
Isabella Grey, Harbor City's richest heiress, has one rule in relationships: she only keeps boyfriends for a month, never letting feelings get in the way. Men are lining up all over town to date her, and honestly, who can blame them? If you're lucky, she might throw a villa your way. If not, a million-dollar breakup check is still yours. Everyone in Harbor City loves laughing at me behind my back. They call me the most pathetic kept husband in history, and they aren't wrong. Everyone thinks I'll just take it forever. Then Isabella brought home this college kid named Trevor Mason. He was completely average looking, nothing special about him at all. But somehow, he broke her one-month rule. She actually kept him around. One day, Isabella gave me two choices. Option one was to accept an open marriage and let Trevor have equal standing with me as her partner. Option two was to divorce her, take half her assets, and we'd call it even. Her friends were all standing around watching this go down, and I could see it on their faces. They were absolutely sure I'd pick the money and keep playing the fool. I didn't even hesitate and took the divorce. See, in my past life, I chose to put up with it. I thought I was being smart and playing the long game. But Trevor just got worse and worse. He told Isabella she couldn't touch me anymore. He told her she couldn't have my kids. By the time we got old, I watched Trevor surrounded by his grandkids while I had nobody. And when Isabella finally died, her will didn't even mention my name. Every single thing she owned went straight to Trevor. I spent my whole life being known as Isabella's husband, but I ended up completely alone. This time around, I finally get it. Take the money and leave. Cut all ties with her and never look back.
I grab the divorce papers and read through everything carefully. Then I sign my name without hesitating. Isabella actually speaks up, and there's this tension in her voice that she probably doesn't even realize. "Caspian, you better be sure about this. Once you sign, there's no going back." My hand doesn't stop. The pen glides across the paper in one smooth stroke. Signed. Done. "I'll pack my stuff and get out of here today." Regret? Not a chance. In my past life, I thought bringing Trevor home was just another twisted way for her to get back at me. I was naive enough to believe that after all those years together, she had to feel something for me. What a joke. She and Trevor had two kids within three years and stayed madly in love until they were old. Meanwhile, I was just this awkward piece of furniture in the house, embarrassed for half my life and laughed at for the other half. It wasn't until we were old that I finally overheard her talking with Trevor in the hospital room. She told him that whole scene where I got "caught" cheating with the maid, the one who was half-dressed and everything, she'd arranged all of it herself. "I was just bored with him and didn't want things to get too messy," she said. Her eyes were clouded, not a hint of guilt in them. "So I set that whole thing up. That way, whatever I did after that looked totally justified." So that's how it was. No wonder every time I tried to explain, all I got from her was cold disbelief. She knew the truth the whole time. She didn't love me, but she used that fake accusation to trap me for 50 years. She could've just made a clean break, but instead, she chose to torture me slowly until the day I died. I look up at her face now, young but just as cold as ever, and I don't feel any love left. Just this churning hatred deep in my chest. She stares at the signed agreement like she can't believe what she's seeing, completely shocked. Outside the door, the sounds of people eavesdropping suddenly stop. The next second, my "wonderful" in-laws burst through the door looking absolutely thrilled. Isabella's mother grabs Trevor's hand and examines him from every angle, gushing the whole time. "Oh my, young people are just so much better! Look at how energetic he is!" Isabella's father, who's always looked at me like I'm dirt on his shoe, suddenly has this warm smile on his face. He shoots me a loaded glance and says, "Finally got rid of that dead weight. How many years has it been? Not even one grandkid to show for it." Trevor lowers his head like he's being modest. "Mr. Grey, don't say that. I'm not that much younger than Mr. Wilde..." He pauses and his face turns red. "Actually, Belly is already a month pregnant. We just haven't said anything because it's still early." I raise an eyebrow. Of course. Same passive-aggressive bullshit, same disgusting tone as always. The difference is, this time I don't care anymore. For years, I worked myself to the bone at Grey Group during the day just to be a good husband. Then I came home at night and had to wait on these two demanding assholes hand and foot. I'm barely past thirty, but I already have gray hair at my temples. Yeah, I look old. I turn around and head to the bedroom to pack my pathetic little collection of belongings. I'm already thinking about where I should go first once I get my money, somewhere I can actually relax. I don't notice Isabella following me inside. "It's late. You don't need to leave right now. Just go tomorrow," she speaks softly. "That villa on the west side is still empty, right? You can stay there for now, and I'll come visit you when I have time. "Caspian, I know you love me. Stop being stubborn." She gently rests her hand on her flat stomach. "But I can't stay married to you anymore. I can't let my child be born with the stigma of being illegitimate." I don't respond. I just grab my suitcase, walk past her, and head straight for the door. "I've got nothing to say to you. I'm happy we're getting divorced. If you actually have any conscience left, just hurry up and send me the money you owe me." The night, wind hits my face and carries tiny snowflakes with it. It's freezing and sharp, but it can't put out the fire that's burning hotter and hotter inside me.
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