sophie asked. "It's..... I....," Matthew stammered. "Let's not go into that yet."

Legal proof that I'm no longer his. At 9:00 AM, Marcus refreshes the screen. Divorce finalized. Case #2025-47892. Ashford v. Ashford. Decree granted. It's over. Six years of marriage. Months of fighting. Weeks of terror. Over. "Congratulations," Marcus says. "You're officially divorced." I can't speak. Can't process. Just stare at the screen. Divorce finalized. Free. Lucien kisses my temple. "You did it. You're free."

The paper slipped from his fingers and scattered across the floor. The contract clearly stated: Zoey had been given 99 chances. If he chose her even once, she’d be allowed to stay and marry him. If not—she’d be forced to leave the country and never return. And he… He had chosen Claire. Every. Single. Time. He had ignored Zoey. Let her get hurt. Rejected her. Again and again. What the hell had he done? Adrian leaned against the wall, stunned, unable to breathe. Linda finally spoke.

“My daughter is going to be a mother.” Tears stung my eyes again. “Yes.” Victor gave a small approving nod. “That makes things even more complicated.” My father frowned. “What do you mean?” I told him everything. The divorce. The manipulation. The Carter family’s plan. The hidden tests. The inheritance. And the video. By the time I finished, my father’s expression had turned dangerously cold. “So my brother hasn’t changed,” he said quietly. “No,” I replied. “He’s worse.” Sam Speaks

He hadn't thought, hadn't let himself think, that the woman who had saved his father's life could die because he'd cut off her medication. His hand shook so badly the recorder fell out of the certificate's folder and pressed itself on the floor. From the recorder: "Taking pictures after sex was just something Sheila liked to do. I shot tons of them with her. Then I found out she was cheating on me with some bald millionaire and dumped her." "When I was dating Sheila I was rich. Then my family lost everything, and she was hooking up with my best friend by the weekend." "I wasn't dating her. Does a one-night stand count as dating? She knew I was married. We were a transaction at best."

~James~ "You did what? Why would you divorce your wife? You’ve got to be kidding!" my friend Stefan said angrily. I took a slow sip of my drink, pretending not to care. I already knew this was the kind of reaction I’d get. Stefan and the rest of my friends had always taken Rose’s side. Even though they usually stayed out of our personal issues, it was clear where their loyalty stood. Except for Kris, who never liked her. So today wasn’t any different. When they found out I actually divorced Rose, they were shocked.

She interrupted him and said: -Let's see Marcos, this has to be very clear Marcos, I loved you and I loved you very much, you were the love of my life and you have really destroyed everything, everything we built in nine years, in nine years Marcos, you hear it, nine years you threw them away no, no Marcos you don't love me, nor your children, if that were true you would have thought about us before sleeping with that woman, I'm sorry, but go, take your things with you and I will send you to the lawyer for the divorce.

“No. You don’t. You never did.” She opened the door and walked out. As the doors closed, she let out a breath. It was done. After nine years, it was finally done. Kira Ashford was officially divorced.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

he stayed quiet for a moment, and I thought about hanging up until he said the one thing that stopped my heart, “What if I don't want a divorce?” I had to pull the phone away from my ears to make sure I was talking to Jacob Milan because there was no way that he would say something like that, not after everything that happened in our dead marriage; no, he can't be right” Jacob, I don't know what you have been smoking lately, but I want a divorce, and that's finally “I told him before hanging up the phone. And Lucia walks in with a bottle of red wine and two glasses, grabbing it from her. I pour myself a healthy pour because I still can't believe he would say something like that. How dare he