The Self Love Handbook

The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback

Huo Wuer

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband's Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn't find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn't even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father's legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn's party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara's health and managing every detail of Caden's empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I'd drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause-if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I'd forgotten.

Modern Divorce Ex-wife

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Joanna's POV

"Joanna, get up." I heard someone yell.

"Could someone help me stop that noise?" I groaned, closing my ears with the pillow. "I really need this five minutes of extra sleep." I silently prayed.

"Joanna!" The voice came out again. This time it sounded clear and like --

Oh shit. I jumped off my bed immediately. Where could I hide?

"Joanna Gore Alex. Get the hell up or I swear, I will unleash hell on your head!" My mum shouted as she pounded on my door.

There went my delicious sleep people. Yes, I called sleep delicious. Have you tasted it? Trust me, you should. I hope that you would understand my current situation.

"Oh, you don't want to get up? She questioned. "Suit yourself then," she scolded and a few seconds later I heard her footsteps retreat.

"Thank God!" I sighed and did a happy, booty shake afterward. PS: it's a thing where you like roll your hips and twerk a little.

The booty shake was short-lived when I felt something cold and wet sting my skin. "What the --

My eyes flashed opened to see a Elvis who looked down at me with a smirk on his lips.

Wait. How did he...? Nevermind, he's so dead. I mused.

"Elvis!" I shouted before I hopped off my heavenly bed. Yes, it was heavenly - its features could agree.

He took off running immediately when he noticed I had gotten out of bed. "Get back here you coward!" I blurted, while I tried to catch up with him.

He was fast but since luck was on my side, I caught him in no time. Taking him unaware, I jumped on his back, my fingers going straight for the target.

"Oh no. Not the face. Not my face!" He screeched as he made attempted to remove my hands from his face.

Satisfied with my artwork, I got off him and sauntered to the kitchen. Where mum was making breakfast.

"Morning mom," I greeted, kissing her on the cheek. She turned around to smile at me as her brown skin stood out the same way the smile did. She was taller, like way taller than dad. Maybe it was because she was from Sudan, the southern part to be specific, and not from Nigeria.

Mom worked as a Lab scientist at a specialist hospital close to us so she was always around hence she was only called to work when there was a need for her services.

She was a full-time Christian who spent most of her time with God and her Bible. She had met dad in India, where they both attended college. Basically, I'm a half-cast.

"Did he succeed?" She smirked, returning to what she was doing, making breakfast.

I shrugged. "He did but I got my revenge," I replied as she swallowed hard. "Mum, don't worry. I didn't hurt your baby."

I rolled my eyes as she released the breath she was holding. Elvis had always been Momma's boy and I was Daddy's girl. So you get my drift? You better do.

"By the way, where's Dad?" I asked while I munched on an apple.

"Over here," he answered, coming down the stairs. He then kissed my cheek when he reached me to which I responded with a happy smile. See, this was what I was talking about.

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