The Silent Betrayal And A Hidden Divorce Novels & Stories

Another telltale sign that something was going on, because my husband never drank—or at least not in my presence. No matter how pissed, curious, and worried I was, I gave Elias the silent treatment. Each time I woke up to see him, my heart leapt in excitement, body warming all over. But once I remembered his secrets, the anger and frustration returned full force, causing me to ignore his existence. Elias didn’t fight back or force me to talk to him. He just shadowed me. Once, I thought he was going to push me to speak, but instead, he disappeared.

I shrugged off the thought, grabbed my suitcase and jacket, and headed out. She had probably just gone to her parents’ house. Where else could she go? They would surely knock some sense into her head about how to be a good wife and send her back. My eyes darted up to the file in front of me as my assistant entered the office. Without a word, he placed a file on the table in front of me with a court bow. “I think you need to see this, sir,” he said before stepping back. I took off my glasses and pulled the file closer, flipping it open to find the emboldened words Divorce Proceedings. I frowned and continued to scan the papers. She had already signed them.

“If I hadn’t done that, you would have gone away with Adam long ago, wouldn’t you?” “So, it was all a calculated act?” I was up on my feet, backing away, avoiding his touch. “David, you make me feel sick. Your love is even more suffocating than this fire.” I looked at him, then at Lily, who had a triumphant smirk on her face. At that moment, the thought of the aggressive tumor inside me and that poor little fetus seemed to fade into the background against the magnitude of this awful deception. “Divorce is my redemption,” I said softly. “This time, no lies can keep me.”

A divorce would cost too much bad press, bad timing, and Melinda had more friends in the design world than I liked to admit. So Vanessa and I made a plan. The photos. The staged betrayal. The right push at the right moment. And it worked until she showed up before we were ready. “She didn’t scream,” Vanessa said suddenly, almost disappointed. “She just looked… shattered.” “She’ll cry it out in some hotel bathroom and go back to her pretty little spreadsheets,” I muttered. “Melinda doesn’t have the guts to walk away.” Something felt off. It wasn’t disgust. I’d seen that before. This was worse. It was the silence. She didn’t say a word. The way she didn’t crumble right there in front of us.

A wave of unease crept into Arabella’s heart. She recalled the chain of events that had led her to this moment. How, in her lowest state, she had agreed to marry a man she didn’t know. How she had stood in front of a mirror just hours ago, wearing a simple dress with a shattered heart. How her wedding had taken place without the presence of her family. Just a day ago, Arabella had been drowning in emotions after uncovering Mike and Helena’s betrayal. “So this is what you’ve been doing behind my back?” Arabella’s voice trembled with a mix of rage and unbearable pain.

That same smile other girls probably trusted too. “You’re quiet,” he said. “Just tired,” I replied. Another lie. We sat there, side by side, pretending nothing had happened, while something inside me was already bleeding softly. I wanted to ask. I wanted to scream. I wanted to know why loving him felt like sharing him with invisible people. But fear sat heavier than truth. So I stayed silent. And in that silence, I learned something strange: Sometimes you don’t discover betrayal. It discovers you. And after that day, nothing really stayed the same.

"I’m going to my office. Don't interrupt me unless the building is on fire." He retreated to the inner sanctum of his private office, the silence mocking him. He looked at his hands. He could still feel the way she had trembled under him last night. He could still hear her broken cry of “I love you.” He closed his eyes, trying to summon the hatred he had nurtured for three years. She’s a Vance. Her blood is poison. She deserves this. But the smell of vanilla wouldn't leave his lungs. Back at the mansion, the afternoon sun was beginning to fade, casting long, skeletal shadows across the bedroom floor. Elara hadn't moved. She was staring at the divorce papers, the ink of her husband’s signatur

“I am now.” The words ripple outward, immediate and irreversible. “And did you feel betrayed?” I consider the question. “Yes,” I say. “But not just personally.” Her brows knit. “What do you mean?” “I mean betrayal isn’t only about romance,” I say. “It’s about power. About people deciding what truths you’re allowed to know.” Somewhere, a producer gasps. “I was engaged to a man who believed silence was protection,” I continue. “And best friends with a woman who believed winning justified everything.”

I fell to my knees in tears as I signed the papers and begged him to spare my family. But the next second, my parents were still hurled from the top of the drop tower ride. “No!” I screamed. When I woke up, I was back on the day Harry Forger had handed me the divorce papers. This time, I slammed both the divorce papers and my resignation letter on his desk. “As you wish.” Harry snorted as soon as I said that. “Anna Wesley, I asked for a divorce, and you hand me a resignation letter? Do you think quitting will make me feel sorry for you and that I’ll back down?”

Of course, they truly hated Ravelina. “That’s right, it’s better to just divorce!” the others said. Viona looked smug, while Regan remained silent, just as Ravelina did. “I do not agree with this divorce lawsuit.” Regan grabbed the divorce documents and tore them apart right in front of the entire Dominic family. Ravelina was certainly shocked to see what her husband did, as were Viona and several members of the Dominic family present there. “Regan, didn’t you want to divorce this barren woman, …”